no passion

I used to be so passionate. ai cared about things, and shit mattered. but now, I don’t give a flying fuck.

I was waking up 7 days a week at 4am to go ouside on chilly November mornings to run for an hour. every. damn. day. even after I completed the 5k for which I wasntraining, I still went to the gym and/or ran fairly regularly.  these days, I can hardle do a twenty-minute walk on a treadmill while reading a book.

I was cooking at least one super healthy meal a week. now, I don’t even eat sometimes because I’m just too tired.

I would journal or blog or write or draw. I saw people, went places, did things. I was constantly learning and absorbing new information. but now, I can hardly stay awake at my job.

I have no passion for anything. even my fandoms are unfulfilling. I have no drive, no reason, no gusto, no want-to, no desire. no hope.

I had a brief walk in the gym today. not to get fit. but because Brian asked me to go, and I didn’t have anything else I was interested in doing.

I just have no care. no nothing. I’m so empty and direction-less 

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bad cat-mommy

I have nightmares.  as in I wake up crying or yelling, I spaz in my sleep, I’m terrified to go back to sleep, etc.  and this happens regularly.  I take Klonopin for it, but it only helps so much.

last night, however, wasn’t so much a nightmare as a mere bad dream.

IRL, Zero have been at his grandparents’ place since I got my DUI almost two weeks ago.  I miss him.

in my dream, I got him back.  but he wouldn’t talk to me (because in that dream, cats could speak English).  he wouldn’t let me hold or pet him; wouldn’t let me touch him at all.  he would only eat food that Brian put down, none that I did.  he was angry with me for both being a drunkard and bad cat-mommy, and for sending him off to the grandparents for so long.

I woke up nigh in tears.  I’m terrified this will become reality.