Ive never written in my personal journal so much before, it's usually weeks between entries and nothing this private. I guess these are exceptional circumstances, it just occured to me as I started writing - another useless thought that jumped into my head.

I slept properly, finally. I just fell sideways about 8am and slepyt through to 6pm ish, my neck and shoulder hurt like fuck where I landed and then slept awkwardly, but at least I slept I suppose.

After devouring that sandwich yesterday, I haven't eaten again. I went offline to try for some food a little earlier and failed miserably. I don't care, I'm trying to eat because of a promise made to a friend, but I can't bring myself to care that I'm not. I'm sorry, that's selfish and I'm horrible for thinking that way. I'm trying.

I wish I could help everyone else, I want to be able to take away everyone's pain. I know I can't, and people keep saying I need to focus on healing myself, but I can't. I just can't. I can't even think about living right now, just existing each moment. And that's hard enough.

I've fallen back on roleplaying as a distraction, it sounds heartless and I don't mean it to be. It lets me pretend to be not me for a small while, just concentrating on stupid mundane things like characterisation and stuff. Because if I'm concentrating on things that don't matter, stupid little things that really aren't important in the long run, then I don't think about the bone-crushing agony of what the reality is. And that's what I need at the moment, it's TOO much, too raw and too huge to think about at the moment.

I spoke to Callie again today. For anyone who wants it, she linked me to this Facebook group for Shannon.

None of this probably makes any sense.