Imploding

This morning I kind of figured out how I feel overall. Since the surgery it has been gradual and I didn’t notice it at first. I’ve had a few slight upswings but overall it’s been downhill. Each day I care less and less. If it isn’t something I have to do for survival like go to work, I for the most part don’t care. If not for the tiny voice inside yelling that I need to tell someone about this, I probably wouldn’t bother with that either.
Pre-surgery I was exercising, eating right and taking care of myself mentally and physically. I lost about 20 lbs. Now I’m not. All I want to do is veg out in front of the TV. I gained the weight back plus some. I’ve been eating like crap because I don’t care enough to cook or go grocery shopping. I’m not exercising. I don’t go anywhere I don’t have to go because the social anxiety is too much. I don’t care enough to fight the anxiety so I give into it. It’s a struggle to care enough to take my meds. Otherwise I wish I could just lay down and let the world go on without me because I don’t care enough to keep up. I think part of me wants to implode. Wants to spiral downwards. Stop caring completely because I’m just so tired of fighting. But the part of me that demands perfection won’t allow complete implosion. It’s exhausting really.
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