Mental illness is often romanticised but in actuality offers nothing. Some naively see it as some sort of spur for artistic expression, but it’s nothing of the sort. All it creates is destruction.
I have been suffering with a problem for nearly three years: I sigh - or yawn, or both - all day everyday. It may not sound like much, but believe me it is. 2008 & 2009 were the two worst consecutive years of my life. They drifted by like a grey daydream, and I had no idea of why or how to solve it. I was just… well it’s hard to explain. Sad is the emotion, but it’s not right. Unresponsive is probably better. It’s like my heart went slowly to sleep, and I descended into a prolonged emotional torpor from which there was no escape.