Tonight I lie in my bed after spending today feeling weirdly relaxed knowing I have so much to do.
I'm looking at my hands, but they are not my hands.
I'm breathing real air, but my lungs feel fake. They feel tight and like plastic. I close my eyes and listen for my own heartbeat.
I am myself but I am not here, I am a shell tonight. I want to eat but I can't make myself swallow, I fear I will choke. I can manage water.
To repeat, I am hungry but I cannot eat.
I am breathing but I cannot breathe.
I am alive but I am not living, not tonight.
I am not attached.
I am surrounded by love and people, yet sometimes I am not there.
I am having conversations without hearing the words escaping my lips.
And it is so okay.