Apathy

I feel nailed down to my bed by the weight of anxiety. I feel no tiredness yet I have no motivation to move from my bed until well into the afternoon. Food stopped tasting good. Gallons upon gallons of caffeine is the only thing that can get me to move anymore. And to hell with any sort of libido just the sheer mention of it is damn near sickening. I somehow find a motionless, white, ceiling more fun to watch than any show or movie. All of the joy has vanished.
Company of other humans can be a pleasant distraction. That is, if I'm Willing to burden them with my horrid presence. Perhaps me viewing myself as a bother to everyone causes it to become more accurate of a thought each day. Or perhaps I've just always been this pointless of a person. I can't even muster up the motivation to die, probably the best ending for everyone. If I'm not moping, I'm just silent, I can't help but bring my issues into every conversation just adding unnecessary weight to everyone else's lives . It's impossible for my sanity to win. The whole situation is a big paradox. If I don't express it I'll feel like shit. But when I pester people for help I feel like shit for bothering them. Everyone's life is hard, not just my own. Still knowing that Doesn't seem to change a thing. What the fuck.