The numb days

Numb, and empty. That’s how most of my days are. My life isn’t very exciting. Not going out of the house often, almost everyday is some kind of the same. Day after day. Week after week. Month after month.


After I finally got up, sitting on my chair, computer switched on. Staring at the screen. Reading a bit, looking at things, seeing if my online friends are there and how they are. And what they have planned for the day. Lately though, they are not so often there anymore and I just sit there in emptiness – staring.


After a while I decide I should eat, so I get some breakfast (actually it’s almost lunchtime). But the taste? Like eating air. Things don’t seem to matter much somehow. I just sit, and eat something that tastes like air. That’s all.


So there I am, just sitting and trying to figure out what to do today. Or maybe better said: how to pass the day. Trying to think of things to do. And try to act. All that happens lately, is that time just goes by and I’m sitting there in apathy.


Sometimes I walk down and up the stairs, to get a tea or a coffee or a cappucino.


And again. And again. And again. And again.


There I sit staring at the computer. Watching / letting time passing by. Sometimes reading a bit, seeing a short documentary. Sometimes talking a bit to people online, but lately that doesn’t really happen anymore. Not sure what exactly happened….just feel very disconnected, and I speak less and less with them. Somehow I seem to be the only one with such a pathetic life -spending all day long online just sitting there. Next to that, it seems like the ability to talk or have conversations has gone. I have no idea what to say anymore if I see someone online and somehow that is hard, makes me feel a bit guilty, because–I like them and I kind of consider them as friends (is that weird?) and I definitely wish them all the best and hope that things go well for them and I am happy to see them, but I can’t show that somehow. It is really frustrating. Also, that makes me feel more guilty, bus also hurt somehow and very disconnected. Not sure why.

And well…….that’s how the day goes untill it reaches midnight.

Hello midnight. So yeah…sleeping time? Hm. Washed my bedclothes but no energy to put it on my blankets.


Well whatever. It’s no priority to sleep, right? You can sleep under blankets without


Standing in my room. Looking at my bed and sleeping clothes (don’t even have pajamas, just some kind of tracksuit in which I sleep. But sometimes, even putting them on feels like too much and – another shamefull thing to admit- sometimes, I just do not put them on and lie down in my clothes I wore all day long.


Thousands thoughts. Feeling weird about not putting on my sleeping clothes and having blankets without bedclothes, but I can’t seem to do anything about it. So there I just lie down, in bed.


After a while, I finally fall asleep. Untill I wake up again.


And lately, there is trouble to wake up or get out of bed. After I wake up, I stay in bed for hours sometimes, and sit on my bed and think what to do with the day. It’s empty, just like yesterday. Empty, empty, empty. Don’t even bother to shower, or put on some other clothes.


Finally, the same things as yesterday happens again. Step out of bed, switch on the computer. And there I sit again. Trying to think how to pass this day. How to change.

And how I feel. Sometimes a bit of feeling comes through the being numb.

But I guess even that is empty. But it feels horrible sometimes.Even if it’s empty.


This is just not how life should be. Just not how it should be.


4 thoughts on “The numb days

  1. I take back what I said in my long, long, long rambling post I just wrote. I had said that the “cartoon version…” was truly worthy of a book and I was wrong kinda. It’s any of your stuff that is like above and so on. The illustrations you do with these posts are just so brilliant. This post above is something I was just thinking about the other day. I seem to do the same thing and I have even done the same thing in regards to washing bedding, then being too tired or something to put it on the bed properly, then when it’s time to lie down I have done the same about changing into pajamas or something appropriate for sleep, instead just going to bed in whatever I had on. Everything from above and other posts of yours always resonates with me. I almost want to hate you because what you have done is so magnificent, it’s one of those moments you have and your thinking to yourself, “Why didn’t I bloody think of that?”. But I do not hate you, I think that might be impossible with what little we have talked via online. Again, this is another brilliant post that I am giddy over in some funny way. It’s like you and I talked before about how nice it is to see that someone goes through the same things as you do but feeling terrible that someone knows what it’s like because that would mean that person is suffering just like we do, etc. Maybe you remember that discussion but it’s not important…Anyways, I now worry that with all these comments from me today that you might worry that I am a creepy online stalker or troll is it? I assure you I’m not! I have been away from the blogging community for too long and this week for some reason I decided that I needed to come back and so here I am. And the first person/blogger that I get excited about? That would be you!

    • Thank you. Again I appreciate your reply and feedback. I don’t see the things I write as brilliant at all – they are just childish drawings (well, even kids draw better than I do, I’m a really terrible drawer), they are chaotic (like me, I guess) and they are a bit sarcastic in some ways – I’m not really a couch potato but I do see myself that way. I’m trying to make fun of myself in some way, to make things more bearable sometimes I guess. But anyway – I’m glad that you like these posts, somehow it makes me feel a bit appreciated in a way. I never had a lot of compliments on things I made or did, especially not when I grew up – always something wasn’t okay or right, and no one ever saw anything in me. I always had ‘wrong dreams’ and what I wanted was never possible, they said. Even when I got a bit older, in art classes, the teacher always gave me low marks, because she didn’t understand the things I made, but all the others were so great and blablabla. Not that I saw myself as an artist, no way, but it was just like this with every course in highschool or where ever – I was never, never good in anything, and no one never really believed in me – nor do I believe in myself.

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