The despair, the pain, the feeling so small, like nothing, so mute, the hopelessness of it all, it's so overwhelming. It's drowning me, enveloping my world in a fog of inertia. I don't know what to do.

I feel so useless. They want me to progress and move forward and I don't know how to tell them that every day is a struggle, every day finished, a meaningless victory. All of my dreams are empty vapors because there is no way to achieve them, any of them, not when I am forced to choose between a life of extreme poverty and being able to get the therapy and other help that keeps me alive. What kind of choice is that?

Bah. I am sick and depressed. I have been dreaming of dead people again and you are nowhere to be found, even in my sleep.