The Unbearable Day of Existence

The inability to feel anything genuine or substantial. Nothing is second nature other than the reoccurring 'themes' of the illness. One can never be reactive or impulsive - always inactive and predictable. Life itself becomes a meagre concept due to aid and conveniance. Everything is broken down into 'the day', primarily because sleep is so valuable, however the illness overules dreams to. Your body becomes inadequate and all the joys the body once had are forgotten. No longer do you feel human but 'mutant-like' and inexplicably alone. Death haunts you precisely because of this isolation and being never able to truly connect with another human soul (this being primorderly what we live for). Everything a regular human being takes for granted such as true human expression, built-in sensibilities and a secure feeling of self buried deep within are shattered memories and ultimate longings. Days stretch onto eternity because there only ever is one day - the unbearable day of existence.