Try to Leave

I don't know when the concept of continuing with the rest of my life became so impossibly unbearable, but somewhere between January and today, it did. I try not to think about it too much. Every time I do, my vision blurs and the room pulses like someone's eyes might if they just swallowed a piece of food too big for their esophagus. I've been here one week and I think I'm going to die. This probably means I should give Annie a call.

It's starting to hurt every time I breathe.