A Writer's Notebook, Day One-Thousand-Four-Hundred-And-Eighteen

I started to try writing an entry for tonight and just kept spinning my wheels and getting no place.  I'm overwhelmed and exhausted and just feel as if it is impossible to do anything that will make things better right now.  I don't just feel stuck, I feel trapped, and I do not know what I can do.  It doesn't seem as if there is any chance that I can find a way to actually make any of this better or even escape to something more positive.  I wish I didn't feel so doomed, and I wish that I actually thought writing about it might help me to feel better or to exorcise it or something, but it doesn't work that way for me, at least it never has.  The truth is, I am not going to feel better unless I can actually get things to be different in a real sense, and if I had the capacity to change things in that way, I would already have done it.  I don't really think there is an actual answer, in the end.  I think I am just going to be stuck with things being this way, and I have to recognize that I can't deal with that.  It feels as if the things that are essential and necessary are also, somehow quite impossible.

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