I feel stuck. I am currently living at my mother's house, thirty or more miles from the nearest real town, sharing a room, unable to decompress, in some ways just sort of shutting down. I want to move on and start living again, but my environment is toxic and distant. The world feels much the same with a false face to disguise it.
Essentially, I'm going crazy. I'm retreating more and more into habit without a real schedule to speak of. Just long stretches of sleep, something to preoccupy me, and stilted, awkward, hollow conversations. At the same time, I try to think of something to do, or a place to go to, but everything I think of requires something I don't have, or don't like having to ask for.
It's like, if you could forgive the metaphor, I fell in the transitional canyon because I don't have a bridge (means or ways to get across.) Forgive me for my lack of order to this thread, but I can't even talk about any of this at home, nor do I have any counseling yet. I'm on a slow waiting list for aid, it seems.