NEET

These days, I usually spend most of my time either in my bed or at my desk. I try to sit in the dark sometimes, complete the vacuum that has become my best friend, but I get too anxious and have to turn the light back on. Every time I turn the light back on I have to look around for a while and try to get a grasp on where I am, despite having been there for the last several days, leaving only to use the toilet or get some coffee. My father comes in sometimes, to check on me or to ask if I want to go to the store or somewhere with him, but I usually reject. Going outside requires way too much effort now, and when I do go outside it's like walking into an almost empty room with glossy white walls and fluroscent lights in both the ceiling or floor with some small paintings of what the world is supposed to look like hanging here and there.
	When I can't will myself back to sleep I usually spend my time staring at the walls or into the phantasmagoric world that lies behind the portal of my computer screen. Sometimes I can spend six hours on it before finally forcing myself to either get back in bed or go out and eat something and try to talk to my parents a bit so they don't get too scared and come check on me or, dear God, try to talk about it with me. I get a lot of floaters in my vision now and I'm pretty sure that they are related to my extended use of the Internet, but I don't care. I actually welcome them sometimes, they're like the icing on the dreamy cake that is my world now.
	The concept of a day has not applied to me in a long time. I can't really say for sure but if I had to guess I would say that I haven't lived a "day" in about seven or eight months. I awake and then I usually squeeze my eyelids tightly shut and try to return to that hypnotic state that leads into dreams. Sometimes I'll get lucky and fall back asleep for another eight hours, but usually it's twenty minutes at most, often not even of REM sleep. It's possible for me to force myself to stay awake for about fourteen hours if I'm really trying, but I usually retreat back under the covers at the first inklings of drowsiness.
	I don't really know how it got this way.

	During one of my obnoxiously long sleeps, I had a dream that frightened me deeply. In the dream I was a ball of flesh, with bones sticking out here and there, a heart barely connected to the rest of myself, pounding ever so slightly, ever so slowly. Blood was spewing everywhere but I was halfway in sand so it didn't really matter, because the sand was soaking up all the blood like a sponge before it could coagulate. My eyeballs were halfway between the sand and I had no lids to shut it out with. I felt as if I was slowly being dunked into a vat of battery acid but my skin was regenerating faster than I could die, so I just kept during the burning forever and ever.
	When I awoke I was in a sweat that was neutral. Not cold or hot, just wet. The wetness was too much and I immediately realized that I would not be able to go back to sleep. I stood to go take a shower, which I probably needed anyway, but my legs felt like they were glued together and the floor was molasses.