...suck. I feel nothing but my symptoms. I feel trapped by them. I just want to lay around my apartment and curl up into a little ball. I know this is my brain doing this. But my brain is part of me, so I'm doing this to myself. Then I think I must really hate myself that I would do this. I know I'm supposed to get out of my head and into my body. But my body feels like shit. I keep remembering a day when I was young - about 22. I had just gotten out of the Army and bought myself a car. It was an old 1970s Beetle with a convertible top. There was this day I was driving around in that car with the top down. It was summer and I had my shirt off. I felt free, my body felt good and I was truly happy in that moment. When I get the question, "when did you last feel really happy?" that's what I think of - that day driving around in my Beetle. That was a very long time ago. I've been married, had kids and gotten divorced since then. On days like today, I tell myself it's been too long and my body has forgotten how to be happy like that.