Warning: not a happy post

I don’t think I can do it anymore.

I don’t think I can force myself out of bed in the morning, after yet another restless night because the dog was barking nonstop throughout the night, to go to a job I loathe and have completely lost any remaining enthusiasm/faith in, to calling up friends I have after hours, calls that are not always based on favoritism or any actual emotion other than boredom, just to engage myself in conversation with other people that will let me escape my head for a while. Keep that mouth moving, engross yourself in fake laughter and stupid talk and you won't be doing any thinking while you're at it. And then go back to the place they call home, and have that fist lodge itself in my throat till I wake up the next morning.

I am sick of being petty and bitter, of being confused and indecisive. Of not knowing what I want or who I want to be with or who I am anymore. I am sick of seeing a reflection of myself in others faces that I do not recognize at all, that repulses me. I am sick of being abandoned by family and friends, of feeling discarded. I am sick of being so angry all the time, and whiny and repetitive. I am sick of doing things over and over again, seeing people over and over again, just to pass the goddamn time. Just to be doing something. Just to get away. And not notice that all the real things I have left, are all ugly little fragments of an ill life I do not want.

I honestly don't think I can do it anymore. 
I'm taking a sabbatical.