And I will (do anything).

And I will do whatever it takes to survive. Even if it looks like nothing to you. I'll smoke stale menthols just past sunset and not worry about the wisps of tobacco entering home afterwards, lingering on my skin. I'll brew decaf coffee close to midnight and not worry that the old, loud coffee maker will disturb my downstairs neighbor. I'll light a candle for comfort and stay up watching mindless television and silly livestreams, if only to keep me alive, my mind preoccupied with something far less destructive. I'll drive to the 24/7 gas station for donuts and more coffee, if only to give me a reason to get dressed for the day and step outside my apartment. I'll try to plan one event for the week, one shopping trip. Something, anything, to keep me from sinking into the carpet like the fibers of memories I can't untangle myself from. And I'll keep brainstorming ideas to reach out. The resources available to me hang limply from my fingertips, and each time I re-consider them, I hesitate. Some day, I hope to not hesitate. Some day, I hope to be able to help myself.