Wolves Riding Bears.

I don't know what is wrong with me, or how to fix it. I feel incased in a feeling, a feeling that has knocked me into a state of disorientation so I can't find my way out. Every sentence I write feels like a page long. And yet I can't do anything else. I want to get it out, maybe express how I'm feeling fully, but whenever I try to, I feel so unable and put on the spot. It's terrible.

It's bonfire night. And I didn't do anything. I could've taken photos. What a dullard I am.

Is it pathetic that I'm writing this for no one to read? It never seems to help me any. I just remain the same. Empty, and whining. It makes me sick. Why am I like this? What have I done to end up in this state? covered in grime and depression. I don't understand it. I can't get my head around why my life seems to suck so badly. And compared to others, it probably is quite stupid to even contemplate what I am feeling, but I wish I could drill that into my head. I've tried, but it doesn't seem to work.
I hate my mind. Its weight is huge. It eats away at me, my self esteem, my logic. It feels almost faulty. Like certain aspects aren't on or functioning properly.
I can't have fun.
I can't enjoy sex.
I can't think clearly.
I can't make proper conversation.
I can't decide how I feel about people.
Etc, etc.

What the fuck is doing this to me? I used to think it was fate, pushing down on me. I don't even think that now. I don't even know what I think.

And I have no conclusion.
I hate this. I HATE THIS. I just want to scream at the walls at the top of my lungs with my eyes closed for the longest time possible and I don't want anyone to notice or to worry or anything. I don't want to think.
I don't want to think anymore.