Someone so tired of their routines and disappearing self-esteems.

A war is being raged. This war won't be broadcasted on major news channels. It won't be found in the New York Times or in your local newspaper. This war is being raged inside of my head. I'm battling severe fatigue. You see, today just happened to be the day that I worked a double shift at my place of employment. 10 1/2 hours of work, with a 15 minute break. My eyelids weigh a ton. My mind keeps racing. Don't even get me started on my lower back. Yet despite all of this, I'm awake. The only thing cutting the pitch black; the lingering darkness that is my room, is the dull glow of my monitor. Aside from the sound of my shallow breathing, the only thing I can hear is the clitter-clatter of my furious key strokes. I want to sleep. Fuck it, I want to be in a vegetative state for the next couple of days. Yet I fight the urge. Why? The rational and logical side of my brain is imploring me to crawl into bed and let sleep overcome my body. I know that by staying up this late, I'm just going to make it worst. But you know what? Tonight I like it that way. I like the numbness that comes with being excruciatingly exhausted. The oblivion. The chaos which only exists inside of my own head. Everyone else's problems are suddenly so far from my own. Because I have shit to deal with too. If I'm tired, I have an excuse to just lounge around and not leave my house. To evade the constant problems that don't concern me anyway. When I get to this point, I don't even need to try to block things out, the exhaustion does it for me. And I like that. So for now, as I feel as though my body is withering away beneath me, and I start to slip deeper and deeper into a state of deliriousness, I can't help but wonder if I'm the only person who feels this way? Aaaaahhh, fuck it. It's time for bed.