I've been pushed pretty close before, but I don't think I've ever felt so buried. So much is on my mind. I wish only a few things were. I felt trapped for a little bit, but I'm working through it. I can see how some things, maybe most things or even everything, won't fail.
Nobody else is in this situation. It's my own damn fault and it's lonely. I can't think of a night I didn't lie in bed for at least an hour, thinking about how to fill the few gaps in my schedule wisely. In the end, I can't be confined to X-amount of hours. I need a day or two, but I don't have very many of those, either.
Most minutes of most days are spent doing useful things, but in the end there are more things to do the next day. I refuse to study at home. I'm doing extra well in my classes, probably because I'm doing extra awful at being a functioning human being. I crave a real, consistent practice regime. It's not there and my playing is suffering for it and it hurts. I hate how ugly I look when I cry. I can't wait for summer. I'd love to someday have some daylight when my day is over. I'm excited for when I can write a cohesive set of thoughts at my leisure.