The sadder girl has arrived

I'm trying to tell myself there is nothing inparticular about this date, the date i decide to start writing after such a long time. I feel the sadder part of myself arriving again, from such a long sleep. She is so familiar in my skin. Everytime she tells me to do something, killing the patients that has grown in me. I drink glass of water, after glass of water, until i feel a little sick. Therapy? I think my biggest problem is that I just don't know what to do. So with her the feeling of lost returns, if only i could hold out a few more hours, one more day. I think too much, my greatest down fall. what can you do. So i write again