Quicksand.

Your shit-heap of a life suddenly feels like quicksand, surrounding you, engulfing you. It's so hard to  move, breathe, think. You want to change, but you hate change, change isn't stable, secure or permanent.  Constantly uneasy, forever anxious, always nervous. Nothing is right anymore, you're so head-fucked you can't decipher right from wrong, good from bad, yes from no. You're not okay, not anymore, barely eat, hardly sleep. You've taken the toll physically too, sunken eyes, hunched back, blank stare, empty smile. You hated everything you have now become. But you don't want to fix anything. This bed you have made yourself, after all these years, now seems somewhat comfortable. You're sick of feeling like a dog chasing it's tail... Not getting anywhere in life, constantly running in circles, never achieving anything. Now like that dog, you're tired, out of breath, and over the chase.