Mal à coeur

Docteur! Tu es docteur? Parce que ça paraît que je suis mal à coeur! Docteur, qu'est ce que je peux faire?

This summer is lonely. Last summer wasn't lonely. But this one is. I feel like I may have Cotard's Syndrome. You're undoubtedly going to complain about my lack of explanation of things of which you've never heard of. So I'll give you the long answer.

Jules Cotard was a French military surgeon who only lived to be 49 years old, but he will always be remembered by discovering one of the most screwed-up mental illnesses ever: Cotard's Syndrome is a mental disorder where the victim concludes the he (or she) is dead. Some patients believe that they are missing crucial internal organs or that they have no blood. Other victims of this disease claim they can smell their flesh rotting or that they don't exist. I feel like i don't exist today.

It feels like life is passing me by without stopping. There's nothing I can do. It feels like the grips of my universe have let go and I am lost without any guidance. Pretty deep eh? I know, I don't being so morbid, either - but I guess that's the charm of the dog days of summer. I think I should probably call someone. But I don't want to. Is that a symptom of Cotard's too?

I'm going to go listen to 'Dream A Little Dream' from 1978.