fur-trimmed brain

feels like a thick blanket, not dense, but deep, and it covers me most of the time. it's warm and smothering and heavy. nearly impossible to throw off. occasionally it falls from me and I'm able to walk unfettered and breathe easily. but I always end up back under it.
these are my days now, just existing. the constant weight of anxiety and avoidance bearing down on my shoulders. eternal depression making everything, everything, harder and worse.
I eat just to have something to do. I've never been that way before. I sleep as much as possible. walking around makes me dizzy. it feels like there's an error in communication between my senses and my brain. I can't focus or figure out what's going on around me. I react, but poorly, and with delay.
everything in me screams that I don't want to be here, and the more I don't want to be here, the harder it is to continue. the harder it is to continue, the more work I miss. the more work I miss, the more I have to make up. the more I have to make up, the longer I have to stay. the longer I have to stay, the more depressed I get. the more depressed I get, the more I want to leave. it just loops and loops and I can't get out of it. I don't know what to do.
I feel like a failure, like I'm failing, like I'm lying, like I'm making things up. like it's all in my head. there isn't really anything wrong with me, I just am sick of dealing with life so I've made that emotional illness manifest physically. and I'm tired all the time. I'm so far behind in my major, in my internship, with my papers. I don't know what to do.
I want to cry. I want to give up. I feel rotten inside. I feel worthless and useless and I know with my head that I am not these things, but it doesn't stop me from feeling that way. I want to sleep all the time. I want it to be easy. it isn't easy. I wonder what happened to how I used to push myself. I don't know.
I'm so tired.
I just want this to be done.