Tumbleweeds (or Seasonal Snowballs)

I didn't imagine the snowballs would be bigger in Texas.  Here they're just called tumbleweeds.  Here my mind fractures and gathers fertilizer to expand its cracks.

I try to sit down to get one thing done.  Then all I do is sit for hours avoiding work.  I've got to get going somewhere.  Currently the only place I'm going is crazy and I don't know how to get back on the right track.  I'm not myself anymore, though I don't want to be my medicated self.  I'm not the one I like to be, though have I ever been?  I feel like I'm running in circles and I'm not even moving.  I feel like I need to be kicked, and kicked hard.  My mind races in slow motion.  My heart says don't let me fall out of life and that there's little motivation.

The world is falling apart.  It's spinning out of control and no one seems to be here to stop it.  If I attempt to stop and solve one thing, the china I'm carrying fall to the floor.

Inject me with some adrenaline.  Perhaps I need the motivation.  Though, I don't want to just be given more energy.  Then I really will go crazy.  Some days I make a list and it works.  Some days I make a list and it makes my heart shrink.  Where do I start?  Have I waited too long on some of these things?  It's as if someone is punching me in the head over and again.  It's not a headache though; my mind runs rampant and I can't really stop it.  So I try to sleep and hope to wake up to it being better.

This, again, is depression with the flavor of anxiety.  It's bitter in my mouth.  I try to remember eating something not tarnished with the bitter flavor and little comes to mind.  My mind is a measuring rod, ever stretching, though not expanding.  Inside is a fish swimming and these incomplete thoughts consume me.

Who is going to make it better?  I'm breaking from the inside out.  I can't always go on like this.  If I'm always relying on others then eventually loneliness will be lonelier.  Though I must be humble enough to accept help from others.  Forget the independent nature of this western nation.  Will the motherland ever take me back?  Still, I don't belong here and I know it.  Likewise, "this world has nothing for me and this world has everything."  It all depends where you're looking and which world you're talking about.

Perhaps I'll just end this with a simple request:
help.

With what, I'm not sure, but I just feel I could use some help.