How Does Nothing Weigh So Much?

I'm trying to decide whether or not to go home for the day. I'm tired and not feeling my best and could use the rest. Could very seriously use the rest. I'm upset and frustrated and hate feeling this way. If I could just get my ducks in a row... if I could just pull my shit back together, I'd feel better. But, I don't feel like putting forth the effort. Kind of can't stop thinking "what's the point?".

I've been taking terrible care of myself lately. Which is to say, barely any. I've just lost all drive to care. And I could say my medication isn't working but I don't actually know if that's true or not. The only way I can determine that is if I stop drinking so much and start exercising again. If I start caring enough to see if that plays a part into it or if it has nothing to do with it. I'm actually leaning towards "nothing to do with it" but maybe I'm wrong.

It would be nice to start trying again. To start caring about my usual stuff. To continue juggling my blessings. Eventually. Hopefully. I don't like giving up but that's where I appear to be at the moment. Why? I know why. However, I'm feeling too miserable to even attempt to answer that question.