Melancholic ill artist

I don't feel alive.

I was feeling kinda ok, for being me. Had a small fever and tired as always, but in a good mood and felt ok for the moment being, then as I'm saying something cheery to my Foxy in the other room, pouring myself some cola, I see how everything is turning, or falling together as a house of cards. I think I'm standing straight, but I am falling towards the floor, grabbing the oven handle to brace myself from falling, shouting for foxy to come catch me. Before he gets to me, I've landed on my butt. I'm completely at a loss at why the image I'm seeing is twisting and turning.

If this is what happens when I feel "fine", then what kind of life am I to have? I can't do anything. All my joys in life has been taken away from myself by noone else but my own body. I am my own prison, and there's not enough resources to cure me. Noone wants to find out what's wrong with me. Nobody wants to put down that little extra effort to help me. And I am now to weak and powerless to help myself. I've pushed too far and can't stand on my own legs. Who can I talk to about this? Who will listen and both believe and help me?

I don't want to die. I want to live!