my own grave

My body pays for my sins. Tremors, fainting spells, headaches. I want to end it all. Or so I say, because I never do anything to change it. I always complain, but I keep doing the same thing to myself. I never avoid my decline. I feel at the bottom of the pit I've been digging. I rest in the cold inside. When I wake up and decide I need to get out, I remember there's no escape. The icy air passes through me and I freeze. Frozen, paralyzed, motionless, useless. Thus, slowly, I will die in the grave I have dug for myself.