attack of the meh
This will be one of those entries where I'm just posting here so that I can't rip it out of the book or hide it from myself later. That being the case, what the hell, may as well dive in at the deep end.
So for the past two weeks I have been a profoundly unhappy camper. It's been an ultimate culmination of misery, long time in progress, coming in from all sides finally. Too much to ignore, too prevalent to pretend like I don't see it anymore. I'm a coward and a lunatic, and I don't deal with changes of scenery well. I remain where I am due to inertia. Not patience, or forbearance, or any of that hoo-ha.
And just because I don't scream at the top of my lungs doesn't mean I'm tolerating it. It only means I am baffled, dumbstruck, don't even know where to fucking start.
I hate going into this shit. I'm venting off steam in vague directions here because if I don't, I fear I will do something reprehensible. I can't say what, but there's this baseball bat in the garage and it really feels like a step in the right direction, for some reason.
But sitting down and discussing the details? Yeah, I don't think so. Because what if it's honestly my fault, or what if it isn't, or what if I examine it too closely and discover that the problem isn't going to fix itself before it poisons my whole life irreparably, which means I have to get off my ass and do something drastic and final about it? What if I really do have to quit waiting, just get out and save myself?
And then I think oh god, screw it, I'm not doing anything until I get some sleep. I am sad, and furious all the time, and so very, very tired. It takes a lot of energy to manufacture functionality every damn day, and hiding in other people's made-up worlds until 2 every morning is lots nicer than staring at the ceiling thinking, but there is a price for that too.
Heh. Shit, I meant for this to be a lunchtime haikufic entry. Somehow it turned into a laundry list of seething resentment and ire (Item #57: I do not get up at the crack of dawn to listen to repetitions of meaningless apologies and aimless yammering from someone who can't even remember what they did last night. I'm up to get writing done so I don't kill people today. so fuckoffnow plz.), and then tamed itself down into this instead.
Gah. Gah.
Whatever. Ventbreak is over. Back to work.
(what's weird, is how much better I'll feel after I hit the Post button. I already know it.)