OK, let's be honest, it's more like "one of those weeks". Actually, it wouldn't really be much of an exaggeration to stretch it to a month, with a few days of respite.
There are days (obviously today being one of them, or I wouldn't be writing this) when I'm pretty sure I'm heading straight down the path to crazy. I start out a little frustrated, bothered by mundane things, irritated by virtually nothing. And then it grows. Enough so that I start to notice that I'm getting twitchy and anxious. So I try to distract myself, but no game is distracting enough, no movie is engaging enough, mellow music infuriates me, and, worst of all, no book has the power to draw me in. So I go out, try to escape myself. But almost every conversation tires me*, almost every person gets on my nerves*, and nothing seems interesting enough to participate in. So I go back home, more irritated than I was when I left. Back to a messy apartment that I don't care enough to clean, things that I don't care enough to write about... I think you get the point.
All the while I'm quite sure everyone I know thinks I'm a royal bitch. And I guess right now I am. So, consider this my weird ass explanation/apology, for those of you who feel you need it.
It's not so much that I don't know my own mind, I just don't trust it right now. I'm heading towards the place in my head where crazy doesn't seem so crazy anymore. When making very dumb choices seems like an awfully good idea. And I am terrified of what might happen if I just ignore the voice in my head that tells me to just go home and hide until the storm passes.
So, at home I sit. Trying to remind myself that while destroying everything in my apartment sounds like fun, I won't be too thrilled when I have to pick up the pieces. And fearing the day when suppressing all of this doesn't work anymore, the day that I crack and take a giant leap into the black hole.
*A small caveat; Brian, you win the exemption on these today, by virtue of having a more screwed up mental state than me. Nice job.
