My head is swimming with a multiplicity of thoughts, most of them dark. I feel angry, cynical, gloomy, and frustrated. There are many reasons for this, and there are no reasons at all. I don't know how to explain it any better.
Sometimes I just need to vent, to get it all out there, whether it makes sense or not, whether it helps or not. Today is one of those days.
I had an unhealthy bout of anger earlier this morning. I ranted and raved, entirely to myself, about something that really didn't matter. When I was done, I asked myself if I felt better, and knew that I didn't. I'm usually so even-tempered, but sometimes just below the surface, a rage seethes. I don't know what causes it, but fortunately it dissipates quickly.
I'm fighting a cold that makes me cough infrequently; but when I do cough, my chest hurts. I'm taking over-the-counter medicine for it, but it's not going away quickly enough. I want to rip out my lungs, insert new ones that aren't all gunky, and start afresh. You know the feeling, right?
Sometimes I'm comfortable in my own skin. And at other times, I hate who I am, who I've become, and who I've settled for being thus far. I want to be more, but I settle for less. I want to be better, but I end up being worse. I'm not talking about merely ambition, or even the way I look (though I could go on all day listing the things I hate about myself).
I get tired of bogging myself down in things that don't matter, while avoiding or neglecting the things that do. I know what I'm doing, and that it's pointless or maybe self-defeating, but I can't seem to focus on what is important. That frustrates me to no end!
I want to do something productive with my writing. I'm working hard at developing my skills, honing them on a daily basis here. Yet some days I feel as though I have nothing to offer, nothing really worth saying. Even when I have something I think is worth sharing, I wonder if anyone else even cares to hear it. I wonder if reading me daily is too much to ask of them – not too much of a good thing, just simply too much. I worry that they're judging me when I dare to be unflinchingly honest. I'm paranoid, yes; but it's only because I do care what people think about me. I probably shouldn't care so much.
I'm not looking for sympathy or empathy. I'm not worthy of either one. Yes, I'm feeling down but I'll get over it. It's just a phase, right?
We're going out of town for part of this weekend. Get out of Greenville for a little while, maybe do something outdoorsy. Some fresh air would be nice. It may not help, but it certainly can't hurt.
Enough of this...