I am feeling… something that is one part fear and one part exhaustion and then just rage rage rage, white hot rage that hisses and sizzles.
I don’t know where it’s coming from, but it’s giving me a headache.
I don’t want to hear from anyone but I desperately want to be comforted. I really want my dad, but I don’t want to ask him to come down here until I really need him. And I’d be mad at him if he were here, no doubt.
I can’t really articulate where it’s coming from. I just feel caught up in it and overwhelmed by it.
Nothing is really comforting to me. And people trying to comfort me is just pissing me off.
I may be turning into a grouchy old man. Can you just see me shuffling around town in my work boots and my overalls and my John Deere cap tilted too far back on my head and I’m picking up stones out of the driveway and throwing them at passing cars and wincing and grinning at each impact?
Ooh, I know that one. Sounds like a drink and a video game (or punching bag, hunting trip, vigorous shopping expedition…) are in order. I can’t help you too immediately in any of those areas, but p’raps one of the closer pantslings can lend a hand (or wiimote).
Not here to comfort, just saying I get it. I’ve been so angry recently that it’s taken every ounce of my energy not to just start screaming.
And not stop.
Fear and rage, I get that.
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You’re in the wrong country. According to Danigirl, yesterday was National Grouch Day in Canada.
You’re turning into Jackie Broyles? (www.redstateupdate.com)
That would be cool, yo.
Completely understandable. Being expected to comfort yourself in the midst of serious crisis while simutaneously being expected to comfort others because they’re so damn needy is outrageously frustrating.
I think we can safely swipe that Canadian holiday today, don’t y’all? They’re nice folks, they share.
I would like to show – and share – my sympathies by way of a ruptured blood vessel. Ideally, someone else’s (specific but not politic) – but more likely mine.
Maybe a long car ride? I’m hosting a tournament this weekend, but if you don’t mind going in the dark, we could spend Wednesday evening watching the sunset through the windshield. I’ll even promise to have you in bed by 9:30.
god I can relate. Rage is the worst. I can’t control it when it comes over me. It’s like a big black bear that posesses me and the only thing that will feed it is blood. Oh, i’m not a murderer, fyi. heh.