Oh Crap!

It's blog action day and all I did was talk about myself.

I'm supposed to write something about poverty. I can't even focus on it because when I think about how connected we all are and how, when thinking that, we should all be going to bed hungry, I feel all overwhelmed. Don't believe me? Where were your clothes made? Who picked the fruit and vegetables you eat? Where did the wood that made the furniture you sit, eat, work, and sleep come from?

Poverty touches us all, if we know how to look around and see it. I'm not saying this because I think we should all feel guilty. I don't think guilt is a very healthy motivator. I say it to make you more aware. To make myself more aware. Opening my eyes to the interconnectedness of us all helps me not get lost in my own head. It also keeps me honest. We are all hypocrites, if we look closely enough.

I do not have the funds right now to donate to the cause that will alleviate my guilt for the day. I know, I said not to feel guilty, but the reaction is like breathing for me. So I write this meaningless jumble of words, hoping to open one other person's eyes. Or at least try to.

I hate this

Sorry about the TMI, but I am so fucking sick and tired of feeling so...tired and sick.

Wanna know why I so easily slip into obsession mode about fictional places? Because my RL...well, it doesn't suck, not really. There are many fine and wonderful elements to it that I wouldn't give up for the world. But those not-so-wonderful elements seem to be what takes up the majority of my psyche these days. And I don't quite know how to deal with those elements because they're all in my face and they're clawing at my insides and I feel fucking pathetic. So instead of dealing, I bail. I live in another world that is as unreal as mine is real and for a few days I can breathe.

I have done this my entire life. I used to think I was crazy, but now I see it as a very necessary coping mechanism. If I didn't drift out, I would most certainly go crazy, and not in some genteel way, but in a full-out dead-monkey-in-my-bedroom way. Just look for William Holden in the pool; I'm fucking ready for my motherfucking close up.

And none of this has anything to do with why the top of my head is going to blow off, or why if the phone rings one more time I'm going to just burst into tears--not of pity or fear or sadness, but pure unadulterated anger; I cry like a baby when I'm pissed as all get out, saves me throwing things against the wall. I can't even articulate what has gotten me to this point today. Some of you are well aware of my continuing growing frustration with my work. And I have actually done that mature thing and attempted to take steps to alleviate it, but none of it helps. I'm not sleeping and my stomach is churning and all I want to do is crawl into bed and slip into some very safe place that has no bearing on reality whatsoever and just exist.

Eventually, I do get tired of it all and face the world again.

But for right now I just feel like screaming. And I can't really do that here at the office or my very nice coworker will be forced to sing me platitudes until I want to cut out my own tongue. So instead I vent here and put it out there for all 12 of you to read and I lick my wounds and I feel pathetically sorry for myself and I look for more pictures of VDO or Simon Pegg or lolcats or something that will jar me out of this moment right now this one this---