Overloaded: Day Two Hundred Seventy-Seven

336148_5708i cannot allow myself to get sick.  I feel like it might be coming on, and I want to curl up and turn the light off that is flashing like it is guiding seafaring vessels home from behind my eyeball.  Writing this seems nigh on impossible.

i just will peck away at this keyboard until something comes out.

Today, I just got overloaded.  Too much pulling on my arm, too many emails shot like ninja stars at my face, too much need and noise and aggravation and now I feel the result.  I feel like a pile of shit with a sore throat and a head full of clutching pains.

That’s not a very alluring statement and I suppose that’s just testament to the fact that right now, right right now, I don’t really want to be sitting awkwardly in my bed with a neck that aches, a shoulder in my ear, and just one more goddamn thing that I have to do.  I just want everyone to back off and they can’t and won’t and it, has, I think, finally driven me crazy.  Or at least just filled up the decent-sized bucket of what I can take and all of the tasks and guilt and stress are splashing around like this storm  that has haunted the past week, held at bay for hours and then, when the night comes and the exhaustion lets the reins go a bit slack, it soaks the streets.

I’m watching the second 90-minute episode of the Voice which has taken up a good portion of my evening and kept me from completely flipping out.

Today, I went out to lunch with a volunteer who wanted to check in with me and thank me for being me and I feel so ungracious and ungrateful that she gave me a giant sack of crocheted blankets and hot pan holders and a jar of applesauce and I am only thinking about how I’m up to my neck in alligators and how I’d prefer not to be a pump for information and I need to get back to the office.  In turn, per usual, I don’t eat and then life, life rolls over and bites me in the ass.  I certainly have my part to play in this, make no mistake.  Of course, I also did not have the usual high-dosage of caffeine today and I think I’m going through the first terrible stage of withdrawal (I did have a few sips of coffee this morning, early) and I do sort of want to shudder and shake and murder with my own bare hands anyone who deigns to speak to me.   But doing that did mean that I was able to drive home without any major panicky (by which I mean driving somewhere I don’t intend to go to avoid what I think will trigger me.) episodes.  I keep realizing that caffeine and sugar lately just fuck me up.  When this is over, I intend to do something about that.

There are no extended metaphors here, it’s just one and done.

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