Brittle

The cracks are beginning to show.

I danced it all away last night with my good friend, Ed. Or so I thought…

I went to my apartment this morning to feed and visit my cats. I had to leave after 30 minutes. It felt like I was suffocating.

I have so much sadness that keeps building, threatening to spill over the well. And I’m quickly running out of steam to stave it off. This morning was the catalyst. I can’t fight it anymore.

I just spent the last 30 minutes sobbing. Those big, uncontrollable wails that are kind of embarrassing when you actually listen to them. Rocking back and forth, finally letting it go. Letting it all go: All of the anxiety, restlessness, insecurity and pain of this cursed year 2012. I almost feel better. (Almost).

I can’t function properly right now. Every normal task is a hurdle. I mean, christ, I finally cleaned up the last remnants of my kegger party… that was a week ago. I just…. I just can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I CAN’T. As much as I try to force from the world a patient smile (BRILLIANT Mumford and Sons), I feel stuck in 6 inches of mud and completely stagnant. I can’t move forward, WHY THE FUCK CAN’T I MOVE??? It’s maddening.

Maybe the universe has forced me to a halt because I probably wouldn’t deal otherwise. Well, Fuck you, Universe.

………

Another 10 minutes, of quiet tears and brow furrowing thought….

And once again I recite my mantra a la Frank in Little Miss Sunshine, when he talks about Marcel Proust:

Frank: Yeah. French writer. Total loser. Never had a real job. Unrequited love affairs. Gay. Spent 20 years writing a book almost no one reads. But he’s also probably the greatest writer since Shakespeare. Anyway, he, uh, he gets down to the end of his life, and he looks back and decides that all those years he suffered, those were the best years of his life, ’cause they made him who he was. All those years he was happy? You know, total waste. Didn’t learn a thing.

 

Time to put on my big girl pants. My friend is having her bachelorette party this weekend, and I refuse to bring down the high with my blubbering. Maybe I’ll try and force that patient smile from myself…

 

Current Jam, “Wagon Wheel” Old Crow Medicine Show

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