Wednesday, June 17, 2009

It's tough to explain on days like these.

My skin feels too small and there's a lump in my
throat the size of a small country. That constant
feeling of needing to puke or cry can get to your
head fast. I'm nervous and upset and happy and
sad and angry and restless. All at once.

It's overwhelming and it's uncomfortable being me.

So I curl up in a strange position in the center of my
bed, I lay flat on my back, I curl up in fetal position
on the floor, I lay on my stomach and rest my head
on my arms, I lay on my left side, and then on my
right, but none of it's right. None.

And I don't know what to do. There's a burning in my
cells that can't be stopped and a myriad of questions in
my fucking head. It kills me to spend ten minutes thinking
about the dead baby bird on the back deck that's been
sitting there for the whole fucking day. It kills me to even
dwell on the fact that I'm angry that other animals don't
bury their fucking dead.

I don't want to be angry anymore. I want to be me again.
I want to be painfully awkward by choice like every other day.

3 comments:

Danielle said...

I seemed to have lost your phone number.
It would be pleasing to get it back.

imbrilliant said...

That can probably be arranged.
Do you have an email?

Since posting your phone number on
the interwebz is usually not a
good life choice.

Danielle said...

xdinorawrz@aol.com