I’m sitting here right now, doing my best to cope with my head’s decision to have a total breakdown. I assure you, it’s not a pleasant experience. I apologize if this is disjointed or nonsensical.

Downstairs, my wife is making General Tzo’s Chicken. She’s doing her best to cope with me. I assure you, it’s not a pleasant experience. It took me three hours to manage to cut up the broccoli.

I don’t know if I’d call it a panic attack; I certainly feel somewhat panicky. Overwhelmed; all the little things are too much. I don’t mean little things like cleaning the house. I mean little things like Lego figure heads, the scrap of paper on the floor, the itch in my left tear duct, the vaguely numb sensation of too much acetaminophen. The leaves on the trees that don’t line up, the hole in my underwear, the fact that the window I’m typing in on my computer isn’t perfectly centered in the screen. These are the little things that are all too much.

I end up on my hands and knees, rocking back and forward incessantly like a crazy person.

Wait…am I a crazy person?

It’s a rare lucid moment that’s allowing me to write this. Maybe it’s therapeutic. I missed my therapy appointment on Friday – I forgot about it. I haven’t called The Lovely J (to borrow a phrase) to apologize or reschedule. I don’t know if I can. I feel worse every second that goes by, and it’s stopping me from actually doing anything about it.

I don’t want to clean the kitchen tonight.

I don’t want to have Movie Night with Little Satis tonight, but don’t tell him – he’d be devastated. I think I’m going to have to force through it.

I think I must be crazy.

There’s too much recycling.

I have a friend who used to have panic attacks. She said it felt like she couldn’t breathe. I don’t feel like that. I feel like I can’t exist. I feel like I’m exploding, from the gut out. I had a crazy notion chopping the broccoli to ram the knife right into my stomach. There was a crazy flash of relief at the thought, but I didn’t do it, obviously.

I was playing Plants vs. Zombies…it was helping to still the storm, until I got to a level I can’t beat. Now that’s worse. Why doesn’t anyone make games that are just simply easy, all the way through? Wish Heroin Hero was a real game.

Maybe an episode of South Park will clear the crazies.

I feel an incessant, burning desire to work on something related to the The Redemption of Erâth, but there’s no way I’m in a state of mind to do anything about it. I tried another cover design, but I deleted it before I was halfway done. It sucked.

I’m so desperate for a cover design and I have no idea where to go for it.

I’m listening to Kamelot on Pandora. It’s fast, and kind of matches the spinning in my head.

This has helped. I apologize for the rambling, and I’ll be back next week with something more sensible.

Thank you.

I’m sorry.

Thank you.

~

Featured image from http://www.chesapeakehealthylifestyles.com/?p=1316.