all day long i have been boiling and frothing with a white hot
irritation. it wells up inside me and i want to tear my hair, i want to tear
your hair and yell and scream, i want to drive straight on through and fuck the
pedestrians, i am clumsy and lacking attention to detail and relish the pain
when i plough into a trash can or get wrapped up and burned from the dogs'
leashes. i want to run and run until my muscles ache because physical pain is
the only conceivable culmination of all this madness. i don't understand and i
am exhausted. i did not sleep enough. i need a nap but my heart pounds too
forcefully and i can hear the blood in my ears telling me to get up and get something done, anything.
i am too irate to respond to text messages. i am trying not to
snap at the dogs, who do not deserve my wrath. and i am doing what we all do,
the only thing we all know how to do, and i am turning it inwards. i do not
want to hurt anyone. i do not want to say anything i'll regret.
and the klonopin brings some level of peace despite the
still-roiling mind. enough peace to let me sleep at least. and maybe something
different for tomorrow.
i'm sorry this post isn't a masterpiece but benzos and anger do
not combine well into pretty words. and i'm still tearing my hair. we all have our
days. i have no idea how i will wake in the morning or what state i'll be in.
and in this lies the exhaustion and the further fracturing of selves.
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