Lately I've been walking around in this miasma of anger. For the last few weeks; well, more like months. Recent events have pushed my cynisism to toxic levels. I'm having a difficult time believing any more in the general goodness of humanity. There is so much pain and suffering and so much of it can be traced back to other people's greed and desire for power and money. Not as if I am exempt. I do far too little and most times nothing at all to alleviate anyone's misery.
So in that last post, a little of that anger crept out from the dark place and displayed its ugly. I'm still trying to decide whether I meant it or not. I'm having a hard time self-evaluating.
I know that it's eating away at me and what's probably making me feel like shit most of the time, but I haven't found a way to make it go away. So I appreciate the small happinesses of everyday life and try not to think about it. Maybe that's why I haven't done much, because that reminds me.
There are a lot of good people out there in blogland. I read your stories and laugh and cry at them and marvel at how good you are. But I'm having trouble with reality, because after everything, they're just stories. Are you really flesh and blood and living? Are you really real?
I've been having a lot of trouble connecting with other people lately. It's as if I'm afraid of any interaction with anyone I don't know very well. I avoid checking my email. I look at someone passing on the street and immediately assume they're making fun of me or are disgusted with me. And then immediately kill that thought because it's stupidly narcissistic and probably wrong. I have a hard time not generalizing about people, which I can't stand when people do it about me, so it's doubly guilt-inducing.
I should get out more but it just hasn't been working and I avoid it because it drains my energy. I went to a knit night at local yarn shop. It went poorly, I don't think I was very good at the small talk and they were playing the "I am cooler/more educated/more experienced than you" game with one-upmanship stories. I don't play that game, I really dislike it. Anyway, haven't been back.
So there you go, personal introspection/masturbation post #1. It just all means that I'm a hoser who won't get off her ass long enough to sew Rabbitch some hats for people who really need them. Well, maybe this weekend. I've got an airport wait and a plane flight. That's long enough to do 1/3 of a big chunky yarn Crazy Aunt Purl Easy Roll-brim hat.