Been feeling rather neg lately, so I thought I had better try and ride it out by writing it out.

Like always, I thank you readers for my ability to do this. If nobody was reading… it just wouldn’t work.

I seem to be at the “rising anger and frustration” part of my mood cycle. I have a lot of free floating irritation and anger. I have trouble staying focused on things, not in my usual foggy incoherent way, but more in an irritable, fuck this once it becomes too hard, trouble standing still way.

I feel like energy is accumulating somewhere in me. I hope this means my psyche is gearing up for another cycle of volcanic (but relatively gentle) change. Each eruption is violent when it happens, but it adds another few inches to the coastline of my slowly growing island of self.

And I need that thing to be as big as I can make it. It at least has to be big enough for me to stand on with both feet firmly planted on the ground, and no longer worried that the tide will take me away and drown me in the depths of my own dissolution.

Tomorrow is a therapy day, and that should be interesting. The last time I did therapy in this state of mind, I ended up having an epic argument with the therapist for the whole session about things which seem quite pointless to me now but which at the time were most vital.

This time, I go in with knowledge gleaned from last time, and hopefully, without a succession of tension increasing events to really set me into high torque and make me ready to snap at the slightest gentle brushing up against my enormous throbbing swollen issues by said therapist.

Partly, that is why I am trying to express my feelings here tonight, in order to dissipate some of that trapped tension and maybe make tomorrow morning’s session go a little more smoothly.

I have been really enjoying and benefiting from the work we have been doing the last few sessions, and I would rather do that than end up in some other long pointless argument, truth be told.

However, the argument also served its purpose. If another happens, it would not be a total disaster. I am less worried now that exposure to my radioactive reactor core of anger and bitterness will make my therapist abandon me. That was probably never a rational fear in the first place, but I am increasingly aware of the limits of rationality and the reality of my own humanity lately, and so I am forgiving myself more readily for my less than rational moments.

After all, I am but a human being. I cannot solve every single problem by bringing my Brobdingnagian intellect to bear on it. Some things can only be solved via, shall we say, irrational means. They cannot be puzzled out or thought through or conquered via intellectual trickery alone.

They just have to be dealt with in a strictly human manner. There may be more good, when all is said and done, in a poet’s intuitive ramblings or a sweltering hot dream than in all the thinking I could do in a million million lifetimes.

Luckily, while I tend towards rationality as a default, I am not so hidebound a rationalist that I am incapable of accepting the input of my subconscious or the truth of my emotional being that I am forever doomed to go around in mad circles trying to catch my own tail as I try to use the left brain to solve fundamentally right brain problems.

You can, if you really want to, use a hammer to bang in a screw. But a screwdriver is far better.

However, I am aware that intellectualizing is a major problem with me. I “lead with my head”, which is at least as bad to do in life as it is to do in boxing. My brain is vastly overdeveloped compared to my spirit or soul, and that is disastrously wrong. It leads to a very chilly existence. The intellect sheds much light, but gives no warmth.

No mystery how I got this way : I didn’t go out and live life. You can improve your mind alone in your garret (especially if it has Internet) but you cannot grow in spirit and strength and capacity. You can’t prove to yourself that you can take what life dishes out and survives if you afraid to even get in line at the cafeteria.

I do sometimes wonder if I would have been better off if something had forced me out into the cold cruel world at some point. The depression, of course, doesn’t think so, it says I would have just died homeless and insane. And it might be right, truth be told.

But maybe I would have just gotten a job, gotten a life, and gotten my shit together. Maybe I would be a far more whole and capable person than the absurdly unbalance, unhappy, and unfulfilled person that I am right now, in this life I am living today.

I know someone who faced the cold when he was sure he was completely incapable of doing so, and is now employed and living on his own and earning his own keep. I envy that. I feel so fragile and pathetic sometimes that I just want to start over.

Just take my disability check, buy a bus ticket to anywhere, and when I get there, completely reinvent myself and never look back on this loathsome thing that I have now become. Make a clean break from the past and go be someone else for a while, see how that works out.

Maybe become someone who doesn’t take anything seriously, lives life for the lulz, never thinks about the past or the future, and who just bounces from one thing to the next with nothing more in mind than the next thing that seems fun.

Of course… I could do that right now…..