I am in a lousy fucking mood.

Dunno why. It’s not like something catastrophic or even mildly upsetting has happened. My blood sugar isn’t low, as far as I can tell, and I am getting awesome sleep these days. I should be at least doing decently.

But no, I feel like crap. I feel like I want to snap and growl at people. My head aches, my muscles ache, my joints ache. I feel painfully swollen all over. And it has put me in foul mood.

I really hate the whole world right now, because everything in it hurts me.

I am sure this is a transient thing. I will probably feel better once I have been upright and hydrating for a while. This too will pass, and all that.

But I decided to write about it anyhow because I wanted to capture it in words. And I wanted to express my cranky feelings in a way that doesn’t hurt anybody.

As you all know quite well by now, I have taken a lifelong oath never to take my negative feelings out on others. That’s what my father did to us, and I absolutely cannot do it if I have any fucking say about it.

And, possibly to a fault, I do.

Is there such a thing as too much self-control? I feel like there is. You can do yourself a lot of harm with that iron self control business. Happy people probably find the happy medium, letting their emotions rule some of the time and saving the really harsh inner suppression for important occasions when there is a lot at stake.

But me, I suppress nearly everything. And especially anger. Like I said before, I don’t know how to express anger in a healthy way. It’s still 90 percent nothing and 10 percent explosion with me. The amount of latent anger I have in me due to all the pain and loneliness that I didn’t even have the ability to acknowledge to myself at the time is staggering, and if I think about it, it becomes obvious that this anger/pain reservoir is a major source of my depression.

Depression is anger turned inwards, after all. You take it out on yourself. And then you take the anger from THAT out on yourself. And so on until you have destroyed yourself like a mad golem.

My therapist thinks I should scream into a pillow or something like that in order to express it all. And he’s probably right. That might well do me a lot of good.

But I’m scared. My rage frightens me. And it’s so much easier (not better, just easier) to keep on turning my head away from it and pretending it isn’t there. I feel like if I confront it, it will explode like an atom bomb and blast me and everyone around me to pieces. Just thinking about my anger makes me feel like going on some kind of rampage of destruction.

And those are generally a bad idea.

I need some sort of emotional bomb squad to come in and disarm my anger nuke, and then maybe take it somewhere safe for a controlled explosion in a blast chamber somewhere.

Even seen one of those? They are so cool.

But of course, no such bomb squad exists. Nobody else can come in and make it so that I don’t have to deal with it myself. It’s my anger, my pain, and my wounds. Nobody can deal with them but me.

So fuck it.

Okay, not really. I want all that shit gone and for that it’s either therapy or ayuasca(sp?).

Maybe I should go find a fight worth fighting, and work it out that way. I could be a powerful force for any given cause, what with my verbal and emotive skills and deep personal convictions. But deep down I am afraid that would never be able to get people to take me seriously enough in order to get to show what I could do.

Or that it doesn’t matter how passionate and potent you are, you still have to pay your dues and work your way up, and I am not sure I could be that patient. If that was the deal, I would have to strike out on my own.

I suppose there is nothing keeping me from doing that anyhow, and to hell with the people in charge of the official part of crusading for causes. But then I would have to choose a cause and run with it, and we all know that is not going to happen.

There’s so many things which could benefit from my putting the right memes out there. That’s what I want the most. To be able to destroy bad ideas with good ones. To free people from beliefs they know deep down are wrong but can’t find a way out of. To do the articulation for people who have something to say but don’t know how to say it.

That is, I think, my highest calling. Being a thought leader. A visionary. And I could go on and on about how I don’t know how to get started, or how to get people to take me seriously, or whatever, but we all know knowledge has little to do with it.

It’s that option paralysis thing again. My creative mind sees so many possibilities. Too many. I just can’t choose.

The best I can do is put myself in a position where life can help me choose. Try a bunch of things and go with whatever seems to work out the best. Or whatever I can get paid to do. Whatever.

Going back to school should inject some momentum into my life. And soak up my excess mental energy, at least some of it. Getting organized enough to get to classes, going to the class, doing the classwork. That should take up my time.

Oh shit. I was going to do a video roundup today. I always forget!

I will do it when I talk to you nice people tomorrow.