I'd Prefer the Itch

I will attribute to my current lack of psych-meds the fact that I hate pretty much everything and everyone, right at the moment.

Without my non-altered state to blame, I would have to say it's my job that's thoroughly soured me on humanity right now; that, and the weather, and my loneliness, and the total lack of anything approaching "fun" in my life. I'm SERIOUSLY pissed at work, which for me is unusual; suffice to say a number of giant, enormous, painfully STOOOPID things have taken place, and I'm rapidly growing weary of everyone else's "no, we can't do that; we always do THIS" attitude. They're wasting my enthusiasm and my willingness to go beyond what's expected of me, and they're crushing my morale at the same time. I'm sick of offering to help; it's always turned down, generally in a way that makes me wish I'd never said anything in the first place.

I would love to run away, right about now. Part of this misery is that I feel like I'm wasting my life living by other people's rules; I look forward to the day when I don't have anyone to justify my actions to. And that, right there, is a pretty not-nice thought to think...but my god, I'm nearly 40 and I feel like I lived for maybe 18 months, once, a long long time ago. There are so many things I want to do that DON'T have anything to do with a 9-5 job, a quiet life, and a 401k...and every day I get closer to being too old to do them. But even the slightest move toward ANY of them--something as simple as dressing the way I'd like, or wearing my hair in a way that would make me happy--requires explanation to those who see any sign of change as dangerous.

I'm fairly damn miserable, to be honest. I have the beginnings of a plan, but no energy to carry it out; all I really want to do is sleep.

But at least the itch is mostly better; there are still a few spots I find myself scratching, and my legs look like I lost a battle with a blender; but for the most part, I think the worst is over.

Now, if only my brain would play nice...