I need to breathe

I’m just sitting here getting angrier and angrier. It feels like sitting in front of a fire. No matter where I turn, that side gets warm too. No, maybe its more like walking into a pool of water. If I keep walking, more of me gets wet, but if I stand still, I’m still not dry because I’m still in the water. Or maybe it’s like induced childbirth. The pain keeps hitting you, you can’t get on top of the contractions because they started out too big and the painkiller doesn’t work.
Evidently the band-aid that I’ve slapped on my broken brain is only good for minor scrapes and boo boos. It can’t handle PMS, family pressure, stress, constant waves of disappointment and worry coupled with my normal malfunctioning synapses.
Its not so much not being in my happy place as being in the dark place. Deep down in the dark desperate black. The black that has that angry red tone when exposed to the light. The dark that sends me looking for a closet with a door that can shut out all the light and noise and smells and the business of life. I’m too old for a closet now, it would just look weird, but today I need to be removed from people. People suck and I don’t want them around me, no matter who they are. This next remark should not be taken to heart by the people who think that it doesn’t pertain to them: people suck; even the best most wonderful people in the world are manipulative using the love and care and devotion and loyalty in others to satisfy their own means and ends.
I love my family and friends but right now I just wish I were free of the constant outside bombardment of need and justification and secrecy and relief. It’s a physical thing that tires me and wears me down to the ground. I need to breathe.