Crazy But Not

Stress sucks.

And regardless of more positive spin than I can stand, there are moments when I dip into the well of negativity and come up with something so heavily endowed with metaphors for being pissed, angry, upset, stressed, worried, and you name it, that my pen turns to poison and you get something reminiscent of something I might have written with my internal eighth grader at the wheel.

It happens...

And when it does, I post it here. Like I've said before, I don't always control the things I write when it's my heart that determines the things I need to say.

Therefore put your phones down!

I am not on the verge of a mental breakdown. I'm not thinking of finding a very tall bridge with no water underneath it anywhere. And I'm certainly not going to go the route of Sylvia Plath, Virginia Wolf, Anne Sexton and countless others who forged mountains with their words and left heartache in their wakes.

I simply have bad days and people I'd like to throttle. And fourtunately, enough self control to stop myself from doing so, though the temptation is like an oyster with the promise of a bright, shiny pearl inside.