Pay no attention to this post.
My mind is cloudy and idle, my fingers will barely move, and I'm intoxicated with quite the assortment of invisible poisons.
It's almost not April anymore, and I just had to get an April in here.
So here it is. April brought many, many things to me. Lots of April showers.
Mostly, though, I think that April just burned me out. Rather, I burned myself out. I burned myself out in the midst of being genuinely okay for the first time in a while, and caught in several verbal snares, trying to tell the truth, trying to embrace my bastard self, trying to rise above every inconceivable failure of the day, I made the attempt to convince people that I am genuinely okay.
And it was odd. And at times, redundant. And at times, rejected.
I was, until today, shockingly unstressed. Surprisingly well. Willfully radiant. Inventive, investigative, invigorated. I'm just saying words, at this point, but I am very mentally well and it did knock me sideways with shock.
(because there is always a big BUT in my life)
I feel like an unforgivable failure. Like I've somehow been just wildly irresponsible. Like my feelings or my convictions have in some way become negated or ridiculous or just things to initiate an eye-roll. I can't take myself seriously, and I can't imagine that anybody else can. And...I'm not particularly sure how to fix it, because I've placed myself on a wild roller coaster that I have no intention of dismounting.
So I'll do that thing that I always do.
I'll run away.