Pisspot Periwinkle

No, not the child.  Me.  Although she does have her moments.

I don't know what the hell my problem is lately but my general mood has moved beyond cranky to pissed off at the world.  Sudden bursts of anger come out of nowhere over the tiniest things.  It's like I just snap, and it's happening more and more often.

It's been a rough couple of months.  Since Punky started daycare in January, it's been all downhill.  Between her being sick all the time, me being sick, her dad being sick, missing time from work constantly, juggling finances, work stresses, traveling, family problems, and all the other bullshit of daily life, I think I've simply cracked.  These little bursts of anger are like a desperately needed release valve, otherwise my head may literally explode. 

And the more stressed I get, the more Punky's dad's annoying habits get under my skin, so home life has been quite rocky as well.  People generally learn to overlook the small stuff in a relationship.  You have to, otherwise you risk stabbing your significant other between the eyes with a steak knife.  But when times are tough, and your sanity seems to be hanging by a thread, all that previously overlooked small stuff shines through tauntingly.  And lately I've been taking the bait.  There's been plenty of eye rolling, mumbling, bitching, yelling, and not-so-subtle glares at the wooden knife block on the kitchen counter. 

Another major player in this piss-a-thon is my thyroid.  I was doing so well keeping it in check, but I fell off the wagon over the course of the last few weeks.  Weekend trips home plus oversleeping most mornings lately have put a kink in my usual routine.  I'm supposed to skip one a week...I think it's been more like three or four lately.  I'm sure part of my irritability can be blamed on the resulting hormone imbalance, but not all of it.  

Part of the credit also goes to a bout of insomnia like I haven't experienced in years.  I have an occasional bad night here or there, but I haven't had a stretch like this for years.  No matter what I do, I can't seem to get to sleep before two at the earliest, and the alarm rings at six.  I've been averaging two to four hours a night now for weeks.  And it shows.  Most days I feel like someone punched me in both eyes.  

So, what came first?  The chicken or the egg?  I have no clue.  Maybe the stress is causing the insomnia, which led to the oversleeping, which contributed to the thyroid mess up, which in turn is fueling the irritability.  Or maybe the insomnia has left me so utterly exhausted that I can't even cope with everyday life, thus causing me to feel so incredibly stressed and unable to focus on such mundane things like swallowing that damn little pill in the morning, which again is contributing to the piss fest.  Or maybe my utter lack of discipline in taking the meds started the ball rolling and the resulting bad mood is fueling the overwhelmed, stressed, life spinning out of control feeling that is in turn causing a severe bout of insomnia.  Ah, who the hell knows. 

All I know is that I seem to have a bone to pick with everybody these days.  People are pissing me off left and right.  I'm having trouble dealing with everyone's attitudes, and I'm tired of feeling like I'm on the bottom of everyone's list.  And, as usual, I've been quietly taking it all in for months, trying to keep the peace, family harmony, and all that other shit. 

Punky and I went home again last weekend for a bunch of things...dentist appointment, hair cuts for both of us, my niece's first birthday party, and an anniversary party for my aunt and uncle.  Because the last one was held even farther south, we faced a four hour drive home on Sunday.  We almost didn't make it.  It took everything I had to steer toward home.  I wanted to drive somewhere, anywhere far away, and just start over.  Knowing no one.  Having nothing but the clothes we packed for the weekend and the cash in my checkbook.  Thirty-eight years old and I want to run away.  Can you believe it? 

So, needless to say, this funk has cut into my will to write.  It's taking me a week to finish one post lately.  I hope this storm passes quickly but for now no end is in sight.  I keep telling myself I just need to hang in there until vacation; maybe it will do me some good and help turn this mood around.  It's still a month away and it seems like an eternity.  

Who knows?  Maybe the world will end on Saturday and none of this will matter anymore.  Now there's a group deserving of a steak knife reality check.  Idiots.