I'm a mess. Just let me be.

Today, at work, I sobbed in my office for a solid two hours.

I won't regale you with the details of why I sobbed in my office for a solid two hours but let's just say I'm having a rough day.

A really rough, rough day.

(But I did stick to my diet and eat my good, healthy lunch. Only because there were green beans involved. Without the green beans I'm pretty sure I would have lost my shit completely.)

I find that I'm the kind of person that walks the line kind of shoddily while still managing to get it done. For the most part I'm a semi-functioning adult type person with some serious emotional issues. But then somedays, I just fall the fuck off the tight-rope. Then comes the nose-dive into the moat of muck that surrounds my emotional stability. While I'm down there I usually take a couple of days to wallow around in it. Get myself good and covered. Just to convince myself that indeed, I do want to be out of the muck. There is no good that comes out of muckraking. Especially when you're the one in the muck being a rake.

I don't know why I don't cop to it. If I would come to terms with my eventual lapses of sanity I would be much happier. Hell, if I could see them coming I could just prepare for them and at least warn people.

'I'm sorry Anna cannot come out to play today. She's going to blow a gasket in about 3 hours.'

Knowing about your shit and doing something about it are two completely different things. I heard that in an episode of Grey's Anatomy and I swear to God I'd tack it up on my bathroom mirror if it didn't make me look like a total loony tune. But it's true.

I'm grateful to everyone in my life who realizes this about me and loves me anyway. It's rough sometimes and I realize that. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry.

You'll have to excuse me. I must go. I have an appointment for my mud muck wrap.