God, I honestly think that I feel like choking the living shit out of a whole bunch of people.

John Boehner.  Mitch McConnell.  My so-called neighbors, rude, self-centered.  The unresponsive guy who owns and runs the place.  The English Department.

I mean really, people.  What is it that people don’t understand about civil rights, when there’s so much info online on the ADA and the Fair Housing Act.

What is it that people don’t get about making simple requests, about civility, courtesy and the rest.

My experience with anger is that I generally spin out in quicksand rather than resolving anything. I try as hard as anyone to keep it in check, but I have a lot of it. I’d have to drink ten glasses of Vicodin a day not to feel it, or shoot heroin, or go back to ye olde drug of choice, alcohol. In any form, anywhere, any time.

It’s a particularly rough time in that I am therefore losing faith and confidence in other people and in myself, after making a lot of progress. Last night I cried through the entire two hours of the Downton Abbey rerun on PBS; such lucky people, to have had each other as a family, or a community of valets and footmen and chauffeurs and the rest. O to have Lady Mary’s problems, her wardrobe, her wonderful parents, her estate and suitors.

I try to understand how it is that I came to be so utterly isolated and withdrawn from my community and recently, the online community and it all mystifies me. I only know that it hurts, and that I have lost mega-amounts of trust in others.

So what I do is the next thing. It is the simplest solution; when I am afflicted with doubt and fear and frustration and anger, I do the next thing in front of me.

And– don’t knock what you haven’t tried– I rock my dolls in the dark, and something in me feels calmer.

Scary. To feel and be so alone. But I’ll stop now. Forgive me for venting. For everyone who is dealing with the eviscerating loneliness that comes on this time of year, you have my profound empathy.

 

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