Feeling a little grinchy, honestly. Seeing all the warmth and camaraderie in this community is leaving me this weird mix of happy and jealous.
It's not an unkind or hateful feeling, it's just very... J. Alfred Prufrock. I haven't felt this much like somebody's leftover chopped liver in such a long time.
Or, I dunno, I feel like I should dress up like Peter Lorre and start hissing like Renfield, maybe go find a nice rock to live under with all the other pestilential animals.
I can at least try to make the process of my breakdown as entertaining and insightful for everybody as I can.
I'll be okay. Peg and I are doing fine for the moment, and I think plans to get her away from THE HUM will help both our sanity in the long run. I've got Parallax and day job to focus on.
Might still be scarce from community stuff for a while, as I fix the proverbial hole where the rain gets in, and stops my mind from wandering. Still love you; no promises about myself for a while.
I definitely need a therapy character and a place where it can exist without so much of the burden of being identifiable as me. God help me, maybe I'll take that Mayté, that turaco femme fatale, to Tapestries and bask in playing a character who's as toxic as I feel these days.
Sorry, forgot to "cw: self-pity" these again. This is all optional reading; you're basically watching my emotional sanitation engineers at work here. There's still plenty of hope and other good stuff in here, I guess.
