Temporary insanity

I'm not sure what's wrong with me at the moment. I was flying high a couple of days ago and now this. This bitter downward spiral of emotions. It always works that way and as much as I try to get out of the way of the hurricane, I keep getting swept further and further away. Yes, eventually I come out of it relatively unscathed, but I want to learn how to avoid any damage. You know, to snap out of it. Knock some sense into me.

I get into these moods fairly frequently. I want to disassociate, to run away, to be alone. It usually follows too much stimulation, too much conversation of some kind or just too much noise in general. I don't really know what brings it on. I become irritable and impatient and basically a raging asshole, but I try to keep that hidden as much as possible. You know this.

I'm not sleeping that well. That could be a factor. It's not the roosters this time. I can feel the tension in my throat. I can feel the thumping in my chest. I'm too aware of my own physical sensations. I want to go to a happy place. Where the hell is that?

Maybe it's the mosquito bites. Maybe it's the daily application of deet. I hate that stuff. I am getting enough bites with its use and would hate to find out how uncomfortable I would be without it. At least there is hydrocortisone. Yes, I have succumbed to the pharmaceutical powers. Bastards! If I didn't, I know I would be in greater misery.

I'm also not getting any exercise. My breathing is more labored. I am not keeping to any regular exercise regimen. I just want to go for a run. To scream at the top of my lungs. Instead I walk. I try to remember to breathe. It's the best thing for me at the moment. And when I have time, I try to start my day with that. Breathing, stretching, a few exercises. A little clarity.

And then there is the food. Most people get the runs at some point. Maybe even multiple times. Not me. I think maybe I have found the cure for traveler's diarrhea. I have to find the culprit that is paving my inner road with cement and erecting a brick wall at its end. I need to drop some Metamucil carpet bombs and plant a psyllium grenade at the base of the wall and maybe, just maybe I will be normal again. Is that it?

I just need to adjust to the noise, the smells, the heat, everything. They are not going to adjust to me. Stop bitching that the tables are too short and that I keep bumping my knees. I should be fucking grateful I am tall. Stop bitching that it's too hot and my shirt is sticking. I should be grateful I am here at all. Stop bitching about my mosquito bites. I should be grateful there aren't more. That I don't have malaria. That I won't get malaria.

I need to turn it all around. Let me begin an upward spiral. Now. Please.