Panic is setting in.

I know that I have trouble keeping perspective on things. "This too shall pass"...I KNOW it, of course - but in that moment when everything inside seems twisted outside and I just want to scream and tear at my hair and generally melt down, it's not so helpful - those things that I rationally know. So these days I'm having a little trouble keeping the panic down somewhere around belly level - not letting it surge up into my chest, my throat, finally spewing tragically out of my mouth. Incidentally, my stomach's hurt for days - but I have a feeling that's better than letting loose my demons, my internal disasters on the entire world. What might feel good is curling up in a ball and crying for a few weeks. It most likely would feel awful though, as those things do - puffy face all stopped up, red, and blotchy - eyes worn out and dried out -

Usually, if I can pull the thought train up to a stop right around this point, I can take a deep breath, blow out the smoke, and come back to myself, to the world of enjoying the small miracles, the everyday joy of living. But not always - I'm trying it right now and it doesn't seem to be working. I'd like to start shrieking and crying in fact. I won't. But that's where I am.

I'm sleepy. I'm working too many jobs and I've been working too many jobs for too long and I'm highly educated (not TOO highly...), I'm talented, I'm hard working - and I don't understand why I keep doing this to myself - working myself to the bone for a few dollars here, someone throwing me a little bone there...it's pathetic. And I'm acting as though I'm a worker bee. Like I have nothing true to offer but all of my time and energy. And of course, everyone works their asses off, but often people get to at least enjoy a beer after work with their colleagues. I, on the other hand - have to run off to another job - never getting to enjoy or reap the benefits of the inside jokes, the comradery of working your asses off together.

I get one day off a week (most of the time) - and lately, B. has been working especially hard on those days. Which means I virtually never see him.

I'm feeling more outside of things than ever. I'm exhausted, and can't seem to figure out a practical way NOT to be exhausted. I don't have five minutes for a phone call with a friend, much less an actual social encounter. I'm an outsider - everywhere I am, and I just want to go inside - curl up, share a cup of coffee and a laugh.

I miss those days - the days of sharing things.