This journal has been placed in memorial status. New entries cannot be posted to it.
I don't like being angry. I like it even less when I don't have any evident cause for anger. What's going on inside isn't anger - and no, I can't explain what it is, because I don't know myself, it being at the subverbal level where I don't process effectively - but it seems to be manifesting in anger, which I'm trying very hard not to show, because it's utterly unjustifiable.
There's something broken today in me, and I don't know what. But I like it not in the least.
I am also, paradoxically enough, very happy and feel greatly loved. I held a five-week-old baby in my arms today, fed him, and crooned him to sleep. I'm very good with babies. I've been with dear friends, eaten and laughed and talked with them. I'm stunningly lucky and blessed.
In some ways the paradoxical state is worse than either being inexplicably angry or explicably joyful.
Tomorrow is going to be a very busy day. There were lots of things I'd wanted to get done this weekend, but time and chance happened. Tomorrow I'll catch up on many, if not all, of them.
I'm very glad you're here. All of you.
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