Stop punching me

I’m just having one of those evenings where every new moment brings stunning levels of fuckedness. All I want right now is for my dogs to calm down, for Bill’s Garden cashew chicken to arrive and to not have to run interference on what should be a non-issue since everyone is pretty much agreed on the root of the situation.
In like 36 hours I have to head out and do something i’ve never fucking done before and live in the woods and while I am excited by the potential I am ground down by anxiety. I’m well aware of how unathletic I am, of how out of shape I am. I do not look forward to being the one to fuck up this trip in some way.
gaw. I just want this whole post to be one long scream at people. I am one giant exposed nerve. It’s pms, it’s current stress, it’s having to deal with stuff from the past, it’s shuffling through my pictures trying to find something and running across a series of my cats that I lost in the divorce and the house I lost and all the things I had to change or fight or give up or shut my mouth about.
It’ll pass. tomorrow I’ll write something goofy about how stupid I am for overreacting to stuff and I’ll make a joke about things and say ‘ha ha ha I’m off to die in a place where they’ll never find my body”
And you’ll laugh too and say “that heather, she’s so crazy!”