Holy emotional rollercoasters!

OK, so I'm being as zen as I can here and I'm not planning to go out drinking after work or any such thing, but man am I ever getting hit with the emotional ups and downs. Yes, I know this is all part of the process. Any chance I could be spared this part though, please, because I really don't like big emotional drama? Apparently not.

Yesterday I snapped at my partner because he suggested we eat dinner and I pointed out that eating dinner was a bad idea because then the whole day would just be over and what was the point of that. Admittedly not the most rational response. We made dinner, and ate it. It was good. There was still an evening. Crisis averted. ( I apologized today, and he didn't even remember. So he's wonderful. Which should help, and it does, but still.)

Today I'm at work, and my lovely, really lovely coworker, who I rarely see because of schedules, chatted with me while I was on my break. I made polite conversation, but in my mind I was yelling, "WHY ARE YOU TALKING TO ME NOW? IT'S A BREAK, DAMMIT!" Later another colleague did the same (aka actually spoke to me) when I was on lunch break. OK, you people, I'm thinking, do I look like someone who wants to have a pleasant conversation? Can you all not go away and let me sit silent? (Of course, if they did, I'd find that irritating. There is no winning in this little racket!)

Every day, at some point in the afternoon, I get a whopping big dose of "Get me out of here!" Some teeny thing happens and I want to yell, or I snap at someone, or I start crying for absolutely zero reason. It's all OK, I'm not planning to drink, (repeat as needed: not planning to drink, not planning to drink) but holy mother all this up and down when there is absolutely nothing wrong is a bit much! Is this what we're avoiding by drinking? Could I just stick my head in a paper bag and avoid it? Would the paper bag thing go over well at work? I'm thinking that's a no.

It will go away, I expect. Running works, and riding my bike, and eating chocolate isn't a bad substitute sometimes. But sometimes those aren't an option, and waiting out the eternity of the crazy up and down minutes or hours is a weird new hell. Ack, I say. Ack.

OK, this is me yelling and screaming like a wee spoiled brat, and that's all for now. Seventy-eight days sober, not exactly sane but that's still pretty darn fine. I'll try to take the Mary Oliver advice Christy posted earlier today. Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it. I'm going to look around here and find something to pay attention to. Come on world, astonish me. I know you can do it. Here goes!