Today is just one of those days.
Where no matter what I do, what I eat, I feel… I don’t know.
And I don’t know why.
Yesterday was a wonderful day, spent soaking up the rare winter rays and visiting some of the most beautiful places in the region.
One would think that my writer’s soul is singing with glee. But no. Instead, I have this weight on my chest that I can’t define. Something like a combination of frustration and an intense desire to be alone.
Not just alone. Completely alone. That alone I get when I’m sitting at a restaurant without company. Or when I’m the only person in an entire movie theatre.
Not lonely. Just… In my own space.
I feel bad when I feel like this, because I already push my family out when I’m writing with my earphones firmly on.
But all that does is make me even more aware of the fact that I’m with people.
And as bad as it makes me feel, I’m being stifled.
Slowly but surely. Because I know that if I were to mention the fact that I need to go somewhere to be alone, it will trigger arguments, wounds and recrimminations that only get to me more.
Maybe I should just wait for it to pass.
How do you deal when unexpected feelings press up against you?