Low

I'm balanced right in between losing it and keeping it together.  I'm not sure which one I want more.  Of course, yes, I'd like to be strong and fierce and fight off despair in some heroic way, but there's something to be said for just plain losing your mind - when you're done you're exhausted and low and you collapse.  You can expend all your grief and fury all at once, a typhoon, whirling dervish, tasmanian devil.  Then you sleep, empty of everything, and start climbing back from the lowest point.

I'm tired of bad news, and being graceful and accepting in defeat.  Well, attempting to be graceful in defeat.  (I think I tend towards bitterness and whininess and miss graceful entirely, but I do try.)

 I'm really tired of being last choice for all the things I want.  Even if I could keep my mind off of past and future and fix it firmly to the moment, I'm tired of being useless in this moment.  I just realized I am supposed to be in the scene that went by - turns out, I've missed it the last few times, and no one has noticed.  That's how much I'm getting done onstage this summer.

I'm tired of feeling like I've failed at every career goal I've ever had.

I'm tired of being underemployed. I don't mind working hard for my money, and I don't mind not having piles of it, but not being able to earn enough to keep ahead of the rent is starting to make me panic.

I'm tired of being a disappointment to my family.

I'm especially tired of being a disappointment to myself.

And of course, you gracious four, somedays five, people who occasionally stop by to read this, I'm tired of not having better news for you.  Trust me, no one misses me being joyful more than I do, and I hate that shame and disappointment is all I have to offer.

Come on, wheel of fortune, turn.  TURN.