Houston...

...we've got a problem.

When it gets to the point that I'm bawling after a driving lesson, there's probably an issue.

I'm not entirely sure why I'm so self-critical, or why even writing this on a public computer at the law school is bringing me to tears, but it needs to stop. I don't entirely understand it-- even fumbling a bit in class today in front of all of my classmates when I obviously didn't adequately know the reading wasn't as emotionally draining.

I don't know why I break myself down in the way that I do, but hopefully I'll learn to stop.

I get it. I am a bad driver when thousands of 16 year olds do this stuff in their sleep. And yes, I know, I know-- experience, not everyone picks it up as fast, whatever. Yes, my driver is an overly smarmy 50something who talks to me as if I am a child, further exacerbating my rage at myself.

And then I beat myself up even further for being crazy/not manning up/not being able to go out in public without breaking out into tears. It never ends! I am my cruelest enemy.

My shirt is practically drenched with sweat. My head hurts. Like, what is all this!? And it wasn't even *that* bad-- I mean, I drove, got berated a bunch of times, same old same old.

Blah. Happy Halloween!

[I swear, there's a lot of good stuff to write about; I'll eventually sit down and do that at some point.]

And if you've got room.

If there is something I am tired of hearing, it is, "this is too hard for me."

Boo hoo hoo.

I have just about exhausted my fucking sympathy.

Oh, distance, you will be the death of me. Three times now! I must be a slow learner. It might actually be time for me to close the heart off for good.

We'll see how things go. But I'm prepared.

Another breakup-makeup post. Haven't done those in a while.

[See? I am back. Sort of.

If you've got room.]