My Breaking Point

I'm stressed to the limit. So much so that I think my curls have gone straight. Ok, not really but I'm pretty stressed. Every day at work is an emotional rollercoaster. Sometimes it changes by the hour. Things happen, people get upset. Then things don't happen and people get upset. It's infuriating and makes me feel like I'm walking on eggshells.

All the stress and drama that I'm a part of eight hours a day, five days a week and sometimes weekends, I shove deep down until I almost can't feel it. I keep a calm expression on my face. I smile when I'm supposed to, I politely laugh at the office banter. I go on my lunch break, I come back. There's nothing on the outside showing the turmoil that's lurking just below the surface.

But lately, that turmoil has found an outlet. It's called my mouth. And unfortunately, the people I take it out on are the ones closest to my heart. Growing up I never understood the phrase, "taking your work home with you." And now I do. Because lately I've been apologizing for what is basically me being stressed and freaking out on you. Do you deserve such treatment? No. Did you ask for it? Nope. And then I pile more stress on by wondering if I apologized enough, did I not say the right thing, did I look at you wrong, did I smile just enough for you to know that I care about you?

I'm being slammed by my circumstances and it hurts. I'm hurt. I'm weak. And I need... Well, I don't know what I need actually. I know what I want. I want Him to sweep in and deliver me from all of this. Reading this post makes me think I need a good hug and an "It's going to be fine..." That or a swift kick to the head and a "SNAP OUT OF IT!"