Split Knuckle

And then I punched my Ethan Allen hardwood desk, because I knew I could hit it without breaking it (thank God I never downgraded to Ikea) and I had already shattered my bluetooth against my bedroom wall (I mostly fixed it).
Why?

1. because I am an a$$hole
2. because I was totally misunderstood and couldn't effing articulate it without exploding
3. because I am still mad about something that happened in December/January
4. because I was mad about being misunderstood
5. because between hating my job 60% of the time, the wedding planning, the money problems, the living at home still, my pending review for which I had not completed my self-evaluation and the lateness of the hour, I was stressed times a million
6. because I wished some people had followed through. and that others had been up front with me
7. because I regretted bringing it up
8. because men see things/issues in very clearly defined literal terms and women are about feelings and they don't translate well it seems
9. because no matter what it comes down to, I still feel like a jerk, even though I didn't mean what I said how I said it

10. because even after crying and throwing my bluetooth, I still had this pain/empty/hollow/stinging feeling and it wouldn't go away. So I punched my desk as hard as I could, hoping I wouldn't break my hand, have to drive myself to the ER at midnight and have to explain that I punched something because I have a bad temper and spend half the night reassuring a social worker that I was OK, things at home were fine, blah blah. I didn't break my hand, I just f*cked it up bad enough that it really really really hurt. And you know what? It felt really f*cking good to be able to point to it and say "THAT. That is what hurts. Nothing else."

But now it's infected. And it didn't really solve anything. And now I just feel hollow again, but can't punch hard enough with my left to get that competing stimuli to drown out the sad. So I'm going to try to not do that again. And I'm going to try and not be a jerk, but I will probably fail, because sometimes, I suck like that. Ugh.

Maybe something nice tomorrow. Maybe.