Today I did a large chunk of work on my last major paper for my western civ class before next week's take home final.  It seems to be clicking okay because I found an image (professor wanted one this time) that fit with the ideas that I wanted to present and it should be done tomorrow.
But as I was working on it, I could feel myself having trouble focusing on it.  Trying to talk about two of my absolute worst memories -- essentially the genesis of most, if not all, of my issues, is giving me a very heavy heart.  It's just so hard to talk about them...it brings out so much pain, so much that needs to be worked on, that pinpointing an exact spot to start on is nearly impossible...I notice one of my friends has sent me some book ideas and I can't help but wonder if I can get them for my iPod Touch Kindle app so I have a stepping stone immediately, because I have no idea in the world how long it's going to take me to get over a lot of this stuff.
That feeling that the world was out to get me has done residual damage -- and heavy and that -- since it took hold: I will admit to everyone right now that after I was laid off from an accounting position I had for nearly eight years (it's still a mystery how it lasted that long), I actually saw to it that I blew up several interviews because I couldn't fight off night-before convictions that the person I was meeting with was really just setting up a trap.
There's more to that...but it's not in me to let that out tonight.