You guys probably don't know who Allie Brosh is, but she has been making me laugh for a few years now. Her blog is Hyperbole and a Half. She hasn't posted since October of last year due to horrible depression. My sister in law Rachel turned me on to her, so here you are. Enjoy. (please ignore the laziness of this post and the fact that I am using someone else's shit to amuse you. I'll do better, I promise)
Most of the time, I'm pretty even-tempered.
Aside from the odd nervous breakdown or caffeine-induced bliss-seizure, I have
the emotional variation of sand. However, every once in a great while, I'll
lapse into what I like to call a "sneaky hate spiral."
Sneaky hate spirals begin simply enough. In fact, that is
one of the hallmarks of sneaky hate spirals - they are merely the confluence of
many unremarkable annoyances.
Your day begins poorly.
Before you've had a
chance to recover from your unpleasant awakening, you are pummeled by a series
of unfortunate events. There are probably some loud and/or persistent sounds
mixed in there, too.
frustrations start to happen more quickly. They ping against your psyche like
hundreds of tiny pebbles.
Eventually, the sum of the small
annoyances begins to exceed your capacity for patience and rational thought.
All it would take to send you over the edge into a bottomless pit of angry
hysteria is just one more tiny, little thing...
The turning point is usually a minor but slightly
jarring incident, initiated by some force of nature that cannot be blamed or
scolded - like gravity or sleeplessness or wind. That last specification is
very important. In order to send you into truly batshit crazy hysterics, the
final straw must cause anger that cannot rationally be directed outward in any
Your worn patience plus the inability
to blame anything for your misery causes a chain reaction to take place inside
The rage enters your body, but cannot exit through
either the blame or personal responsibility pathways. It therefore must travel
to the very center of you where it will fester and eventually rupture.
When enough anger and hatred has accumulated
inside of you, it will rupture through your pathetic sense of integrity and
start spewing outwardly as if you are some sort of rage sprinkler, spraying your
putrid hate all over anything that comes near you.
You are officially out of control. At this late
stage, there is no way around it. You are simply a helpless passenger in your
psychotic war-machine of a body.