I'm tired of the bullshit; everyone is. I am draining all around me because it's "what bulshit is it this time?" If it's not a leg boil then it's PTSD. If it's not that then it's my failing once again to fix things that got broken—which triggers anxiety and PTSD. I'm a leech sucking joy with my bullshit. And just when you think one turd is done and dusted there's yet more bullshit.I would hate to be in my life; to deal with my bullshit. You have joy, things are going well and then it's "what bullshit is it this time?"Fucking hell. Just fucking hell.I took myself away to give respite. I rode in the rain without battery. It was gruelling. A chest pounder to go up the slightest of slopes in the lowest of gears. I didn't have to walk it at any point but I came close. So it was an unexpected bonus; extra exercise to take some of the smell away. I think it helped. Now I just have to shut the fuck up, not inflict bullshit and basically give people a break from the bullshit. Bullshit; it never ends. Unless you're a divine being and you divert a water course through the bullshit all that happens is just more bullshit. Here's wishing I was Hercules; in addition to the most def powers there's that natty lion skin and club.