Entrapment and other facts of life

Being pushed to the edge yesterday and today has not helped on the writing-front.  You know when people say they felt 'sick with worry'?  That is exactly how I felt today.  I ended up having to reach for a hot water bottle, give myself a severe talking to about how I shouldn't let people get to me like this, and take to my bed for an hour's rest in the afternoon, in the hope that that would enable me to get through the rest of my evening's work.

The architect rang this evening.  I wasn't much fun to talk to, being that I am at the end of my tether.  Poor thing.  Why is it that the people we care about most are the ones who have to bear the brunt of the worst of our experiences?  I feel so sad that this is what he has to witness.  A girl falling apart under the pressure of work that feels like being stuck in an evil computer game, that straps me to its screen and keeps me there.

I'm just barely staying alive while trying to shoot down 'baddies', but the worst thing is that just when I think I can breathe and re-boot, another 50 lines of them come up and I realise I'm going to be stuck fighting for my life for yet another day and no, I cannot have a break.  When you've been going through a hundred goes of that process of getting to the last row of bad guys to kill, thinking, 'Oh maybe I can finally get some control and have my life back soon', only to see another 100 rows come up from no-where, it starts to eat away at you. You can see your life being stolen in great chunks by this struggle of mere survival.  And you just know, that this is how you will always be prevented from doing anything meaningful.  You'll never escape, because there will always be another 100 rows of bad guys to kill just as you think you need a break more than ever before.  And when you do get a break, it's only long enough to see the years of entrapment that lie ahead, spread out in front of you. There's no way out.

Please don't let me be right about this.  I don't want to always be right about the terrible, heart-wrenching, horrid things in life.  To the universe or someone out there, all I can say is: your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to prove me wholeheartedly wrong about this despairing, hopeless future that I see lying in wait for me.  Please.