It's everything, yet nothing really....

I don't know how to explain what I'm feeling.
Today I woke up, feeling okay. Just a little sleepy but no big complaints. The morning went by fast, I was chipper and got things done at work. I was even sociable with people. I felt like one of those girls that I usually don't like who's all perky and talkative. Things seemed good. I'm such a better person at those times. Like if I went home at that point, I would probably get a lot accomplished there too. I can get on a roll and not mind the cleaning or doing the laundry. I can keep myself busy. I can have conversations with people and they actually smile at me instead of looking confused. I can feel good about myself and the tiny accomplishments I make. I can laugh at things and not take them too seriously.

But then...a few hours later...

I don't know what happened. Really it wasn't anything important. Just a few little things that I will overanalyze and take as being negative. Suddenly I am back to being the biggest fucking loser around, I have no purpose on this earth, and people suck and don't understand. I suck at this job but will never find anything better. I want to crawl under my desk and cry, or if I'm at home - bury my head in a pillow and cry. People close to me will ask what's wrong, and really I don't know. I didn't think I looked like anything was wrong but my emotions are so obvious when you look at me. All I can think about is how fucked up I am and how I deserve to be punished for it. I didn't follow the right path and now I'm getting fucking old and I'm missing my "best years." I've been saying that I'm wasting my "best years" for years now. I deserve to suffer because I'm a little crybaby who still hasn't grown up. No one likes people who can't control their emotions. It's just something you're not supposed to tell other people. You don't want to be one of those people who drags everyone else down with them. Fuck, now I'm crying. See? This is ridiculous. It's not even PMS. I know the "regular" me is in there somewhere, I just can't reach her. I've worked so hard to get back to normal, but I still slip back into this. I just can't stop telling myself horrible things. I hate being this way. I avoid my family, or I avoid leaving the house because I just can't even face the world out there. I can't make myself smile. I don't want to try to explain it to the millionth person who doesn't get it. I'm as sick of being this way as they are sick of hearing about it. I feel like slamming my face into the mirror until it breaks. But really I won't. It will pass. I know it will. I shouldn't have even written this, but I had to get it out. I hope you'll understand that it's just a part of me and doesn't represent everything I am, or everything I could be.