self-inflicted wounds

Since Friday, my life has been utterly incomprehensible. All these forgotten emotions resurfacing, all these unexpected life-altering crisis', this series of freak events, piling up, all on top of an especially weak emotional constitution. And then I exploded. As did my door handle (it stayed in my hand as I was rushing out late last night, locking me in - I insisted and jammed it back, just long enough to swing the door open and have it stay in my hand again. Why would it not let me out, this was an emergency!), as did the electricity (power failure on the entire street and computer shutdown), as did my keyboard (as I went to type an important email), as did everything and everyone I touched.

Today, I picked up the pieces. The door handle is being fixed (I can hear the owner now banging away at it). The power is back (but I lost the record of the conversation at the time on the comp, like it didn't even happen, but it did). The mail was sent and my normal mental state is back (a four hour walk was necessary). But some broken things might just stay broken. All I can do is to do nothing.