Bound For Tears, But None Came

Bruises. I have 4 on my right leg, no more than 3 inches apart from each other. I also have a few on each of my wrists. I jammed both of my thumbs tonight. I couldn't breathe. Needless to say, I died tonight. I feel like every year of band gets a lot more hardcore than the last, and it's harder to keep up. I can remember standing on the 50 yd. line tonight, in the crouch I start the show, praying to God I make it through this run. We made it through, but not forgetting the breathless counting or rolling back of tired eyes. I came home, so dead, and with the urge to just break down and cry. The little things were getting to me. I finally couldn't take the fact that the carpet bunched up under furniture. I kept tripping over it, so I asked my brother to help me fix it. In the bathroom, OCD kicked in and I wasn't satisfied unless I cleaned off the vanity area. At one point [many actually], I began the sobs of complete hopelessness, but tears were not produced. I truly did feel hopeless. I am probably making the issues bigger than they are, but that is just the way my mind functions. I am very grateful to have him around because he brought me back to a state where I was able to calm myself. At one point, I was ready to fall into full-on cardiac arrest. My mind was that stressed. It isn't as bad anymore. I had a large coffee and I really think that pushed me to actually work! Photo is of about 3 of the mentioned bruises. Wow, my leg looks really awkward!