What is the Edge we all have? And How do we Take it Off?

Every day I come home and look for something to take the edge off. But why do I always have to have an edge? What makes me so irritable just living? Is it that I am not happy with where I am at now, and that I have no certainties of where my future will go, or is it that the general nature of my life has me repeatedly working for the weekend, only to see it flash before me. Monday hits like a crashing wave you knew was there but didn’t see coming. Or do I have an edge because of circumstances I cannot control — big ones. Ones that I was born into, ones that diminish my influence to a point where it doesn’t exist. Voting in this democracy, the general chaotic state of our country, the philosophic dilemma of having been born into Christianity only to cast spite towards it now, and more general things like slow drivers, tea drinkers, and having to work in a repetitive cycle, pretending that everything is all okay — just to name a few. How can I change this and what can I do? Is there a remedy? An Analeptic? Perhaps… but god does this Monday already feel like a Friday, and I just don’t have the energy to think through it all at this moment. I honestly don’t have any reason to be upset. I already won the lottery. American, white, born into a wealthy family, good education. Born that way. Maybe that’s where my frustrations lie. Have I ever really earned anything? Of course I’ve worked hard, but how much of that was really me, and how much of it was my circumstantial advantage and leg up on the rest of the world? How heavy was their crutch? Or did they not even have one, and were forced to do it on one leg alone? And don’t get me wrong, I know the burdens that plague my mind pale in comparison to real problems. I have an apartment, I have food, a car, I have every resource and yet I have an unsettled mind and no peace. No Peace. Drive dwindles and eventually disappears altogether. Work ethic and hard work only last so long before the mundane sets in and causes a slow, ever so painful (because you can feel this one happening) rigor mortis. Either that, or the manual labor job you have will get you first and infiltrate your body with arthritis, back spasms, head aches, and bruises; and it will take your will, your thought, and the cartilage from your knees. So here it is. I search for an edge off — the removal of the edge, because once its gone, I am left to think of memories. I am free to think of them — any of them. With memories come the ever so delightful, but ever so fleeting reminder of what we have accomplished. The good, the bad, the fondness of being able to look back and relish and regret. Looking back, finding the thoughts and memories more fulfilling than the result or the present, nothing like de nos jours.