To sometimes let the cracks crack

Lately I feel that every moment of everyday is spent trying to keep my inner turmoil from forcing its way through my plaster smile of a dam.  A sea of tired, boiling with anger and frothing with worry is constantly smashing against the backside of the smile blocking the man made bottle-neck of a channel.  I can feel the gentle grin degrading into clenched, grinding teeth as each day races on.  Every dam with a forceful flow behind it must have.a vent.  A place where the power of the ocean building can escape.  Theater and writing were always those vents for me.  Responsibility and opinions of others have recently sealed over those vents leaving me with a sea of daily torment behind a quickly deteriorating friendly face.  I will pick and claw and dig and pull at the patches until I can once again remember how to smile again rather than just push my teeth together to hold back the flood.