The Smell of Desperate

I have writer's paralysis! I'd like to say something happy, or funny, or beautiful, or true, but all I have access to right now is a stack of desperate complaints. Its like my life is wrapped in bubble paper and packed into a cardboard box. It is beautiful and precious and exquisite and immense and I have been carrying it forever but I can't find the right place to put it down. It is getting heavy, my muscles are tight with lifting it. I've unpacked it before, taken it out and displayed it, but maybe the resting spot was on uneven ground. I am just exhausted with hauling my life around and not living it but I just don't know how to unpack it! I want somebody to tell me what to do, but I don't like anybody's suggestions. I know on some level that I have all the answers but I'm so tied in knots!