existential agony

I know not if I use this word correctly however I feel it suits my current feelings.
I am drinking a glass of beer and I am smoking a roll up as I  type this. 
I am itchy and I feel covered in an eczema-like rash. My eyes itch; my legs itch and then my back itches. I feel irritable and irritated. I just want to scratch my legs. And then my neck itches. 
But I think this itching is not anything but psychosomatic..... my shin skin feels too close to the bone and sensitive. My children today- the youngest two, have had this strange desire to be always touching me- that makes me sound strange and makes me feel autistic (in fact maybe I am autistic), but I mean wherever I am they seem to be there, clambering on me and pivoting around me like small creatures always with one hand upon me, fighting over me. And yes they are (small dependent creatures), but I feel crowded and itchy in response. My son of fourteen is like an argumentative ferret - one of which he now possesses, and even my little toe itches, though I must state the ferret lives in a ferret safe shed outside with mod cons and blankets to keep it warm, so the itching is not ferret related (for the record). To top it off I believe I have something called trichotillomania (a real mouthful for 'a compulsion to pull out ones hair)- think classic mad woman scenes and your half way there. I mean how bad can it get. It began in secondary school some 20 years ago as I deeply hated the walls that bound me into school and all it carried with it, and here I am today still yanking out strands of hair to appease in some way the existential agony in which I so frequently seem to find myself. The way I feel is a bit like a Laurel and Hardy day which my late sister -coined the expression-  called days where the universe seems intent on hurting you. It may be amusing to be met with small moments of incidental disaster (like getting a ladder in the head as you stand up, or walking into a door) but in reality these are days which hurt; where you stub your toe; raise your head and bang it on a shelf or catch your hip on a table or your pocket on a door handle or manage to knock everything down as you pass thus creating an avalanche of misery and irritating inconvenient distressing anger.
i will soon to bed as the day has nothing left for me ( i must have autism- 'a tendency to view life in terms of one's own needs and desires.... from Greek autos self+ ism' online dictionary). I mean I accept that I am pretty self obsesssed; navel gazing and wallowing in my misery, but this is all part and parcel of my existential nightmare and the ties that bind me so strong and so invisible to my psychological make-up. 
I have a piece of bedroom furniture from my darling late sister's home and I had to screw it all back together to put in my daughter's room. I mean, what the f*** happened? What is this all about....What am I doing? I think as I tighten the screws. Why is this not in my sister's room, where is she? What happened? 
And so the wheel goes spinning round unfairly and relentlessly.