Confused and tumultuous while in a rut

I love ruts.  Being in a rut is sometimes the only feeling of order I have in  my life. 

It can be a rut of activity;  a bout of reading, drawing, jewelry-making, blogging.

It can be a rut of ideas:  psychology and counseling, Judaism, or other ideas

It can be a rut of routine:  a daily/weekly/monthly/yearly schedule I adhere to.

But sometimes the ruts end abruptly and I'm twisting in the winds while lightening strikes.

And then, everything and nothing is attractive.  Structure is gone.  And I feel existential angst.