“Life is a fucking nightmare.”-John Mulaney
Am I really in the Truman show? Like is this all a grand joke and the Gods are watching and laughing hysterically at my misfortune? Did they laugh that one time I almost died because a bug flew into my mouth while I was driving? Do they get pleasure in watching me hate myself? Can it be?
My blood pressure soared to unexpected levels recently. I could feel my pulse in my eyeballs and I was “stress hungover” the next day. Anyone who has either had a few too many drinks or a really bad fucking day knows what this feels like. It starts with waking up in a sea of regret and thinking about every detail of the day before, essentially picking through your actions and words so thoroughly that you end up hating yourself for being yourself.
Then comes the roaring headache that doesn’t seem to want to quit. Its lingers and annoys you and there is nothing you can do to stop it. You try water to no avail, Tylenol does nothing, the pain sometimes lets up to give you a few moments of clarity and you think, “Ah, yes its over,” and the headache is all “fuck you bitch, I am just getting started.”
Then you wonder why you make such bad choices, why you put yourself in all these situations. Essentially blaming yourself for every wrong action you have ever done in your whole life that would lead up to this. Let’s not forget when this headache is so bad you would rather be dead than have it for a second longer.
Bring on the only other option in any attempt to relieve the mental and physical angst you are feeling; McDonalds. You’re magically sitting in the drive-thru wondering how you even had the strength to get there and then you order 3 cheeseburgers and some fucking french fries and you wonder if it’s abnormal to want an egg McMuffin to wash down your burgers. Yea, Ill take 3 egg mcmuffins and a Dr. Pepper. The whole time you’re nauseated and hungry, sad and glad, tired and awake. You get home, proceed to feed on all the saturated fat and then you feel a little better. The grease courses through your veins and you think you might make it out of this alive.
After a McDonalds induced 3 hour nap you wake up refreshed although your stomach is in knots and your mouth is drier than Death Valley and smells like a horse’s ass. You accept the night before, you understand that no one is perfect especially not you and that is it. Life moves on and so do we.
However, you never apologize to yourself for all the abuse you just put yourself through. This folks is my anxiety, this is me trying to cope with poor choices, this is me a lot. Except add tears, anger, frustration and a little bit of crazy talk and a creepy quiet “thought” phase where I try to prove to myself that they (my friends and family) are truly better off without me.
I am blessed to be able to think that and not act. I can say that people are better off with out me and then realize that those bitches would be lost without me, this thought is always stronger than the other. I love my people so very much. Some people think just one time that the world would be better without them and they end their lives, not knowing that their people become lost. That their people think about them every single day and are haunted by memories.
Anyways, stress hangovers, it’s real and it sucks. And so it goes.
In other news, I had a dream about a falcon. I was holding this thing in my arms and like caring for it, loving it and it was my friend. I looked up what dreaming of a falcon means because that shit could potentially mean something and it meant that everything was going to be alright. Yea, that is what it means and that was the most comforting shit I have ever heard. A week later, a falcon was sitting on the fence in my back yard. We looked at each other for quite a while before that majestic beast flew into the sunset. He was telling me I am going to be alright. I cut up an apple and stuck it in the fence right where he was sitting. Then I realized that falcons do not eat apples, they are ferocious carnivores. I left the apples anyways as a gesture of friendship. The apples remain on the fence, but I have a feeling the falcon will come back.