Tag Archives: anxiety

Weather Related Thought Spiral

Guess I’ll put away my puffy coat and grab my spring trench for the next 10 hours because NOTHING MAKES SENSE ANYMORE.

To be clear, the seasonal affective part of me is thrilled with this randomly warm, if only for half a day, weather. But the anxious part of me worries that The Walking Dead is happening for real. 

I understand that The Walking Dead has nothing to do with weather. But, like, you get it. The apocalypse. Death to mankind. Widespread chaos and destruction. 

I’m not saying I actually believe any of this, I’m just saying that I bought some guns. 

Because better safe than sorry and besides, it was SO EASY. 

I just walked into the store screaming THE APOCALYPSE IS COMING and the guy behind the counter shrugged his shoulders and sold me 11 semi automatics. 

I forgot why I started writing this. 

  

It’s Like I Always Say– Nothing Good Happens After 9pm

Last night….

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Fair. And true.

But this is exactly the kind of hazardous situation I find myself in when I linger in society past sundown– two young people were having a perfectly lovely first date and I interrupted it, arms flailing, screaming, “Little Michael?!?! Is that YOU?!?!?”

Zero chance he got laid after that.

I’m never leaving the couch again.

Sorry, Little Michael.

(For interrupting your date. And for calling you “Little Michael.” Last night and in this post. Also, sorry about this post).

Lessons in How to Handle a Biopsy

Eleven days ago I had a biopsy done because my doctor saw something that looked, as he so eloquently and not at all alarmist-ly put it, “less than impressive” (what every woman wants to hear from a man staring up-close at her half-naked body…but I digress).

Since then, I have spent 11 days googling and thought-spiraling myself into a diagnosis of about 568 different versions of cancer. (Are there even that many kinds of cancer, you ask? Well, the answer is YES, if you count all the varying combinations one could have. Because some people have ankle cancer and eyebrow cancer at the same time, guys). So in the past week and a half, I’ve been having pounding heart palpitations, shortness of breath, sweating profusely, plagued by nightmares, and overall haven’t been able to relax. At all.

My doctor just called and everything is completely fine. The results were 100% normal.

So clearly, there’s a lesson here.

If you make yourself sick enough with worry and completely destroy your mental health (and the mental health/patience/will to live of those around you) for 11 solid days, God will say “Ok, everyone here has suffered enough” and reward you with a clean bill of physical health.

So YOU’RE WELCOME FOR THE ADVICE.

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Social Anxiety Thought Spiral

That moment when you get in the elevator and press “Lobby,” but there’s a man coming down the hall pushing a cart and yelling “Hold the elevator please!” so you quickly press the “Door Open” button, and hold it down firmly.

Except that the “Door Open” button you’re pushing is actually the “Door Close” button, and you hit it by accident because you are tired and have A.D.D. and are also a little dumb, but mostly because the “Door Close” button looks EXACTLY FUCKING LIKE the “Door Open” button, and really this is the fault of elevator-makers everywhere.

So the door closes on the man’s cart (because again, you are furiously pushing the “Door Close” button). And he watches you as you continue to push the “Door Close” button, and the door continues to close on his cart.

Then he miraculously makes it inside the elevator, despite your (unintentional, but nonetheless vicious and repeated) attempts to sabotage him.

And it is at THIS point, as you are riding down in silence and staring at that uncooperative button, that you realize your error. And you realize that he knows exactly which button you were pushing. And that he must assume you were purposely trying to close the door on him, because no one is dumb enough to push that hard and that repeatedly on the wrong button.

And he’s staring at you and shaking his head.

And he’s black.

And you want to scream out, “It was an accident! I’m not racist! I swear! I am happy to share this elevator with you, sir! I voted for Obama! I have black friends! I FUCKING LOVE OPRAH!!!”

But you’re pretty sure that’ll make it worse.

So you just hang your head down and accept that you’re a racist now.

Just a big, dumb, ignorant racist who won’t let innocent minorities through the door.

You’re basically the exact opposite of what this country stands for.

You’re disgusting.

You should run for president!!!!!!!!! IMG_1451

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