I couldn’t sleep because of what I’ll now just refer to as my Trilogy of Sad (Pain, Anxiety Depression…it just sounds cooler when I refer to it as a trilogy, as if people saw the first one in the theater and were so in awe that they had to catch the second and third editions. Except no one would ever go back for these, because they suck ass), so I decided to go downstairs and search for entertainment.
My cousin re-posted this amazing series of twitter posts that tell a short story, and I’m going to tell it to you now. I love this exotic 140 character language, and normally you can say everything in one succinct tweet. But every once in awhile, a worthy novella rises like a phoenix. This is that novella.
My cousin laughed so hard she cried. You probably read that and at least chuckled or are mildly horrified and amazed that someone would live this way. And yet…
Here’s my take. I finished this story and immediately said aloud, “THIS IS EVERYTHING.” This is 100% how I live my life. Now, I don’t mean that I’m dying of dysentery and walk around each day with poop in my purse. I mean that my anxiety eats at me every single day about little things. Sure, I chuckled, but it was was more like, “Ohhh man, this is soooo me. This is like the crazy shit I do every day personified by like a thousand (because literal feces).”
I will illustrate to you a day in my life.
- I am in a neutral or, let’s be honest, elevated state.
- A thing happens. Really, it could be anything that agitates, but something upsets the delicate balance. Like poop not flushing.
- I freak out; debate how to resolve said thing.
- I freak out some more.
- At this juncture, it’s been too long and I need to react in a way that is responsible and wise. I make a decision and hope that it’s the best one.
- It’s not, and the second I do it, I’m already regretting. The moment passes, but the decision sticks in a bad way as I replay in my mind a thousand times how I could’ve made a different decision. Or how angry I am that I still can’t come up with anything else and try to push it away.
or the alternative to this, that I make a decision but then can’t remember if I made it in the first place, and pray I made one. Did I do that thing I was supposed to do? Did I? Am I really sure? Is there a way to check and not look like I’m checking?
- Repeat infinity about everything.
- Friend or family member says something nice to me. No, I think. No good here. Only poop.
- General meltdown ensues.
- Try to forget this thing ever happened, and attempt to hide feelings from world.
And the worst part is, I know I’m not the only one who feels that way on a daily basis. Maybe you read that story and my reaction and are nodding. Or perhaps were reminded of someone you know.
I wanted to laugh so hard at this. I want to laugh all the time at everything. But I’m too worried about the metaphorical poop in my purse until all I want to do is leave the purse behind, poop and all. Now that I’m thinking about it, I am a little ill at ease that after all that she kept the purse. Ewww…
Try not to carry every little thing with you and hold onto it emotionally and physically. It gets extremely uncomfortable. Share it with someone. Or distract yourself somehow over and over again. Just know that everybody poops, and you are not alone. And don’t put it in your purse.