Conversations With Anxiety: Fucking Go to Sleep Already, Whitney

The later I stay up, the more time my mind has to be an asshole.

Hey, Whitney. You aren’t going to finish your thesis. You won’t have a place to live when you move back. You suck at yoga. Your face is breaking out. You don’t have a job anymore. How does it feel to be broke? You’re pretty worthless, you know that? That person that you like doesn’t really like you all that much. You’re a terrible person for not disclosing all of your personal information from the onset like the fact that sometimes you pick your dog’s eyegoobers and then feed them to him. Your mom thinks you’re fat and your dog wants to bite you for not walking him and your best friend met your favorite basketball player and they’re going to elope and leave you behind and on top of ALL OF THOSE THINGS all of your underwear will from now on give you terrible wedgies. Sucker.

I’m taking a lot of deep breaths right now. But the slower and louder my inhale and exhale (for all those interested in yoga, that’s called Ujjayi) get, the more the thoughts race and I think about punching myself in the face because THE SHIT MY BRAIN COMES UP WITH TO MAKE ME HATE MYSELF IS SO RIDICULOUS.

Why is my brain hardwired to be a dick? I mean, I get it. I have flaws. But why, at 11:27 PM, does my brain feel the need to pick apart every single one and tell me how awful a person I am? My heart is pounding right now because my anxiety voice is having a goddamn field day.

Hey, Whitney, remember how your psychiatrist and you discussed lowering your medication when you’ve moved back and settled into a routine? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA You’re an idiot. By the by, I hate you and I think you should get your moles checked for cancer and that chocolate you ate earlier most definitely had more than the FDA allowed amount of bug bits in it–hope you enjoyed the extra protein from the cockroach, ya dickbag.Β 

I’ve learned that one of the only things that calms me down when my brain gets this crazy is writing all of this shit out. Because a lot of what I wrote up there is true. But then I start exaggerating because it makes me laugh and makes me feel less nervous. For instance, I don’t think my dog wants to bite me or that my mom thinks I’m fat, but I am kind of worried that my dog is upset for not being walked and my mom’s noticed that the base of my food pyramid is chocolate and I’m going to eat all of hers because I know where she hides the good stuff. (Sorry, Ma.)

I guess sometimes I just need to see how ridiculous all my anxieties are. That’s what it takes to quiet my mind enough to let me sleep. Sure, some of those anxieties are real and need to be dealt with, but most are my brain hyperbolizing because that’s what a GAD brain does in its spare time.

 

 

I wish it would do something cool, though. Like inscribe me with fighting skills a laΒ The Matrix.

I now know Kung Fu. And also how to properly identify a cancerous mole.

 

24 Comments

Jesus H T F Christ! I’m really glad you found a way to make us laugh while ridiculing that ridiculous brain of yours πŸ˜‰ I’d be tempted to just slap the shit out of my brain if it tried that crap with me. Seriously, way to go!

This is perfect, you are perfect. This is so relatable. Thank you for putting into words what my brain also does at night because it can. You have personified a person with anxiety’s brain so perfectly I could kiss the floor at your feet. I applaud you!

I laughed out loud with relief at recognising the sentiments in your opening sentence. Must remember that next time I am feeling overwhelmed and inadequate. Check my watch. Yep, it’s bound to be bedtime. I’m still smiling. Thanks for sharing your “bedtime battle”. I see there are other people nodding along too with their likes. Keep writing!

I am actually relieved reading the unfortunate mess that your brain is in because for a really long time I thought I was the only one who needed to replace that junk that tries to ruin my life! πŸ˜€

Ha, I know exactly what it’s like to have a mind that won’t shut up at night. It’s become more a of a problem lately. Maybe I should follow your example and let it out someway or another.

I think everyone’s brain can be a bit dick-ish once in a while. Anxiety is tough man, I have to deal with it too. Keep your head up, though; I can tell you are going to be great. πŸ™‚

Reblogged this on SKRiV and commented:
**

In dwelling, live close to the ground.

In thinking, keep to the simple.

In conflict, be fair and generous.

In governing, don’t try to control.

In work, do what you enjoy.

In family life, be completely present.

**

This is brilliant. Thank you for sharing that your brain does weird things after 11pm (mine does, too). This is comforting news even though I wish your brain wasn’t doing that. Bad news: your brain will likely keep doing that. Good news: you can turn it into a book : ) Hooray!

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