Tears of a Clown

It’s kind of wild to watch yourself lose control. It’s like being trapped in a sound-proof glass box while someone else controls your body; you see yourself say and do all these things that you hate, and no matter how hard you punch and kick and yell at the box, you can’t break out of it and stop yourself.

I haven’t worn pants since Sunday. I haven’t eaten much, and I definitely haven’t gone outside. Sometimes I don’t do anything but sit in bed and stare at the wall, hoping that I’ll fall asleep, and that today will be over.

It’s getting worse. Usually I can fight it off, but I’m getting tired now. I know that I should stop drinking, that I should find a job, that I should work out like I used to, that I should reach out to my friends and see if they’re okay, even if I’m not. I know I should do all of these things, but I can’t for some reason. It’s like my car is out of gas, and the nearest gas station is 20 miles away, and I’ve got to crawl there.

I really just want to pretend I’m okay. My mom told me the other day that she feels pain when I’m hurt, even from small things. I don’t have the heart to hurt her by telling her how miserable I am. My parents are amazing, they’ve given me every advantage they could, they’ve loved me even though I’ve been a piece of shit, and they deserve to live the rest of their lives in happiness.

I want to be better. I want to make my family and friends proud, but I don’t know if I can. My friends haven’t noticed that I’m slowly losing my mind, but I’ve worked very hard to keep it that way. I don’t want them to worry about me, and I definitely don’t want them to tell my parents, there’s already enough pain in the world today, I don’t want to add any more to it.

What The Fuck Am I Doing?

I’m not a functional person right now. I’m trying to fix that though. I just wish I could skip all the annoying middle parts and go straight to being awesome.

I always question the things I do, how do you ever know if you’re doing what’s best for you? I wish it was easier to figure out.

My ego loves the idea of muscling through adversity, but let’s be real here, there are millions of people who would kill for the life I’ve taken for granted. Life’s hard, but I’m not sure I’m ready to deal with it by myself.

My parents are getting older, and the idea that they won’t be there every step of the way is terrifying. They’re the best people I know, and they mean the world to me. I hope we make some improvements in medicine so that my dad can live long enough to go to space, and that my mom can meet my kids, if I ever have any. I want them to enjoy the rest of their lives, they’ve done enough to be allowed to relax a bit.

I think this website will be one of those things I look back on in 10 years and groan about, like the “newspaper” I made in middle school, or the Applebees campaign I came up with last week. It’s helpful for me to write all this shit down though, so I can see it and realize how dumb most of my random thoughts are. Maybe all that embarrassing crap is important to who I am as a person now. Or maybe it’s just bullshit I should drink away. I’ve also been having these weird dreams where I die in super mundane ways, like slipping on soap in the shower, or getting hit by an asteroid. I’ve always liked the idea of having a vault of unreleased material discovered after you die, so maybe that’s why I keep having gnarly dreams about dying.

Does anyone’s life plan actually work out the same way they thought it would? Does it even make sense to plan things out, given the unpredictable nature of life? Fuck, man, I wish Google answered questions like that, instead of pointing me towards the closest Starbucks.

I Hate the Holidays

Christmas is a time of joy and celebration. At least, that’s what it’s supposed to be. For me, Christmas is a giant pain in the ass. Don’t get me wrong, I love spending Christmas Day with my parents, but everything else just sucks.

When I was younger, I thought the Christmas Spirit was a real thing, because everyone seems happier during the holidays. Turns out, the Christmas Spirit is bourbon. Now that I’m older, I totally get why the adults seemed happy and cheerful: they were drinking to decompress from the stress of the season.

Christmastime especially sucks when you’re underemployed. I work a bullshit job that I hate, and all my relatives have kids who’ve gone off to work for NBC, or law school, or medical school, or are married already. When I tell them that I’m single, graduated, and living at home, they look at me the same way I look at people who play music loudly in public without headphones.

That’s another thing, whoever said “Christmas is the most wonderful time of the year” has never been yelled at by a 75-year old man because their eggnog latte “didn’t taste enough like eggnog” People are stressed out this time of year, and it makes them extra shitty sometimes, and we’re supposed to just smile through it?

I know I’m going full Bah Humbug here, but it’s true, Christmas sucks. The only things I like about it are 1) getting a tree and decorating it with the folks, 2) listening to the Frank Sinatra Christmas album, and 3) getting my parents gifts I know they’ll love. That’s it.