Me and an anonymous person that I know, were exchanging emails today. She’s always articulate and hilarious regardless of how dark or upturned her corner of the world happens to be that day.
Preamble: It’s always fucking Mercury isn’t it. Let’s just nuke it out of the solar system. I ‘aint got time for this ish.
Kimpossible shared that:
Mercury is in retrograde, I’m hallucinating little green men in the middle of the night and my skin has more in common with alligators than human beings. I’M FUCKING WONDERFUL THANKS FOR ASKING.
No flipping way. I legit just gave the same speech to myself on the drive to work today, it goes a little something like this:
Mercury is in retrograde, it was a Pieces full moon— what in the fuck does that mean, sounds tragic enough– my baby literally shit the bed yesterday, I’m a full time maid fighting the funk from hell, my boyfriend is dying, my dog spite shit on our brand new carpet, and everyday I cry at my job. Ohhhh and on Monday I start school again.
Okay, Reg, check yourself. Mantra: you will get a job offer from Starbucks today. You will get a job offer from Starbucks today.
This is my uncensored life right now.
And then on the way home from work after a surprisingly decent day (that was either because A) I am now taking anxiety meds 30 min before I arrive every day or B) I had a full blown life breakdown to the intern on Friday including crying and she probably told my boss that I’m a sensitive little bitch, which if fine because it meant less fire and brimstone today, so #winningfornow) any-who at this stop light on the way home I had to talk my self down:
Reagon, It could be worse: you could be a Syrian refugee, you could live in Baghdad, you have never actually been involuntarily starving. Your basic needs are met. You are okay. Your basic needs are met. You are okay. This could be much worse.
That’s the place. That’s the space that I have to live in right now because I’m in full blown panic. I told J this morning that right now is literally the most anxious and emotionally unwell that I have ever been in my life. And I’ve seen some shit (again, not bombs falling on my head shit, but you know white girl shit).
Here’s something that is keeping me going (and has been since I learned about it). Adjustment Disorder. It’s one of the most commonly used “diagnosis” in therapy because most therapists don’t want a stigmatizing diagnosis following their patients around. It takes on average 6 weeks to process an “adjustment”. So when your life gets all backwards and inside out and you CAN’T FUCKING DEAL, 6 weeks later (pending that there’s not an onslaught of other horrendous things going on) you will feel better. And you will have moved on to something else, hopefully that something else is much sunnier. Six weeks. We can do six weeks.
* I feel it important to note that I have been shoving my fingers as far down my auditory canals as possible, and scrolling past all of the atrocities being committed (MURDERS, IT’S MURDER) against black men, women and children in the past (well forever) but specifically in the past few days, because I can’t deal with reality right now. However it is not lost on me that if I were born in a different body that I may very well be gunned down for absolutely no reason at all, even if I have my hands in the air and even if I am disabled. So, once more it is ALL RELATIVE*