I’ve been feeling anxious the last couple days. Â Don’t know why. Â Maybe it’s my poor diet? Â I really gotta exercise my butt off this week. Â I hate that feeling of dread, tension, anxiety. Â I must rise above it– tune to a different frequency.
At least the weather is supposed to be pleasant and not too hot. Â I got in the car yesterday and the digital thermometer on my dashboard read 114 degrees!?!
Still haven’t watched Burn Notice.
You won’t truely rise above it until you confront the underlying causes.
Beer and salty foods? I doubt it. A more likely culprit are the neverending shit-missiles launched towards you by your everyday existence. You are approaching middle age, and due for the existential meltdown that is both neccesary and far from cliche’.
Hence my previous comment from another post. Affirm your life, and remain cognizant of your real purpose and place on this Earth. Hint: It’s not what society has led you to believe. Sweat minutae only as long as it takes to decide and act, and ponder those bigger problems from a perspective of your limited time to enjoy the results of your actions.
In the end we are all dust. Marry, have children, Love and above all….Live. When you wade out of the torrent of “should do this” and “must do that”, the real meaning of your life can take you by surprise.
Yes. I need to hear those things. You are right. And I am already experiencing that meltdown of sorts. Time, age, & missed opportunities are haunting me at every turn. Living and loving is hard to achieve when your entire existence is fixated on simply surviving. It sucks being proletariat.
It is as hard as you want to make it, and will always be harder than your abilities equip you to deal with it. That is the game. Once you identify it, you may declare yourself the winner, and no one can prove otherwise.
I suspect “surviving” to be your euphemism for the struggle to the capital wealth of the bourgeoisie. When you redefine survival to mean the ability to not be dead, you will have taken an important step.
We are the only species able to convolute such a simple truth, at the cost of immeasurable stress.
Meditate upon the ancient words of a classical American composer, and ye may overcome your existential dread (but probably not). Remember however to never sweat the petty things…just pet the sweaty things.
“I Need Your Help, Barry Manilow” by hall of fame composer Ray Stevens
“My account is overdrawn, my car slid down the hill
I’m givin’ up, I’ve got no more to give
My beagle bit the vet, and my daughter’s on the pill
And my ficus plant has lost it’s will to live
I owe Mastercard my life, I’ve got adolescent skin
My doctor says I can’t use any salt
My waist is getting thick, but my hair is getting thin
And my house is on the San Andreas fault…
I need your help, Barry Manilow
I’m miserable and I don’t know what to do
Sing me a song, sing it sad and low
No one knows how to suffer quite like you
My shrink is out of town, my love life is a joke
My ex-wife sold my diary to Rona
All my ashtrays are overflowed, and I don’t even smoke
And my sinuses came back from Arizona…”
BUT SERIOUSLY….
Your mental well-being is interwoven with your physical well-being. Years ago I used to run 10K races AND operate a lawn care business ON TOP of my regular 8 to 5 desk job. Sounds crazy, but the physical exertion elevated the endorphins in my brain, and I actually woke up feeling good. If you have a bicycle, ride it regularly. Start jogging a little. You don’t have to be Lance Armstrong…just get sufficient oxygen to your brain….it is a great stress reliever and mood elevator. Along with other activities which are best left to your imagination.
I’ve also been feeling terrible lately. Last night I had a huge tearful meltdown for over an hour. I hoped I would feel better today, but instead I feel physically exhausted, and have a headache behind my dry eyes. I’ve been trying to drink water and eat non-inflammatory foods all day.
To Audra…you are pregnant! Enough said.
To Gomer…’you are approaching middle age.’ Well, if that isn’t enough to make one think about tossing the rope over the ceiling hook.
To Donna….this too shall pass.
Awww Rosalie come on now. It’s not like I told her to bite down on the Cyanide pill or faxed Kevorkian’s diagram for a drug pump. I merely offered simple (but far too prolific) consul as one who has recently seen the bottom.
Donna- Start a new post so we can get back to our happy thoughts!
There has to be some news of the discovery of an Sirius/XM channel devoted soley to some one-armed Peruvian folksinger we can talk about.
Kidding of course. Love your music quirkiness. (Where are those damn emoticons anyway).
Your wish is my command….