#BUT im going home tomorrow :-) for nearly five whole weeks i cannot wait i will perhaps explode with excitement :-)
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taken down all the christmas decorations in my uni room packed all my stuff up cleared the fridge out half my flatmates have gone home already....WHAT do i do with myself now. WAH
#it is so. quiet here oh :-( and ive also got. no food unfortunately#feeling so much like snoopy right now. he would know what im going through#BUT im going home tomorrow :-) for nearly five whole weeks i cannot wait i will perhaps explode with excitement :-)#(ridi's) bigmouth strikes again
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To be honest im very glad she loves her boyfriend so much, initially i asked about her relationship status and she said it was open, and was very firm about that fact, emphasizing it to the point that it was the only thing leading me to believe she was at all receptive to my advances, of course thats not enough because i was so forward, and i knew she just likely wasnt that into me. but today when i pressed the issue, as i am a horny man and frankly im in a damn hurry, she changed her tune, now he was her soul mate. and you know what nothing could have made me happier. my last serious girlfriend was in a committed relationship but it was on the rocks, in part do to her going off her birth control (i was high test compared to her boyfriend, he had better musculature but prenatal test exposure was lower in the womb as evident by me being 6′2 and having masculinized bone structure in comparison to his.) and losing all attraction to him, also i kind of fucked their shit up by randomly confessing my feelings for her, we had known each other for close to ten years at that point, but i never made my feelings known because she was so fucking hot to me i just never thought of her as a possibility quite frankly, i was fucking SHOCKED to find out she felt exactly the same. this same exact scenario played out for me when i was a young man and i literally forced my girlfriend to go on hormonal birth control, the hormones in birth control literally trick your body into thinking that your pregnant, and pregnant women have different taste in men, they are looking for a provider obviously, their behavior changes dramatically, in part because they lose interest in higher testosterone but good physical genetics mates as they need someone to be their when they raise their baby, typically (naturally) this only lasts for 9 months than the baby comes, if the man who fathered the child is able to weather the emotional shit storm, he will stick with you through anything, and is thus a good potential provider for your offspring, the opposite is true if they met you while on hormonal birth control, as they value you for your provider traits and when they go off the bc their body thinks they are no longer pregnant, hence her looking for a big strong bull (me) too impregnate her.
she knew this indian guy since they were children, it was fucking obvious they were meant to be together, i hated being responsible for the heartbreak i caused BOTH of them. dude still wanted to be with her after she kicked him out of her life to fuck some drug addicted retard (me) but heres the thing i am not talking shit about her, they literally cant fucking help it, we are slaves to our hormones. i was very pleased to find out that she was hesitant to go on birth control as it “makes her crazy” i was so glad she brought it up and felt that way, as imagine going over this shit with a potential girlfriend, imagine how well thats going to go over! i have been familiar with hormonal BC’s effects on womens sexual preferences and ability to pair bond since i watched a documentary on the discovery channel about sex with i was 13, i was trying to masturbate, but i learned a lot instead, despite how crazy this sounds, all of this is accepted science and new papers get released about it every couple of years or so, its fucking insane that women arent made aware of this common side effect of birth control, so imagine how fucking conflicted i felt when she was adamant about getting back on birth control, i was 99 percent sure she would fall out of love with me, and at the time , it was insane to me how much she clearly loved me, she promised shed get off birth control as soon as i asked, i pleaded with her, saying that by the time she was on bc for even a couple weeks shed no longer love me or give a fucking shit what i had to say anymore, which seemed RIDICULOUS at the time, but she promised shed go off it as soon as i asked, i knew that would not be the case. within literal days after getting the hormonal IUD put in, she stopped looking at me the same, we started fighting all the time, it was horrible to see, especially for the second time, all men know what i am talking about, when that lok disappears, and of course she didnt get it taken out when i asked, and of course the fighting got worse and worse, who the fuck could stand living with me without loving me, suddenly all the bad shit about me (no job prospects, bad provider) that she had already been aware of for years became an issue, blah blah blah, it wasnt her fault, imagine being forced to live iwth someone who you didnt love, who loved you and stil wanted to fuck you. and of course as the fighting got worse and she slept on the couch, i could no longer sleep, i became obsessively jealous (mate retention strategy caused by testosterone masculinizing the brain) i knew she wasnt cheating on me, there was literally no way, but my guts were twisting and churning every single day, my behavior became increasingly erratic (men behave irrationally as well, in their own way) it all came to a head, after a solid month of the cold shoulder, i had finally landed a job interview to be a car salesmen (i built up a relationship with the neighbor i smoked iwth, and he landed me the job) but the day before i was set to be interviewed we had a massive fight which i started, because i tried to reason with her (in love men and women arent governed by reason) that she had been giving me the silent treatment for a month and i had been on my best behavior, which i had been, buying her gifts and flowers with the profit sharing check i got from my old job, but she started grabbing her stuff to leave, she wouldnt tell me where she was going and in my irrational state i was sure she was going to fuck an entire football team, an unbelievably searingly painful thought for a man, women literally cant comprehend this as they dont experience jealousy in the same way men do. so i slammed out of the house first into the streets of new york city, huffing and puffing trying to to cry as i pushed past the crowded streets, it was like 4 pm in the middle of queens. i found a bar and sat at the center of the bar, it was pretty empty when i walked in since it was like four o clock in the afternoon. i had 300 hundred dollars in my pocket and i spent it all that very night on beers and shots and whiskey sours, i had never gone to a bar of my own volition before and can count on one hand the amount of times id set foot in a bar, but i had been drinking more than i ever had in my life. the pain of jealousy and losing someone that i sincerely loved, and intended to marry was so intense that i started drinking and basically didnt stop until we were separated (havent really touched the stuff since, i dont really like alcohol) but i was losing the girl i loved, she was supposed to be my wife. i drank like there was no fucking tomorrow, just waiting for her to call me, which she did, but there was no love in her voice, no news on where she was, or who she was with (her girlfriends, studying for an exam) so i hung up and went back to drinking, my bartender was a young women, who may have been pretty i was not paying attention, so much so that when she finished her shift and left the bar, and a young woman sat next to me at the bar and tried to talk to me, she grew angry with me that i didnt realize it was the same bartender, who had been serving me drinks all night, she left in a huff, soon i felt people pressing up against my back as i finished my 20th drink of the day, i was way past my limit, but i was about to lose the girl i loved and become homeless on the streets of new york in my mind, she would never have done that to me, but my “home” had evaporated as soon as i left to new york, and after i lost my job delivering refrigerators he made it pretty clear he didnt want me around. he was not my real dad after all, just another of my mothers boyfriends, its not the same as a biological dad, for as good as he was and as much as he did for me, i was becoming too much, i cant describe the fear of the streets for someone who spent their lives homeless or near homeless is like, its always there. so i drank that way as the NYC bar grew very crowded and noisey, i had picked the hottest socail spot in the city to drown my sorrows,. i would drink until i couldnt feel the pain anymore, go home, puke my guts out, not remember anything and then regroup in the morning after she got home from her boyfriends house, thats a problem for tomorrow me. i was just waiting for her to call me and maybe show me some sign of warmth, some sign of the person i fell in love with. she did call me in fact, i was too drunk and the bar was too loud for me to hear it, i got up to take a piss and only then realized how crowded the bar actually was, people were dancing behind me the whole time and i didnt even realize it, it was packed from wall to wall, as i got up to take my piss, my last five fell out of my pocket onto the ground and i nearly fell over trying ot pick it up, plus the last shot i took i just spilled down my shirt sleeve, it was time to go home. i drunkenly stumbled towards the door the bar was so packed i literally had to raise my arms into the air (this detail will be important for later) as i made my way towards the exit suddenly she appeared in the doorway, i cannot describe to you my relief in this moment, how did she even find me? it was the last clear memory i have from that night, the only other memory i have is foggy, me drunkenly bragging that i could have beat up every dude in the bar and girls were totally trying to fuck me (see? im valuable) as she drove me home, the rest of that night is completely lost to me, i found myself suddenly in our bed, in the morning, i felt more hungover than i had ever been in my life by a factor of ten, i was shaking uncontrollably still half drunk and frightened (if youve never blacked completely out before you cant know what thats like) she informed me that i had pushed her, i was horrified, how could this have happened, and what more could i have been capable of, i didnt have time to process that however as her dad was on his way over from upstate new york, in my half drunk and frightened mind i knew he was coming to fight me, i went into fight or flgiht mode *if your dead comes here i wil lfuck him up!” even i couldnt believe i said that , her father was an unbelievably kind and gentle man, but i was frightened, i was gonna be homeless on the streets of new york, a forgotten man who fell through the cracks in the safety net, and worse i deserved it, my sense of self was shattered, how could i have pushed her? she made the right decision in having her father turn around, and head back to upsate new york. i cried like a fucking baby, how could i have done this? my father was a drunk who beat the shit out of my mother, and i remembered it vividly. i sobbed and sobbed, i had been doing a lot of that, i loved her from the beginning and worse, she had loved me too. i had no way of contextualizing it either, for me it was as if someone had woken me up to inform me that in my sleep i had punched a child, think about that, how do you process it? i had prided myself in never putting my hands on a woman unless she asked first (thats its own story that i will never fucking tell) i ddint even remember it, like at all, i ddint even remember us fighting, apparently i was barfing and doing somersaults of the bed and shit, as you do when you are blackout drunk. and she had never drank a drop of alcohol or smoked a single weed in her life, she must have been absolutely terrified. i wanted to die, it was over for good. we had made up in a sense, as the reality of the situation set in, we only ever held each other on the first and last night i was in newyork, and both times, you wont believe this but i have to say it because it was so strange, we cuddled face to face while her two cats cuddled each other inbetween us, only the first and last night.
part of why it was so hard for me, was because i knew i would miss her bitterly for the rest of my life, literally every day until i died, i knew from experience, and she woudl be really upset for a few months maybe and then never think about me again. my only hope was that she got back together with tha tindian boy she grew up with, he fucking cried outside of their apartment, and stil asked about her when she left him for me, this tore me up, as id been on the other end of that, he loved her better than i did, they were meant to be married but hormonal fucker and jewish sabotage has a combined effect of just fucking women right up, men too but i feel worse for the women. if you fuck a guy you should just stay with them honestly, you will be much happier long term. this started out as one thing, and then turned into something different, as i had been meaning to tell that story for years now. i know it seems like a lot of self pity and to be fair theres a lot of remorse too even to this day, i barely touched a drop of alcohol in the years since, and occasionally it will hit me like a ton of bricks out of the blue and i will excuse myself into my room to cry into the macaroni and cheese i was eating.
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[MF] Sunday Scaries
The conversation formatting doesnt hold on reddit copy paste, so its much better read thru link
Linking at Top to not spoil the end - hope thats OK!
https://www.casualblasphemy.com/blog/sundayscaries
------------------------------------------
Jesus Christ and Other Swear words
Volume II: Anxiety Rainbow
A Slower Burn to Fiery Finish. About 10-15 minutes
Chapter 2, 3 or 7, not sure yet.
Chapter III: Sunday Night Scream Into the Void
I lie (awake) to myself
A feeling of impending doom. So many emails. Existential dread and the Sunday Scaries.
I cannot sleep, it is nearly midnight. I have so much to do this week.
I lie awake and try to think of all the embarrassing things other people have done.
I can't think of any, so I go back to remembering my own social failings.
The time I tripped in front of my Crush age 14. My disastrous bangs of just last year. The time I mispronounced Worcheschertshishire in front of my cute coworker. The 23 blocks I walked with toilet paper stuck to my foot and that afternoon tanning in the park with a tampon string dangling from my bikini bottoms. Everyone remembers. I am sure of it. I farted once on a conference call.
Monday is only a few hours away. So many emails and the dishes sit soaking for a third day. I shouldn't have slept in today. I have so much to do tomorrow. I think about every time i've fucked up in my past 30 years.
My anxiety builds and I try again to refocus my attention. I try to remember all the embarrassing things other people have done, but I literally cannot think of any. I sort of remember one of my friends shitting his pants. Was that the day I walked into the sliding glass door. Do you think he remembers? Oh god, was it me that poped my pants? Oh jeez, i said poped, not pooped. Im talking out loud to myself.
Thank god no one is here.
I feel lonely.
----
I eat a CBD chocolate and feel the anxiety of impending doom. So many emails.
I remember. I remember every embarrassing thing I have done in my entire life. I have so much to do this week. So many emails. I have a meeting tomorrow and I don't feel prepared. That time I was left hanging for a high five with my hand in the air. I looked like Hitler with no friends. It is Sunday and life is Scary. So much to do this week. Were they laughing at me? I feel lonely. No one talked to me today. I feel like the Pluto of my friend group.
I decide to crowdsource some self esteem and climb on Tinder.
Left
Left
Right
Match!
Left
Left
Oh damn this guy is hot.
Damn, 5’10
Left
Right
Match!
Left
Left
Right
Match!
Right
Match!
Right
Match!
Every time I swipe right it's a Match. I feel attractive and desirable
Left
Left
ew
Left
Left
Double ew!
Left
Right
Right
Nothing. What!?
I lower my standards
Right
Right
Right
Nothing. Nothing. Nothing
Sunday Feels Scary Again. I have so much to do tomorrow. I don't want to play the game anymore. I fear rejection from strangers. Kinda horny tho. I survey my matches and read messages:
“Hey”
“Wanna Fuck?”
“Nice weather Today”
“Show me your bobs?”
“Nice Feet”
A profile stands out
Blake
6”2’ “Ive never shoed a horse, but I told a Cow to go home once”
I don't really get it, but he's HOT. That fish he caught is HUGE! I climb out of my comfort zone and message first. I've never done this before
“Hey” she wrote with butterflies
….
…….
………..
18 minutes pass. Nothing.
I go back to swiping unenthusiastically
Right
Right
Nothing.
I feel like a Moth in a world of Butterflies. Undesirable.
OH GOD. I research gravity blankets and take a xanax. I think of Cocoons.
I fall asleep lonely horny disappointed anxious and 8% numb. So many emails. Maybe I can do the dishes tomorrow after work, the gym, and picking up my prescriptions. I shouldn't have messaged him. I need groceries. That time I tripped on the bleachers and Becky laughed at me. I run through the grocery list in my head. Eggs, avocados, kombucha, spinach, Shame, paper towels, CBD chocolates. I feel weird.
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I survive another week with espresso and antidepressants. It was hard. I am so tired. I am so tired all the time. Its sunday night and I feel The Doom coming again. I batten the hatches and prepare to wait out the emotional storm under the weight of my new Gravity Blanket. Its heavy and sweaty and I regret buying it. My anxiety rises to new highs and I feel like an idiot. Thank god no one is here. I feel lonely.
Ping!
Blake: :Me
“Hey ;) still up?”
I think about unmatching to teach him a lesson for not replying to me last week, but digital or not, I really need this distracting attention.
“Maybe ;) whatcha doing?”
Trying not to think about Monday LOL
LOLOL Same Same. Sunday Scaries :o
LOL I KNOW! Just gotta get through this week,
I am getting a puppy on Friday!
Puppy! What kind!?
A Frenchi :) her name is Luna
OMG NEED!
You have any pets?
Nooooo :(
You can come play with mine!
Cats or Dogs?
YES PLZ! I grew up with dogs :)
What was the name of your first pet?
Daisy :) she was so sweet
Awww, where did you grow up?
Seattle, just moved for a new job
It's hard being in a new city!
Well I can show you around!
What is your job?
Never been to Seattle, were you born there?
Born in Suburbia, lol
a little town nearby called Auburn
I work for a company that has meetings
I have a friend from Auburn!
LoL what do you meet about?
No way!
We meet about other meetings
Yea, did you got to Westside Elementary?
Eastside
Oh nice, her mom was a teacher there
Did you have Mrs. Ellison for 1st grade English?
I don't remember a Mrs. Ellison?
I had a Mr. Gardner
Oh lol. U like cars?
Sort of
I just got a new one :)
What was the make and model of your first car?
Wow! You are having quite the year!
Lol 1994 black honda civic. The dream
You sound like a Capricorn
Virgo!
Oh nice, when is your birthday?
August 24th, 1990
Just got a pic of my puppy, wanna see?
OMG YES
206-390-0345
I like Capricorns ;)
Oh god that sounded desperate
Texted you
Didn't get it!
Tried again
Nothing :(
Lol new phone too, I think its fucked tho
Whats your email, I wanna show you my bb pup!
Lol look at you Mr. New
[[email protected]](mailto:[email protected])
….
……
……..
Did you send it?
…..
Hello?
Fal Asleep? lol
Ping!
An email arrives to my racing heart. He's so inquisitive! New car and a puppy! I wonder what he does for a living? Such a Gentleman, that was a whole hour of texting and he didn't even ask for nudes. I click the notification but my email won't open.
Please login to continue. I type my password “Daisy123”
Incorrect password/email combination
Please try again
Oh, is it lowercase?
******3
Please Try Again
*****3
Please Try Again
******3
Please Try Again
Ugh im so tired, I can't even type right. I'll leave it for morning
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MondayVegan Jessica III sleeps well in dreams of Blake, Frenchi’s and Avocados under the weight of her anti-anxiety gravity blanket. She wakes with a smile and grabs her phone eagerly.
Please Try Again
Please Try Again
Vegan Jessica III eats her last free-range Avocado on a piece of whole-wheat gluten-free non-cruelty noGMO carboloaf. Num!
Please Try Again
Fucking Annoying!
I switch over to my work email and begin responding to CC threads as I walk to the train. I meet with my team and we plan our next meeting. We have a great plan to plan.
I get home exhausted. I am so tired. We met for three hours and planned for three more days of planning meetings about meeting plans. I log in to tinder and check my messages. Nothing. I take a xanax and go to sleep. The dishes are molding and i'm out of avocados.
Tuesday
I wake stressed and skip breakfast. I head into work and drink espresso. We meet again to discuss our plan to plan. Everything goes as planned and we adjourn. I get out of work 15 minutes early and swing by CVS Pharmacy for LaCroix and drugs.
Some freak in a fedora oggles my breasts through my oversized sweater. What is he even looking at?
“Hi, yes, prescription pickup for Vegan Jessica III. It should have been called in Monday”
“Sure thing, insurance and ID please. Have a seat, it'll be about 15 minutes”
Pharmacists are just drug baristas, change my mind. I wait 45 minutes for the man in the never-dirtied lab coat to grab a prepackaged bottle of prozac from the wall. I hand him my credit card.
“Im sorry Ma’am, your card was declined, do you have another?”
The word ‘Ma’am’ turns three of my pubic hairs grey. It makes me kind of miss that creep in the fedora surveying my body.
Are you sure? Can you try again
Yes ma’am, the card is declined. Do you have another Ma’am?
Ma’am
Can you try calling them? I left my debit at home and don't have any cash.
I glance at my Fitbit. The time is 6:01pm
Its after 6pm Ma’am, you'll have to wait till tomorrow.
I leave the CVS and the pharmacists spends the next 30 minutes placing the bottle of pills back on the shelf.
----
I go home feeling frustrated. I skip the mailbox, dishes, dustbunnies and head straight for my bed. I pull the gravity blanket over my head like a ghost and feel a little better. I eat a half a pound of CBD chocolate and feel much better.
I log into Tinder. Fucking Blake ghosted. Unmatched. Under my blanket I get scared of ghosts and eat another ¼ pound of CBD chocolate.
Wednesday
I wake feeling like shit. I don't know why. I feel stressed. I call in sick to work and take a xanax and go back to bed. I awake to a phonecall from an unknown number. Fucking spamassrobocalls. I scream FUCK YOU to 1s and 0s. There's a panic rising in my throat.
I haven't checked my personal email in days now and try to log back in. I click password recovery and an email is sent to my old college email | [[email protected]](mailto:[email protected]). Ugh I can't believe I used to eat honey and drink milk with my coffee; I feel ashamed of my former self. It feels like a Sunday, but it's only wednesday.
I try to login to my old college email to recover my password for my post-college email.
I try to remember my old password
Please Try again
I try all my old combinations
Please Try again
Please Try again
Please Try again
Please Try again
Lockout timer 29:59..
29:58….
29:57….
Ugh I hate this shit.
Trying to recover a password to recover a password. Did I type it wrong? Was it capitalized? Am I just not remembering it right? Was the ‘I’ a “!” ?? Was there 123 at the end, or maybe beginning?
I need to set my passwords to things I can never forget. Maybe take a lesson from Sunday. Shame and Trauma seem to make for fantastic passwords.
MyFatherAbandonedOurFamilyIn1997!
That's not something im likely to forget
I spend the next 29 minutes finally doing the dishes and feel a little better.
Please Try again
Please Try again
Please Try again
Please Try again
Lockout timer 59:59
FUCK
I hate this shit. I click the password recovery button on my college email and a third is sent to my very first email address. [[email protected]](mailto:[email protected])
I go to AOL.com and try to login
Please Try again
Please Try again
Please Try again
Please Try again
Please Try again
Please Try again
Please Try again
Please Try again
It feels like im opening those Russian Dolls. Every time I open one, another is there. The Russian Nesting Dolls of Digital Frustration. Please Try Again Later.
Recover the password
to recover the password
to recover the password
Please Try Again
I channel my frustration and hit the gym. Pilates class with Pontious. I stop on the way home and Scream into the Void. I feel a little better.
I check the mailbox before the stairs.
I turn the key and an avalanche spills out. Envelope after envelope, it seems unending. They just keep coming. The cascade flow dries to a dribble and I reach inside to scoop the rest of my mail out.
My arms are full of dead trees and I feel sad. Plus its like super heavy after an hour of cross planking. I ascend the stairs and unlock the door with my keys in my mouth. I push the door open with my forehead and dump the heavy mess of envelopes and magazines on the floor.
A Victoria Secret catalogue catches my eye. I make a mental note of my despise for their company message and start perusing the pages. What kind of image are they putting in the heads of young girls. False standards of beauty. Where are the real women! That bra is like super cute tho. I order three in different colors but my card is declined. The bras never come, its ok tho, they wouldn't have fit me anyway.
When my card is declined I think of Blake’s rejection again. Ghosted. What an asshole. Whatever he's probably just another pig who gets off to Victoria Secret models and supports an impossible standard of beauty. I am now convinced Victoria’s real Secret is mainstream distribution of introductory pornography to young boys in suburbia. That's a big mental leap to take from subquality prethought, but I think it's important to note where some of these idolized false standards of beauty start. They start with aging young Mother’s ordering VS products and catalogs to catch renewed interest from their lazily inattentive husbands and trickledown pornoEconomics recycles the catalogs to prepubescent boys. Hidden and stolen, they are a prime middle-school currency. The image of Desire becomes fixed in pubescent development and the path upscycles again.
I throw the catalog away disgusted and pick up my copy of the much more realistic Vogue. I eat more CBD chocolate and forget to call my credit card company. I fall asleep with fragrant advertisements and two miles of photoshop-smoothed Gigi Hadid legs on my face.
Friday
It's a beautiful morning and i'm feeling rested. I don't know what happened to Thursday. We have a brief meeting about next week's meeting and are dismissed early. Summer Fridays are the best! I meet up with my besties and we dress up to impossible standards of beauty.
Thin pink straps patterned with “VS VS VS” loop my shoulders out of my strapless black dress. Clash is in. I think it looks cute even tho the bra doesn't fit well. I lace up my gladiator platform cork wedges and we head out for a night of dancing.
I dance next to my ugliest friend and bask in double attention.
Buy you a Drink?
Wanna Dance?
Ever Ride a Motorcycle?
All eyes on me. I dance and twirl and snort the night away. This cocaine is fantastic. My credit card still doesn't work so I have boys buy me drinks. I black out a bit and wake up in my Uber home. Its light out and the birds won't shut up about the stupid sun. My heart is beating arhythmically and I feel weird. A feeling of impending doom is brewing and it makes me feel weirder - it's not even Sunday.
I sober up a bit, but can't sleep. I decide to finish the vial of cocaine I took from that boy and do some housekeeping.
I take the trash out and open my computer. I feel inspired to clean and conquer.
I will recover my password!
I see a button for ‘alternate recovery options’ on my ancient @aol email and click
A series of questions challenge my identity
“Date of Birth”
August 24th, 1990
“What was the name of your first Pet?”
Daisy
“What was the name of your 1st grade English Teacher?
Mr. Gardner
“What City Were you Born in?”
Auburn
“What was the Make and Model of your First Car?”
1994 Black Honda Civic
And just like that I'm in! I recover my password and recover my password and recover my password.
The russian dolls reassemble and my anxiety plummets
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----
---
Until I open Gmail to a Nightmare
The realization grips me. The Saturday Scaries are Real. I spring to the 4 foot foyer of my apartment where the non-fashion-catalog remainder of my mail avalanche sits piled like rubble.
I rifle through envelopes and cut my finger. It really stings. I suckle a droplet of blood and read the envelopes
Chase | Amex | Credit Karma | MasterCard | Kohls Discover Card | ATT | SPRINT | T-Mobile
Bills. Bills of all kinds. Bills of all shapes and sizes. Bills Not mine, but mine. An acre of rainforest in bills.
My iphone rings and my phone wont open. Panic Panic Panic. Saturday Scaries. I pull my bleeding finger from my mouth and the iphone recognizes my face. I answer the call
“Ma’am i'm calling from TransUnion Credit Reporting, we've seen some unusual activity on your report this week, can you confirm opening the following 227 Credit Cards on Sunday between the hours of 11pm and 4am Monday Morning?”
(This phone call 97% actually happened)
My vision spots and I hit the floor.
___
I awake Sunday. My head is throbbing and my finger hurts. I look at the papercut and it stares back with green eyes. It smells like Almond Butter, but the gross GMO kind. I put CBD oil on it and leave the house.
I head to the hospital, but my credit card is declined. My finger is green to the knuckle and it definitely feels like a Sunday.
I head home and curl up in my bed. With my green arm I pull the gravity blanket over my head and cry. I fall asleep feeling scared and not safe.
I wake to pain. The green has spread throughout my whole body. I feel weak. I need to go to work. So many emails.
I feel The DOOM
I try to lift the gravity blanket, but I am weak and it is too heavy.
The longer I stay, the weaker I become. Days pass and I miss meeting after meeting. I sweat profusely trapped inside a cocoon of anxiety. Unseen emails pile up and add to the weight. My phone is out of battery and I can't reach past the blanket for my charger. I need water. I really need water.
I feel The DOOM
I think of blood poisoning and my plummeting credit scoreThe Chrysalis hardens to reject the outside world
It becomes my Tomb. I feel safe here.
Immune to Anxiety
No emails, no meetings.
The DOOM fades to black and so do I.
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