Don’t Talk to Me Until I’ve Had My Morning Dread-Filled Stare At The Ceiling

Mornings are hard on everyone, especially me. I can be a real crankpot in the AM. So just a fair warning: You should not talk to me until I’ve had my morning dread-filled stare at the ceiling. It’s the only thing that perks me up enough to get me through the day.


There’s just nothing like a nice hot session of staring off into the distance, regretting most of your choices, to get you amped up and feeling invigorated. Without allowing fear and remarkable anxiety to overpower my body for a solid twenty, I wouldn’t be able to cope with simultaneously being awake and being a person.


If I get a lot of rest and drink plenty of fluids, sometimes I’ll be okay. In that case, I can have something light like a few big sighs and a tiny weep with breakfast. But other days, I just have to do so much to even keep my eyes open. And the thing that helps most is to just groan continuously while hoping today will never begin.



Sure, I’ve tried to ditch the habit a few times. Friends sent me articles about how blankly accepting despair first thing in the morning is bad for you, so I tried to quit cold turkey, replacing my ‘daily does’ with a sad glace at the floor. And I have to say, the times I went a few days without fully surrendering to the crushing anxiety, I actually felt like I didn’t need it. But then I’d catch the ceiling out of the corner of my eye and remember how impossible everything is, and there I was, falling back down the rabbit hole.


Something that helps me is to cover my face with my hands and hope that the pressures of life will push down so hard that maybe I’ll slip away for good. Then, when I don’t, I just stay there, and try to remember what it was like to be asleep until the absolute last second before I need to get ready to go. That half hour of panic really fuels my day and makes me feel like I’m ready for anything.



Other benefits of staring mournfully at nothing at all in include:


  • Lowered risk of liver disease
  • Time to tell the universe that you’re disappointed in it
  • Energy boost fuelled by existential rage
  • A single moment of silence for once in your life
  • Full body clenching


So, if you’re the one who chose to talk to me today before I had rolled over to sip on the elusive elixir of impending doom, you’ve taken your safety into your own hands. Back out of the room slowly and silently. Now it’s time for me to stare at my cold cup of coffee.