If I Seem Frantic, It’s Just Cause I’m Panicking About Everything!

Oh, don’t mind the look of terror in my eyes as they dart about the room. I’m just a little bit totally panicked about what’s going on here. And by that I mean my career, my marriage, my life—you know, pretty much everything. But it’s no big deal. Seriously, I’m fine!!!


Listen to me laugh: HAHAAHHAHAHAHA!!!!! Does a not-okay person laugh? NOPE!

If my violently shaking leg is alarming you, DON’T LET IT. It’s nothing. I’m just experiencing a flood of adrenaline, cortisol, and norepinephrine. A little stress cocktail that’s nothing to worry about because I’m not freaking out, I’m just at the end of my very last rope!


Is this a smile? :-| I’m doing it!


Hey, it happens. What’re you gonna do, right? I sure as hell don’t know because I’m racking my brain going crazy right now trying to figure out my plan for the next year or week or minute of my life and I’m coming up empty-handed and my therapist is on vacation.


Look at these exclamation points: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


I don’t need your help. It’s just that I have so much to do – more than I could ever conceivably do on my own and if I don’t complete these things, well, then I’ll be an utter failure. It’s a Catch 22 or a goddamn Farenheit 451 or something. I don’t know. Are your eyes burning? Mine are. It’s not a big deal, I’m just spiraling down into a pit of despair. I might hurt myself or someone else.



It’s nothing. Just a mix of rage and fear and confusion and violent shame and this gun I found.


Please don’t worry about me. I’ve got this whole “lack of a plan” thing under control. You’re too kind to look at me with that questioning concern. It’s not what you think. I’m just imploding.


On a related note, I can’t breathe?!?!??!?!


Listen to me. Everything is totally great over here. Haven’t you ever seen someone sweat out of their mouth?


Oh, it’s blood? No, YOU are blood.


You really have some kind of Mother Teresa complex, don’t you? I’m not religious. Religion forces me to confront the voices in my head that are all an echoing chorus of my one panicked voice!


I’d like you to step away because I’m just having a bit of thing over here. I’m trying to call myself an ambulance but also call back and try to cancel it but maybe I’ll just start by shooting one of my hands.
Please, relax. Okay? I’m fine. I’m just bleeding, panicking, and going to die.


But yeah, how are you?