Last night I had a very public anxiety attack, for the first time in a long while. While dressed as Blinky, the red pacman ghost. It was not my finest moment.
The face of a deeply unhappy man.
If you’ve ever seen what may be a giant anthropomorphic tomato wailing doom at whateverthefucko’clock on a Friday night youd probably be forgiven for thinking it’s a fairly funny sight. I’d forgive. Shit would be hilarious, wouldn’t it? Except it really, really isn’t when you’re the tomato, and it feels like your own head is going into overdriving, and attempting to puree itself before it drips unceremoniously out your ears and forms sad angry pools around your feet. Meanwhile, breathing is not working, that most basic skill. I stress to the unconfident swimmers who I meet that they just need to get the breathing sorted, down pat; after that everything becomes easier because you no longer have to use half your brain working out how to not drown. Forgetting this basic tenant whilst on dry land is a bit of a failure.
The stress has quietly built up again. Endless amounts of club admin. Existential malaise. London. I had to remove myself from the office at work a couple of times this week because I couldn’t cope. The world existing and being terrifying. I used to hold to the thought that someone could only be happy if they existed in isolation to the world, became purely selfish. I have been too present recently. Combine all that bollocks with alcohol, eh, fuck. It’s not a good mix. Then a housemate who manages to lock you out of the house after you’ve been bundled into an Uber, leaving you stranded in -2 degrees celsius. There have been better nights.
I cannot say thank you enough to the amazing and incredible people that took care of me. The world is full of some beautiful people that I continue to not deserve.
The proposed abolition of alcohol is being brought forward. I don’t think I can trust myself enough at the moment. That’s going to make the remainder of my Christmas parties pretty… interesting. Or non-events. I haven’t decided.
2017, the year of one step forward, two steps back. I’m so done with it. Can we all just hibernate and wake up in January and forget this ever happened?
Listening: Sigur Rós – Dauðalogn; it chills me the fuck out and I will fight anyone who says that Valtari is one of their worse albums
Reading: lots of nice conversations with nice people