A year and a half later…

So yeah, it’s been a while. Like, even longer than usual. I’d list all the things that have happened, but that would take an entire post on its own. Point is, I realized I have to come back to doing this or I’m going to go insane from all of the voices buzzing around in my head (which, given that I just referred to them as ‘voices in my head’, is ironic).

Right now, I can’t sleep for all the catastrophizing thoughts flying around in there. As a context-setter, I have two papers already late and accumulating late marks, and a third that’s due Tuesday I haven’t started yet. I also haven’t been to the gym in over a week. Also, due to the stress of all this i haven’t exactly been keeping my diet where I want it to be either. As a result, my brain feels like a sandstorm of thoughts like:

“Even if you get that Greek/Roman Philosophy paper done, it’s still going to get docked enough marks that you can’t save your mark. And even if it doesn’t, you STILL have the Indian Philosophy paper to do. WHY did you wait so long? You’ve fucked yourself and it’s hopeless.”

“Look at your body, you’re flabby and weak. When was the last time you even did deadlifts? Can you imagine how much your BMI/body fat percentage has gone up by now, and how much your lifts have dropped? No, of course not. Because you haven’t check them in months because you’re afraid of what you’ll see.”

“Oh, but of course, buy that Haagen Daz you weak-willed fuck, because it’s the only thing you CAN actually get yourself to do, you’re too paralyzed with anxiety to work on anything.”

“All your friends who would understand are gone, and anyone you talk to won’t get it because they don’t really know you. You’re all alone.”

And so on.

I keep trying to slow my thoughts down and itemize what I want to do tomorrow to start sorting through the mire, but there just seem to be so many different worries and fears I have to serve as cracks in my armor that every time I do, I get derailed by one of these thoughts. It’s like trying to do calculus while sitting in the middle of a hurricane while debris is flying everywhere.

I’m most afraid that I’ve messed up so bad that I’ll have to stay another year without graduating, and hear another semester of “What year are you in? This has got to be your last, right?” and remember how much longer I’ve been here than I should have.

I’m trying to list out the things I’m proud of, and listen to those voices instead, but part of me is just afraid that if I do I’ll let myself off the hook and just make my life worse. Also, when I do try to do that, that’s the perfect trigger for any of the gremlins who pop in to say, “Hey, just here to remind you not to forget: you’re a lazy, fat, useless, ambitiousless piece of shit who will never live up to his potential. ‘Kay bye!”

I’m hoping that by doing this, it can serve as a bit of a release valve to let off some of the psychic pressure building up in my head so that the crowd in there can at least simmer down enough for me to get a word in edge-wise. Here goes nothing. Again.

Vince Smith is a writer, podcast host, and dyed-in-the-wool geek of all trades. You can check out other articles and videos by him over at The Rogues’ Gallery, or drop by his Facebook Page, Vincent Smith: Writer, Scholar, Gentleman for other musings from the catacombs of the Internet.

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