When Can We Exhale?

Photo by Molly Blackbird on Unsplash

I know I’m not just speaking for myself when I say: I’m tired of waiting for a calm moment.

Let me set the scene.

The sun is coming up shortly. I’m on my third week of a terrible bout of insomnia. I’m on day 10 of having stress-induced full body hives. I’m on the highest dosage of an SSRI, and am still able to panic. I have a few jobs, yet don’t make enough money. I’m a mid-30s millennial that has come to terms with the fact that everyday has been chaos since approximately New Years Day 1999, when everyone started panicking about Y2K and the world exploding.

It’s February. It’s Super Bowl weekend. It’s Valentine’s Day the next day. Are there any plans made? Should there even be? I’m fully vaxxed and boosted so maybe… but also maybe not. It should be cool out considering the time of year, but instead I got a heat warning sent to my phone a few hours ago because it’s going to reach 90º for the next week.

I got a food delivery because of aforementioned hives, and instead of the mashed potatoes I ordered, I literally got a full lemon. Put aside my citrus allergy, in what world are mashed potatoes and lemons interchangeable? So instead I ate Baked Lays dipped in sour cream, some chocolate covered pretzels, and contemplated doing some light yoga.

During that yoga contemplation time, I decided that the middle of the night is when I absolutely need to clean my toilet and sweep the apartment. How ADHD in adulthood manifests as squirting Lysol into a toilet at 3am, I’ll never understand.

I should get my taxes done. Oh, I forgot to follow up on that email from last week. I’m craving an Arby’s beef and cheddar and an enormous chocolate cake like Bruce had to eat in Matilda. That pain in my lower stomach: is it appendicitis? Do I have a hernia? Endometriosis? IBS? I need to send texts to about 20 different people but I’m paralyzed by the amount I’m behind on, so I’ll watch The Righteous Gemstones instead and continue to wonder why more people aren’t watching this absolute gem (no pun intended, kinda) of a show.

Yoga isn’t happening tonight. The flare up of hives is too bad. I need to put up those clothes on Poshmark because I’ll never wear them and I need the money. Why did Kate have to retire from Below Deck? I need to make sure to say happy birthday to a few friends that I missed since my skin was on fire and I was crying for a few days straight. Ugh I hope they aren’t mad that I always am late about actually saying things. I really was thinking of them on their actual birthday.

I’ve worked so hard on building up my experience and credentials in this industry for over a decade and yet I have to fight for every single job. Always having to prove my worth instead of being trusted. Siri, play “The Man” by Taylor Swift.

There’s scams in my DMs. Spam in my mail. I’m in a constant state of feeling like Kate Winslet in both Surrey and Los Angeles in The Holiday, sometimes going from “low point” to “gumption” in a matter of minutes. Instead of having Arthur Abbott as my neighbor though, I have Van Halen’s biggest fan across the hall and what sounds like a rollerblade enthusiast above me. Will this email be the producing job? Does Adam Sandler know he changed my life? Why aren’t my articles getting more clicks? Ok no worries!!

Life seems to be nonstop and fully halted all at the same time. The constant dichotomy of living is exhausting. You’re never doing enough and you’re also doing too much.

Wait. Where was I going with this?

Nevermind.

Now that the sun’s up, I guess I’ll try to sleep.

Photo by Marc Noorman on Unsplash

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