Let’s get personal.
I’m a good man – not perfect, not by a long shot, but a good man. I pay taxes, I’m a gentle, thorough lover, and I don’t complain about most things people would. Or could. So that’s good.
But that doesn’t mean I don’t do bad things.
For one, I am very zoned in on what I like, and that’s making stuff, which most of the time means I choose things over friends more often than is comfortable. If you’re one of the many people still waiting for a text back, I’m really sorry…
For two, so help me god, I love a beer. And a cigarette. And a bag of pick’n’mix. A whole host of things that make me, quite frankly, hate myself the next day. Not hate hate, like how much I hate basic bitch, industry regurgitated chart-topping pop music (and the fact that it is chart-topping), but hate enough that there are bad vibes oozing from most of my orifices.
For three, I really wish I could chill out on making assumptions of people and promoting it as ‘perceptive’. I can’t assume that a friend of a friend of an ex-lover that lost their job as a shopping mall Santa because they shat in all the stockings didn’t have their reasons. Like, I fundamentally disagree with that approach to dealing with your problems, but what those problems are – how am I to know? Who am I to judge?
“Why don’t you wish in one hand, and shit in the other. See which one fills up first”.
— Bad Santa, Bad Santa
So why am I telling you 0.3% of why I suck?
Because it’s who I am. It’s what I do. I ain’t happy about it, but I’m working on it, okay – get off my back. You’re not perfect either.
And that’s why we’re here – because we’re not perfect. We’re crying toddlers thrashing against the wave machine of life, disapprovingly looking to our parents and asking “Why did you teach me to swim in a fucking wave machine?!”.
Crying because we don’t like feeling anxious/depressed/frustrated/*insert your hill here*.
Thrashing because we don’t know what to do about it.
We didn’t choose to be put in the wave machine. Hell, neither did our parents. Cut them some slack.
Yes, some generations before us got paddling pools and water wings, but some just got chucked straight into the Normandy coast amidst D-Day. On the spectrum of things, I’d give us rating of hard water, with a touch of limescale. Tastes weird, but at least the kettle still works…
But here we are with our problems. Oh, those nasty problems. Mine you ask? Well, give me an inch and my anxiety will take a fucking mile. That’s a big problem. It’s partly why I like things so much – they’re predictable. Friends? Family? Dates? Big oof, coming in hot – too unpredictable, too many variables.
“He’s A Really Nice Guy And All, But I’m Pretty Sure That He Is A Serial Murderer.”
Cal, 40 Year Old Virgin
So how do you deal with it?
I’m asking you. For a friend…
I’m dealing with mine by noticing things ain’t right, and that ain’t right. By writing down what I think, when I fail, and how I feel. I hope I never commit a crime because my journal would come across very badly on a true-crime documentary.
I’m dealing with mine by attempting to do something about it, getting knocked down and, like the good weeble I am, just getting back up to get knocked down again. It’s fun at times, quite reminiscent of a wave machine.
I’m dealing with mine by holding myself to Uhh Count. Did you get it? It’s very clever. Look at the title of this post, it’s like ‘account’, but it actually says ‘You Count’. Because you do. And it’s clever. Alright, fuck off.
What are your problems?
More importantly, how are your problems? In perspective, just, step away for a second – how are they? It’s okay to say they’re pretty good at the moment. If so, genuinely, nice one broseph, massive high five and chest bump – keep smashing it. Why are they good? Write that shit down – you might need it later.
Because you shouldn’t underestimate a problem’s tenacity to come back swinging when the chips are down. They’re waiting for you to forget about them so they can come crawling back. Don’t forget the times you felt bad when you feel good. Use it as a contrast to cherish feeling good. At least, that’s what misc anxiety has taught me.
But if those pesky problems are bad now – I hope you’re okay. You’re still here, that counts for a lot. I hope they’re something you can fix. And if not, I hope you can find the strength to let them go. What’s that quote again?
“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference.”
Reinhold Niebuhr, Serenity Prayer
I’m not a doctor, and even if I was, I don’t know the symptoms you’re handling at the moment. So you’ll have to be your own doctor. And I think you make a fine doctor. At the very least, a hot doctor. 😉
What can you prescribe yourself? How can you make things better? What does better look like – for you?
Is a strong dose of physicality in order? The classic advice that usually falls on deaf ears – exercise? Diet? Less late nights browsing memes?
Do you need 50cc’s of mental fortitude? Meditation, mindfulness, stoic books? (Suggestions in the reading list at the bottom of this very blog).
Or do you need a defibrillator shock of having someone who has come to and from the brink of rock bottom, someone that understands the sweet siren call of suicide, and someone who knows that no one truly understands you to say – it really does get so much better?
As long as you keep trying.
Against your will if you have to – just keep trying, homie.
Because you count. You keep the score. You know when you win, and when you lose. For me, I win when I look after myself. When I exercise, eat healthy hipster things like avocado, and negotiate and collaborate with my issues to find a solution.
I lose when I realise I’ve gone so far down the hole, I forgot I’m even playing a game. A game that I’m playing to win. That I actually can win.
So count your blessings, make every day count, and hold yourself U-Countable, because at the end of the day – no one’s counting the score but you.
God is great and you are god – of your own world at least. And so on the 8th day, you created peace, and it was sublime. And I was proud of you.
And I am proud of you. And you should be too.
(I’m not religious btw, just feeling the reverend in me)
Stuff That Helped Me
I want to preface this with the fact that I really really am not a doctor. The first and foremost thing I would suggest is that it really is getting too much, seek professional help. Really, I wouldn’t be as personally woke as I am if it wasn’t for seeing a counsellor for 2 years – and that’s something I’m proud of.
But on a lighter note, want to see some of the goodie gold nuggets I’ve found over the years? See what takes your fancy below:
Anxiety
- Stoicism – It’s like Cognitive Behavioural Therapy but from ancient Greece!
- Good design — is innovative.
- A good design — is as little design as possible.
- Good design — aesthetic.
Exercise
I don’t exercise for fitness, I do it for mental health, therefore I am so not qualified to tell you, who is probably more fitter than I’ll ever be, how to get ripped. However, I do suggest running as a really sweet and low effort way to get your mind clear.
I’ve also recently got into Ring Fit Adventure on the Nintendo Switch, and it is the real deal for people of no-to-moderate fitness levels. Ask me to do 20 Squats, and I’ll laugh you out the door. But ask me to drop 20 squats to do chip damage to a horde of gym themed monsters – now we’re talking!
Seriously, check it out.