It’s occurred to me once or twice (an hour) that being on the outside of me and dealing with me has to be fucking exhausting. My imagination is a wild, untamed wildebeest who hates sleep, thinks nothing (and I do mean nothing) is off limits, is easily bored, and has a direct connection to my mouth.
This has been grossly inconvenient and unsettling for a lot of people over the years. I feel for them, I do, but at the same time, I guarantee the wildebeest has kept me awake more nights than it has you.
The wildebeest has a pair of fast friends… I call them my anxiety monsters. The He-Monster on my left shoulder (cause that’s the ear that hears a little better) is babyshit/puke green and super fuzzy, so everything gets caught on him. Something dumb I said in 7th grade? It’s still there, snagged in his shoulder fur. The thing I wish I hadn’t done a week ago? He knows just where it is. He-Monster likes to remind me how utterly self absorbed I am and that everyone is just sick and tired of having to deal with me and my stupid precious feelings. He tells me everyone hates me and is just waiting for me to shut up so they can get on with their day. I’m pretty sure he smokes, with that deep gravelly ‘you’re an idiot’ House voice he’s got going on.
He’s a dick, and probably only right like 30% of the time tops, I know.
On the right shoulder, speaking in a nice, soft voice that feels like common sense and regret in a noxious mix is my She-Monster. She-Monster is putrid hot pink with floofy ponytails nowhere near even, like any actual ponytail I attempt would look. She likes to tell me about how wrong every decision I’ve made is, and how someday soon I’m going to be so so sooooooooorrrrrrrrry for what I’ve done and all the opportunities I’ve passed by to make all the things okay again if I would just get the fuck in line right the fuck now. I’m a disappointment in oh so many ways which the She-Monster is glad to point out to me.
Of the two, I probably hate the She-Monster more because the hate she spews can so easily be mistaken for wisdom.
I hate my anxiety monsters. They don’t stay in their closets. They don’t shut up. They hold wild parties with the wildebeest and keep me up at night.
But you know what I can’t do? I can’t treat He and She Monsters like they aren’t there. Because that’s when they really go to town and work me over where I can’t see them. As exhausting as it is to give them bodies to go with their voices, there’s wisdom in it- that which has a name is within your ken to control.
Honestly, with all the other gifts the wildebeest has given me over the years- six novels, endless entertainment, creative ideas to make and go and do and help, dreams that I can actually make come true sometimes… I think I can forgive it a couple of anxiety monsters.
So I guess all of that to say that if you catch me on a not great day, sometimes the monsters can be seen by people that aren’t me.
Just don’t feed them, please? And tomorrow I’ll try harder to keep them where they belong.
Curiouser and Curiouser 