It’s never what you think it is


She sat up and could see the reflection of herself in the mirror posted atop the dresser directly in front of her bed. She saw how tired she looked. She felt how tired she was. If only she could blame it on alcohol or something. That would be easier, right? People are more prone to emit sympathy when it comes to things like that. When they realize it’s just who you are, the people who you thought cared start dropping out of your life like flies with their wings yanked off.

She grabbed a tissue, dampened the corner with her tongue and tried wiping away the mascara that had run down her puffy cheeks

She figured she should call him to apologize for last night. After all, that’s the tactful thing to do after your hinges fly off, right?

He didn’t answer.
“Of course not”, she thought.

She waited until the ringing stopped and the mechanical sounding woman came on saying “leave a message at the tone. Beeeeep.”

She decided to take a somewhat humorous approach but hesitated for a moment before starting. “Listen, I just want to get one thing straight. I’m not crazy. My brain is crazy. My cerebrospinal fluid is actually not cerebrospinal fluid at all. In fact it’s a concoction of a confusing upbringing and faulty decisions and some weird, traitorous solution that creeps into the crevasses, ultimately poisoning each lobe one by one. Yanno? I actually just refer to it as my brain demon, because it’s all stupid and I hate it.

Like one day you’re driving down the street, going to the store or headed to school or what have you, and you’re thinking to yourself, “Today is a really good day.” And then the brain demon is like “are you sure?” And you say “don’t be silly, of course I am. If it weren’t for you it would be damn near perfect”, and then all of the sudden your thoughts turn from “man, my life is blessed.” To, “maybe you’re right, brain demon. Remember that one time 4 years ago when that really bad thing happened? Yeah that sucked! And remember 6 days ago when that one girl said that one thing to me? They’re so inconsiderate! They probably hate me. I wonder if the rest of my friends hate me. They probably do because I hate me. No, no, I don’t hate me, calm down brain demons. You’re blowing this all out of proportion.”

And again, the brain demon says “are you sure?” And that’s it! That’s enough to send you careening into a full blown panic attack and suddenly your lungs get in on the action of betraying their human and start to constrict and make breathing almost impossible. Anyways. I just wanted to say I’m sorry you had to see all that. Call me when you can, I guess.”

She hung up feeling mostly defeated. Why did she just confess all of that? Why did she need to justify herself to someone who couldn’t possibly understand after the way he reacted last night.

“It’s totally not fair. He probably hates you.”

“Shut up, brain demon.”


Let's chat!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s