I’m 41 and will probably never have kids. I have to give up my dogs that I love dearly. My parents are homeless and I really need a good new eye cream. And I know, as always I will muddle through, but these days just don’t seem to be going as best they should.
Be positive, they say. Sure- I will be positive just after I ram your face in with a large mallet. Not that anyone can do anything - they can’t hand you that little hammock on the beach. That’s what ya need. But ya can’t take time off because ya don’t want to waste your vacation days on a minor nervous breakdown. And it takes a lot to let people know you really need time off. You basically gotta be missing a goddamn leg to allow people to realize you need a break. And I’m pretty sure ya gotta go to work these days with that leg in hand anyway.
Here’s a tip. When you are on the verge of a nervous breakdown, maybe save the quitting smoking bit for a finer day. Because believe me, we only love crazy and disturbed people in movies. Sure, we root for the woman screaming and telling it like it is in that little indie flick. But in real life, you’re two steps away from the snake pit.
But- what can you do right? You gotta keep going. You cry a lot and want to tell most people to go fuck themselves. Hopefully- in time and with strength (and a therapist and Thorazine) you will be better in the end. Because let’s face it guys—- I’m basically 50.
And on that note- I’ll be performing tonight at Three of Cups. 8pm. Free. East 5th and 1st.