Writing about writing

Hi.

‘Sup.

Haven’t really written in a while. I mean really written.

I know.

Been really, really busy.

I know.

Do you think it would have kept my mental health and stability and outlook more up than down?

I don’t know. And it doesn’t matter.

You’re right.

I know I’m right.

I changed so many things in my life, about my life, lately that I haven’t had time to write.

That’s bullshit.

I know.

I know you know.

I’ll just start about 6 weeks ago. I started with some vitamin supplements than have really, really changed my level of anxiety.

I didn’t know you suffered from anxiety. I knew about the depression, but the anxiety is a new one.

It was to me. Really all I knew was that my mom gets anxiety when she flies and she takes Xanax for it. I certainly didn’t think what I was going through was anxiety. But the meltdowns I had at work, the intense fits of weeping I suffered, just my overall outlook was blanketed in anxiety.

Go on.

I was able to gauge it when I had that meltdown at work. The one where I was crying uncontrollably in the supply close at work. Looking back I was able to assess that my anxiety level pretty much stood pat at a 2 or 3 all the time. If I received criticism for something I did, it shot to a 5. Another criticism or stressor and it cranked to 7. And on like that until it gets to 10 and the wheels fall off the wagon.

This post isn’t about that.

Right. Sorry. So I changed my diet and started some nutritional adjustments and low and behold, it’s like the locomotive of anxiety came to screeching halt.

Really?

Yeah. I even started falling asleep better and through the course of the day, I don’t have the feeling like there’s a Slinky right below is sternum that is winding tighter and tighter throughout the day. Used to be that Slinky would coil up tighter and tighter until finally it just got so tight that I would either have to sleep or run or hole up in my apartment and watch Netflix because the Slinky was wind so tight that it just kind of exploded like a, a …

I’ll help you.

Thank you.

It was like the coil inside the box inside a Jack-in-the-Box.

Exactly.

And quite a lot lately, Jack has sprung out of the box and bounced all around with his multi-striped, ruffled shirt and that maniacal grin on his face.

Exactly. In fact, the Jack looked a lot like Him.

[Shudders] Yeesh. He always seems to find a way in, doesn’t He?

He certainly does. Two weeks after I started to make these changes, the reality of giving Zimmer to my ex-girlfriend became so nakedly clear it was like a lightning bolt. So I did what I had to do.

You gave Zimmer back?

Yeah. And I feel okay about it. Want to know why?

Of course.

Because not having to tend to his needs all day because he lives with a woman whom he adores and who adores him and lives in a nice house instead of this cramped one bedroom apartment and she can afford food for him and vet trips for him …

Vet trips?

Look, I don’t want to get into it. She wanted a puppy so the cats would be nice to him and she wanted a pure bred so we got a Golden Retriever and all that was fine and dandy with me because I still lived in her house and I thought she loved me the same way I loved her and all that so it all made sense. For me at least, it doesn’t make sense anymore. Does that make sense?

Makes sense.

I miss being able to write about my life. Whether for the blog or just journaling or whatever.

You have to write. You don’t have a choice.

Well, see, that’s the thing. I do have a choice.

True. You do. And you know what happens when you don’t write.

It’s like the movie of my life goes on –

And nobody has anybody idea.

Thanks Tyler Durden. But no. I have an idea. I have all kinds of ideas. About my life, about my blog about the long lost memoir I started …

Yeah, whatever happened with that?

It’s on the list. Point is if I don’t write, it’s like I lose part of myself. I lose the person I was in that moment.

Yeah, but some of those moments are imminently forgettable.

True, but a lot aren’t. Giving away Z for example. It hurt. It hurt a lot, but I didn’t think about drinking over it. I’ve had a few moments since I gave him to Kim but ultimately, it’s good for all three of us.

And you get to start professionally pet-sitting again. For money.

Right.

Something you maybe could have tried doing for more than a lark before Kim.

Dude, let’s not even get into what could or could not have happened or should or shouldn’t the occasional “maybe if” shit, okay? Kim happened; Zimmer happened. Kinda like a life journey cul-de-sac. Let’s just turn around go back out to the main road. Deal?

Deal.

So what are we gonna write about now?

Same as before. I liked that series I had going about the Bible and some readers even like the poetry which is bizarre because I never thought of myself as a poet.

Writers don’t think f themselves as writers, even after they’ve written books. Some people are “writers.” And some people are writers.

So what am I?

You’re both. Sometimes you writer because you’re a “writer,” and sometimes you just write because … well …

Because writing.

Right.