Kat Atwell is a freelance writer, blogger & stage presence telling stories that deliver laughs, validation & community.

Mental Health | Wellness & Self Image | Experiential & Reviews

Sad.

I'm overwhelmed tonight. The tears spilled over and now my nose is all red and I just feel ... hopeless. This is one of those sad times where I don't particularly want to reach out to anyone, and that in itself makes me more upset.

I want my mom.

For whatever reason, I'm feeling especially lonely right now. I feel like I'm moving all the freaking time, and it's like one of those fish tornadoes where you don't get to stop swimming because you have to keep the spiral going for reasons unknown to anyone. Fish tornado is the proper phrase, yes?

There you go. I'm one of those guys. Swimming like mad to make up this structure for no clear purpose other than "because someone said so."

Who is the person who said so to me? When did I wind up being the one who had to work more, try harder, make do with less, etc.? I'm TIRED.

PS - I know I'm the one who said so. I know the answer to that. That just infuriates me further. I'm in one of those dark moods where all I want to do is belittle myself for being a control freak.

You know what I want tonight? A rescue. Little voice in me is telling me now is when I'm supposed to apologize for being needy and self-pitying, but we can tell that voice to suck it.

I do, I want to be rescued. I want to be picked up in someone's arms, told everything is going to be OK, and feel comforted. There's a reason I read as many historical romance novels as I do, and for the most part, it's not for the sex. It's for the chivalry and the fairy tale element to it that assures the reader of a happily ever after.

I am being such an asshole to myself in my head right now and I can't seem to let it go. If work wasn't so insane right now, I'd totally take tomorrow off as a mental health day and just go hide somewhere with a book and some tea. All day. With the hiding.

Rotten. It's all rotten. I want to call friends and tell them to help me, but to what end? There's no epic problem to be solved or anything. I was listening to an audiobook today that reminded me that problems are things we create from thin air, anyway, which is true. Try taking a mood like this one and listening to a book about stripping away all our thoughts and preconceptions and judgments and figuring out how to describe our own souls. Talk about a fruitless effort. I get it, but I don't get it.

I kind of wish I could go back to the philosophy class I dropped out of twenty years ago and give it another shot. All I really remember about it is that our professor looked a lot like Jesus. Oh, and that he mentioned the possibility that we could all be manifestations of a bigger being's dream right now, and at any moment, that being could awaken and nullify our existence.

And that's why I didn't make it through a philosophy class.

Ouch.

Shellfish.