Mental Illness and Ramen Noodles

12/14/23

Today my brain is feeling totally fucked.  I wrote this well over a year ago.  I'm presenting it without editing and frankly I don't remember half of what it says.  But it felt good to write it then and then I chickened out of sharing it.  

I'm so tired of my brain.  I listen to the Nina Simone song "I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel to Be Free" and think about being free from my mental illness.  But then I think to myself "that's a black woman who's not just singing about mental illness but also about racism and sexism whilst I'm a white penised-person born in the US and have never had to face anything more than mild American poverty."  But I'm also neurodivergent and queer and those are rough things to be.  But then I think I'm with a person with a vagina, so I'm not queer enough. 

But I'm going to link the song anyways, publish this, go smoke a joint so that the ideation will go away, and try to learn the song on the piano.  

9/27/22

12:15 PM 

I'm making myself lunch and my anxiety over errant broken bits of ramen noodles overtakes me.  Suddenly, a personal epiphany.  I ask the corporate listening device in my kitchen to take dictation.  It cannot.  I am frustrated by this evil that I allow into my kitchen.  I finish preparing my noodles and head upstairs to journal.  

12:30 PM 

I write the following journal entry: 

Something that I feel is core to me and my mental health is an internal struggle between my voices of anxiety and depression.  Let's act this out in a little play:  

ANXIETY

Everything's fucked!  The whole world's doomed!  It's impossible to get all the ramen out of the bag and into the boiling water without accidentally getting the seasoning packet in there or end up with a broken noodles that has veered extremely off course! 

 DEPRESSION: 

 Chill dude you're about to eat some noodles

DEPRESSION(ADDRESSING THE AUDIENCE):

 Feelings

DEPRESSION

An errant noodle mucking up your stove is no big deal.  You blow everything out of proportion.  Nothing's wrong, everything's alright for all of eternity. 

 ANXIETY: 

 It's a really big deal!  You're gonna hate it when it's three months later and it's burnt and still there.  It's going to make you fume. 

 JUMP TO THREE MONTHS LATER:

DEPRESSION:  

Damnit it does make me fume.  Time to eat some more noodles 

DEPRESSION(ADDRESSING THE AUDIENCE):

 Feelings 

DEPRESSION:

 and fume more

ADHD: 

Hi, I understand there are burnt noodles on the stove.  I'm here to put you at ease, end your fuming.  I'll clean the stove.  And I'll do the dishes.  Oh but I'm also going to take care of myself so I'll take breaks and on those breaks I'm going to enjoy myself until the will to take on a completely different task overtakes me. 

1:15 PM

I return from work to add one final part to this: 

MEANWHILE THE COLLECTIVE GUILT FROM MY PAST MISTAKES, ACCIDENTS, AND EMBARASSMENTS GAINS CONSCIOUSNESS.  

THE COLLECTIVE GUILT FROM MY PAST MISTAKES, ACCIDENTS, AND EMBARASSMENTS (IN A DEAFENING BOOM): 

Don't show too much of yourself to anyone because if they knew all your past mistakes, accidents, and embarrassments they wouldn't like you.  

I read this sentence that I just wrote and I begin to cry.  I call Julianna.  I want to hear her voice.  She tells me she'll be home soon.  I tell her I love her.   I begin writing this piece. 

1:50 PM  

The present.  Ignoring all of the head chatter that happened and was not recorded in that time, the story's all caught up.  Why did I cry?  I cried because I found that sentiment to be so core to the hurt in my heart that I just broke down.  That's like my social anxiety's raison d'etre.  I was actually happy to cry because it's the first time I've cried in months, and I had some deep deep bouts of both anxiety and depression in that time.  It feels like what I'd imagine people feel when they're "having a breakthrough" in therapy.  

That's an odd thought though.  In therapy I desperately want to communicate all of my struggles and provide a total map to my brain state of late in the span of an hour.  I spend much more time the rest of the week reflecting.  What are the odds that the breakthrough will happen in therapy?  A therapist is very much a coach.  They help you figure out what you need to practice.  They also help you towards breakthroughs, but I think inevitably a good conversation with a loved one or some private meditation will get you there.  

But that's probably one of the biggest cognitive distortions that likes to reside in my brain.  Spelling it out in simple terms moved me to tears, but it's also like I've unlocked a new coping skill.  Know thy enemy.  If my enemy is the belief that my collective failures makes me lesser then it is my duty to challenge my assertion.  I need to give voice to my collective successes, but also be self-compassionate.  I need to recognize that my win/loss ratio versus my personal handicap (pardon the sports analogy, I don't even like sports, but it's useful) isn't the value of my being.  But I do all need to acknowledge the successes and be grateful for them.