Depression Talk

Or rather, things that make your heart stop, your palms sweat, and your head feel like it is going to roll right off your shoulders and into oncoming traffic.

Anxiety, my friends. We’ve all had it. We’ve all stood on stage and felt those feelings that we have no control over. Oh, sure, you can try to deep breathe, you can try to say your Hail Marys.

It won’t help.

The things that make me tick the most:

Smelling odors emitted from other people’s bodies: When this happens, I hold my breath. If I feel like I’m going to come across someone who looks like they might smell, or if someone belches, coughs, sneezes, or exhales loudly in my presence? I have to hold my breath.

Socks: If your socks are gross, have holes in them, or emit an odor? I’m going to have to hold my breath and look away. Things with holes in them remind me of animal carcasses that have been outside in the sun with maggots chewing through it for a long time. (Read: Don’t ever buy me a cheese basket with Swiss or any other holey cheese in it.)

Dishes on top of one another: Leftover food on people’s plates reminds me of vomit. Hence, if you stack one plate on top of another that has what looks like vomit on it, not only do you have to deal with the vomit-y looking things on the original plate? But you have to deal with it on the bottom of another plate as well. I’ve been known to scream, throw myself across a room like a cannon ball through a warzone, and threaten certain death to all those around me when it comes to people stacking plates in my presence.

Other things that make me feel like it isn’t humanly possible for me to get myself out of the fetal position and out from under the covers: The thought of people touching my things; not having access to Q-tips so I can clean my ears before the day starts; the possibility that I may be out of clean socks AND DEAR GOD HOW WOULD I EVER SOLVE THAT PROBLEM; and the thought pf anything piercing my body. I’ve been known to dry heave for hours on end at the mention of a piercing, the taking of my blood, or the injecting of any substance into my veins.

I’m not sure what good any of this does me except to determine with absolute certainty that I will never be an injectable drug user.

What give you that heart-stopping feeling of palm-sweating goodness? Any one thing or group of things in particular?

And even better, how do you avoid situations that make you want to yak all over everything in your presence?