Under Pressure

Sometimes I feel like I need to take my brain out, soak it in bleach for a while while the rest of me gets a massage and then put it back in. Then, and ONLY THEN will I feel completely refreshed.

I guess it would help to do that with my To-Do list as well. Oh look. Another To-Do.

I find it really difficult not to be jealous of other people. Or rather, I find it really difficult not to use the success and good fortune of others as a reason to flagellate myself.

I hate that.

It’s the thing about myself that I’ve worked the hardest to eradicate. Sometimes that makes me feel a little schizo. My inner voice starts in “If I had what she has…” and then my inner voice interrupts itself “It’s fine. You’re fine. You’re good. You’re getting there.”

I’m mostly jealous of other women. I wonder what’s up with that. Sometimes Lena Dunham’s very existence is enough to make me lightheaded with envy.

I know I need a mental health day when I start seeing green and talking back to the voice in my head. (It’s just one voice. I’m 99% sure it’s me. That’s normal right?)

Sometimes I just want to rebel against my inner voice(s) and take a nap on the couch.

But then another voice pipes up “Hey Mommy, it’s not nap time” and I remember that I have pretty much everything I need right here.

Feed Me Seymour