Wednesday Night

time thoughts
Alexa Mazzarello

I wish I had something more exciting to describe, but I just got out of the shower and am waiting for my tea to cool down. The tea is orange flavored. It’s loose leaf and I always get grossed out by the feeling of swallowing tea with the little tea leaf particles at the bottom, so I usually only drink about 75% of the cup.

This reads very romantic in text—oh, just little old me, probably reading a leather bound novel with my tea at 8:56pm—but do not be fooled; the reality is I’m trying to suppress my anxiety levels before taking my usual 10mg of Melatonin (side note: is that too much Melatonin? Can you overdose on Melatonin?).

One time I took these weird knock-off sleeping pills right before my flight back to LA and passed out in my seat before the plane took off. Someone woke me up to tell me the flight got canceled and they were kicking us off. I could barely walk around the airport because every time I blinked I felt like I was falling asleep. The cab I got into to go back home crashed into another cab 30 seconds after I got into it and I had to go find another one while half sedated. I think I still have leftover knock-off sleeping pills in a drawer somewhere. I’m taking a flight to SF on Saturday.

Hm.

My mom gave me the mug I’m drinking out of a little over a year ago when I moved into my apartment. The idea that I’ve been here for over a year makes me want to scream. I do this horrible thing to myself where, whenever I see the time and/or date, I instinctively check:

What was I doing an hour ago?

What was I doing 24 hours ago?

What was I doing a month ago?

What was I doing a year ago?

I think it’s me subconsciously trying to measure if I’ve progressed or grown or really done anything significant in the time that’s passed. Or maybe I’m just neurotic about time, as I am with everything else—nonetheless, it’s a NIGHTMARE, compulsive tick of mine that makes me dwell on the past for several moments.

An hour ago: Decided, after eating a gyro too quickly while watching an episode of 30 Rock, to go to the gym downstairs. I thought maybe it would get some of my anxiousness out. I like running only because I can daydream without being interrupted. Whatever cleaning product my building uses for the gym gives me a huge headache and also reminds me of my middle school gym locker room (headache and memory are possibly related).

24 hours ago: Oh shit, I was doing the exact same thing I’m doing now—writing something. I used to think I could write anywhere, but now I’m wildly concerned I can only write when I’m not wearing pants and alone in my apartment. This sounds like the Dream Job for several people I know. I think I would end up eating too much on my own and also might shrivel up and combust if left without supervision.

A month ago: I went to go visit my friend in Mantoloking and spent the rest of the long weekend there. That feels like forever ago. My roommate told me yesterday she sometimes feels like she lives here alone.

A year ago: Coincidentally, the person who gave me the tea I’m currently drinking was staying in New York until mid-August, so I was probably with him. That does not feel like that long ago. I almost texted him this morning because I thought I saw an article in the New York Times about a restaurant we had gone to together last August, but the article was about something else. I didn’t end up texting him. TC mark

Instagram Poet’s “3-Step Book” To Conquer Trauma

Depression is real. Anxiety is real. PTSD is real. ALL mental illnesses are real. Don’t believe anyone who is trying to tell you otherwise.

Every time I’m stressed I distract myself with doing something nice for someone else and it’s the best thing on this planet to watch someone’s eyes light up because they weren’t expecting something nice to happen.

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