What a crock of shit.
“The system, man.”
You know, I’ve always been one of these people but the world kinda eats at ya doesn’t it?
The years pass by, and all I can think about every night when I can’t sleep and toil away; when no cover is comfortable and the pillow never sits right. I think of every other time I experienced this. Felt that discomfort. How many times could it have been by now? Then you realize, most of them.
That same nagging feeling can be applied to every other emotion.
At this very moment, I feel my secondary security hoodie nagging at my neckline. It reminds me of every other stressed out moment, eyesore, I-don’t-feel-comfortable-in-my-clothes, wow-this-needs-readjustment, “does this color suit me?” moment.
The first one is in the wash. The security hoodie.
I don’t like wrapping myself in blankets and walking around the house.
I think everyone has some type of self-soothing garment.
I’ve invested in many robes recently.
I never lounge in them but a hot essential oil, epsom salt bath with an awaiting terry-cloth turkish bathrobe never hurt anyone.
I even have a pair of long socks now I very much enjoy.
I don’t wear them out of the house, but I do lounge in them.
An emotional security garment for everyone!
My mind starts to wander why I need these things. It feels like a requirement to own them. Cold with a panic attack? Security hoodie. I just got out the shower or mind-numbing bath and I can’t stop looking at my toes until I fall into a daze then drag myself out of the bath. Fuck I got my hair wet in the bubbles. The terry-cloth turkish bathrobe comes to the rescue. Anxiety and night terrors? Please refer to the 25lb prison-of-the-mind-grey weighted blanket. If we were to get into the debate of sweats, joggers, leggings, shorts – this would be too long of a discussion. I am assured we all have an understanding where this is going.
I’m a wreck.
I hate laundry.
I hyperfixate on chores to get through the day.
I need goal requirements of my own tasks and self care in order to achieve balance in my life.
If balance isn’t on paper, then the life isn’t balanced.
I’m too controlling.
I hold my life’s worth and excellency rate in a choke-hold because if I don’t, the slightest teeter – becomes uncomfortable.
That nagging feeling again.
The new age generation of the young adult.
Quitters of an incorporated system, in search of relief to only figure out what their dream has been this whole time.
Make sure to pack a hoodie in case you get cold.
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