Today, I’m having another one of those “What the hell am I doing?” panic attacks. It’s not like a real panic attack – it’s more that general feeling you have that you need to do something RIGHT NOW or something terrible is going to happen, but you know in your head that isn’t actually true, but it doesn’t make that feeling go away.
I took my little cousin to the park today to play tag as we usually do on Monday, and as I was vigorously going after him, I slipped and bashed my shin into a metal beam (basically monkey bars, but low to the ground so they’re like stairs.) We had to get home early. It looks pretty gross, and there was a lot more blood than there normally should be for a bruised shin.
I came home to disinfect it and put on some bandages on it. My folks were both telling me to go to the hospital, but I like to believe I’m a good judge of what’s worth a trip and what’s not, and I don’t feel like sitting in a hospital for eight hours while I wait for them to basically tell me it’ll probably heal, and possibly giving me an X-ray and discovering I either do or don’t have a hairline or greenstick, or whatever fracture, that’ll heal on its own.
Or to put it into simpler terms. I can heal in the comfort of my own home, or I can do it in the discomfort of a hospital waiting room, holding up people with real problems and exposing myself to god knows what kind of viruses.
My mother thought she could see through to the bone, but I think she’s maybe a little overprotective. This can be a good thing, but man, sometimes it’s just annoying.
And finally I get rid of my cousin and get my fifty bucks for sitting him, (the irony is I actually wasn’t supposed to sit him today), and sit down at my computer only to find I still can’t relax.
Now I’m asking myself “What the hell am I doing? I’m 28, and the best gig I have is babysitting my own cousin. I have NO IDEA what the hell I’m doing with my life, and while even that usually doesn’t bother me, I’m hyper aware that nobody takes a 28-year-old seriously when he has no job, no plans, and lives with him parents.
And I keep thinking Monkey Girl probably barely notices I exist. I seriously doubt she has any interest in dating me. Why would ANYONE want to date me? I can’t even get a 30-year-old mother who ALSO HAS NO JOB AND LIVES WITH HER PARENTS to be interested in me. I feel like I’m being hammered by some kind of weird invisible double standard. Not that THAT should even matter, because right now, I’m not even supposed to care about women. I should be focusing on my book, or at the very least, my blog. I can’t even get myself to do that.
I have a biological explanation for this. It’s not based on science or anything, just the general theory that most of the traits we humans have today were favored at some point in our evolutionary journey. Paranoia – why is parania a prevalent trait among people? This feeling that something bad is lurking around every corner, whether or not it actually is, this feeling kept us safe. Those of us who looked around, occasionally saw an actual danger we would otherwise not have noticed, you know, like a tiger with a baseball bat. The people who figured everything would be fine, were eaten. And now here we are, a race of people who are most afraid of things that are completely invisible, but we swear to god they’re dangerous, and that we have to find them, or appease them, or they’ll kill us.