Irrational Thoughts

• Lori Palminteri
• Uncategorized
• March 7, 2016

A lot has been bothering me lately, and my mind is even more poisoned than normal, and I can’t write about why, and the things I can write about I won’t because I’m a fraud, like every one else.  The anxiety started weeks ago… like an incoming tide, slowly rising, until I was drowning in my anxiety.

In my mind, there is a bookcase, which contains all my thoughts, neatly organized.  Concrete thoughts, abstract thoughts, dreams, hopes, fears, irrational thought, and rational thought.  Most of the time, the shelves are in order. I’ll browse my shelves as one would browse stacks in a library.  The irrational thoughts are so hilarious to me, sometimes, I’ll pull them out and laugh at them.  “Not talented.”  “Not loved.” “No future.”  Oh, the healthy minded, confident Lori gets such a kick from the irrational thoughts section.

Every so often, all the thoughts fall off the shelf.  And, when I return to the library of thoughts, the shelves are a mess, irrational thoughts and rational thoughts are all mixed up.  Once, easy to separate, now I can’t tell the difference.  I scatter them on the floor, a huge mess, and I frantically run my hands through my hair, wondering how I’m ever going to get this organized again.

Anxiety.  Followed by anxiety.  Followed by panic.

February is a notoriously bad month for me.  Seasonal depression is something I cannot escape.  This year, I thought I was going to.  I thought, a little trip south would surely keep my February meltdown at bay.  I think I’m so fucking clever.  And as the month was coming to a close, I thought I won.  But February was like, “muhahahaha.  You fool!”  And my thoughts came crashing down on me, and every thing got all fucked up.

What is the reason for this madness?  Everything.  And nothing.  And things I can’t talk about.  Or won’t.

Friday, February 26th, I had one of those, “you should probably be on anti-depressants” full blown psychotic break downs, where I just drugged myself to sleep, in hopes that a good night’s sleep would reset my worried mind.  Hysteria can sometimes only be resolved by tranquilizing oneself.  I slept for twelve hours.  Twelve hours.  I cannot tell you the last time I slept for twelve hours.  When I woke, all my thoughts, the rational, the irrational, were scattered, and I was not able to tell the difference between them.

In the morning, I forced myself to go for a run (which I normally look forward to), then I started sorting my thoughts.  Start simple. Family and love: rational.  Time is on my side: rational.  I’m going to be homeless: Rational?  Irrational?  I’ve been obsessed with this one lately.  Where was it before?  How come I can’t remember?  Irrational.  Then, I take a look at my finances, and move it: Rational.  Friendships: Rational.  I have a good friends.  Comedy and my future as a writer:  Irrational? Pass.

You know this.  You know how to handle this.  Something is bothering you?  You’re afraid?  The answer is write there. Write it.  Write it down.  Iron out the thoughts.  Keep writing and finish the book, it doesn’t suck: Rational.

I’ve read people who see faces every where are either creative or schizophrenic.  The third option is both.  I’m creative: Rational.  Right?  Or just crazy?  Irrational.  For fucksake.  I swear, this was so easy once upon a time.  I can’t call anyone and ask them, because I don’t trust them.  Because I don’t trust myself.  My identity is all jumbled up here in the stacks.  Why is it I lose my confidence at the worst of times?  I can’t tell you why.  I won’t tell you how bad.

Sort it.  Don’t forget to breath.  Don’t forget to sleep. People from other dimensions are trying to contact me: Irrational.  See?  That wasn’t so hard.  Wait… was that ever in the rational section?  Don’t think about it too hard.  There are still so many thoughts to sort.  The shadow of depression will eventually consume all light.  Jesus… is that rational or irrational?  Put that one to the side.  Deal with it later.  You’re wasting your time, you should just quit comedy and move to South America while some of your sanity is still intact: What? I mean, it could be either. Fuck.

Sanity is overrated:  Rational.  I write, therefore I am:  Rational.  There’s a rat in my wall, and it walks all over my face when I sleep:  Irrational.  The American economy is going to collapse, and the only skills you have (i.e. writing jokes and screenplays) will be totally useless:  What. The. Actual. Fuck.  Out of my control.  Irrelevant.  Why is that in here.

There is no meaning to life: Rational.  Falling in love is foolish: Rational, of course.  Ew.  Gross.  There is a God: Irrational.  Everything happens for a reason:  Irrational.  I look great in a bikini:  Rational.  Especially right now.  Anxiety gives you the best abs. Hard work equals success: Once, I was sure this was rational… now…. Pass.  Death ends all problems:  Rational.  You’re failing: Err… My heart tells me irrational, my head tells me rational.  Pass.

The water is filled with fluoride which is coating your pineal gland and preventing you from being happy:  Why do these thoughts even exist?  Not sure where this one goes.  Should probably talk to someone who knows more about science than I do. Incapable of maintaining relationships:  Evidence proves this one rational.    The horses are going to figure out we’ve enslaved them and trample our faces: Irrational, probably.

Only you can help you, calling other people is a burden to them, your problems are stupid: Rational.  Seasonal depression happens every year, it will pass, and mother ocean will help you feel peace again: Rational.  Bugs are going to crawl into your ear and eat your brain: Irrational… unless you go to Africa.  ISIS is going to attack New York City:  I guess that’s not so irrational, unfortunately.

Online dating is a stupid waste of time:  Rational.  Henrik Lundqvist and I will hook up:  Irrational.  Getting laid more will be good for your anxiety:  Rational.  If you picked a different occupation, you’d be happier:  Irrational, I hate almost every thing.  Your passiveness is hurting your career, you should be more aggressive: Rational. You don’t even really have a career:  Ugh, rational.  If you go to a therapist and tell them your thoughts, they will put you in an institution:  Rational?

Donald Trump is going to be the next president: Oh shit, I think this one is rational.  The aliens will come back for you: Irrational.  Someday, you won’t have panic attacks anymore: HAHAHAHA, that’s hilarious.  Your parents have ridiculous expectations for you because they think you’re extraordinary and you will disappoint them: Rational.  This is getting easier!  By the time you’re really good at comedy, you will be too old, and the industry will ignore you, because that’s how they treat women: Shit, I spoke too soon.

Every one is either trying to fuck you, or fuck you over:  Errr… pass?  You’re just not cut out for being a stand-up:  Pass.  Your life will overall been very happy, despite the fact that your future will always seem miserable: Rational.

The world is filled with magnificent wonders, and people whom you admire: Rational.  There’s still fight in you, you shouldn’t give up just yet: Rational.  Life is always worth living: Meh, irrational.  The emptiness you feel is because you know that every thing is meaningless, and yet you keep trying to bring meaning to it with your words: Rational.

What’s the point of even organizing the stacks?  They’re all fall again, due to tectonic shifts in my brain, and I’ll be here all over again.  Amongst of pile of messy thoughts, in a poorly lit room.  What am I supposed to do?  Fix it: Rational.