You Should Read This

Hello all

I hope your travels have gone well. Maybe not according to plan, maybe even quite kerfuffleful, but in all the chaos and frustration I hope you found and adopted something golden, even if only spiritually. That is the highest prayer I can pray for you right now.

I would like to speak for other people, because I do not believe I am the only one with the following problem and because I still get a small, reflexive knot in my gut when I type the word "I" too many times--possibly Catholic Guilt, possibly internalized sexism, absolutely unhealthy--but I can't speak for others, so I'm just going to let this post get a tad narcissistic for a minute... or hour.

All day, week, month, year long, I am assaulted by "should's." I should wake up earlier. I should stay up later. I should eat less. I should eat more. I should finish reading that novel. I should finish writing that novel. I should apply to more places. I should waitress. I should freelance. I should market. I should get a hotel room. I should stop wasting money. I should learn more Spanish/Japanese/Korean/German. I should get better at English. I should spend more time with my grandmother. I should rescue as many people as I can from their negative emotions even though I can't even handle my own. I should get help. I should stop writing this and let my mother know where I am. I should

on

and on

aaannnnd on.

Taken one at a time, most of these shoulds could be quite healthy. Unfortunately, they never come one at a time. I wake up, schlup over into the kitchen, open the fridge, survey my breakfast options, and as soon as I let in the tiniest little "maybe I should eat eggs," BAM! I'm overrun. It's like that scene in a teenage sitcom, where, after the parents have left town for the weekend, forbidding any parties, and the kids decide to invite just a couple friends over, but come the night of the get together,the whole fucking school breaks down their door and proceeds to destroy the house. I got shoulds drinking my liver to death. I got shoulds jumping up and down on my kidneys until they burst. I got shoulds playing my spine like a xylophone. I got shoulds beating the back of my skull like a kickdrum. 

In short, I get attacked; I get dizzy. I never know which should to pick, so I end up attempting all of them, and failing. In the case of breakfast, my kitchen ends up a sopping, eggy mess and whatever I tried to cook burns, spoils, or lays forgotten until I stumble across it hours later. (Luckily, this morning, it was only a baked potato. FOREVER YUMMY!!!) 

I've been told this Traumatic Should Syndrome is a symptom of my A.D.H.D., a side effect of cradle Catholicism, and/or just plain thinking too hard. There are plenty of people to blame, but I happen to love every single one of them. Besides, my own shoulds are enough trouble. I don't need to mess with other people's.

I said earlier that I don't think this problem is mine alone. I've watched my dad, my mom, my sisters, my brothers, my best friends suffer through it. I'm sure even you have experienced it in various stages and I'm sure you're every bit as sick of it as I am.

Therefore, let's all together close our eyes, take a deep inhale, a deeper exhale, dead-bolt our doors against the shoulds for one minute, and ask ourselves what we need.
A cup of tea. A journal entry. A catnap, perhaps. Whatever it is, for fifteen minutes, let's let that need be the only should we follow.

Peace, friends.

Belinda