Will This Be Cathartic?

Warning, this may end up being too obscenely personal for me to post on here, but it's late at night and I'm exhausted so why not. I'm so seemingly normal. I'd be so much more normal if it wasn't for my overwhelming anxiety. My anxiety to never ever be bad, or wrong. First off, this chunk of anxiety is completely inspired from one simple situation: my boss innocuously saying that we needed to speak before I left from work today. That was it, no note of a good or a bad implication. My mind spiraled. Am I going to get fired? Do I void items too much (something I didn't know got the store in trouble until today, and I thought was a simple computer issue), have I gotten guest complaints, did I do something wrong? Of course I did something wrong, because whenever something goes wrong, it is completely and utterly my fault, and I can't shrug it off. I really can't. I take way too much responsibility for my actions. This is something I don't think my parents ever understood because at school and work and everywhere else I give so much, and have so much wrong to correct that when I'm at home I just can't visualize all the errors I make there too. Not socializing enough, not volunteering to help out, and not picking up on their subtle emotional changes. This is a totally valid thing for them to feel cheated on, since I'm giving a hundred percent as much as I can to everyone else. The minute I think I've done something wrong my mind rockets to negative thought after negative thought in an endless racket of hypothetical scenarios of doom. So where am I safe from my own mind? My sleep? Thus why very often at these times I can't sleep. I really can't do anything properly until I calm myself or distract myself. It can go on for a very long time until I confront the situation completely. Also, this is why I stay up late at night doing everything I can until I physically exhaust myself at these times. It is a completely awful habit to have.

Let's move on to my second anxiety, nausea. The minute I look pale, feel feverish, or even have a stomach grumble I'm done. Until I can distract my mind from causing myself to feel overly more nauseous, I am just a miserable human being. I have weird rituals of vacant tv viewing and internet browsing at this time attempting to void my mind of the retching feeling that I know I am creating, but I can't stop. Thusly, what I'm doing now at 1 am when I'm exhausted and have to work at 8 tomorrow. I'm cracking. Hopefully this will be cathartic enough that I can sleep. I also feel utterly terrible that I'm in this condition considering my mother is alone in bed tonight with the absence of my father and wanted me to sleep with her. Of course I can't due to my obsessive rituals that aren't even working right now. Although the Courtney Love story on VH1 is very interesting. Hopefully I can run on adreniline tomorrow at work. Now why has this anxious scenario sprung tonight? Because I became pale suddenly accompanying my already sore throat and my stomach made a few weird noises. Sound stupid? I know it is rationally, but I'm a wreck.


Anxiety disorder and obsessive compulsive order can go to friggin' hell.

Will This Be Cathartic?

In Which You Risk Life, Limb, and the Overall Happiness of All in the Room

Given by the name, Risk is a game of uncertainty and you know you're liable for disaster. What you didn't expect from the game's namesake is the risk of hating everyone around you by the end of the game. From personal experiences I have gleaned but one simple truth about Risk: by the end (if you even get to the end of the game) there will be blood. Never in my experience has a game ended in anything other than a major bought of shouting, and some severely bruised egos. Alliance's will be formed and then completely shattered leaving boyfriends and girlfriends pissed at one another, and best friends as ballistic enemies. Winners will be handed their asses to them by a person who buys a devastating card. Players will bitch when it's not their turn and become severely ADD. Oftentimes assorted detritus is thrown at the board in frustration or apathy, causing pieces to fly off the board.

Namaste mother f'ers!

Another probable cause with Risk frustration is the massive amount of rules to remember. Often times you should get cards or extra people in certain circumstances that are really easy to pass over. However, there's always that one guy that remembers all of the rules conveniently on his own turn. It's really easy to manipulate the game with newb players by not fully explaining the special rules.

Speaking from experience the most frustrating part of Risk is when you just can not roll above a two. This fact let's you get three pieces annihilated by one defender. It's probably the worst feeling of defeat in any game, ever.

The big however, HOWEVER, is that Risk is the most incredibly addicting party game known to man. There's something about the board game that just keeps you coming. Maybe the pieces are secretly coated in crack, or military strategy games are really that addicting (take Chess for example). I think the brute force of the game is what keeps you needing to try again. When you see the map monopolized by your pieces, there's a rush of ecstasy. This also explains why you feel as if you've had a swift kick to the balls when your entire territory is taken by the underdog. So no matter how consistently nasty and rude we are to one another by the end of the game, we simply can't stop having Risk nights. Perhaps we're just board game fetishists or perhaps there's something deeper here. Either we're eerily screwed up or the makers of Risk just really have it all figured out. Maybe they understand our deep psychological need to be repeatedly slapped in the face, as long as there's the promise of glorious victory.

So in conclusion, Risk is a game of theoretical and very actual warfare. My advice to you is to...

In Which You Risk Life, Limb, and the Overall Happiness of All in the Room

Hiatus

The end of the school year and graduation are a bummer, so I haven't written as of late. On top of that is my natural born gift of procrastination, and my knack for not giving myself and personal time to write. Here is my steadfast promise that sometime this week I will write many informative blog posts. I'm starting a new project to teach myself to knit, so that might glean some hilarious pictures of caddywhompus socks that look more like mutant yarn. Also, after spending about two hours watching the History Channel this morning I'd really like to do a bit on Houdini. Houdini is possibly the biggest bad ass in history.


hello ladies

However, at the moment there is just too much cleaning to do. My car looks like the pits of hell, so I'll update later tonight or tomorrow. Just reminding you all I exist!!

Hiatus