Stressy and Dressy

I thought I’d take up this writing thing again.  Because the conversations I have with myself are really weird,  And sometimes that weird just needs to be shared.  After all, sharing is caring.  Unless it’s used Kleenex or gum or something.  Then it’s not so caring.  It’s just awkward.

Who knows, maybe you’ll think I’m some sort of genius.  Or even more crazy than you think I already am.  Either way, I still have your attention.  I think.

The fact is, I have anxiety and panic attacks.  Yeah, I have some depression tossed in there too.  I’m not afraid to admit it, nor am I ashamed of it.  It’s just part of who I am.  I can just be all bat shit insane and most people just accept that as the norm for me.  Or at least I can say “I don’t know!  It just popped out like BOO!  No filter.”

You obviously do.  You’re still reading this so far.  Either that or you think there’s going to be something insightful further down the line.  There might just be.  I don’t know.  Quite frankly, I’m making this up as I go along.

When I started writing the first paragraph I was super stressy.  If stressy is even a word.  Is it like dressy?  I can get all stressed up with no place to go.  That’s a good idea.  I’m going to get dressed and stressed and just lay here.  That works.  At least I look good while freaking out.  Maybe my antics will turn into the next big fad.

Now I’m all relaxed and calm, right back to my normal self.  Whatever that is.  On a scale of 1-10, we’re all fucked up somehow.  Never say you’re a 1 because you’re just plain old Eyoreish.  Never say you’re a 10 because everyone will want to slap the smile off your face.  It’s ok to drift between the middle numbers.  Being in the middle is cool.  It gives you wiggle room in case you want to dance.

Sorry, I got distracted by my sloth snowglobe.


The sloth philosophy is greate for anxiety.  It’s all like “Slow down man.  Watch me.  Do it like me.  Slower.”  Then your brain is all like “Woah, we gotta go!!”  Sloth is like “Nah man, I was back there.  What the shit is the hurry?  You want results?  You’ll get them.  Sometime.  Don’t rush me.  I’m chilling, you should too.”

Don’t hurry, be happy.


I got to get all undressed now that I’m all unstressed.  I’ve got someplace to go.  It’s forward.



Published by

Boots on a Soapbox

We all have those moments. Let's celebrate and embrace the crazy!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s