Well, it’s not much of one, but the site is called “how to be ok at stuff”, not “how to conquer the world with ineffective perfectionism”. So here I am. What looks, at the moment, like a college dropout, living with my mom, coming off my meds. My anti-depressants, that is. When I told my doctor about the weird dreams I’ve been having, she wrote it off as a symptom of withdrawal. She said she’s seen the post-Paxil dreams get so bad people have to crawl back into bed with their parents. Well, being in the same bed with both of my parents would, frankly, be weird as all get-out for me. They’ve been divorced since I was a wee one. So I share a room with my 17 year old brother, which is surely cramping his style, but seemingly unavoidable, given space constraints and so on. Nightmares about having to go back to high school. Nightmares about having to pack all my belongings into a single suitcase and hightail it out of town before whatever it is that chases me arrives. Nightmares about sleepovers where I wet the bed. Unsettling but proud dreams where Bruce Campbell wants my bod. So here it is. How to be ok at stuff. How not to burst into flames when your brain tells you to. How not to die of anxiety. How to break a perfectly legal prescription medication addiction- passively. How to be.
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