The Stress Problem

People keep asking me lately—quite innocently—”You feeling a little tired?” or “You sick or something?” The answer is rather obvious, I think.

The fact is, I’m under so much stress that when I talk to certified professionals such as doctors or therapists, their only reaction is a slight tilt of the head and a long “Daaaaaammmmnnn”. Eight years of education and the best thing they can find to say is an excerpt from a Martin Short (Ed.: Martin Lawrence, asshat) movie. Thanks, guys.

I’m really not kidding when I say that I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I don’t know because I don’t know my breaking point, and I don’t know what I’ll do when I reach it. I know—as most of you should know—that self-inflicted injuries are not something I can and would ever do. This is why it’s such an open-ended question. What will become of me?

The problems are numerous, but they all revolve around one thing: money. Money can’t buy you love, but it can make a hell of a lot of problems disappear pretty quickly. It’s all I can think about. How come I don’t have enough, how come I can’t keep it when I get it, and how come I can’t use it the way I want to all of the time. Why can Paris Hilton spend $60,000 on a necklace for her dog, but I can’t afford a vacation I so desperately need? I suppose rich people remind us how happy we would be if only we were lucky enough to be like them.

The solution is simple: I need to unplug. I need to get away from my stresses, even if only temporarily. I need to reset to Zero and start over. I don’t think any stress in my life is insurmountable, but I’ve been excessively stressed out for so long that I’m no longer capable of seeing things as they are.

My doctor was ready to cut me a nice big fat slice of time off, except that would only compound my money problems, not to mention the fact that I can’t afford to go anywhere except my living room. I need to go somewhere on a plane. I need to have no other choices except swimming, sleeping, eating or drinking. But to do that, I need $2,500. Great. On top of all the other money I owe (especially after moving), add another $2,500. Maybe $2,000 if I get the right trip package and spend nothing on souvenirs or extra tours.

$2,500. Might as well be a million.

I probably could get the $2,500. But that’s another $2,500 that I’ve spent without earning it first. Another $2,500 I’ll owe to someone with some kind of interest—whether it be physical or moral. Another $2,500 further down the hole. Shit.

I need someone I don’t know (or have little or no feelings towards) just hand me the money and leave without saying a word. Better yet, just leave it in my mailbox (well…when I’m home, and they ring the bell and run away…). I can’t owe this money to anyone. I can’t feel guilty for taking it. Because I can’t repay it in kindness or interest. I just can’t.

So what do I do? I need this. It’s gone far beyond wanting it. But when you need something this badly, where do you turn for the money to make it happen? Money really does solve any problem. That’s why I hate it.

I think I’m going to set up a donation system. If 1000 anonymous people gave me $5, my immediate problems would vanish faster than you can say “Paypal”. I know that about 8 people come to this site every day. So I could theoretically have the money in….3 months….crap.

I’ll have to think of something. Something has to be done.

Mood: J’aime le stress!