Increasingly, I’m thinking I should be writing more about battling anxiety than battling depression – I’m being told by people that I’m more anxious than I am depressed. Perhaps they’re right. Depression is what happens when I need to take a break from anxiety.
I’ve been worrying that my heart is skipping a beat – WebMD is of no help – go to your doctor -that’s what it says. I’ve had this feeling for at least two years. I think it might be an acid reflux thing. My dad has acid reflux. I’ll tell you – the one thing that will stop the symptoms cold would be me actually going to the doctor. As soon as I spend money on whatever medical issue I think it is, the symptoms go away. Maybe if I just threw money into the toilet, I’d achieve the same effect without having to sit in the waiting room for an hour.
I’m also incredibly tired. Or is it that I am weary? Weary of the world, away she highs – that’s a quote from Venus and Adonis, after Adonis was gored to death by the boar. Venus spent the whole poem trying to seduce him, but he was not having it. He preferred hunting the boar. Meanwhile, I’m standing over here, totally cool with being with Venus and not hunting a boar, and Venus could care less. I have no desire to hunt a boar. It’s the one time where I’m cool with keeping Kosher.
We staged a version of Venus and Adonis in which I played the wild boar, and a theatre critic criticized that casting decision. He didn’t think I looked menacing enough to play a wild boar. And that’s my frustration in life – I want to be thought of as the wild boar, not the boar who lives in a condo in Riverside.
I’m supposed to be better than this. I’m supposed to be a better person. I’m currently reading Ayn Rand’s “The Fountainhead.” The theme of the book, if my understanding is correct, is that if I stick to my guns and be true to myself, I will succeed, so long as I am living in an economy that is strictly laissez faire capitalism. I have a strong feeling that not a single character in this book is allergic to milk.