The Funk

I’ve been in what my mom used to call a “funk” for the last week or so. Since I was a kid, I would get in these funks about once a month and I don’t know how to stop it. I try to push through, I try to keep myself distracted but sometimes there’s no escaping it. I’ve been trying to stay away from this kind of post. My eyes roll every time someone posts about depression or anxiety on social media because everyone has some kind of underlying symptom of one of those things. What makes my despondence significant? I have it pretty easy.

I can usually rationalize myself out of feeling down or unmotivated but not this week. This week’s been pretty dark. My diet and lack of physical activity hasn’t been helping. I keep leaving work early to get snacks, go home, smoke a bowl and eat said snacks until I pass out- only to wake up and do the same thing again the next day. It’s pathetic. I think I know why I’m self sabotaging but for some reason I don’t want to confront it yet. Confronting it might end what I have going on right now and what I have going on right now feels good…while it’s going on. I know I’m being vague but I think you get the gist.

The funk always starts in a deep, dark place and then creeps out to touch all whenever I give it fuel. I fuel it with a lack of sleep, sugar and consuming (rather than creating). I just looked down and saw that I made it to 250 words. I created that and now I’m done. Yeah, the funk is real.

Give me your best funk fix.

Daily Blog #5

No, I didn’t forget about ya. I’m here, I’m here. I set an alarm to remind myself to keep plugging away at this stupid, self imposed daily blog assignment on this 4/20 holiday. I support the holiday but I don’t celebrate this holiday publicly. I’m at the point in my life where if you don’t know I smoke weed, I don’t want you to. I don’t really know what that means but if you think about it, it’s pretty freaking deep bro. Maybe not. Today I’ve had a quarter pan of salted caramel brownies, two oatmeal cream pies, a star crunch, an entire pack of Trolli worms and an entire bag of cheddar Chex mix. Don’t judge, I did hot yoga for the first time this morning…I deserve it. Speaking of, I learned today that any time I hear someone non-ironically use the word “Namaste” during the course of a normal conversation it makes be smile uncontrollably, so maybe it does work? I don’t have a favorite pose but I did enjoy hearing people breathe for an hour. It honestly felt amazing but I feel like I have to shit on it a little to keep my edge. Why are all white people Saturday morning recreational activities so expensive though?  Also, why isn’t Yoga used as therapy the same way psychologists and psychiatrists are? Like why can’t my insurance pay for Yoga as a mental health service? Why doesn’t insurance cover all hobbies that preoccupy you and promote growth as a mental health service? Am I only asking questions to fill my word limit because I only have ten minutes left to write this? Maybe. Should you try Yoga? Maybe.