The Shit Tsunami: your kick up the arse from your neighbourhood gay

shitcreel

At this time of year, when the days are getting darker and the nights get colder, it can be very easy to let your mind wander into the restricted area that I like to refer to as “the shit tsunami”. This mental tsunami represents a series of thoughts that we, as single people who have been trodden on and shat on more times than a doormat, occasionally visit when we are at our most vulnerable state. We keep them locked away, in the darkest part of our minds, which is where they belong. It is impossible to delete memories, so we do the next best thing: lock it away and put a blanket over the cage. However sometimes, they have a way of seeping through the bars of the cage, like the trail of dog-sick that they are.

When you have spent a good few years devoting everything to one person for so long, to be taken away instantly, suddenly, the bed becomes harder to warm-up alone, shopping becomes more expensive and the most basic of activities require that little bit more effort to motivate yourself to do. It’s a rut that we are thrust into, in which, like myself, you can drag yourself out of, in time. Whilst I was in that “sleeping but not really” phase, the other night, my mind started to wander to the question that we do not like to ask ourselves:

“What could have been?”

The images of me and my ex-boyfriend being together, and have him not cheating on me but instead valuing me for what I was, whilst loving me like he promised that he would, the fling with guy#3 actually not plummeting into the earth’s surface, exploding into a ball of flames, the countless times that I have been “a great friend” when instead, all I wanted to shout was “BUT WHAT THE FUCK ABOUT ME, FOR GOD SAKE!?”, every time that I was just a second too slow to tell someone how I really felt about them, the times that I was never honest enough to say “actually, no. No I don’t want you to do that to me”, were all there, swirling around in my mind, like a hurricane from hell. I gained control of my mind, picked myself up, flicked my hair (in that state of mind, I’m allowed to pretend that I have hair to flick) and strutted out of that hurricane like I was on the catwalk, earning my rent.

It is usually the norm, in most of my blog posts, to offer some sort of method to annihilate these sorts of feelings from your life and offer some sort of constructive advice as to how to overcome the beast that has been created. Today’s post is kind of like that, but I would like to offer some advice which may not sound like it has come from a caring person (I am a caring person, so shush). My thoughts on this:

“Shit happens. You can’t stop it, you can’t control it, so deal with it”

From time to time, we all need a kick up the arse. It might come from a friend, a parent, a colleague or the woman who works in Waterstones, looking at you sobbing in the self-help section. However it happens, we all need one occasionally.

I have spent so much time, in the past, mixing these thoughts of sorrow in my head. Round and round like a salad-spinner on acid, without ever thinking about what I can really do about it instead of just tossing it into the bin, where it belongs. There comes a point where you have to accept that shit really does happen, usually to the best of us, and hardly to the worst of society, but, that doesn’t mean that you should allow yourself to be drowned by this entire tsunami of crap that has been created by the, shall we say, idiots in your life.

There is no way to stop or control a tsunami, in the real world. They come, they cover all surfaces, they destroy and then they go, leaving a mess behind. It’s the same principle in your mind. The memories come back, they make you sad, they go away and you’re left with nothing but tears, a full ashtray and empty ice-cream tubs.

Now that you are there, surrounded by litter and unwashed hair, you need to build yourself up again. It really as simple as that. Get up and start the day as though it was your last. Memories are memories. They do not define the rest of your life. If anything, you can learn from them and not let them happen again.

This message comes to you from someone who really has been through the mill and back, multiple times, and who was drowning in the shit river for years, that is, except from this one. Every day, I get up and dress like I’m going to see my worst enemy. I throw on my spray-on skinny jeans, I spray my aftershave on, I put my headphones in and play my ‘feel good’ songs and I don’t leave the house unless I feel like a million dollars.

Life is way too short, especially around the Christmas period, to feel like crap. I can tell you now that those who put you there are not sat thinking the same thing. To those who are single right now and are torturing themselves on a daily basis, I have something to say to you:

“You are fabulous. You can sink or swim in a situation like this. If you can’t swim, then there’s no time like the present to learn.”

Click here for the next instalment.

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