Tag: life

Don’t Be A Pussy


Lately, I’ve had an “unknown” gnawing on my brain like a pack of raccoons in a KFC dumpster. No answers, no closure, just an endless loop of what ifs and maybe thens driving me batshit. And because I have the self-preservation instincts of a feral cat, I know that any attempt to actually get an answer would be at best dumb and, at worst, an unhinged act of self-sabotage.

So my only option? Get this fucking nonsense out of my head.

If my brain is powerful enough to keep me stuck in a death-spiral of existential doom, surely it’s powerful enough to drag me out of it, right? At least that’s my theory. But I know one thing for sure: chasing answers, seeking reassurance, and mentally running in circles does not work. It’s like trying to put out a fire by throwing gasoline at it while screaming, “Why is this happening to me?”

The best use of my brain is, actually, not to think about the problem at all.

Make no mistake~~obsessive thinking is a universal human affliction. We all get stuck on things we can’t control. If we had answers, we’d stop obsessing~~but life doesn’t always spit those out like a Pez dispenser. Some people have actual neurological conditions like OCD and I’m not here to suggest they can fix it with a good attitude. Their brains are pre-programmed for obsession and they likely need medical help to overcome their painful circular thinking. It’s a whole different thing.

For the rest of us? We need to train our brains like we train our bodies. For example, people tell me they “can’t meditate” because they tried it once and it didn’t work. Jesus Christ, that’s like saying you tried running a marathon once and collapsed after a couple of blocks, so clearly you are genetically incapable of running. Meditation is called a practice for a reason. It’s supposed to be soul-suckingly difficult.

Think about Olympic athletes. They wake up at stupid o’clock every day, give up normal human joys like eating pizza and bingeing crap on Netflix, training like lunatics to win a shiny medal. That level of discipline is why they stand on podiums in front of cheering crowds, and we stand in our kitchens at 2 a.m. eating shredded cheese out of a bag.

So if you’ve allowed your brain to run amok for years, just as if you’ve let your body go to hell~~having done not one single sit-up since the Carter administration~~then you have to actually put in the mental reps. And it’s going to be waaaaaay uncomfortable. And it won’t work the first, fifteenth or eleventy-billionth time. But if you keep going, one day, miraculously….it will.

So how do you do this?

Step One: Get Comfortable With Being Uncomfortable.

Because it’s going to suck big ones. You’re not allowed to do your usual obsessive rituals~~blabbing nonstop about the problem, bugging the shit out of your friends, family, hairdresser, and strangers on the train~~or harassing Chat GPT for psychic-level insight. You need to actually sit there in your discomfort, doing absolutely nothing. And yeah, people WILL start to avoid you if you keep cornering them with your crazy, which only gives you something else to obsess over.

Step Two: Rewire Your Brain.

At first, your old obsessive thought patterns will dominate, like a record with a deep groove the needle keeps falling into. But the more you refuse to engage, the more that groove flattens out and disintegrates. Do not rant to your therapist about it. Do not read self-help articles that confirm what you already know. Do not frantically consult Doctor Google. Stay off Chat GPT. You will be wasting your time and misusing your marvelous brain.

And yes, you will go through withdrawal. You will sweat and panic. You will crave an answer the way a junkie craves a hit. You will be ready to trade your soul for a single scrap of certainty. But. Do. Not. Reach. For. That. Needle. At least give it the old college try.

Step Three: Distract Yourself Like Your Life Depends On It.

Do literally anything else. Alphabetize your spices. Take a walk. Call a friend and DO NOT talk about your problem. Clean your house. Paint your bathroom. Offer to paint someone else’s bathroom. Take up archery. Volunteer somewhere.

Learn how to juggle.

It will feel like jumping off a cliff~~so don’t overthink it. In fact, don’t think about it at all. Just do it.

You will fail multiple times. You will reach for that needle again and again, but the relief you feel will last a shorter and shorter amount of time.

Step Four: Rinse and Repeat Until You Are Free.

Even telling yourself it’s going to be okay won’t work until you’ve put in the mental gym hours. This isn’t about convincing yourself~~it’s about retraining your brain.

I often tell myself, “don’t be a pussy.” It’s not exactly conventional therapist advice, but it works for me. It reminds me that I have reserves of strength I can tap into at any time. Feel free to try it. Or come up with your own motivational insult.

And just to be clear, this isn’t about ignoring real-world issues. If you’re obsessing about actual problems~~like say, Democracy being on fire, or a Russian asset in the White House~~you should hit the problem directly. Call your representatives, donate, march, vote. As Michelle Obama said to the DNC, DO SOMETHING.

But when it comes to pointless, unanswerable, brain-eating obsessions? Starve them. Train your mind like an athlete. Build your mental muscles. Will it completely and utterly blow chunks? Yes. Will it be worth it? Also yes. What’s better than finally shutting the hell up inside your own head?

And hey, you might finally learn how to juggle.

Shame on You!

Recently, I shared a Facebook post by a well-known pastor, John Pavlovitz, commenting on an X post by Donald Trump. The post concerned an Episcopalian bishop, Mariann Budde, who had, during an inaugural prayer service, implored the incoming administration to show mercy toward immigrants and the LGBTQ+ community. Predictably, Trump dismissed the bishop as “nasty” and “not very smart.” The pastor argued that any self-professed Christian who voted for Trump should feel ashamed. I agreed.

Someone commented by saying that shaming others isn’t the way to win hearts and minds. Fair point, but hear me out.

Shame, as defined by Merriam-Webster, is a painful feeling resulting from doing something wrong or improper. It can also refer to a healthy moral compass—the ability to recognize when one’s actions are harmful. Many of us grew up hearing “Shame on you!” from our mothers when we disobeyed or were mean or thoughtless. That kind of correction, though painful, helped shape our sense of right and wrong. However, shame can also be weaponized in toxic ways, leaving scars. Abuse victims, for example, often internalize unjustified shame, and I work hard to help people heal from that.

But appropriate shame—the kind that stems from genuine wrongdoing—is not inherently harmful. It’s what keeps us accountable. A lack of shame entirely is what creates sociopaths and psychopaths: people who know they’re doing wrong but simply don’t care. Narcissists, on the other hand, do feel shame, but they repress it so deeply that it manifests as rage and projection.

Narcissists are not born. They are shaped by their environment. They may have been excessively shamed or placed on a pedestal, receiving praise disconnected from reality. Either way, they grew up without learning empathy or humility. For them, shame is a third rail. They can’t tolerate it for even a moment, so they offload it by shaming others.

This brings me back to Trump. I don’t believe he felt a moment of shame when the bishop pleaded for mercy—because I truly think he’s a sociopath as well as a narcissist. But he is thin-skinned enough that he lashed out, as narcissists do, to make himself feel bigger by diminishing someone else.

As for whether shame motivates better behavior, I believe it can. Feeling shame is crucial to mental health and moral growth. It’s just another emotion, neither good nor bad in itself. What matters is how we process it. If someone shames us unfairly—over our appearance, our art, or something beyond our control—that’s wrong. But if our actions are harmful, feeling shame can inspire us to stop and change. Without shame, we lose an essential part of the human experience and our ability to grow.

I don’t love feeling shame. It’s painful. But when warranted, it forces me to examine myself and, at times, change for the better. That’s why I won’t apologize for agreeing with the pastor’s post, which challenges people to reflect on how they reconcile their faith with supporting someone as cruel and un-Christian as Trump.

That said, I ultimately took the post down. Why? Because I realized I was, yet again, trying to reach people who won’t listen—this time through shame. It won’t work. Facts haven’t worked. Empathy hasn’t worked. Nothing has. So for trying again, knowing better,

Shame on me.