How Chuck's Chocolate Ovaltine And Your Blogs Saved My Life; An Open Letter

When I was a little  girl, I used to own a Hamster. Eventually, it got cancer and ate a hole right through its stomach even though it was still alive. I remember how confused I was watching him eat himself alive, how upset I was over the apparent stupidity of my beloved pet. I tried to believe my Hamster was a bad ass like Chuck Norris who would die before anything defeated him, but last night, I finally understood why that  Hamster decided to cannibalize himself.

Thanks for Chuck Norris Pic

 I too have a tumour, you see,  it’s called 'Life', and it lies within my belly.  I am stuck gnawing through my tender flesh to dig out the source of the pain, to hopefully find some relief… only to create a mortal wound in the process.

Last night I was trying to write a post to thank you guys for reading and supporting me as today is my one month of blogging anniversary and I probably wouldn’t have continued if it wasn’t for your encouraging words and wonderful blogs.

As you know, E.M.O. has been stalking me pretty hard this last week and it rendered me incapable of being funny or witty which further depressed me until I spiraled into a loathsome sea of self pity and doubt.



This is my open letter to myself (and you) of the events that unfolded last night:

 ~start of open letter~

My soul needs CPR,  I collapse into myself like a dying star. I need some aspiration, I need to find meaning and I need to find it quick. There isn’t  a reason to carry on.

A profound realization of pointlessness.

The extreme futility of life and the nothingness to the somethingness that is everything.
Does anything matter? What's the point?

Oh, there's so much to be, to do...so much to learn and teach and see, yet I want no part of it.

And if I want no part of life, then I am just a lump of flesh sitting around blogging, waiting for the end.

I guess you could say it's a 'glass is half empty' kind of day.

If only there was a pill that could cure ME from ME, some sort of prophylactic that could allow ME to endure ME till it's my time to go.

I feel stuck in the cold flat tundra of reality, without any shelter, naked against the bitter winds that chaff my body and burn my soul.

Gone are the simple days of shopping therapy to distract me from my sadness.

Gone are the simple days of going out to the bar on ladies night, getting two free drinks and head banging till I get whip lash.

Gone are the simple days of losing myself in another.

My muscles absorb the cold hard tile of the bathroom floor.

I lay on my belly, my head turned to stare with unseeing, unblinking eyes, as gigantic tears form pools below my cheek.

I cannot find refuge in the truth tonight.  I cannot be grateful for all that I have.  I cannot feel anything other than dismembered torture at the pointlessness of it all.

My muscles are tense, why hold on?

I surrender and pray for death, this game of life is painful and boring and I don’t want to play anymore.

But it’s not like when I was a kid playing Monopoly.  I can’t just stop playing cause ‘I don’t wanna anymore’. Life doesn’t just end by saying ‘game over’ (believe me, I have tried).

No matter how hard I prayed to be released from this life, it didn't happen.

No matter how ready I was to let go, no one came to take me away.

‘Um, Death?  A little help here please?
I know it's been a while and I didn’t write or call but really, I need you to hook this girl up.  Death....um...are you there? Can you hear me? I surrender! I am all yours!’

To be as still as this tile I try to become, lifeless, cold....I lay and wait.

Nothing, just a beating heart that doesn’t want to quit, even death rejects me tonight.

Abandoned by God, ignored by Death,  Stalked by E.M.O.... what kind of fucking life is this?

Now it's midnight, and all this crying has made my face look like Rocky Balboa's after going 15 rounds with Apollo Creed.

I head into the kitchen to make myself a hot cup of chocolate Ovaltine…it’s either that or a hot cup of freezer slab as I have neglected to go grocery shopping again.

As I am waiting for the kettle to boil it hits me...

‘Don't you realize that you made the choices that have put you in this very spot? Remember how this life is 'your dream life'?

Don't you know that it's your ego and it's constant need for affirmation that is giving you all this trouble? Don't you realize that writing a novel, which may or may not get published, will not bring you the instant gratification that you are addicted to?

Don’t you realize that your procrastinations are only a cruel form of torture you are inflicting upon yourself???

Don't you remember that none of this is real in the grand scheme of things? That you are perpetuating this illusion with your misery and attachments and longing for things that do not matter, for things you cannot change!

If you really don't like the way things are, you aren't trapped!  Get the fuck out of it and reinvent yourself like you did 29 times before ….you invented how to reinvent the wheel so get to it.

You don't need to suck it up and endure this bullshit, you just need to swim through it!

Like Swami says; “on one shore there's the Bliss of Ignorance and on the other shore there's the Bliss of Enlightenment and the part in between is all the shit.”

So Patricia ( I tend to refer to myself in the Third person when I am giving myself a pep talk), now’s the time to get through the shit and pick a fucking shore already! Cause lately all you are doing is swimming in circles of shit, trying to decide which shore you should travel to. Bliss is Bliss, now pick one, and go for it... you don’t want to swim in shit for the rest of your life right?

DO it, fucking swim already! The shore is but 2 feet away just use a little momentum, I know you can! Inertia has taken over and is weighing you down but you can't let it swallow you up!

You want to get wicked good at the guitar? Practice more!

You want to find love? Go out and talk to people! You won't find love hibernating in the jungle.

You want to finish writing your book?  Then start fucking writing! Just one page, right now! What will your protagonist do next? Go!

You want to lose weight, get fit and be healthy? Then exercise every day, eat better stuff than slabs of freezer frost and chocolate Ovaltine they aren’t exactly healthy staples in your diet you know.

You want to feel good? Then start taking pride in yourself and start being loving and helpful to others.  You know this is the only way, so stop procrastinating and do it already!

Just remember, even if it feels like no one else loves you Patricia, I love you......even when it feels like I don't. I must love me because I keep picking myself up off the cold bathroom floor to try again and again! Thank you for continuing to try, there must be hope buried somewhere deep down inside of you! ~end of open letter~

So that’s what I wrote to me and you last night and you know, I didn't die right there on the floor like I wished I would, nope, I crawled from the bathroom to my bed (with a roll of toilet paper in hand)....and then I went online and read some of your blogs and it made me feel a part of something. I don't know how, but it helped a little, just enough to slow the tears down to read what you had to write. Somehow, I got some hope out this hopeless situation by reading all of your thoughts, stories, jokes and secrets.

So I want to thank you, dear reader/blog writer,  for being a big part of my life for the last 30 days. You may not even know how important your blog entries might be to someone else in their time of need/of loneliness... you may have very well saved my life.

Also, thanks to Chuck Norris for contributing 3 drops of his powerful sweat into the ingredients of the hot chocolate Ovaltine (it's the Thailand formula)...those sweat droplets kicked EMO’s ass and allowed for the fog to finally clear from my poor dilapidated brain.

Score at the end of this round:

Chuck Norris' Chocolate Ovaltine: 1

E.M.O.: 0

~I surrender to The Writing Womb~

>