I think I’m going to die soon.
Listen, I’ve thought that I would die before I hit 26 since I was young. Really. I’ve heard lots of people think this, but I really genuinely think it might all be over soon for me. And when it is, I want you all to publish this post as a big, fat warning. So that other people who say “you know, I really think I’m going to die young” can shut up and look at the signs. Because here they are.
As a general observation, my brain is simply shutting down. I think it’s just tired. Tired of thinking, tired of learning new words and procedures and rules and things. Tired of figuring stuff out and explaining it to other people, tired of having people figure things out and explain them to me. It’s just done. It’s off. It’s actively rebelling. Every day is a struggle against its stubbornness. More and more often I’m doing things like putting cereal in the fridge. Or squirting conditioner all over my loofah and washing with it.
The other day, I almost brushed my teeth with hemorrhoid cream.
Listen. I know you won’t believe me, but it’s a great way to reduce eye puffiness. It’s just not a good idea to keep it in your medicine cabinet. Because you might find that when you’re about to die, your brain shuts down and you’re more prone to try to clean your teeth with butt cream.
I’ve also seriously started to rely on talking myself through situations. When things just aren’t connecting for me, I talk myself through it. Out loud. I usually call myself names and say terrible things. I’m not incredibly patient or optimistic when faced with my own moronicness. And whereas I used to crank through it like a champ – now I have to talk aloud. I have to walk myself through it verbally. “Click this. Put the paper down. Remember your keys. Take the cereal back out of the fridge.” Sometimes I have to just have a conversation with myself in the mirror. “I’ll just go there, pick that up, run over there, grab that unless it closes early, and then I might be able to do such and such”.
In these last moments of life, it’s important to do a little self-coaching. Else, I might accomplish nothing whatsoever and my cupboards will be chock full of curdled milk.
I’ve also become completely incapable of dealing with stress. I don’t know how I’ve done it my entire life up until now. It’s like I’ve just completely forgotten how to let things go and relax. Or how to handle 15 different things at once. Now I just come home, eat things that will make me die sooner, and rock myself to sleep as my body tries very, very hard to not have a stroke.
My motor skills are almost entirely deteriorated. My hands write and type things I don’t intend and I can’t even control them enough to delete or rewrite them correctly. I knock things over, crack my limbs on things, and sometimes stare at an object for several seconds sending a message to my body to do something to it but nothing happens. I just stare. Sometimes I’m in the middle of a conversation and I just stop. I just completely stop. As if someone has sucked every thought out of my brain I don’t know what I’m talking about, why I’m with the person in front of me, or what the last thing they said was. And even if I stand there for thirty seconds, it won’t come to me. I have to just accept defeat and walk away baffled and how failure is humanly possible on such a blatant, epic scale.
It’s time to face the facts: my time is coming to an end. I hit the 20’s and fast-forwarded straight to senility. It’s only a matter of time before I start involuntarily relieving myself and shouting at strangers.
Remember friends: these were the signs of a swift approaching death. ♣