Nowadays, If You Want to Interact with Me, I Have One Request...

Let's talk about real stuff. 

I do not care about Johnny Depp and Amber Heard. (I started this draft a while back obviously.)

I do not give two shits who JLo is dating. (or married to, which is what has happened.) 

Or how "weird" Cara Delevigne was at an awards show. 

Why?

Because I do not know them. 

I do know YOU, the person I am talking to, though and I would like to hear about your life. 

What's happening? What have your days been like? Even if you think it is boring or mundane, I still wanna hear about it. 

Now, please be warned, I might get a little woogle-y if you bring up feelings, but that's nothing to do with you. Please don't stop talking about them, I will get over the awkwardness after a bit.

And honestly, even though my brain gets weird and woogle-y when feelings are brought into the discussion, it's so important for me to get used to talking about them, because I spent so long simply ignoring them. 

"Oh, I'm so good at compartmentalization!" I'd think to myself. 

But what I was doing is just building a bunch of Doom Boxes for my brain. That I just let build up in there until I had to start unpacking them or I would have room for literally nothing other than looping thoughts and deadlines. 

my brain eating doom boxes

Do you know what a Doom Box is? Doom Box is a phrase coined by the ADHD community (I believe) that refers to those containers you just dump stuff into when you're "cleaning up", then set aside "to look at later" and, of course, never do. 

It's like that but in my brain which is (was) stuffed to the brim with Doom Box after Doom Box filled with all my unprocessed trauma and emotions and insecurities and fears. Basically all the stuff I'd been taught to hide. 

Y'all, here's a tip from me to you. Unpack these Doom Boxes in your brain as soon as humanly possible. Because the things that you let build up can become overwhelming and seemingly insurmountable if you don't. Take it from one who knows. 

And it's real hard to get stared on cleaning and organizing a physical Doom Box. Can you imagine doing it in your brain? With something you can't (in my case) physically picture or see? Yipes, thank goodness for therapy, otherwise I wouldn't have even known where to get started. 

But with the physical doom boxes we have here at the ProfHaus, I'm taking my time. Get the brain straight then it'll be easier to get the house straight.

That's my thought process at least. 

In healing myself over the past couple years my tolerance for what I call 'surface conversations' has dwindled to almost nothing. If you're not involved in the story personally, I could really care less. I want you to be as into YOUR life as you are into a bunch of celebrities lives - or even relative strangers on the internet. 

And I want you to TALK to me (and your friends) about it. And again, you might find your life boring, but I can help you find the magic. Magic in mundanity is my specialty.

It's kind of weird, because you would think I would love talking about celebrities and tv shows and movies and stuff. 

And I do. I still love talking about those things, but I'm don't care much at all about their sex lives or drugs of choice or who's beefin' with who. I care about the art they make - how they make it - their reaction to art - other artists they support - stuff like that. 

I am also into your thoughts and opinions on the art.

It's a very obvious difference in my brain, but I understand there might be a bit more nuance to it, but here's what I'm talking about. 

Looking for someone to go deep on the dialogue in your favorite TV show with? I'm your gal.

Read a cool article about behind the scenes art creation stuff? I would like to hear more, please. 

Read an article about two cast members that are fuckin'? Nah, not for me. Ain't got nothing to gain from that any more. 

Wanna catch a convo about color theory in costuming? Yes, please contact me. This is my jam. 

Wanna talk about how fat/old/ugly/plastic surgery-y someone looked in their latest Instagram? No, I do not. 

Thinking about themes in songs from a specific era or artist? Let's start deep divin'.

Or if there is just, like a book, a movie, a song, a piece of art, a cool tree and definitely any  beautiful rocks you may encounter, that's the shit I wanna talk about with you. 

I mean, yes I want to talk about the sad stuff too. Like I said before, that's how I get better at it! And I thank you for being patient with me, while we get better at the hard stuff together. 

But here's one more thing to keep in mind... with the way my brain works, if you only talk to me about negative things, it's not a good time. 

Cause if that's all I hear from you, that's how I picture you all the time... miserable and unhappy and complaining. 

My brain cannot handle when I hear one story from you (how terrible things are in your relationship/job/life) but then your public face shows that you are happy and in love and working the best job of your life. My brain reads one of those as the lie and I honestly don't know which one, tbh. 

I feel very lucky that people feel safe enough with me to talk about the bad times, but I recently had the realization that, if that's all I hear from you, that's all I know of you. 

Oh, as I say the same thing over and over in this blog, I may have worked it out. 

I don't want to ONLY be the person you come to when you're sad/mad/lost. I wanna be here for the happy/cute/sweet stuff too. And I want to give you both as well. 

I want our friendship to be balanced, you see?

 

1 comment

woozy

I have both real and metaphysical Doom boxes. My real ones sit in the smaller of our 2 guest rooms on a concrete floor. In October of 2022, Hurricane Michael blew out the windows and soaked the carpet. My housekeeper pulled up the soaked carpet and packed the dry things in tubs, threw away the bad things. I was at home alone with the cats for the duration of the storm. And they were hiding under a bed!
I simply have not been able to face the notion of going through those boxes; my PTSD I guess. I think I’ll just hire someone to help since hacking that room from the house is impossible…

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