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Full Version: Anxiety Hangover
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Do you have them, or the physical kind? Or both?

They last for days, anxiety hangovers. You feel like everyone important to you is dead and you've committed every crime there is, and that you just realized clearly that you aren't a good person or have any value as a human being. 

And you feel such an extreme feeling of pointlessness in everything, and at the same time everything matters so much you almost can't do anything, even use the bathroom or cough without feeling like everything depends on it and that the prospects are grim.

And it's not feeling sorry for yourself, you wish you could fall back old some good-old humanizing self-pity, but there is no comfort, you forget how comfort feels and believe (even though you've went through it a hundred times before) things are never going to be right with you in this world ever again. I'm sure people commit suicide during these kinds of hangovers. 

Do any of you have them?


I would say, not do that degree. But sometimes i do get a feeling...
Yeah I get em. Usually in the shower, but who doesn't do a great deal of thinking there? Pretty easy for anyone to slip into those little existential panics. I would usually fear that whatever I do artistically won't resonate with anyone at all and then I find pointlessness in my ideas, which aren't really mine anyway. And in the sense of venting and having a purpose, I feel like art is really all I have for now.

But whatever I guess lol
I'd go up to the Virgin Mary herself and ask her out when I'm drunk, without a worry in my head. And when I'd sobered up and considered my approach, I'd go ask her again. Now the hangovers last days, and the stress of a supernatural, or several hundred, entity crawls over me like termites under an old log in the woods.

And as for art, I never know what anyone thinks. I've been around long enough to know that in the artworld there's a thin line between praise and mockery. Praise/Mockery, see the line? Then there's utter rejection. But I always just tell myself that the rejection is based on my looks, and that makes me feel better.


We are all connected by pain--<3-- It is the universal medicine that connects each heart. While not everyone can relate to the degree in which you are looking for relation, I feel almost every artist and poet alike have experienced the exact agony. We all have different experiences and have different circumstances going on in our lives, however, there will always be someone in a more dire situation somewhere (this thought always makes my pity temporarily disappear) . I cannot say I don't pity myself- I write partly because I do. No one wants to admit to that. I know, it may seem very difficult right now, but if you could find some positive reason as to why the anxiety is there, it will become a lot easier to bare. Poetry is my positive reason. The only reason why I don't want to erase my past now. Before poetry though.. I couldn't say the same.
I know we're all connected, and that complicates matters. Just today, for instance: I was upset because the girl I was, is are am, in love with was at the bar where my local writers' group meets. I was all upset and they could tell. She left with some college professor guy, the kind of guy she's always with. And they said Why are you so insecure, why do you have no confidence? And I said Nobody has or ever will write a better poem about this woman than I have, and I've written several. . . . I'm jealous because they have the girl I love, and I don't. But soon these college professors will be teaching the stuff I write: So take your insecurity and nonconfidence shit and shove it back up your asses. And let me go off and die my lonely, pathetic life alone.

And, by the way, I wasn't using irony when I said I've written the best poems about this woman that's ever been written. I have. Everybody else is too busy dating her. But still. Who the fuck's going to remember who she's dating? . . Her kids?

And I wasn't using irony when I said I've written the best poems about her that's ever been written. But, then again, that's really not saying much. God damn, bullshit college professors, and their credibility. . . . You know where autodidacts went to school? you guessed it, The wrong school.