Some Days, I’m A Little Bit Psycho

If I suffer from another spazz-fest, I’m gonna slap myself in the face – hard. I am friggin’ sick and tired of dealing with my hyper-sensitive reactions – especially when I’m consciously aware I have an ongoing habit of overreacting to, well, almost anything.

Consumed by worry and exhausted from frequent panic attacks, I am miserable. I’m angry and lonely. I’m mentally weak and physically drained. It’s indisputable: I’m often a basket case consumed by crippling anxiety. Although I like to think of myself as a well-balanced, rational guy, some days I find that I’m a little bit psycho. But it’s not all my fault, right?

I agree; I need to tone-down my emotional outbursts. However, if everyone would just quit their constant fuckery, I would be just fine. If everyone would just listen to me, I wouldn’t have to worry, and my angry loneliness would disappear. If everyone would just meet my expectations – which aren’t outrageous – I wouldn’t overreact – and I wouldn’t be mentally and physically drained. After all, I don’t enjoy being distraught over stupid shit; it sucks. However, when I feel hurt, picked on, or ignored – and there isn’t a quick resolution – my obsession begins. To top it off, I make sure whomever I think hurt me knows it. That’s right. They offended me. They stirred up another hysterical episode.

During my last meltdown, I scheduled an emergency appointment with a shrink to understand my despair better. I was smack in the middle of another emotional crisis. After painfully explaining my grief in excruciating detail, the doc sternly pointed at me and said these insulting words:

“Dave, you are codependent.”

“WTF? What do you mean by codependent?”

I wanted to argue. I wanted to cry. I was pissed. Clearly, my psychiatrist was just like everyone else pulling the same old fuckery. I listened anyway, expecting a second unresolved mental breakdown on top of the one I just carefully explained. The most common theme of codependency is an excessive reliance on other people for approval and a sense of identity.

Immediately, I asked for a prescription to ward off this ugly diagnosis. Surly, powerful psych drugs were necessary to prevent my hyper-sensitive overreactions from reoccurring. I readily admitted that some days, I’m a little bit psycho.

“I’m afraid a prescription won’t help you. It’s not about what people say or do to you. It’s all about how you react. You must find your own serenity.”

“It’s all about how I react? I must find serenity? BS. I’ve never experienced serenity – ever. How can I possibly find serenity when everyone else is the asshole?”

I was on the verge of firing this so-called shrink. I needed a real doctor – a doctor that understood me. During my drive home, I thought about the judgment that was slapped upon me. I’ve heard the word before.

A few years ago, one of my friends suggested I read the book Codependent No More. Allegedly, codependency had a stifling hold on my life, and I didn’t even know it. Reluctantly, I purchased an electronic copy and downloaded it to my phone. What a waste of money. It’s not all my fault, right? Everyone else makes me a little bit psycho.

That night, I read a few chapters. A point or two began to resonate: I’ve been afraid to allow others to be who they are, I’ve been afraid to lose control of them, I’ve forced people to see things my way. I failed with all these efforts. My attempt to control others provoked their anger and as a byproduct, created misery for myself. Eventually, I realized it was time to learn how to control the only thing I had the genuine power to control: myself.

To begin the anti-spazz healing process, I started to accept that I have no power over anyone’s thoughts or actions. Instead of blaming everyone else for my despair, I forced myself to look closer at me. Clearly, I have a disabling fear of rejection. Obviously, I suffer from approval addiction. Undoubtedly, I create an unhealthy validation of others by obsessing in my own negative thoughts.

At the end of the day, all I’m left with is me. I am left with my thoughts, my emotions, and my actions. It is my decision how I chose to think, feel, and behave. I can choose to be distraught, frantic, and frenzied with another spazz-fest; or I can choose to be lucid, rational, and reasonable. I can choose to consume myself with misery, or I can choose to reach for serenity. It’s a long road, but a worthwhile goal. I refuse to make others and myself miserable with my selfish anxiety-laced emotional outbursts.

Yeah, I’m still a little bit psycho. But I’m working on it.

Photo Credit: Arun kumar | Photography Flickr via Compfight cc


Dave Pasquel

After living under a rock for nearly 25 years, Dave had his eyes opened wide to the world in 2010 after marrying his crazy cat lady wife. Intrigued by controversy, culture, lifestyle, current events and history, Dave has traveled to 41 states and a handful of foreign countries. Defined as ‘metro’ by his three kids, you will often find him cleaning the house instead of working out in the yard. In his spare time, Dave likes to write sappy love songs but will be the first to admit that he can’t carry a tune.

One thought on “Some Days, I’m A Little Bit Psycho

  1. Dori OwenDori Owen

    Dave, I love this. Such easy to understand definitions and examples. It really made me think. With everyone else I don’t give a damn, but I must be codependent on my 86 year old mother who I take care of. She brings out the worst in me. Constantly. I think I have a little homework to do, too. Loved this blog. xD.

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