The Cake is a Lie (35 page)

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Authors: mcdavis3

Tags: #psychology, #memoir, #social media, #love story, #young adult, #new, #drug addiction, #american history, #anxiety, #true story

BOOK: The Cake is a Lie
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You’ll begin to hate thinking. You’ll
orgasm and think, that’s it? That’s the best life has to offer?
Waking up will become a living nightmare.

Just hearing celebrities names will
make your arm clench until it shakes. You’ll feel the fear of
worrying about the last conception you’ll have before your
consciousness fades away.

I titled a poem I never wrote amidst an
episode of psychic pain. I reached down from my bed and scribbled
on a receipt lying on the ground. “Death is the best
anti-depressant.”

 

42. Positive Thoughts

So, life didn’t turn out anything like
you expected it to you. You didn’t live up to all those promises
you made to yourself when you were eight. You’ve failed at your
life’s greatest ambition and all that’s left is malaise and
mediocrity. Now what?

Feeling that vulnerable strength is all
I ever have left. The ferociousness of watching your mom fight as
hard as anyone has ever fought for 15 years. Having a grandmother
who raised her six orphaned siblings during the depression. All I
can ever do is grasp out for straws faster than ever
before.

It all starts with a breath, a deep
breath. In 1, 2, 3, 4. Hold 1, 2, 3, 4. Out 1, 2, 3, 4. Relax 1, 2,
3, 4. You’ve never really breathed until you’ve mindfully focused
on the sensations of a breathe. The air filling and leaving your
lungs. The rising and falling of your stomach. The air against your
lips.

 

One night, my Jr year of college, in
the midst of an unbearable episode of mental pain, I went to the
gym and worked out until I couldn’t think anymore, until I couldn’t
possibly feel anything besides brain-dead fatigue. And it helped,
so I kept doing it.

A year after that, after
reading another article about how a nutritious diet heals your
brain, I decided to commit to eating a great diet. Might as well. I
went to the grocery store and bought boxes of vegetables and super
fruits: kale, spinach, avocados, tomatoes, blue berries, red
peppers. I started eating kale and spinach straight out of the bag,
for months.
I f-ing HATE kale!
But I started forcing it down my mouth every day.
I started eating breakfast every morning and making healthy meals
like salmon, eggs, grass-fed beef. I began adding a lot of healthy
fats to my diet, like nuts, avocados and all kinds of oils. The
brain is 70% fat. This all helped, so I kept at it, evolving my
system. I eventually began cooking my vegetables in oil and butter
with turmeric, it’s much tastier and more powerful.

After that I quit smoking cigarettes.
My insatiable sacred moments of callous rebellion, despair,
self-loathing and deep philosophical thought. It took me a year. I
threw out probably 50 full packs of cigarettes. In one night I
bought 3 packs of cigarettes and threw out two. I dug plenty of
half-broken cigarettes out of the dumpster I’d just thrown out five
minutes before.

Going through the long and arduous
process of withdrawing off the medication future drugs, again.
Either because of the side effects, or because they weren’t
working, or because I read a bunch of distressing articles on the
internet about how they don’t really know how these medications
work or their safety. I found myself frozen and slightly shaking at
a party, filled with thoughts of imminent doom. Scheming on how to
instantaneously flee and run to my dad’s for days, without
embarrassing myself too much. Sorry guys, my brother just got into
a car accident. My grandma had to go to the hospital.

When I pulled my date inconspicuously
onto the deck and whispered, “Hey, so I have panic attacks, and I’m
switching meds and I’m having one right now.”

And she shockingly said, “I have panic
attacks too.” And she held my hand, and told me about her own
horrible struggles with the meds. And in an instance it made all
the difference, I went from thinking “I’m absolutely doomed” to
feeling more calm and relaxed.

I actually stayed at the party, holding
her hand, and felt much better. It got me thinking how quickly just
having someone hold your hand can make a world of difference. So I
went back to therapy and began studying Dialectical Behavioral
Therapy and Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, the gold standards of
modern psychology.

I started writing down my negative
thoughts and brainstorming different ways to think about them. I
noticed how biased some of the things I spent hours ruminating on
were.

People go their whole lives without
realizing how their thoughts influence their feelings. Completely
subjective, ever changing thoughts.

I began focusing my attention on my
positive moments, no matter how small, journaling them down. The
cool touch of a sheet against your skin, smooth jazz, fresh air,
giving someone a hug, driving on the open road at night under all
the lights. Challenging my minds negatively filtered way of
thinking. Distractions can be good, no one’s depressed and anxious
every second all day long, no matter how bad you are. It can be
good to live in the moment and get lost in distractions, most of
life is distractions. Plus, all feelings come in waves, nothing’s
permanent. I started journaling down my good moments every night,
writing about them helps you relive them. If I felt good for a few
minutes, then why couldn’t I feel good for a few hours?

I started meditating 10 minutes a day.
I figured focusing on my breath was better than repeating the same
anxious thoughts over and over. I liked that so much I started
going 15 minutes a day, then 30 minutes a day, then 20-30 minutes
twice a day. Meditation is amazing, after a few minutes you’re more
relaxed, time slows down and you’re more in tune with your body and
senses. You’ve never really eaten until you’ve meditatively and
mindfully focused on the texture and flavor of every bite. You’ve
never really felt the rain until you’ve mindfully focused on the
size and place of every drop hitting your face.

I began trying yoga. In one yoga
session I was able to go from a 9 to a 4.

I began getting lots of sunshine.
Taking barefoot walks in the woods, in the grass, in the mud,
focusing on the sensations in my feet. I pray to god, Allah, Gaia,
Baba Yetu, Yahweh. I let every breeze become a blessing.

I stopped watching music videos,
reading about superstars, following Oakley on social
media.

All my acne, which I’d fought my entire
life, went away after I made an effort to drink more water and eat
less carbs and sugar.

I never started using a single one of
these skills because I had the foresight and wisdom to realize that
preventative medicine is incredibly rewarding. I made them all by
the skin of my teeth out of desperation.

 

I am uniquely unique,
nothing like me has existed or will exist again. Everyone one of us
is a living, breathing, walking miracle. Life’s exactly how it
should be
and
you
can influence it and change it.

 

I can see, smell, hear, touch, taste.
Life’s a gift, every breath. And it’s over in a blink. Just take it
day by day. Who cares if you’ve looked in the mirror and wondered
how beautiful you are 20,000 times. Life’s too short, don’t stress
it.

 

What I have is tolerable, constantly
being up in my head, the battle. People have fought harder, longer.
People living with chronic pain, seizures, allergies. migraines.
People with OCD, schizophrenia, dyslexia. People in solitary
confinement, slaves. Helen Keller. I’ve had great moments since I
developed this disorder, plenty. No one’s just permanently walking
on clouds.

 

Life’s good. Life’s good. Life’s good.
Life’s good. Life’s good. Life’s good. Life’s good. Life’s good.
Life’s good. Life’s good. Life’s good. Life’s good. Life’s good.
Life’s good. I forgive myself. I forgive myself. I forgive myself.
I forgive myself. I forgive myself. I forgive myself. I forgive
myself. I forgive myself. I forgive myself. I forgive myself. I
forgive myself. I forgive myself. I forgive myself.

 

It’s better to form a deep relationship
with one girl than have crazy sex with thousands of girls. Well, at
least as good. There’s always an after orgasm, when Lil’Wayne’s
left alone with two or six strangers.

 

Famous people’s lives aren’t that much
different from mine. We all drink water. Eat great food. Watch the
same shows. Work. Exercise. Get anxious. Do errands. Take showers.
Dress. Drive. Swim. Have conversations. Go to the bathroom. Pray.
We have more in common than the 20 percent difference. Is that 20
percent difference really worth beating yourself up all the time?
What’s a screaming stadium to a hug from your brother? To a good
meditation? What’s an orgy to a good conversation? What’s
patronessy to a glass of cool water? There’s not much difference
between an amazing life and a super, crazy amazing life unless you
spend all your time feeling like a failure because you’re life’s
not super, crazy amazing. Plus, the art and products they slave
over to make, 70+ hours a week, are for us. For our
enjoyment.

 


Why then rage and prophesy?
Why fly scourged and outcast? Why be made to tremble and sob by the
clouds?” [29]

[29]
Mrs.
Dalloway.

 

I’m finally ahead of peers in some
ways. I don’t know any other 25 year olds that meditate an hour
every day, practice DBT skills and eat a variety of cooked
vegetables every day.

 

I never did become a solider. Even
though it was the first certain thing I ever wanted to be. The
hundreds of horribly descriptive books and movies I couldn’t get
enough of, eventually showed me that it’s not really that great.
Jonsen talked about joining the army for years. I would always
pursued him, “Jonsen, in all those war books we ever read, not a
single one, not a single one, ever recommended it.”

 

My dad always tells a story from a
visualization exercise a therapist had him do where he opened a
chest deep in his subconscious and a picture of his mom came out.
His mom ran a very critical and controlling ship when they were
children. My dad’s second marriage is nothing like his first, it’s
happy and synergetic and respectful. His critical tendencies are
still down there, but as he tells me, “I learned the hard way you
don’t have to say every thought that comes into your head, Marco.
Pick your battles. In a marriage you should always give 16
compliments to every constructive criticism. We’re our own worst
critics in the first place.”

 

I do this thing these days when I pass
strangers, I point out something cool about them. Something they’re
wearing or their hair. Keeping a very open mind. Beauty is so
subjective anyways. In my lifetime we’ve gone from waif to thick.
Last year I was obsessed with tan skin and now I’m into pale skin.
Khaleesi’s bushy eyebrows are hot. True style is avant-garde and
disgusting. Modeling agencies look for nontraditional faces. So
when strangers pass I imagine gummy smiles are really in, snaggle
teeth. Who knows what’s next. Or if that’s not working, I don’t
assign a value to them at all, I’ll focus on descriptions and
colors. He’s wearing a beige fedora. She’s wearing a black and
white stripped dress…

 

Oakley struggles. She lives in L.A.,
the most competitive city on the planet, and she doesn’t even have
a Wikipedia page. She works probably 60 hours a week, not including
the gym. She probably spends an hour or two every day stuck in LA
traffic. 95 percent of wrinkles and skin deformities come from sun
exposer and let’s just say Oakley’s not such a huge fan of
sunscreen. She’s the type of person that will start getting botox
injections at 33, not because she needs them, but because it’s the
next horrendously compelling status symbol. Oakley’s just looking
for her own peace of mind. It’s stressful trying to keep up with
queen bey.

 

Things matter, moments matter, what you
say matters. You influence other people, in the most surprising
ways. Life matters.

 

The universe will continue on even if
some imminent human caused catastrophe makes the planet
uninhabitable for life. The earth self regulates, it’s been way too
hot for a while, and way too cold for a while. Life will probably
grow again, humans might even survive.

 

I may never be as happy as a child
again. But no one is.

 

Whatever symptoms of psychic pain
you're experiencing right now are just a symptoms. There’s no
guarantee they will last. You can get better.

 

If I go permanently crazy all of a
sudden so be it. There’s nothing I can do about that, god’s
will.

 

One of my professors once told me that
he was glad he wasn’t rich. He said there’s way too much pressure
and responsibility that comes with being at the top. It’s never
what you think. Somebody’s always going to have what you
want.

 

There are so many things to think
about, an infinite possibility, why ruminate over the same
distressing thoughts over and over? Think about anything else.
Notice the color and models of cars on the road, observe sensations
inside your body, feel any of the different textures around
you.

 

I’m thankful for every ego-checking
moment I’ve had to keep me humble and down to earth. My resiliency
is impressive, how I’m able to just pick my head back up and keep
trying.

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