by J.R. Gudeon. @j.r.__gudeon.
NEW YORK, NY - Despite my better judgment and the fact that I have IBS, I ate cheese an hour ago. Is this the new tick..tick... BOOM? There is no way Jonathan Larson could have felt more anxiety than I do in this moment.
I sympathize with the fact that Mr. Larson was extremely stressed. But the fear of failure isn’t as bad as not having a bathroom nearby after enjoying an innocent cheese cube. People turn 30 every day, but how many people do you know who have pooped in the street? Exactly. None that you know of. We live in the shadows of our shame.
The good news is that I’ve been down this road before and have advice I can trust. I just need to remember what my doctor said the last time I called her in this situation:
“You’re at a Jonathan Larson-level of stress, and I’d like to take you down to a healthy ‘Lin Manuel Miranda’. Also, you’re interrupting my shake-weight session. I can say with certainty that regardless of if you find a bathroom or not, a boom is imminent.”
You might think that I’m to blame – that I don’t deserve sympathy because I’m consuming foods I know my body can’t handle. But this has been my path for 15 years, ever since I drank a milkshake in Washington Square Park and Jonathan Larson appeared to me through my pain. I'll never forget what he said:
“Hi! You seem like you need a friend, and when I hear that tick of doom I materialize, kinda like the sword of Gryffindor. I’d normally say to chase your dreams, but I’m not sure how I feel about your particular case. Your cycle of self-sabotage is fascinating, and I have an idea for a song about how you can fix it. I’ll call it Therapy.”
Oh god, the ticking is getting louder. If I don’t find a bathroom fast, I’m going to have to relieve the tension in an even more destructive manner: By singing about my struggles on the roof of a Soho diner.
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