I’ve learned it’s never a good idea to listen to my brain, especially when the noise is negative. And adamant. So, I’ve stuck my fingers in my ears a lot over the summer. Lalalala. I can’t hear you.
But brains are insidious, crafty, gray matter ferrets. Mine can sniff out a weak spot and gnaw until there’s room for a nest. Pretty soon, baby brain-ferrets slink through the cracks of my reality. They shred everything, those little stinkers, until fact, delusion, awareness, perception, fear, and anything else they find turn into one, pulpy mess.
I wouldn’t mind this so much if they’d just shut up about it. Unfortunately, I speak fluent Brain Ferret.
Why even go to church? You can’t make any commitments. You can’t even sign up for fun stuff like the Murder Mystery dinner or the music concerts without cancelling most of the time.
Shut it, Boba Ferret.
And nobody noticed that you didn’t attend all summer.
Yes, they did. Scott and Karen said they missed me. And what about those emails from Linda and Sally?
Months ago. That’s not the Community you hoped for.
Shut up, Ferret Bueller. They’re not mind-readers. They can’t know I’m brain-sick unless I tell them. Contrary to your opinion, I’m not the center of everyone’s universe.
You wanted to participate, teach meditation, work on Social Justice teams. Face it. You can’t do that stuff anymore. You’ve lost the capacity to be around people.
Well … Maybe …
You lasted 30 minutes at your cousin’s funeral this weekend before you had to bolt and find a quiet place outside.
I know …
And those are people you’ve known all your life.
Stop. Just stop a minute.
You’re losing your social skills. Your tolerance for distress is shrinking. You’re getting worse. Maybe your brain is starting to rot.
Sometimes it does feel that way.
And that stupid art journal. What is that crap?
Listen here, Family von Ferret, I see the mess you’ve made here. I can’t sort it out right now, so I’m just shutting this door…
WE’LL CHEW THROUGH IT!
And I’m calling the Exterminators.
• • •
Uh huh. That’s right. Slink back to your nest and stay there!
We’ll be back.
Yeah, I know, Arnold Schwartzenferret.
I know.
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