Fighting the Spiral

Quick update: I’m out of the hospital and am back at home healing.

Since I posted my thoughts on spiraling mentally when I’m not feeling well physically (https://jerryrocha.substack.com/p/spiraling to catch up), I wanted to inform my readers that it feels like the spiraling has lessened, as my response has been a touch better. Just a touch, but so long as I’m moving forward, I’ll be encouraged and happy about it.

Up until now, lying here, feeling shitty and terrified, the invading thoughts have been morose.

“I’m about to die. Right now.”

“I’m going to die tonight while I sleep.”

“The doctors initially gave me a week to live, so I’m way beyond my sell-by date.”

“Any minute now…”

These thoughts suck! They accelerate my downward spiral at light speed. I can hear Han Solo shouting, “Hit it, Chewie!”

My new response? I’ve decided to mock my fears.

The past few spirals I’ve replaced, “I’m about to die. Right now,” with, “I got this, I’ll live, but the Bar Rescue guy is going to come over and trash all my action figures while screaming at me.”

I can handle that one. I would not look forward to it, but I could handle that one. It would be worth it just to hear the Bar Rescue guy scream, “Someone has got to step the fuck up and get rid of all these fucking ninjas! There is no place for all these fucking Dinobots either!”

I’d love to hear him bar screaming out the correct names of all the Transformers characters that he’s throwing away.

“You don’t need Wheeljack! Forget Soundwave! Forget Blaster! I don’t want to ever look at Blur again!”

Then have him get all solemn, lean in and say, “We’re holding on to Rodimus Prime. He got a raw deal, and I know how much he meant to your dead mother”

I’d be okay with that.

I’m casting Mel Gibson in my response to, “I’m going to die tonight while I sleep.” The next time good ‘Ol Mel gets a DUI, “Fucking Jerry Rocha. That fucker caused all these fucking wars. Fuck him.”

I could give a shit what Mel Gibson thinks, but having to confront all the bullshit from people online who play Jelly Roll songs at their weddings and funerals would be better than hearing the constant drone about dying in my sleep.

My response to “The doctors initially gave me a week to live, so I’m way beyond my sell-by date.” “Here’s the great news, death is inevitable, but I will live long enough to see Jimi Hendrix come back from the dead to put on a concert where he doesn’t play any music, instead he just laughs at my dick.” I may crowdsource this one.

It sucks that I won’t get to hear Wait Until Tomorrow or Red House, but it’s a helluva lot better than thinking about those asshole doctors who just gave up on me.

I’m going to continue doing this. I believe being able to laugh at something dark will help ease the hold spiraling has on me. I’m going to continue workshopping anything and everything to drown out the negative thoughts because I’m in this fight to win this fight.

I’m hoping that the spiraling will evolve into Tupac and Biggie coming back and collaborating on a record about what an amazing Dungeons and Dragons player I was in the sixth grade.

And because you’re in this fight with me, I’ll let you know what I come up with.

Tip Jar (if you wanna)

I Need to get out more but it’s physically kinda tough sooooo…

Books!

Super Nintendo: The Game-Changing Company That Unlocked the Power of Play- Keza MacDonald

This book about how all these amazing games game to life is as fun to read as the games were to play. Great shit here.

Music!

Tales of Mystery and Imagination (Edgar Allen Poe)- The Alan Parsons Project

In case you thought nothing could be nerdier than recommending a book about Nintendo, I’ll raise the nerd game astronomically give a shout to a prog-rock band putting Edgar Allen Poe stories and poems to music. It’s pretty damn good too!