my brain has been acting up. like, always.
it pees on the rug.
i hear a faint rustling in the middle of the night. my brain is whispering the meanest thing it can conjure up. where did you even learn that word?
“bad brain!! bad brain!!!!”
i’m laying in marcos’ bed, sobbing, hyperventilating, snot running out of my nose. i woke up like that. why??
“bad brain! bad brain!!”
my brain ate my passport. it tore up my favorite cowboy boots. it shat out my cutest scrunchies. it hissed and spit at me while it did so.
“no! stop! bad brain!”
my brain manipulates mirrors, it uses my sewing machine to alter my clothes to fuck with me. it tells me no one likes me, it tells me my relationships are all shams. it reminds me of my dad at the worst possible moment. and when i’m whimpering and sniffling it pours salt over me. it watches me squirm.
“stop!!!! bad brain!!!”
when i was 16 my brain told me it hated me. or, at least it sounded like that. it was a bunch of garbled screams that i was trying to make sense of. i was resentful of my brain because it made me responsible for it. i was carrying my brain from room to room, its mass quivering and screeching, like a toddler throwing a tantrum. i’d end every day covered in bites, scratches, my clothes absolutely tattered. i was exhausted.
“bad… brain…….. bad.”
my brain forgets to remind me of important dates. my brain forgets to remind me to make kind gestures for friends and loved ones. my brain’s made my moods swing from chandeliers, breaking glass, saving the shards. my brain’s been trying to screw me over for almost as long as i can remember.
“bad. brain. BAD!”
my brain turned to me, backed in a corner. its pupils dilated, heaving, slobbering, snarling. is it angry? scared? of what? i’ve been nothing but-
oh. right. got it.
nothing reacts well to screaming. nothing reacts well to a stern shout. not me, not my brain.
my brain is in the corner, looking for an out. i reach out a hand, for a brief moment i’m terrified my brain might lurch and bite me, ripping my hand off, eating it whole. i think it sensed my hesitancy.
my brain looked at me before its eyes darted all over the room. i soon realized it wasn’t looking for the next thing to destroy, it was looking for the safest place to hide.
i reached my hand out further, a gesture of truce. of understanding. of forgiveness. of love.
my brain, hesitant, too, took a moment before nestling into my hand. it was warm, wet. purring, maybe?
i started to feel my lips curve into a smile, my cheeks softening. i never noticed how beautiful it was, how soft, how pink, how fragile. how sticky, how slimy. how capable it really was.
and just like that: my brain bit me. i yanked my hand back and clutched my finger to my chest. not too deep, but definitely bleeding.
my brain scurried into the next room, but not without looking back at me for a second. a look of forgiveness, of knowing.
that bitch either needs a shot or a leash. jury’s still out.
This is amazing - bad brain bad brain whutchu gonna do
don't bite the hand that feeds you doesn't apply here, i lol'ed several times