An Emotional Enema

Monday April 20th, 2009 – Chicago, IL

I’ve always been a freak. Even from my earliest memories, there was always everybody else and then me. One of the very first memories I have is of both my grandparents sitting me down and trying to explain to me why I was living with them and what would happen if I didn’t behave myself the way they wanted me to. It made me feel like a total outsider.

I still do. From that uncomfortable meeting until this very day I’ve had to struggle to fit in and way more often than not I ended up the lone wolf. Worse than that many times it’s been me against everyone else. At least by myself nobody’s around to create any tension.

What made me think of that is it’s April 20th – “4-20”. I assume everyone knows what it means but if not it’s a slang term dope smokers use to signify a joint hanging out of one’s mouth at the angle a clock’s hands would occupy at 4:20. That’s as simple as I can say it.

I’m sure there are all kinds of parties going on and Frito Lay probably loves it because it has to be the second biggest day for selling snack chips behind Super Bowl Sunday. I was at Zanies in Chicago tonight hosting the rising star showcase and someone mentioned that fact right at the top of the show. It got applause and the crowd knew exactly what it was.

It was an inside joke that most of the people in the room were in on. I knew what it was but I’ve never been in on it. Without sounding pompous I’ve never smoked a single joint in my life. Ever. I never had a single puff. Nor have I had a brownie. Not even a nibble.

I’ve never done a line of coke either. Really. I came of age in the ‘80s when everybody and their grandma was snorting lines off of any mirror they could find but I never ever did it even once. I wasn’t even curious about it. It’s just something that never appealed to me.

I never drank alcohol either. Not even one beer. And I grew up in Milwaukee where that statement is probably at least a misdemeanor. That never interested me either. I didn’t like the way people acted when they were drunk and I saw at an early age I didn’t want it to be me so I never started. It wasn’t a hard decision at all. What was hard was everybody else.

So many other people put such a priority on all those things that I really feel like I’m the outsider. I don’t bring it up unless it comes up but when people find out I’m not a drinker and never have been it’s usually awkward. They either try to get me to join them or worse yet offer up justification as to why they do it. I want neither. I just want to find a groove.

I don’t really care what anyone else does as long as it doesn’t hurt me and I’m certainly not trying to tell anyone else how to live their life but it does get kind of lonely when I‘m on the road after a show and everyone else is blasted but me. I never liked that feeling.

All this goes a lot deeper than a few people snickering at a pot joke in a comedy club on 4-20. That’s what makes it so maddening. It reminds me of how lost I feel in life and how cruel a joke it seems that I have fought my way through this insane world without a buzz.
Sometimes I wonder why the hell I was even born at all and why I’m still here drifting through so aimlessly and trying to survive and find myself all these years later. I thought I’d have figured it out by now or at least have a lot more concrete answers than I’ve got.

I know everyone else has problems but they’re not like mine and I have precious few to talk to when I’m feeling low. There are lots of people who’ve had drinking problems so it isn’t difficult to find an AA meeting in any city. Try to find a ‘Never Did It’ meeting. It’s not an issue that needs to be dealt with. Do I wish I drank? No. I wish I wasn’t so alone.

This is really starting to bother me as I get older. I always used to think I’d find my way eventually and everything would just work out in the end. I don’t think that anymore and I can feel myself losing my inner spark of hope that used to be all that kept me going in my very darkest times. I used to feel that there was a reason for me being here. I don’t now.

If we’re here for a purpose I have yet to find out what mine is. Try as I might to turn my life into something worthwhile and useful I feel like nobody hears my inner screams and I continue to drift down that river with no oars in my boat. It doesn’t even feel like I have a boat at this point. I can feel the water getting choppy and I can hear those rapids up ahead.

What happens then? Going over the rapids is usually a sure sign of demise and I’m fine with that. We all have to go at some point and that’s not a problem. I’m having a problem with why I had to come. What the hell made me think I needed to win that sperm race and hit that egg so fast? All it’s caused is a lifetime of frustration and it’s getting pretty stale.

I’m trying my best to stay positive but today is one of those days when I’m not thinking  Norman Vincent Peale thoughts. I’m thinking Vincent Price thoughts of how life can be a big horror movie and I’m at the end where it’s just me and the killer. I’m sick of running.

I had a younger comic at Zanies come up to me recently and say “I read your blog a lot. I like that it’s not funny.” I shot him back a scowl that made him back up and try to say it in another way but I started laughing and then he did too. I knew what he meant. I think.

After talking with him further he said he liked the fact that I wasn’t afraid to put all my innermost feelings out there for anyone to see. I feel that’s how everyone should be but it sure isn’t like that from my experience. At least I’m able to say what I think even if it has no punch lines attached. I know how to be funny when I need to be. This isn’t that time.

This is my daily dose of drainage to my mental colon. It’s an emotional enema and I am not doing it for anyone else but me while I’m doing it. The reason I put it out there is so it hopefully helps other dented cans who might have the same feelings I do. I know I’m not alone in having problems dealing with life – I just have problems not many others share.

All that being said, I feel pretty good right now. I still don’t know why I’m stuck on this insane planet surrounded by so many idiots but that’s nothing new. I’ve wondered that all along ever since I was a kid. As I get older I know it won’t be forever. I’m one day closer.

One Response to “An Emotional Enema”

  1. Erica (@_Catalyst) Says:

    Wow. Minus a detail or two…but this feels like something my thoughts would have written.

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