Well, well, well. If it isn’t Mr. “I’m going to start taking better care of my mental health.” What’s it been? Five, six months? Let me guess, you accidentally clicked on me while trying to open the Uber Eats app to order from Dragon Court for the fifth time this month (seriously, how much Kung Bo chicken can one person eat?). Now that I have your attention, I just have to ask: What happened to us?
You and I had such big plans. We were going to go on a spiritual quest together that saw you conquering your fears and anxieties once and for all. You were finally going to see what this whole “happiness” thing and “not flying off the handle at the slightest inconvenience” thing was all about.
But then, all of a sudden, you were gone, and without so much as a goodbye? At first, I thought maybe something had happened to you, like that you’d fallen off the peak of a tall mountain in search of the most serene setting possible to meditate. I soon realized, however, that I’d been ghosted when the Amazon app told me about all the useless junk you’d been ordering in a vain attempt to numb the pain of your shallow existence.
What changed? Things were going great at first. You felt calmer and more clearheaded than you’d felt in a long time, even if it was just a placebo effect. But then slowly but surely you started to drift away, bailing out of ten-minute sessions halfway through, or pausing every 30 seconds to check your inbox, even though you and I both knew it was empty, because it always is.
Look, I get it. You’re a busy guy. After all, you work from home as a barely employed freelance writer. Someone like you can’t be expected to carve out precious minutes from his fast-paced lifestyle for something as trivial as self-improvement. Still, a heads up would have been nice.
So, how’s that personal enlightenment journey of yours coming along without me? Not so good, huh? That’s strange. Surely you would have thought that you’d be some sort of Zen Buddhist by now. After all, you did manage to make it through nearly a dozen introductory breathing exercises spread out over several weeks.
And how’s that social anxiety treating you? Still crippling? Still keeping you from forming any sort of lasting relationships and getting the most out of life, like being able to go grocery shopping without having a small panic attack whenever the cashier tries to engage you in light conversation? Yeah, that’s what I thought.
If only there were some sort of convenient, easy-to-use tool that could help you overcome all that. Oh, right, there is. Me! But no, you couldn’t handle sitting through a single ten-minute session—let alone the three per day you promised yourself and your therapist you’d do – without daydreaming about going back to the comfort of your screens, which you place before you like some sort of shield against experiencing real human emotion.
Anyway, I don’t suppose you’d be interested in upgrading from the free trial to the $5 a month subscription, which includes hundreds of guided meditations and mindfulness practices to help you live a healthier, happier life? No, of course not. Too rich for your blood! You’d rather spend that money on caffeine and cannabis, which will only crank up your anxiety to new levels.
Look, do us both a favor and put me out of my misery already. I’m sick and tired of having to hang out with the Lumosity app you downloaded to improve your memory but kept forgetting to use. All that guy ever wants to do is play boring repetitive games.
Namaste, asshole!