The past year, when I can’t stand the world or the pit in my chest refuses to loosen, I reach for my vape. The pit doesn’t go away, but I do feel lighter, if only because it’s hard to be overwhelmed by the world if it ceases to feel real. “Disconnect, slow down, go away,” it seems to say, but I don’t slow down; I just go broke buying $25.99 vapes every week and a half.
Before I vaped, I smoked, and before I smoked, I did some really foul shit which I won’t go into here. I don’t believe talking about harmful habits on the Internet is generally constructive. Sometimes awareness of a thing is the same as promotion (honestly, the ‘The Real Cost’ ads make me crave a mango puff), so I’d argue the most healthful thing to do for the universe is shut up.
Still, more often than not, it feels as though the only meaningful contributions we, as individuals, can make are those to ourselves. The world might burn tomorrow but damned if we can’t dye our hair pink or learn how to knit. Life is frequently excruciating, and we should cling to whatever makes it a little easier, right? This was my little thing. My sick, fruity lifeline.
Well, you can congratulate me because I’ve lasted almost three weeks without nicotine, and I’m totally miserable, but at least now I can walk up the stairs to my apartment without heart palpitations. So when it feels like I’m tied to a car going 70 as the 101 scrapes me, burns me alive, leaves me bleeding alone in the morning rush, I go for a walk, maybe take a shower, call my boyfriend and cry about it.
I wouldn’t take my advice on how to slow down—I can’t meditate for more than sixty seconds because I get anxious when there’s no music on—but I’ll give it to you anyway; it’s free.
Watch children playing at a local park or other outside areas for at least forty-five minutes. This exercise is both soothing and a prescient reminder of the cyclical nature of life. An added benefit is increased tolerance for screaming children on a plane. Male-presenting people should not do this unless from the safety of their apartment: you will get the authorities called on you. For women, soften your eyes when looking at the children to appear maternal; you’ll look less creepy.
Scroll on TikTok until a kind face tells you you’ve been scrolling for “too long” (what is too long?). When you see the face, put your phone down. You will end the session pleasantly numb with a sense of minor accomplishment.
Read a somewhat smutty romance novel in a public space. If you can, obstruct the cover to give a sense of mystery; people can assume you’re reading books on economics without having to endure reading anything smart.
Go outside when it’s going to be hottest and run for as long as possible. It probably won’t be that long. Spend $8.79 on a smoothie and drink it in the air-conditioned comfort of your car.
Listen to smart podcasts not pertaining to your chosen profession. You will learn new things and sound smart at parties without using that much brain power. I’m all about giving the illusion of intelligence with none of the work.
Shower in a sitting position. Do your whole routine: shampoo, conditioner, the whole nine yards from down there. If you’re like me and take night showers, bring a beer or seltzer to drink between rinses. You won’t drink that much, but the novelty will bring some comfort.
Listen to one song on repeat for an entire day. You’ll hate it, then love it, get sick of it, and love it again. This might seem masochistic, but I swear it’s fantastic. Just pick an indisputably good song—not necessarily one you like—you want to feel that all the minutes you spend with it are worthwhile. It should be something you’d like to unpack, like “No Children” by The Mountain Goats or “Silver Springs” by Fleetwood Mac.
Change your sheets and vacuum every corner of your apartment. I don’t do this nearly enough.
Get a straw for your water bottle. It will make you feel like you are vaping when you are not. This is both a blessing and a curse.
Try to remember every single deeply embarrassing thing you have ever done and imagine cutting each individual memory out of your brain like a loaf of bread. This works for me.
Remember: you’re probably neither as good nor as bad as you imagine. You’re just a person.
Write in a journal. Write a love letter, put it in an email, and never send it. Write a screenplay. Write on the Internet. Write something. Anything. You’ll feel better, I promise.