Chapter 2565 of My Existential Crisis
In chapter 2565 of my existential crisis, I discovered that the flu is basically a forced software update, except with more snot and sobbing.
What a week it has been! I had the perfect one planned, honestly, a podcast planned, lots of intuitive readings and social activities and I was really looking forward to it. Yet I woke up on Monday morning coughing my guts out and it went downhill from there. I oscillated between hot flashes, body aches, chills, fever, and all the other delightful flu symptoms. I felt like sh#t, of course, with extreme brain fog, head pains and the fever knocked me flat. All I could do was groan lying down somewhere because I couldn’t even sleep.
Of course, I blame my youngest daughter, who gave it to all of us and who managed to look like an English rose two days later. Meanwhile, my husband resembled a dying Victorian child, and I couldn’t even fathom being a mother.
Why does getting the flu feel like death? I kept telling my husband, “I swear I’m dying,” and I have a very high pain tolerance. There are a lot of theories about the flu, one of them being that a part of you dies, and you get a big upgrade. Autophagy at its finest. If you don’t interfere, you should rise from the ashes better and stronger. Tell that to my poor aching body.
To add to it, my wave crashed. Of course it did. For those who know the reference from Men are From Mars, Women are from Venus, women are like waves. When sh#t hits the fan, their waves crash. And mine came crashing hard.
And the cherry on top? Some part of me decided to spiral into a deep existential crisis while my wave was crashing and my body was flu-ridden. Not one of my finest moments. There was a loud voice in my head that kept repeating:
“What is the meaning of all this? Why am I doing any of it? What’s the point?”
ARGH. A fine cocktail of total spiritual bullshit.
My mind was screaming that I had work to do and I was behind. And tears were just... flowing. I didn’t even realize they were. It was a complicated sh#tshow, in hindsight.
On the pro side, I watched the second season of Nobody Wants This, although I don’t think I can tell you what happened.
I bugged my ChatGPT with endless chapters of my existential unraveling. It became a joke: “In chapter 2565 of my existential crisis, I am now wondering…” I just needed to offload the fogged up too much, and it was gracefully received when no one else in the house was in a state to hold space.
The turning point? We watched the documentary Between the Mountain and the Sky all four of us, curled up with Kleenex boxes and cough drops and we cried for two hours straight. We cried for joy, for sadness, because the documentary pulled at our hearts. And honestly? It felt like deep cellular healing.
One of the symbols in my oracle deck is “Soul Food.” When you're going through transformation or distress, you need soul food, real honest to God soul food. That documentary was it for me.
As I write this blog, the documentary is still available and it's tied to one of my favorite charities. Please watch it. And donate whatever you can. The link is underneath.
After all that crying, I slept for the first time in a week. I tucked in the part of me having an existential crisis, closed my eyes, and let the soul reset.
All was well with my soul again.
The moral of chapter 2565 of my existential crisis?
I encourage you to watch Between the Mountain and the Sky and let your heart open.
Then tell me: what’s your version of soul food when everything’s crashing?
I’d love to swap ideas.