How to celebrate World Mental Health Day like the crazy bitch you are

On a bus? It’s only courteous to apologize to everyone for the noise your head is making.

Primal scream therapy has been largely debunked. Instead, try emptying your mind, relaxing your muscles, opening your throat, and then, for as long as you can sustain it, make a noise like a wabbit*. I think you’ll find it immensely liberating (for other people).

Throw glitter on people, so they will understand what a strong person you are! Or something! I don’t know, I saw it on a meme.

If you can’t find your pants, simply stand in the middle of the house and shout, “PANTS! PANTS! PANTS! PANTS! PANTS!” until someone comes running with your pants. I know you’ll think I’m just saying this because it was on a TV show, and you’re right; but on the other hand, it actually works. It sometimes takes a while, e.g.. when no one else is home, but this is when persistence counts.

Hey, why don’t you smoke a lot of pot? That will help! Smart smart smart!

Those “hippe-dippie” calming mantras are actually surprisingly effective, and can really ease anxiety and restore your sense of peace and proportion. Just be sure you have found one that is completely unique to you. If you accidentally use someone else’s mantra, they will know, and — you know what, nothing bad will happen, probably. It’s just something to keep in mind. You know what, it’s probably fine. Don’t worry about it.

Break into your therapist’s office after hours and hang up all his friggin’ pictures. The Ansel Adams and the generic tree landscape, and that dreadful framed inspirational poster with the kayak, that have all been leaning up against the wall since your intake visit, marking the spot where they are supposed to be hung. And also the clock that always shows 9:53, with the unopened package of batteries balanced on top of it. Seriously. Is this just to make you feel more sane in comparison, or what? Is this some kind of social experiment? Is that even ethical? Why 9:53???

When did you last eat something? Fingernails doesn’t count. Geez, go have a spoonful of peanut butter and then we can figure out if existence is really empty and meaningless or not. I’m not saying it’s not. I’m just saying, have some peanut butter.

Always remember: It’s okay to shoot your TV screen for saying “Flappity flippers!” one more time. You warned it.


Image: Asiir at English Wikipedia (Asiir) [CC BY 2.5 (], via Wikimedia Commons

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9 thoughts on “How to celebrate World Mental Health Day like the crazy bitch you are”

  1. Are you trying to ridicule mental health day or make some kind of joke? If ridicule, please go feed yourself to army ants and die in a slow fire. If joke, I think it needs work, because this is really, seriously not funny.

    1. Dear Karen
      I don’t tink the author is ridiculing mental health but pointing out a couple of important things.
      1. For most of us every day is mental health day.
      2. There is a huuge amount of crud spouted at times like this. Everyone seems to have a product, drug, treatment, website, yoga position or clothing line to treat your ills.

      And on a personal note there is seldom a day goes by without someone inventing a new category of victimhood or disabling syndrome for folks to belong to or be crippled by. Perhaps it’s time we all realised that life is a fatal disease that hurts like crazy and ends in death but given the choice few of us would choose to be cured of it.

      1. I agree that everyone has something to sell, and they will try to sell it.

        I have a serious problem with attacks on “victimhood,” though. When a group of people notes that society has been rigged to hurt them for centuries, they are asking for our respect. Analyze their actual claim and address that claim; don’t jerk your right knee that Those People aren’t constantly grateful for the crumbs that we toss them occasionally.

    2. This author has actually blogged about how she really reccomends therapy and how people who are struggling really need to give themselves permission to seek treatment. She’s been very open about the fact that she’s in therapy and that she’s used anti-anxiety medications, and has challenged the (unfortunately common) narrative that good Catholics don’t need professional help for mental/emotional issues.

      I think it’s safe to say it’s not ridicule.

  2. Just a note on the sign photo at the top of the piece from a Northern Wyoming resident: Crazy Woman Creek was actually the local tribal name for that tributary to the Powder River. The local mythos is that it was named for an eccentric European-descended widow living along the creek.

  3. I really, really wanted the pot to work. Dang! The worst thing about it is that once it doesn’t, you are left without hope that it will. That’s what I admitted at a party a couple of weeks ago but they said: “oh nononononononono! You just need the uggabugga something something strain…or how about the mother’s milk mistletoe or goodvibes greentoes sistah variety”. I should’ve taken notes. They seemed so confident. But now I have hope again and I’ll try to work up my courage for another 20 years. Just no brownies. Ever. Again.

    We all agreed that brains should be at least fully formed, which is 26 for guys. Right?

    –Turns out I was chattin’ it up with a psychiatrist too–(not kidding) He admitted it to me after I gave him a full 15 minutes of advice on how to handle his salty fifteen y.o. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that the root of the problem is the hot Russian babe he replaced his kid’s Mom with.

    Cheers to mental health, and all the bearers of good vibes everywhere!

  4. I can’t think of anything to say except lobster, hatstand, biscuit barrel, ftang, billiard ball, jimmy carters vest.

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