Sometimes I wish that I could just get onto my knees, bend over the toilet, and vomit up everything that’s wrong with me. Just sit there for however long it takes and throw up my fears and anxieties, my medical maladies, my irrationalities and imperfections. I wouldn’t care if it took hours. I wouldn’t care if it took days or even weeks. I’d stay keeled over that toilet and keep spitting up more and more until it was all out of my system and stewing in the bowl, and then I’d flush it all away. I’d finally be free of all the burdens that I carry with me everywhere.
I’d finally be normal.
