Everyone gets stressed out from time to time. Whether you’re having a bad day at home, or something isn’t going your way at work, anxiety is simply unavoidable. At times it can even feel overwhelming. But it’s important to remember that many of your worries are unfounded, and that the best course of action is often just throwing up your hands and letting it slide—because there’s absolutely no use sweating the things the parasitic alien lifeform that’s latched onto your brainstem can’t control.
Sure, you can get worked up about project deadlines, traffic, even the weather—but if it’s beyond the scope of what the slug-shaped alien parasite that burrowed inside your brain via your ear canal has any effect over, then what’s the point? Some things the powerful extraterrestrial organism can control, some things it can’t; the key is to recognize the difference.
The fact is, endless worrying about what you said in a meeting or a past social faux pas will gnaw at you. Becoming a nervous wreck over such small things doesn’t help anyone—not you, not the alien lifeform that impels all of your actions, not your family, no one.
Instead, focus on what the growing creature in your brain can influence, like your motor functions, your desires, and the vital minerals you must seek at prescribed intervals to sustain it. Don’t pull your hair out stressing about getting older, or whether you’ll be approved for that mortgage—the alien that’s pulsing inside your brain even now can’t make that stuff go away. Remember, you can’t change the outcome of these things any more than you can change the fact that that comet crashed into the earth 10 years ago and cast an army of alien spores into the water supply.
Just take things one day at a time, because at the end of the day, the alien’s there, but it’s not Superman, and it can’t just make all your troubles disappear. It has full control of your central nervous system, and it’s just trying the best it can.
I know that letting go of your concerns isn’t easy. Believe me, just this morning, I spent the better part of an hour stressing over a missed conference call with a West Coast client. My assistant got the time wrong, and we rescheduled, but I still worried about it all morning—until I remembered to take a deep breath and remind myself that the gelatinous, hyper-intelligent creature wrapped tightly around my thalamus and optic nerve couldn’t have foreseen this, and it can’t change how my client feels about it.
Its plans are far greater than that.
When you’re feeling stressed out, remind yourself that everyone’s in the same boat. Your boss, your colleagues, your spouse—they all have issues with their parents, they’re all dealing with interpersonal conflicts at work, they all have a three-inch, olive-brown creature in their brain that’s extending its piercing tendrils deeper into their cerebellum every day, rendering them hypersensitive to light and turning them against their loved ones. The next time you’re frustrated with a coworker, just remember that he’s got a parasitic alien lifeform feeding on his brain matter, too. Just think, he might be cranky because he spent the better part of last night foraging for the quartz he’s compelled to grind into dust and rub into his skin, fortifying the life-sucking organism—so cut him a little slack.
Life is short, and you can’t fritter away your precious time stressing about things the constantly oozing parasite will never be able to change—promotions you didn’t get, investments you passed up, loves that were lost so many years ago. Doubts and anxieties will sap your energy and drain your will to live faster than the aggressive alien creature that’s suckling your body’s nutrients from your cerebral fluid against your will, so just let them fall by the wayside.
The fact is, you have good days when the alien’s using your brain as a yolk sac to nourish its gestation, you have bad days when the alien’s using your brain as a yolk sac to nourish its gestation. All you can do is just stay positive and take care of only those things you are able to. Just keep your head down and follow the creature’s bidding until it crawls out of your throat for good, rendering you a desiccated, lifeless husk.
That’s all any of us can do.
