Recently, a friend to whom I had confided my interest in puns, decided to give me a book: The words of my life by Bernard Pivot. This column is therefore inspired by this book. But rather than dwell on the words, I chose instead, out of a spirit of contradiction, to look at the evils in my life. And God knows to what extent I took pains to compile the few evils that spoil my life.
No way to talk about the ailments that bother me physically such as toothache, headache or sea ache. No, these ailments are ailments that mean nothing. You swallow an aspirin or other such drugs and that’s it. The evils in question here affect my mental health, my morale, my psyche; hard pains that last. Fortunately the list is not too long.
The trip I intend to undertake soon, because it causes me a lot of worries, is symptomatic of the pain I feel. If traveling shapes youth, they give many wrinkles to my old age. Now, on to the pain.
Anguish and anxiety : Source of all my ills, of all my worries. To be anxious makes me anxious. Between the two my heart swings and I can’t choose which bothers me the most. I rush, I stress myself out. For example, the idea of missing the plane worries me. I have cold sweats. My heart throbs more than it should. To return to Canada and not know how to complete, before my return, the formArriveCan makes me anxious to the point of not wanting to leave. I don’t intend to burden myself with a computer and, moreover, stupid as I am, I don’t have a smart phone. I wonder how I’m going to get home. ArriveCan obviously didn’t think of me and anyone else in the same situation. Ah! Ladies and gentlemen bureaucrats, if I make it home safe and sound, I’ll send you my shrink’s note once my therapy sessions are over.
hypochondria : Nothing really new about that. I have suffered from it for years. For some reason this state hits me when I least expect it. My doctor knows my condition, I talk to him about it all the time: “I have a sore. I no longer sleep. I feel like no. How long do I have, doctor? “. She may reassure me, nothing helps. I am convinced that before undertaking anything I will fall ill, that all the microbes on earth have ganged up against me and want my destruction. Which brings me to tell you about another of my ailments.
Paranoia : If the plane is late or if the queue at the airport is too long I am convinced, I can already see it in their eyes, that people attribute the responsibility for this deplorable situation to me. Already, very young at school, I felt targeted when the teacher in history class asked us who had killed Henri IV. Filled with a feeling of guilt I hastened to reply that it was not me.
Agoraphobia : You will never see me attending a religious service, much less a sporting event. I have a horror of masses and masses. Any gathering beyond two people is a crowd to me. No wonder then that I never receive an invitation to dinner. On the plane, it promises. I should bring a parachute.
Acrophobia : Fortunately, I am small. One meter seventy to tell you the truth. Two centimeters more would make me dizzy. Already glancing at my feet my head is spinning. In order to avoid any accident at home, I do not have a stepladder or step. I can’t even walk on my tiptoes. To my great regret, for fear of being called unbalanced, it is almost impossible for me to reach the height of my ambitions.
Despite all my setbacks which fortunately do not lead me to drink, in a few words know that the evil of living is not one of my evils. I have other phobias such as clinophobia, coulrophobia, kathisophobia, but these phobias are so minor that I didn’t see fit to dwell particularly on them.
Of course, I told you all this in confidence. It remains between us. I count on you not to mention a word of my troubles.