Dear World: Please don't end. Love Lisa.

I'm doing it guys... I'm breaking a routine that I've set up and, I'm not going to lie, I feel a little sick.

I think the fact that I can do this at all is based solely on the fact that it is still a fairly new routine, but still, my head is light, I have a brown paper bag on standby for probably hyperventilation attacks and I'm ready to go...

In case you hadn't noticed already, the routine that I am breaking is my Wind Back Wednesday featurette. Yes, it is Wednesday, but I couldn't do it anymore. The pressure to find me something worthwhile to blog about from my past was causing me to get all these nasty rashes all over my body, and I was bugging too many people for anecdotes then either being faced with 1. Blank looks, 2. Blatant pretending that I didn't exist, or 3. A really fun memory but I couldn't remember enough about it to turn it into anything worthwhile so I just went ahead and rejected it, which then led to a world of guilt that I had forced people to focus on me, me, me and then just threw their kindness on agreeing to do such a thing to the gutter, effectively stomping on each of their friendships.

All in all, the feature had gone bad for me. It was turning into a very bitter and depressing thing and I thought, for the sake of my sanity, and for the sake of having something decent for you guys to read, I would become defeated and give it up.

So, from now on, I will no longer be devoting every Wednesday to a memory of mine. However, should one pop into my head and any given point, I will make sure to save it for a Wednesday to share it, thus keeping the feature sort of open and not making it completely redundant.

So with all that explained, you might be wondering why, when clearly I have just removed a stress from my life instead of adding one, I now need hyperventilation prevention tools and am feeling a little panicky. This is down to my OCDish nature of not being able to let go of anything. If I have a routine, I will damn well stick by it, otherwise the world might end and all that shizzle.

I have never been able to disprove this theory, because I have always religiously stuck by my routines, such as standing at the same point at my bus stop each morning, choosing the same carriage, eating the same even amount of food stuffs, walking the same journey and playing my phone games on the train in the same order. All of these things are highly important and my own small way of stopping any apocalypse from taking place, because everyone knows that I am clearly so important, a small action such as a change in my routine would knock Earth off its axis and send us all hurtling towards the abyss.

I think we can all see now why it is that I am incredibly nervous about this current change in my routine. I really don't want to be responsible for Earth Genocide, which is essentially what causing the end of the world is. I'm pretty certain being the cause of just one person's death would send me off the edge. The only two things I can rely on, should this horrific tragedy happen, are as follows:

1. If the world ends, I will presumably 'end' with it.
At least if everyone dies, I too will die, thus not really having much time to stew in the never ending guilt that would inevitably follow. Although, it would probably earn me, in my last moments, a one way ticket to hell... I don't want to think about how many rules in the Bible destroying the world would be breaking... unless I'm the anti-christ, then for some reason it's encouraged...

2. The sheer level of guilt associated with Earth Genocide would be too big for my brain to handle.
If, for some highly karmic and weird reason, I happened to not only kill the entire population of Earth with my actions, but also manage to be the only person to survive the tragedy, doomed to spend the rest of my days wandering the wasteland with nothing but my regrets, I'm pretty certain that the sheer level of the consequences in my actions would be too high for me to actually comprehend.

I mean, killing one or maybe even a couple dozen of people would be something I could get my head around afterwards. I could probably summon up the correct proportion of guilt to associate with that one. However, I reckon there must be a certain number of people where, after killing them, you must suddenly be no longer able to process it. I don't know what this number is, but I'm going to guess that it's anything in the double figures upwards. After you hit 10, I reckon the brain would just completely break down and not know how to send the correct amount of guilt signals to the rest of your body. Therefore, my walking around the wasteland of Earth, being the sole survivor would probably be a very confusing time, and I'm almost certain that my brain might even have given up completely and refuse to do anything other than tell my body to breathe and move.



These are all the things that cross my mind when I consider changing something in my routine... you can see why I have the brown paper bag now. It's not that I totally believe the end of the world is nigh, based on my actions, more that I'm queen of the "But what if?" question.

For example: I might have the following conversation with myself.

Me: The world won't end if I stop Wind Back Wednesdays
Self: But what if it did?
Me: That's ridiculous, why would it?
Self: Why wouldn't it?
Me: Because I'm not that important
Self: But what if you are?
Me: Because if I were, I think I'd know it by now.
Self: Would you though? Remember that time when that group of people were talking about you and it took you half an hour to realise?
Me: You make a fair point.
Self: What if people are keeping it a secret because they know that the pressure will probably cause you to freak out and thus be more likely to make a mistake.
Me: But without my knowing, I won't know that it's bad to change routine.
Self: Maybe they don't feel the need to share the information with you because they read your blog and already know that you're a neurotic mess which they are currently relying on and exploiting.
Me: I need to stop living safely. I need to start living dangerously. I'm going to do it, I'm going to stop Wind Back Wednesdays.
Self: Just how dangerously do you want to live? Ending the world is pretty extreme, even for you.
Me: We don't know that it will end the world!
Self: We don't not know!!

And then I start panicking and reaching for my brown paper bag... I also decide that maybe, just in case I am that important, I would write an entire post devoted to my reasons for the change, the fact that I have abandoned it completely, and that I really don't want the world to end so please... if someone is sitting next to a big red button, waiting for me to slip up, don't press it... I don't want you to. I WILL NOT BE RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS!!

...

Wow... It's been a long time since I've been this neurotic, hasn't it? I bet some of you even assumed I might have grown out of it and maybe gained some sanity? Yeeeaaaahhhh... sorry about that. The "that's just bizarre" button is available at the bottom of post. Click away.

Peace out my lovelies