The Doom Angel

 

I have a Doom Angel inside me. And there’s a Doom Angel inside you, too. You know EXACTLY what I’m talking about.

(BTW, how is that for a hot open? Makes you wanna read on, right?)

Kinda like what it looks like, but doom-ier IRL

Let me explain. I’ll build this bridge in two paragraphs, so we can get to all the humor and honesty you expect from me. We all have that “voice” inside us. Stay with me, this isn’t some “crazy” voice inside your head that tells you to eat bunnies or slay your annoying boss. Or is it?? This voice is also known by other terms; The Narrator, The Inner Roommate, id/ego/super ego or more commonly, it’s your self-talk. It took me years to realize this. It took me even longer to realize this ‘voice’ is generally destructive. The first book I read about this was the super heavy Untethered Soul. In that book there was an experiment to make you realize how negative this self-talk really is. As in a lot of meditation (stay with me, self-deprecating jokes are incoming, I promise), the experiment was to personify this self-talk. The idea was for 24 hours to pretend all this negative self-talk was a real person right next to you saying all this shit. I maybe lasted 40 minutes. (Dr. Theory also recommends you try this.)

No, I said DOOM Angel 

The point of personifying/labeling this is it becomes much easier to quiet down, deal with and move on. I’ve read a lot of “contrarian” self help books; books written mostly by normal people and generally have ‘shit’ or ‘fuck’ in the title. (Shout out to Mark Manson’s “The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck”, Sarah Knight’s No Fucks Given books, “Let That Shit Go” by Nina Purewal & Kate Petriw, “Move on Motherfucker (MOMF)” by Jodie Eckleberry-Hunt and Jen Sincero’s “You Are A Badass.” The KT Book Club meets every 2^nd Tuesday ya shits.) A lot of them argue for personifying this voice to better deal with it. For example, if I feel a sense of rage coming on, I find it easier to deal with by labelling it; then it becomes easier to let it go. IRL, if I feel that rage coming on, I can alternately say, “Oh, that’s rage just doing what it does. I see you, and you move on along.” Or, personify the feeling, “Oh, that’s just Donnie coming in, doing what he do. You can move along now.” Get the point?

Now to be fair, a lot of time that self-talk is actually wise and constructive. It can be inhibitive- that’s how we learn to not put our hand on a hot stove. Or it can tell you, “Yea, that hot guy across the bar is attractive, but that knife he’s holding with, what appears to be blood dripping from, is a bit of a red flag, queen. It’s always a shitshow at this Bennigan’s.”

(See, jokes now happening often!) You expect honesty from me, so here are some recent examples of my positive and wise self-talk:

You do not HAVE to eat the entire gallon of Rocky Road to feel better.

No, Sarah McLachlan did not write all those songs about you.

"GD it, Kev, for the fifth fucking time, NONE of these songs are about you!"

Starting an OnlyFans for my feet is probably not a smart idea.

Just stay the fuck off social media today.

I said put the spoon down, fatty! (OK, “fatty” hurt.)

Don’t forget to clear your browsing history, King.

You better HOPE no one is tracking your ChatGPT conversations.

Go get that extra rep.

Take that one more block with the doggos.

The above is the general, run of the mill positive self-talk. But then there’s deeper, darker self-talk. I can be perfectly fine, and like a light angel, it lands, says one stupid thing and I fucking spiral. The impending sense of doom, the worst case scenario. The Doom Angel is now upon me. The Doom Angel comes to stay and play. And it is. Not. Fun.

That fucker. Ya got what I’m sayin’ now?

It’s a 24/7 world. We’re constantly being bombarded with being better or more; make more money, be in better shape, eat better, sleep better, bigger house, faster car. There’s no “good” news anymore. I have a theory that both broadcast and social media are run by Doom Angels. Or assholes, hard to tell.

Even when I know better, the Doom Angel fucks with my head. For example, why is that friend I’m texting/calling not returning my texts/calls? The Doom Angel, “Because they don’t like you anymore, they don’t care, you fucked something up.” In reality, I know it’s because they are a grown ass human with responsibilities and concerns of their own. Life gets busy, we all know it. Stop making up stories, they’ll get back to me when they have the time. They’re probably off busy dealing with their own Doom Angel. Do these guys have some sort of union we’re not aware of?  It’s cool, I’m good. The Doom Angel, “….you sure?” Fffucckkkkk.

I’ve been unemployed since right before Thanksgiving. (Merry Xmas!) Let me tell you, with some “free time”, the Doom Angel packs a cooler and moves right it. And I can absolutely spiral down when almost half the country is seemingly OK with a convicted felon who is mentioned a gazillion times in the Epstein files can “lead the country.” Yet I can’t find a GD meaningful job where I can make a decent wage and also make an impact for good. (OK, only political reference.)  I can look at a job description and not even bloody know what half the acronyms stand for anymore. And some days, IDGAF. EABOD. The Doom Angel feasts on stuff like this. SOB. Not only am I it’s bitch, I am also it’s fucking chef.

And sleep; shit, most Doomies tend to work the night shift. Long time readers know I’ve had some relatively serious sleep issues over the years. Here’s what I’ve learned that works 98% of the time, gratitude. Don’t dwell on all the negative stuff that happened today, focus on all the positive. “Today, I’m happy I got to write a blog, take the dogs on a new trail, send out some meaningful resumes, bury that body that’s been stinking up the shed, talked to a friend, said something nice to someone important, didn’t grow a tail.” Be creative here, the Doomies can’t handle that. I also have a theory the Doom Angel is what makes me pee so damn much every night: I don’t even want to think about physical manifestations at this point.

“OK, so this is great and all, Kev” you’re thinking, “So what do we do here? How do we beat it?”

Well, you can start by telling the Doom Angel, "Don't you ever come around here.
"Don't wanna see your face, you better disappear" Be sure to say it with fire in your eyes and your words are really clear. (Tell me you get that reference.*) I’m not saying I have all the answers here, but this is what has worked for me. We’ve talked about personifying it. “Hey, Doom Angel, I know you’re doing your job, but fuck off, I don’t have time for your empty bullshit.” One of the best things to do is to occupy your mind so it doesn’t even have a chance. Play a video game. Read a good book to fill your head. I highly recommend pretty much anything by Freida McFadden for something full of twists. (No, we’re not, but it is good at some level to see a McFadden be a successful writer) Read meaningful blogs…hahem. Movies and TV shows can work, but let’s not forget being more physical. Working out, going for a walk (with some dogs), creating your own art, spending time with the people who restore you. If you’re being good to yourself, the Doom Angel has no chance.

I have a feeling, now that I’ve openly talked about my dickhead Doom Angel, it will be visiting less. Looking forward to a good night’s sleep. I hope so for you, too.

 

Patreon extras:

To get in the mood with a title like Doom Angel, I tried to find some moody Gothic music to write to but was unsuccessful. You’d think that it would be easier to find. So, I settled for the Cocteau Twins station. Close enough.

As far as the term ‘Doom Angel,’ it is also commonly referred to as the hamster wheel. But that is not as cool and would make for a HORRIBLE open. “I have a hamster inside me. You do, too.” NOPE, no one is reading anything after that. Gross.

There is no immediate GIS for Doom Angel, the first possibility is 6 rows down. I feel like I should win some sort of internet prize.

The joke with the * is most of the opening lyric to “Beat It” but I’m sure most of you got that one.

Ironically enough, Sarah does a song with Blue Rodeo named Dark Angel. That is also not about me. Allegedly.