Kill Howard

This may come as a surprise for many of you and none of you, but I have named my giant thatch of chest hair.

I call him--yes, him!--Bruce.

No, seriously. I'm not joking here.

Bruce has become such an ingrained part of my persona, that many of my friends ask me to let the big guy himself out to play, breathe. And I happily oblige, unbuttoning and unleashing the shear masculine charms of Le Brucey baby.

And let me tell you...he's the life of the party.

Make no mistake: He's always been there (well, at least for the last 15 years or so), but recently, my friends and I decided to initiate him as a full-time member of our little circle of friends.

So, yeah, Bruce. He's the man.

Tonight, though, with the help of one of the best friends a crazy dude like myself could ever ask for, I came up with a name for another part of me.

We put a name to my mortal enemy, the demon inside me that constantly makes me second-guess myself, worry to the point of exhaustion, incapacity and, eventually, quite possibly, if I let it have its way...death.

Its name is Howard.

Howard has been around far longer than Bruce. In fact, I would say Howard has been around since about the time I turned seven, when everything changed.

Here's the thing. Do I think it's okay to worry about things? Of course! It's only natural to wonder or even fear what the unknown has in store for us, what's going to happen. Hell, there are some things that people should be worried about (um, the price of gas anyone? Hello?!)

Howard, on the other hand, is that constant voice in my head that causes me to go fucking bat shit over the tiniest things. He's my voice of self-doubt, my fear of being forgotten, that I'll say or do the wrong thing, that I'll never find love, that I'll get sick, that I'll die a homeless man, that I'll die young, that I'll break my parents' hearts, that I'll hurt the ones that I love, that I'll hurt myself, that my cat will die because of me, that I won't be able to succeed in any way...

That is, until I wash my hands. Or something silly like that.

Yeah, it's an extreme example, but nevertheless, it is an example of the worries that I constantly struggle with, the fear that is always there. It's Howard in all of his seemingly infinite power.

Well, I am here to tell you, today, that I am done. I am alive. I am fine. The World is Not Ending.

So, no more mini heart attacks. No more sweating. No more paralysis.

No more, Howard.

I am not a violent man by nature (well, okay...maybe I'm a little violent...but only at heart and in mind), but here and now, let me make my intentions crystal clear...over the course of the rest of this year, I am going to reclaim my life.

And when I arrive at my destination...

I am gonna kill Howard.