An excerpt from the Queen of the Ravens personal Dictionary:
1. the complete inability for coherent thoughts due to an overflowing emotional state that is uncharacteristic of one’s normal personality. Most common symptom is a temporary lack of all sense and if left untreated can lead to large sticks up the butt. (See Imagination Constipation.)
2. Someone who is so wrapped in themselves that every little thing that happens to them is a catastrophe. This individual is incapable of normal human interactions without extreme acts of emotional distress that have zero merit.
1. the lack of creative thought processes; being stuck in a “cookie cutter” mindset of conformity; having a large stick up one’s butt; those inflicted with this have no discernable sense of humor; leading cause of ultimate lameness
2. These individuals only derive pleasure from making everyone around them as miserable as they are until all sanity is lost
I try very hard not to judge others too harshly. After all, you never know what is currently going on in their lives. However, there are some people who always have something going on that has upset the delicate balance of their limited worlds. There are still others that cannot see past their tiny brains long enough to imagine a bigger picture. We have all dealt with these sorts. Time passes slowly in their presence. If left long enough alone with them, you start picturing wrapping all ten of your digits around their throat and squeezing until the light dies in their eyes. Ok, maybe I am being a tad melodramatic. Can you blame me? After enough time even the most placid of birds get their feathers ruffled.
Since strangulation is frowned upon by civilized society, I may have to fly over their car right after they wash it and do my daily constitutional all over its glistening surface. Don’t tell the Queen of the Ravens. She will be most displeased to hear me speak like this. Oh, you thought this was her? She is a queen, you silly pigeon. I am a humble song bird. Alright, maybe not humble. I do tend to squawk when those young hatchlings get on my limb. They have no respect for other people’s property. Anyway, if we are going to do this, we might as well do it right. Let’s start with the emotional diarrhea individuals as they are unable to hold it any longer.
We all find ourselves overloaded with emotions sometimes. When the pressure builds and we have not been able to vent it out properly, it will force itself out while wearing ice cream rocket shoes and a cape bedazzled with chocolate chips and tissues. In other words, emotional diarrhea time. Just like its intestinal distressed counterpart, emotional diarrhea is something that can render you useless until it has run its course. Instead of your bowels cramping, making you wish that someone would put you out of your misery before you die, your brain does this instead. I hear ice cream rocket shoes cause wicked brain freezes.
Life is stressful at the best of times. A little emotional diarrhea never hurt anyone. When you have it all of the time, then it is a problem. You cannot spend your entire life in a constant state of upheaval. You will not only be miserable, but others around you will be as well. This is because no matter how much you care about a person; you cannot rescue them from emotional crisis all of the time. It is not humanly possible to carry the weight of every loved one on your shoulders plus the responsibility of their emotional health without breaking your spirit. It does not mean that you care any less. It also does not mean that their problems are any less significant.
Emotional diarrhea becomes a problem when it never goes away, in other words, the Drama Queens of the world. In order for you to get a better idea of why this is an issue, I will give you a couple of real life scenarios of people taking this term to whole new levels. Each one could have avoided ninety percent of the turmoil in their lives if they had not caused it to start with.
The middle aged peacock worked at the local gas station. Every time you turned around, she was either calling out of work or horribly late. Her excuses ranged all over the board. When she was there, you thought she was dying. Every freckle was surely cancer. Every head ache was a tumor. She never had enough money to pay her bills. It was the end of the world for her. Now she might have been able to pay them if she had shown up to work more often. She might have been able to pay them if she stopped spending her paychecks down at the local bar. She might have been able to pay them if she stopped running to the doctor for every little thing. The lady had a major case of emotional diarrhea. I tried to sympathize with her plight but it was not possible after I heard her latest excuse why she could not come into work one day. She had sprung her armpit.
You read that correctly. I wish that I could say that I am making this up, but sadly, I am not. Do not ask me how she could possibly do this but she did, supposedly. Unfortunately for her, several people saw her at the bar that night and she seemed just fine as she gyrated around the dance floor, armpits included. I would love to tell you that this was the last excuse she made for not working but slowly, they just got more and more outrageous over time.
Help! I’ve fallen and I can’t get up
I don’t know where to start with this one. Let me see. One time, I saw a tree limb land fifteen feet away from this person. She promptly fell to the ground and started screaming how she was hurt by the branch. The next time, she tripped over her own feet and thought for sure that she had broken her ankle. I have to stress that it was a small stumble and that she did not even fall and barely missed a step in her stride.
Normally, these antics might be comical. You would think she was doing all of this for laughs. Oh how I wish this was true. I’m not the most graceful of creatures. I have been known to trip over flat surfaces. If there is a piece of furniture in your nest, I will bang my toes on it so I understand the dynamics of the utterly awkward. This pigeon was not like this. Every time you turned around, she was on the floor and thought the absolute worst. The wind could blow gently and there she was again, flat on her back in terrible pain.
I have to list this chic as a sufferer of emotional diarrhea because of the spectacle she made of herself all of the time. I want you to picture the most over the top individual that you have ever come across. Next picture dropping to the floor at the drop of a hat thinking they are dying. The dog farted? Let me drop to the ground and die from the stench. Did that chic really wear those polka-dotted shoes with that stripped dress? Oh heavens, mercy me! It is an absolute emergency.
Those that suffer from continual emotional diarrhea run the risk of getting a far worse condition, imagination constipation. Like I said previously, after a while it becomes difficult for those around the constant demands of one afflicted with emotional diarrhea. If the case is severe enough, they may find themselves alone, thus they become jaded. Once this happens all of the prior behavior not only intensifies, but the individual is now nearly impossible to tolerate. I would love to give you tons of examples but honestly, that would suck all of the joy and happiness out of life. That is not the approved type of suck that is allowed here so you will just have to use your imaginations. Besides, it is way too difficult to top the sprung armpit.
I’m sure there is a proper cure for both afflictions. I personally just push them off my branch and go back to my nest. Alright, I might cackle madly afterwards. Ah, who am I kidding? I laugh like a loon. They are so surprised that they forget they have wings. It is a riot. Oh don’t give me that look. When you get to be my age, you get your kicks when you can. Speaking of which….GET OFF MY BRANCH!