It seems to me that having “The Funks” ought to be a proper medical diagnosis. Or at least in case of the Faulkner Family. “The Funks” was originally used to describe the awful and horrid smell that generated from my brother’s 1995 Honda Civic. No one really knows why Steven’s car was constantly plagued by the Funks, but I know that I spent many passenger seat rides wishing that doctor’s could find a cure. Looking back on Steve and mine’s high school days, I’m sure that increasing bathing and decreasing Taco Bell runs could have contributed.
This week I have found myself in a familiar “Funk.” And with the way I have been feeling, I wish it was of the smelling variety. But this “Funk” is the kind that knocks all the energy out of you. The kind that keeps you in bed until 1:00 in the afternoon despite being wide awake at 7 AM. I told myself that sad and sappy sagas had no place in my blog, but we are all humans, right? We’ve all had those days, right? Or those weeks, or those months. So maybe someone will read this and have that comforting “I am not alone” feeling – whether it relates to being down sometimes or smelling bad. But my goal with this post is not to cure other’s Funks (although I would certainly like to). This post is entirely selfish. I want to cure my own “Funks.” After all, how can you help others if you can’t help yourself?
So here it is, in my personal opinion, the best way to cure a case of “The Melissa Funks.”
1. Call dad.
- Thanks to him, I am genetically hardwired to get “The Funks.” My mother has often described us as Elliot and E.T. When one of us has a bad day, it is almost guaranteed that half-way across the country, the other is having the same bad day. So even though my dad may be biologically to blame for “The Funks,” he is also the leading expert in the cure for “The Melissa Funks.”
2. Go to three yoga classes in 24 hours.
- It’s kind of like giving your soul a “jump start.” My butt and my triceps feel like someone punched them repeatedly for nine hours, but my brain feels clean. That is the best way I can describe it. Clean.
3. Angry letters.
- A lot of people know how heavily I rely on writing to sort out my feelings. What can I say, I love words. I no doubt have taken a hiatus from this blog for the last month or so, which may be related to my “Melissa Funks.” But my desktop is filled with word documents – most of them titled Rant 1, Rant 2, etc… I have no intention of ever sending these letters, nor keeping them alive. In fact, I intend to delete them. I’d like to pull a quote from Anna Nalick’s song Breathe. “If I get it all down on paper, it’s no longer inside of me, threatening the life it belongs to.” I could not have written more perfect words. Gotta release some of that anger so I’m not longer a dangerous threat to society or myself. But I also have to delete that anger off my hard drive. Don’t want my computer’s life to be threatened either. Angry words have a way of affecting everything they touch.
- I really don’t think this requires any explanation. I really just love tacos.
5. Happy letters.
- I 100% believe that sometimes curing your own Funks requires you to help cure other people’s Funks. Its ironic, it doesn’t make sense, but it works. So I bought some pretty stationary, some pretty pens, and I wrote letters to people that I wanted to see smile. Giving joy to others tends to be a pretty solid way to give yourself joy, and that’s a cure worth remembering for all Funk cases, not just Melissa Funks. So much happiness to be spread around the world
6. Country music.
- You don’t find “Feel good! Love yourself! Be Strong!” anthems in any other genre of music. You just don’t. The literal lyrics in country music are what I love and hate most about it. But sometimes you just need to cut the cryptic rhyming crap and listen to a song that says, “It’s a great day to be alive.”
- Friends will always tell you it just takes time. This way of thinking doesn’t work for me. It gives “time” all the power. This kind of thinking it what justifies me laying in bed til the late hours of the afternoon. I just keep waiting for time to happen, for time to kick in, for time to snap something inside of me. Time can’t do anything. But I can do something.
There ya have it, 6 methods for curing a case of the “Melissa Funks.” Now, these methods may not work for the “Sue Funks” or the “George Funks” or the actual “Smelly Funks.” But these methods will no doubt work for me. So hey Melissa, read this every day. And hey, Friends! Tell me to read this every day. Oh and by the way, Friends? I love you. And thank you.
Note to self: contrary to popular belief, booze does absolutely nothing to cure Funks. In fact, it supports Funks. It increases Funk-ability. Alcohol is a depressant. Treat it as such. Stay away from it. Just don’t do it.