GEMINI
[May 21–June 20]
Adam and Eve were banished from the Garden of Eden because of an incident involving an apple, right? Wrong. Many Biblical scholars suspect the fruit in question was either a fig, grape, or pomegranate. I mention this, Gemini, because I think you'd be wise to review your own personal myth of exile. It's time to question the story you have been telling yourself about how your paradise got lost. Evidence you discover in the coming days just might suggest that everything you've believed is at least half-wrong—that your origins are different from what you imagine. And as for the forbidden fruit that supposedly led you astray: You may realize that it was actually a precious medicine.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Why I love Invite Health
Listen, I have to have my vitamins. I cannot live without them, and I fear my reliance on them is far more psychogical than physical. It makes me feel infinitely better to know that my delicate cells are being flushed with high grade omegas and fortified with all manners of aminos. I. Have. To. Supplement. It pleases me. And not for nothing, I've gotten through some of my more harrowing physical moments (detox, post-partum depression, liver cleansing) with the help of pharmaceutical grade nutrients.
So, much like an addict with a heroin habit to support, it is crucial that I maintain a relationship with a supplier (dealer). Invite Health has the hookup as far as I'm concerned.
I almost (but not quite) feel a little guilty forging the comparison with drug addiction and vitamin popping. Invite is trying to do something good for mankind, and they should be commended for it. Nowhere near enough money is spent researching naturopathic rememdies to serious ailments. Invite has a thoughtful, deliberate approach to supplementation. They have supplemental solutions for a host of ailments that tend to baffle traditional medicine. They have licensed nutritionists working at the stores and if you ask for a nutritional consultation, you will get a nutritional consultation!
Such was the case with me, when I sprinted in Invite this morning between meetings. I had been out of Sam-e for four days (remember when I discovered Sam-E) and was rewarded with a mild depressive episode last night for my troubles. My moods have been a bit more erratic of late, because I've totally surrendered to my sugar addiction and we all know what happens when I do that. I've been trying, desperately trying, to kick the white stuff, but the harder I try the worse it gets. So I thought I'd throw that out to the Invite Universe while shopping for my regulars.
"Excuse me? Does this Carb HX support you nutritionally while you transition to a low carb diet or is it a carb-blocker?"
"It's a carb-blocker."
"Ahh, I see. Ok. Hmmmm. Do you have anything that helps you transition to a low carb diet?"
He looked at me knowingly and while never once breaking eye contact asked me, "Is it the Sugar Cravings?"
JESUS H!!!! How does he know?!?!?!?
All kidding aside, I dove right in and told him everything. I mean, all of it. The Quitting Drinking, The Quitting Smoking, the Dietary Obsessions, The Over Exercising, The Depression, the whole damn shebang.
I told him my goal was to cut out all simple sugars and non-complex carbohydrates for the next 30 days and he prescribed a nutritional attack to combat: blues, sugar cravings, lowered energy levels, and blood sugar swings.
For the next month I am taking:
Sam-E (Always, it's a miracle amino)
5-HTP
Fish Oil (Mega, mega fish oils which make the inside of my nose smell like tuna, but whatevs)
GlucoHx (Chromium, Alpha Lipoic Acid, Vanadium, Gymnema, Bitter Melon, and Fenugreek)
It'll take some time before I see whether or not this is working, but so far so good. It is now 4:10 and historically, this is exactly the time when I would be succumbing to my pre-dinner crash and stuffing my face with peanut m&m's to try and boost up my flagging energy levels. I'm fine. I'm not salivating and suffering with mental fantasties of a chocolate bender, I'm quite alright.
So we'll see. I'll keep you updated. I know I'm always maniacally googling any new vitamin I think will correct my woes, so all anecdotal information is good. Having said that, I am not a damn doctor, so please don't think I'm offering medical advice. Especially if you're on depression meds. Heartbreaking and tragic things happen when people stop taking mind meds w/o medical supervision. Don't even think about it.
But I digress, if all goes according to plan (hahahaha * snicker * lol. I plan, God laughs) by the end of this month I should be sugar free and living the sweet life! I've been round this bend enough times to know, that if I can make it through the first 30 days, I'm golden. My blood sugar stabilizes after that, cravings turn towards healthy stuff, and my abs come out of hiding. But if I fold in the first 30 days, only God knows when I'll be able to get another sugar free day again. It's that freaking bad folks. I literally have to count days off The White Devil. I cannot have so much as a teaspoon without throwing myself headfirst into the sugar cyclone.
Go to Invite! Get hooked up! Check them out and stay tuned for further developments....
xoxoxo
Ingenue
So, much like an addict with a heroin habit to support, it is crucial that I maintain a relationship with a supplier (dealer). Invite Health has the hookup as far as I'm concerned.
I almost (but not quite) feel a little guilty forging the comparison with drug addiction and vitamin popping. Invite is trying to do something good for mankind, and they should be commended for it. Nowhere near enough money is spent researching naturopathic rememdies to serious ailments. Invite has a thoughtful, deliberate approach to supplementation. They have supplemental solutions for a host of ailments that tend to baffle traditional medicine. They have licensed nutritionists working at the stores and if you ask for a nutritional consultation, you will get a nutritional consultation!
Such was the case with me, when I sprinted in Invite this morning between meetings. I had been out of Sam-e for four days (remember when I discovered Sam-E) and was rewarded with a mild depressive episode last night for my troubles. My moods have been a bit more erratic of late, because I've totally surrendered to my sugar addiction and we all know what happens when I do that. I've been trying, desperately trying, to kick the white stuff, but the harder I try the worse it gets. So I thought I'd throw that out to the Invite Universe while shopping for my regulars.
"Excuse me? Does this Carb HX support you nutritionally while you transition to a low carb diet or is it a carb-blocker?"
"It's a carb-blocker."
"Ahh, I see. Ok. Hmmmm. Do you have anything that helps you transition to a low carb diet?"
He looked at me knowingly and while never once breaking eye contact asked me, "Is it the Sugar Cravings?"
JESUS H!!!! How does he know?!?!?!?
All kidding aside, I dove right in and told him everything. I mean, all of it. The Quitting Drinking, The Quitting Smoking, the Dietary Obsessions, The Over Exercising, The Depression, the whole damn shebang.
I told him my goal was to cut out all simple sugars and non-complex carbohydrates for the next 30 days and he prescribed a nutritional attack to combat: blues, sugar cravings, lowered energy levels, and blood sugar swings.
For the next month I am taking:
Sam-E (Always, it's a miracle amino)
5-HTP
Fish Oil (Mega, mega fish oils which make the inside of my nose smell like tuna, but whatevs)
GlucoHx (Chromium, Alpha Lipoic Acid, Vanadium, Gymnema, Bitter Melon, and Fenugreek)
It'll take some time before I see whether or not this is working, but so far so good. It is now 4:10 and historically, this is exactly the time when I would be succumbing to my pre-dinner crash and stuffing my face with peanut m&m's to try and boost up my flagging energy levels. I'm fine. I'm not salivating and suffering with mental fantasties of a chocolate bender, I'm quite alright.
So we'll see. I'll keep you updated. I know I'm always maniacally googling any new vitamin I think will correct my woes, so all anecdotal information is good. Having said that, I am not a damn doctor, so please don't think I'm offering medical advice. Especially if you're on depression meds. Heartbreaking and tragic things happen when people stop taking mind meds w/o medical supervision. Don't even think about it.
But I digress, if all goes according to plan (hahahaha * snicker * lol. I plan, God laughs) by the end of this month I should be sugar free and living the sweet life! I've been round this bend enough times to know, that if I can make it through the first 30 days, I'm golden. My blood sugar stabilizes after that, cravings turn towards healthy stuff, and my abs come out of hiding. But if I fold in the first 30 days, only God knows when I'll be able to get another sugar free day again. It's that freaking bad folks. I literally have to count days off The White Devil. I cannot have so much as a teaspoon without throwing myself headfirst into the sugar cyclone.
Go to Invite! Get hooked up! Check them out and stay tuned for further developments....
xoxoxo
Ingenue
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Holy Service Batman!
My life is all alcoholics all the time these days. I don’t know where it came from, it’s certainly wasn’t my intention, but here we are. I learned how to work the program, the program worked me over, and now I have something to offer the sick and tired who are sick and tired of being SICK AND TIRED.
Those who can must, peeps. It’s a fundamental truth of our way of life, my primary purpose is and will forever more be to help another alcoholic. That’s it. Anything else I add in there re: diet, boys, outfits, occupations, and hair color is really just my will manifesting itself in the only way it knows how. It still comes right back around to; what did you do for the other guy today? Who did you help? Did you sacrifice your own creature comforts for the well-being of the next woman?
I’ve always wanted to be of service to my fellow alcoholics. I’m moved deeply whenever I hear someone announce their day count. I love Newcomer women! But for the longest I was balls out terrified to open my mouth around them, because I thought I would scare them right off. When I was still counting days, I was relatively happy. I stopped drinking and my life got immeasurably better in those first months. But from four months until very recently, I failed to enlarge my spiritual condition and my untreated alcoholism ran circles around my attempts to control my disease.
I was a surly, screaming bitch from month 4 to 14 and I had no idea why.
I tried to do some step-work, but it really didn’t have any affect because I wasn’t completely surrendered. I thought I was, but thinking can be incredibly misleading when it comes to the nature of alcoholism.
Long story short, I was given the gift of desperation AGAIN, I started my steps in earnest, and I really went after my recovery with everything I had in me. And I got better! I got glowy and happy, social and bubbly. The more I stepped, the more people started responding favorably to me and before I knew it I had new-comer girls asking how I’d stayed sober for almost two years.
I was baffled when this first happened. I’m so used to thinking of myself as a miserable excuse for sobriety that seeing some gorgeous little drunk come up to me with admiration in her eyes, was more than I could handle. I freaked out, said something weird and abrupt, and ran away. Progress not perfection, right?
I wasn’t settled into the changes that I had undergone. I didn’t trust that I could interact normally with people now that I had my spiritual experience. I was still defensive and locked up, waiting for hostile comebacks to come vomiting out of my mouth. Or for the volume of my voice to raise uncontrollably, and for people to starts slowly backing away from me. I’ve had 29 years of seeing people shy away from me, it’s normal and natural that I would still be expecting these things. But it’s no longer necessary, and slowly I started sticking around to answer the newcomer questions that were leveled at me.
And my answers are always the same.
“Ohmygod, you HAVE to do your steps. It’s like Magic….you have to try this shit!”
“Did you start your steps, yet? That’s fantastic, I’m so excited for you! You should call me, I want to hear all about it.”
And I mean every word of it. Every word of it is what was given to me when my sponsor read the Big Book with me. That’s what saved my life. Shit, that’s what gave me a life worth living! Steps, steps, and more steps. Service, service, and more service. These two things bring me incalculable amounts of joy, and I can’t stop shouting it from the rooftops.
So now, Alcoholics are popping up EVERYWHERE. There’s two in my office that are in constant need of support. One of them suffered my foolishness when I was first getting sober, and now he’s newly sober so I can repay the kindness.
God, you work in such mysterious freaking ways. I totally respect your Gangsta.
Ingenue
P.S. Stepwork brings the sexy back.
Those who can must, peeps. It’s a fundamental truth of our way of life, my primary purpose is and will forever more be to help another alcoholic. That’s it. Anything else I add in there re: diet, boys, outfits, occupations, and hair color is really just my will manifesting itself in the only way it knows how. It still comes right back around to; what did you do for the other guy today? Who did you help? Did you sacrifice your own creature comforts for the well-being of the next woman?
I’ve always wanted to be of service to my fellow alcoholics. I’m moved deeply whenever I hear someone announce their day count. I love Newcomer women! But for the longest I was balls out terrified to open my mouth around them, because I thought I would scare them right off. When I was still counting days, I was relatively happy. I stopped drinking and my life got immeasurably better in those first months. But from four months until very recently, I failed to enlarge my spiritual condition and my untreated alcoholism ran circles around my attempts to control my disease.
I was a surly, screaming bitch from month 4 to 14 and I had no idea why.
I tried to do some step-work, but it really didn’t have any affect because I wasn’t completely surrendered. I thought I was, but thinking can be incredibly misleading when it comes to the nature of alcoholism.
Long story short, I was given the gift of desperation AGAIN, I started my steps in earnest, and I really went after my recovery with everything I had in me. And I got better! I got glowy and happy, social and bubbly. The more I stepped, the more people started responding favorably to me and before I knew it I had new-comer girls asking how I’d stayed sober for almost two years.
I was baffled when this first happened. I’m so used to thinking of myself as a miserable excuse for sobriety that seeing some gorgeous little drunk come up to me with admiration in her eyes, was more than I could handle. I freaked out, said something weird and abrupt, and ran away. Progress not perfection, right?
I wasn’t settled into the changes that I had undergone. I didn’t trust that I could interact normally with people now that I had my spiritual experience. I was still defensive and locked up, waiting for hostile comebacks to come vomiting out of my mouth. Or for the volume of my voice to raise uncontrollably, and for people to starts slowly backing away from me. I’ve had 29 years of seeing people shy away from me, it’s normal and natural that I would still be expecting these things. But it’s no longer necessary, and slowly I started sticking around to answer the newcomer questions that were leveled at me.
And my answers are always the same.
“Ohmygod, you HAVE to do your steps. It’s like Magic….you have to try this shit!”
“Did you start your steps, yet? That’s fantastic, I’m so excited for you! You should call me, I want to hear all about it.”
And I mean every word of it. Every word of it is what was given to me when my sponsor read the Big Book with me. That’s what saved my life. Shit, that’s what gave me a life worth living! Steps, steps, and more steps. Service, service, and more service. These two things bring me incalculable amounts of joy, and I can’t stop shouting it from the rooftops.
So now, Alcoholics are popping up EVERYWHERE. There’s two in my office that are in constant need of support. One of them suffered my foolishness when I was first getting sober, and now he’s newly sober so I can repay the kindness.
God, you work in such mysterious freaking ways. I totally respect your Gangsta.
Ingenue
P.S. Stepwork brings the sexy back.
Dr. Jekkyl and Ms. Hyde? Your table for two is waiting...
It’s so funny to be getting a look at the Jekyl and Hyde nature of Alcoholic Ingenue and Recovered Ingenue.
Untreated Alcoholic Ingenue:
Walks a mile a minute with her shoulders squared and her jaw set. Shouts when she means to whisper, fumes and blames EVERYTHING on EVERYONE. She’s usually wearing way too much eye makeup (her favorite avoidance therapy is fixing up the externals when the internals are gnarly) and two pushup bras (because one is never enough when you’re sick and suffering) to try and fake cleavage that God did not intend to be there. She flirts with married men and then gets outraged when they say inappropriate things to her. She spends her entire work day trying too look busy and important at the expense of actually doing her job. Don’t even think about asking how her day went, she’ll tell you all about it. And it ain’t ever pretty.
Recovered Ingenue:
Still wakes up feeling a mild case of the Fuck Its, but drops to her knees first thing and gets in conscious contact with her creator. After that she bounds around like a golden retriever, just happy to be up and about and moving. Hair and makeup are whatever she has time for, she prefers to spend her “getting ready” time on spiritual and physical fitness. No matter. Whatever she looks like on the outside, she feels totally gorgeous so she’s free to wear whatever the fuck she pleases, male attention be damned.
Work is spent in service to the world at large. When she has a question she asks it humbly, even if it makes her look unknowledgeable. She works through problems as they arise, instead of putting them off for another day. She answers phone calls and emails. She takes responsibility for her mistakes and works arduously at correcting them.
She DOES NOT BLAME THE QUALITY OF HER LIFE ON ANYONE ELSE.
She sounds like a bit of a surfer girl when she speaks, and she doesn’t care what anyone thinks about that because authenticity is fucking priceless, dude.
She smiles and hugs, listens, and laughs.
With all of this evidence, you would think I’d have absolutely no reservations about strenuously working my program and chasing after my steps. And yet.
Every now and then we all need a refill on the willingness. I can’t ever forget what I become when I fail to enlarge and maintain my spiritual condition.
xoxoxo,
Ingenue
Untreated Alcoholic Ingenue:
Walks a mile a minute with her shoulders squared and her jaw set. Shouts when she means to whisper, fumes and blames EVERYTHING on EVERYONE. She’s usually wearing way too much eye makeup (her favorite avoidance therapy is fixing up the externals when the internals are gnarly) and two pushup bras (because one is never enough when you’re sick and suffering) to try and fake cleavage that God did not intend to be there. She flirts with married men and then gets outraged when they say inappropriate things to her. She spends her entire work day trying too look busy and important at the expense of actually doing her job. Don’t even think about asking how her day went, she’ll tell you all about it. And it ain’t ever pretty.
Recovered Ingenue:
Still wakes up feeling a mild case of the Fuck Its, but drops to her knees first thing and gets in conscious contact with her creator. After that she bounds around like a golden retriever, just happy to be up and about and moving. Hair and makeup are whatever she has time for, she prefers to spend her “getting ready” time on spiritual and physical fitness. No matter. Whatever she looks like on the outside, she feels totally gorgeous so she’s free to wear whatever the fuck she pleases, male attention be damned.
Work is spent in service to the world at large. When she has a question she asks it humbly, even if it makes her look unknowledgeable. She works through problems as they arise, instead of putting them off for another day. She answers phone calls and emails. She takes responsibility for her mistakes and works arduously at correcting them.
She DOES NOT BLAME THE QUALITY OF HER LIFE ON ANYONE ELSE.
She sounds like a bit of a surfer girl when she speaks, and she doesn’t care what anyone thinks about that because authenticity is fucking priceless, dude.
She smiles and hugs, listens, and laughs.
With all of this evidence, you would think I’d have absolutely no reservations about strenuously working my program and chasing after my steps. And yet.
Every now and then we all need a refill on the willingness. I can’t ever forget what I become when I fail to enlarge and maintain my spiritual condition.
xoxoxo,
Ingenue
Friday, June 19, 2009
God help me.
Damn, dude. It happened again. I vacated my blogging for no good reason and here I come, crawling back in abject humility.
Yeesh, that's a bit dark isn't it? I didn't mean it to be, but it stays. Maybe that's my true inner state right now. Maybe that's what I'm trying to supress. Maybe I'm trying to hide from the fact that even though I've been step-working like my ass is on fire, my life still seems a bit.....awful. Don't get me wrong, it has it's moments! All in all though, I have to say I am not impressed.
And this is my own doing, really. I am back living with roommates, AGAIN, and again all hell is breaking loose. It's nowhere near as vicious this time, and it's not affecting me as deeply, but it is affecting me. I react, I pre-act, I fix, I solve, I pray, and everytime I think I've come to the bottom of this shit, it comes back.
Having said that, I am deeply, deeply responsible for the hurt feeling of my roommates. This time, there is no doubt in my head that I am the problem. I left the apartment for months in a state of mild disaster, I'm construction style confrontational whenever they try and approach me about it, and lately I've been pulling off this Mean Girls style sneer whenever they come within a five foot radius of me.
I'm in fullbown attack mode and I cannot make it stop.
My adversaries? A 60 year old buddhist nun and a 5 foot 2 codepenent trainer who flinches whenever someone sneezes too loud.
What the hell is the matter with me? Honestly, the buddhist nun is a bit of a nightmare, but I know why or how she's stirring up this level of character defectiveness. I cannot seem to extricate myself from the downward spiral where she pulls me aside in the morning to explain to me that I'm angry and confrontational and I respond by becoming angry and confrotational.
It's no good, the emotional hangovers are BRUTAL and I did not vacate my last hostile living situation to move into another one. Clearly, G.O.D has a lesson for me that I failed to learn the first time around, so we're going for it again.
G.O.D-
Please, for the love of all that is Holy and True, show me what it is you want me to learn in this situation so I can do the damn thing and get on with my life. And please, again for the love of all that is Holy and True, make it obvious.
Can I get a witness? Whoop whoop!
Ingenue
Yeesh, that's a bit dark isn't it? I didn't mean it to be, but it stays. Maybe that's my true inner state right now. Maybe that's what I'm trying to supress. Maybe I'm trying to hide from the fact that even though I've been step-working like my ass is on fire, my life still seems a bit.....awful. Don't get me wrong, it has it's moments! All in all though, I have to say I am not impressed.
And this is my own doing, really. I am back living with roommates, AGAIN, and again all hell is breaking loose. It's nowhere near as vicious this time, and it's not affecting me as deeply, but it is affecting me. I react, I pre-act, I fix, I solve, I pray, and everytime I think I've come to the bottom of this shit, it comes back.
Having said that, I am deeply, deeply responsible for the hurt feeling of my roommates. This time, there is no doubt in my head that I am the problem. I left the apartment for months in a state of mild disaster, I'm construction style confrontational whenever they try and approach me about it, and lately I've been pulling off this Mean Girls style sneer whenever they come within a five foot radius of me.
I'm in fullbown attack mode and I cannot make it stop.
My adversaries? A 60 year old buddhist nun and a 5 foot 2 codepenent trainer who flinches whenever someone sneezes too loud.
What the hell is the matter with me? Honestly, the buddhist nun is a bit of a nightmare, but I know why or how she's stirring up this level of character defectiveness. I cannot seem to extricate myself from the downward spiral where she pulls me aside in the morning to explain to me that I'm angry and confrontational and I respond by becoming angry and confrotational.
It's no good, the emotional hangovers are BRUTAL and I did not vacate my last hostile living situation to move into another one. Clearly, G.O.D has a lesson for me that I failed to learn the first time around, so we're going for it again.
G.O.D-
Please, for the love of all that is Holy and True, show me what it is you want me to learn in this situation so I can do the damn thing and get on with my life. And please, again for the love of all that is Holy and True, make it obvious.
Can I get a witness? Whoop whoop!
Ingenue
Monday, May 25, 2009
Birthday GRRL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
My birthday was actually this past Saturday, but I am now 3 to the 0. Is it just me or does that KICK ASS? I mean, really, 30 is a brand new decade. I'm sober, I'm fifth stepped, I'm blonde, I'm fearless. What's not to love here? But the real gifts of this birthday just keep piling up. It's not what I would have asked for, but clearly God has chosen to celebrate my arrival into my Dirty Thirties......
GD's Gifts to Me:
- On Thursday my sponsor sat for 7 hours (WHEN THE WOMAN HAD MONO) to hear my fifth step. She helped me see things about myself that I've been batshit blind to for the last 29 years. Nothing's felt the same since, and I am truly ready to march into this wild world and right the wrongs, bring the funk and bring the noise. I feel like a warrior princess gone gorgeous, and 90% of that is in seeing where my defects are (and praying daily that they be removed from me, so I can fully serve this Universe).
- On Friday, just after my spiritual experience, I got to qualify at one of my FAV women's meetings. Normally, qualifications for me are ego-driven Team Ingenue Extravaganzas. This one felt different from the jump. I was moved people. Can I get a witness?
- On Saturday (otherwise known as THE BIG DAY) I did yoga, took about a million birthday phone calls, ate a red velvet cupcake given to my by my roomie, and laid out in the sun. After that came the DANCING because it wouldn't be a weekend, let alone a birthday, without dancing.
- On Sunday the Universe said happy birthday to me with a New Moon in Gemini. A New Moon in your sign, ON YOUR DAMN BIRTHDAY, is a huuuuuuge deal. It doesn't happen very often. When it does, one must be prepared to harness that shit and take the ride. You say your New Moon wishes, you spiritually prepare yourself for change, and you step into the unknown.
A spiritual experience, a New Moon, a full dancecard, and the gift of being me! Happy Birthday, indeed.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Ingenue
Sunday, May 3, 2009
I don't know how...I don't know why.....
I feel amazing today. Like, really fantastic. I'm working seven days in a row, I haven't showered since Friday (it's Sunday morning), but I feel better than I have in a while. I feel cute (thanks to my favorite slouchy hat which covers up seriously grungy hair and brings the adorable all at the same time), my muscles are presently in love with me (thanks to Exercise TV) and I am happy. Fancy that!
Today is not the sort of day I would have planned out for myself. I'm technically on duty at the jobsite, but I have more freedom to wander and catch a meeting and drop off my laundry and all that happy horseshit. Yesterday I felt completely LOCKED DOWN and I had a really hard time accepting the fact that I was going to have a 13 hour workday, ON A FREAKING SATURDAY, when Times Square was just outside my door filled with happy, joyous, and free tourists who had NO FUCKING IDEA how much I was suffering mere feet away from their joviality.
This is where my head goes when I am in Active Resistance Mode. It doesn't matter what I'm resisting, form does not follow function in this case. It could be that my pedicure is taking too long. It could be a dinner where 10 people too many showed up, and I wanted it to be intimate and cozy. It could be a seventeen hour work day, or it could be a day off where nobody else wants to play.
Active Resistance Mode is simply me finding my body in one place, and my mind wishing it were somewhere else. I start daydreaming, and then I start mentally conniving, and then I start silently begging, and next comes the fuming. After a few hours of all of this inner dialogue I take it to the streets and start shouting at whoever I've decided Is. To. Blame. for the fact that I am being held somewhere against my will.
It's pretty fucking painful, I can tell you that much. It's an even more horrible headspace now that I rarely occupy it. I've had a taste of freedom and surrender and whenever I lock myself back up it's completely unbearable because I know all to well what's on the other side of the bars.....
Today, I surrendered to the Universe and the Universe surrendered itself to me. Off to enjoy my dirty hair and my sunlit spirit.
Construction Kisses,
Ingenue
Today is not the sort of day I would have planned out for myself. I'm technically on duty at the jobsite, but I have more freedom to wander and catch a meeting and drop off my laundry and all that happy horseshit. Yesterday I felt completely LOCKED DOWN and I had a really hard time accepting the fact that I was going to have a 13 hour workday, ON A FREAKING SATURDAY, when Times Square was just outside my door filled with happy, joyous, and free tourists who had NO FUCKING IDEA how much I was suffering mere feet away from their joviality.
This is where my head goes when I am in Active Resistance Mode. It doesn't matter what I'm resisting, form does not follow function in this case. It could be that my pedicure is taking too long. It could be a dinner where 10 people too many showed up, and I wanted it to be intimate and cozy. It could be a seventeen hour work day, or it could be a day off where nobody else wants to play.
Active Resistance Mode is simply me finding my body in one place, and my mind wishing it were somewhere else. I start daydreaming, and then I start mentally conniving, and then I start silently begging, and next comes the fuming. After a few hours of all of this inner dialogue I take it to the streets and start shouting at whoever I've decided Is. To. Blame. for the fact that I am being held somewhere against my will.
It's pretty fucking painful, I can tell you that much. It's an even more horrible headspace now that I rarely occupy it. I've had a taste of freedom and surrender and whenever I lock myself back up it's completely unbearable because I know all to well what's on the other side of the bars.....
Today, I surrendered to the Universe and the Universe surrendered itself to me. Off to enjoy my dirty hair and my sunlit spirit.
Construction Kisses,
Ingenue
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