maybe it’s mania…
i can’t tell if i’m motivated purely by the pain or i’m experiencing a manic episode. i’ve never been diagnosed as bipolar, but it sure as hell seems like i am.
i’m wired awake and rapidly climbing the ranks of facebook’s sorority life (a.k.a. the you have no life game). i’m taking breaks to blog in between sessions when i have to wait for my character to regain energy to continue playing. my legs feel a cross between numb and being crushed. and there’s no precipitation being predicted at all, so this is totally just a flare. almost certainly caused by the shock to my system that is getting tattooed. ouch.
tomorrow i spend the day at my mom’s. i feel like it will be inevitably awkward, because she knows about my adult industry work. we haven’t been alone together since she’s found this out. but, hopefully she’s like me: social etiquette enables the impression that if you don’t speak of it, there is no it. i love that about social cues.
i used to cringe at the idea of anything hegemony. now i’m debating acquiring debt in order to procure porn-star clown boobs. but i have to say, accepting social norms and blending in has done wonders for my confidence. it feels good to be somewhat normal. and i enjoy much more being politicized to improve quality of life for the existing population to that of my anti-hegemony days, when my head lived in the clouds of intention to improve quality of life for future generations.
so, yeah, i’m cool with being a housewife.
but, i’m not one yet. so i’m still waiting for *him* to do the dishes and clean the bathroom this time round.
unrelated: i need to drink more water. let’s all try to drink more water, eh? it’s incredibly frustrating how i’ve gotten so out of the habit of drinking water. i used to be far more concerned with my health. i think when i found out i had lupus a part of me just said, “fuck it.”
i decided to look at the sark book again. the next question she asks is what can i do to nourish myself better?
i can
…drink more water
…stop eating after 10
…stop looking at myself sideways in the mirror
it’s a short list because i treat myself pretty damn well. i spend most of my time lounging, and i work predominantly at my convenience. i spend ample time beautifying myself. i do practically whatever i want. but my therapist and i discussed today that the amount of time i spend critiquing myself is proving less than useful.
the critiques are always the same: too much fat in the belly and not enough in the tits. there’s nothing else i can complain about, really. so i focus in on it like a sharpshooter on prey. sort of like a drama addiction: i’m used to having problems, so now that i don’t, i make weight my big issue. of course it’s more complex than that because i’ve had an eating disorder for 50% of my lifespan and that’s indicative of a much more deeply rooted derivation than me seeking something to occupy my time.
I am a community outreach and harm reduction enthusiast, and i spend a lot of time devoted to causes i believe in. so it’s not like i’m a waste of space. but especially in times like these, i’m lucky to be living pretty damn well.
to recap, it’s a good idea to think when you’re sad about what you are glad about and ways you can nourish *read: pamper* yourself. it’s already helping me to remember that i’m supposed to pamper myself. it’s like i finally have permission to relish in the little things that make being alive bearable. me likey.
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