Feeling more than a tad off at the moment.
I think it all started last night, when my dinner was a Bacon King (think Baconator but from BK) and a poutine from Burger Thing.
In retrospect, that was probably too much grease.
But dammit, sometimes my French blood cries out for cholesterol!
Anyhow, then I took a very large poop – so far so good. Better out than in and all that. But then my body wanted to just keep on going.
So since then, I have have two diarrhea poops. Nothing that threatens the bedsheets or anything, but still mildly unpleasant. Felt…. wrong, somehow.
And now I still have this weird cold crampy feeling in my digestive system. Like my guts are full of greasy ice cubes.
Not fun, folks.
So I consider myself to be on yellow alert, irritable bowl syndrome wise. I know that I might get worse at any point if I am not careful. So I will be monitoring my situation, especially when I go eat at Denny’s later.
Think I will get a salad as my appy instead of my usual chicken noodle soup. The last thing I need right now is a fat-bearing fluid like my beloved chicken noodle soup.
What I need is a good layer of cellulose from a salad to give my stomach something solid and resistant to digestion to work on for a while.
My IBS is always a little worse in the summer, when it can team up with my tendency towards dehydration and heatstroke to make me truly miserable.
Plus, I ran out of my antihistamine, and I have been sneezing, and that means that the whole system-wide inflammatory response that comes with my hay fever is also in play and ready to make me still more miserable.
So things are rather tricky at the moment.
Oh right, before I forget : I count. I matter. I contribute. I help. I am not a burden or a liability. People are very happy that I am around and would hate for me to go away. I bring joy and fun and warmth to people. They value me highly.
Lots of people want me around. They are happy to see me and sad to see me go. I am welcome in their presence. I fit in just fine with them.
I have value, I am worthy. I am wanted. I am needed. I am good to have around.
I assert these truths to banish my dark delusions and bring myself into the good clean pure wholesome light of day, and let the sunshine disinfect me.
I am glad to burn for this purification. I eat this pain. Bring it on, I hunger for mere suffering. Pain is good, it reminds me that I am alive and cuts through all this god damned fog in my head.
I decided a while ago that I would rather feel pain than feel nothing. And somewhere deep inside my psyche is a new me waiting to be born.
And birth is never easy.,
But god, am I ready,.
Back after the break.
I still feel resistance to these affirmations of mine.
That’s kind of the point, though. If there was no resistance, I wouldn’t have to do them. The idea is to keep affirming the truth until I fully accept it.
And a lot of resistance is mere friction – resistance to change. Change is scary. It requires us to explore and claim new territory instead of staying with the familiar.
And that remains true even when the familiar sucks.
Call it the “the devil you know” effect.
We always fear the unknown. It acts as a blank canvas on which we can project all our hopes, wishes, dreams…. and fears.
So for a person like me with severe trust/control issues, unknown = bad, no matter how illogical that is. I only trust the known and because my sense of safety was shattered at such an early age, I automatically assume only that which I know to be safe is safe.
But I am repeating myself.
Loving and valuing myself represents the unknown to me now,. so as positive and wonderful and joyous as it is, still, I fear it as well.
But there is definitely no going back now. These worms cannot be re-canned. Once I am fully conscious of the truth, it can’t be suppressed again.
There is no reverse gear on my train of thought.
So it’s just a matter of persistence versus resistance. My conscious mind is fully on board and it’s just a matter of slowly and steadily pushing the truth through all the layers of my subconscious mind till it is truly,.deeply, and completely believed.
As I have said before in this space long and ever ago, knowing and believing are two entirely different things.
And they operate on their own set of rules.
It’s possible to believe something without knowing it… that’s called faith.
I’ve heard good things about that.
And it’s possible to know things without believing them – that doesn’t have a name that I know of, but it’s extremelty common.
The most base form of knowing I can think of is “knowing the right answer”. That means that, if asked, you will give the “right” answer, but absolutely none of the emotional connections that answer should logically have are active or present.
So if someone asked me, “Are you an awful thing?” , the previous version of myself would tiredly say no, because that is the “right” answer and the one that will result in the least social complications, but I wouldn’t feel it at all.
As things are now, I feel it, but the feelings are a thin and threadbare thing. A tender shoot pushing up through the snow to signal spring.
As I continue to strengthen and nourish it, it will grown thick and strong, and one day it will be a mighty towering oak of self-love that acts as shelter, support, and nourishment for a hale and heart soul, and my long winter of the spirit will finally be over.
I died when I was raped.
But soon, I will live again.
SO IT SHALL BE!
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.