I have the worst headache known to mankind right now. I feel like I'm gonna puke. I want to go lay down, but I'm afraid even more pressure will go to my head and make me vomit all over myself.
I started taking St. John's Wort 3 days ago, as a substitute for anti-depressants. My therapist says I should take SOMETHING considering my bi-polar, but I just couldn't bring myself to take meds. Not after the 6 year prozac/zoloft/buspar fiasco that Snookms endured. I also take these nasty fish oil pellet thingies (omega 3 fatty acids) as a mood stabilizer, because just an anti-depressant on it's own could throw me into a manic phase. As much as I love my manic phases, I just can't handle the "down unders" any more.
I've been learning alot about myself in this past week. Things that are helping me to better myself and grow, and to be fruitful and prosperous to my spawn as well. Soon our floor shall be covered in mangoes.
I am learning that when anger is allowed to be a normal healthy feelilng, instead of something that should be repressed and hidden away, as I always thought it was as a child, that it expresses the awareness that something is wrong, something hurts, or something needs to change. When allowed to express our anger naturally, we learn how to say "no". We learn that it's okay to draw a boundary without having to put the smackdown on the other person. We learn to respect the boundaries of other assholes as well, and to accept their right to be an asshole when we violate these boundaries. (taken from "Getting Through the Day" by Nancy J. Napier, minus the "smackdown" and "asshole" terminology, that right there was all ME folks. *jabs self in chest importantly*)
I've learned that indulging my inner child has been one of the best things I can do for myself. I played with Moonsand for 2 hours the other day. My daughter and I made a sandcastle fort, complete with an island the shape of a giant ass. Moonsand is just one of those "forbidden fruits" for me. I see my daughter over there playing, enjoying, having fun running this ingenious fluid invention through her fingers, and I want nothing more than to plop my size 11 ass down next to hers, crosslegged and awestruck with the amazing components that compel Moonsand to stay moist, but still manage to have the appearance of dryness. But I denied myself that pleasure for far too long. There were always 1,001 excuses about why I COULDN'T do it, rather than why I could. I heard my inner child cry and struggle with each rejection, as well as my own daughter's, but for reasons I care not to share here, there or anywhere that doesn't involve me paying an African American Greek Orthodox nun a subsidy fee of $5.00 an hour to listen to my problems, could never bring myself to do. But I finally caved last week. And this week. And so I shall next week, and every other fucking week thereafter. I shall never let a week pass by in my life again that I don't play with Moonsand. I shall also start commenting my own blogs, seeing as no one else sees it fit to. Word to your motherfucking Grandmother.
I re-read my book the other day too. I've put this off ever since I got it back from my brother. It's all self put together of course, stacked neatly in a $4.29 binder that I got from fucking Walgreens of all places. But like I said, I've been putting off reading it for quite some time now, and I had a free Wednesday, so I decided after detail cleaning my house, I'd finally give it a read again. I didn't hate it like I thought I would. It didn't make me cringe in disgust either, which made me feel more motivated. My mom and dad are going to try and help me get it published. (Even if we DO have to self-publish, which looks like it's the way we are gonna go.) And I've heard of all the disdain that self published books are regarded with, and that SOME even construe it equivalent to "yellow snow" which, while funny as all motherfucking hell it was to hear it be compared to that, doesn't warrant enough to cease my efforts. So, heavy is the walk I shall trudge that is making my book a reality. And besides, Snookms' stepmom said that reading it was the highlight of her summer. That's gotta count for something.
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