“That’s the guy who threw George out of the wedding.”

traditional wedding

Today I am so very contrary.  Anxiety keeps pinching my adrenal glands, giggling at the hormonal chaos that ensues.  My mind betrays me further by throwing up too vivid snapshots of moments in the past that triggered this response.  Yeah.  Thanks for reminding me why Anxiety took up permanent residence in the first place.  I’d forgotten.  Not.  (Yep.  I talk like it’s still 1987.)

M asked me if I have an idea of when we should marry.  I didn’t immediately answer.  Instead, I instantly regressed to a 5-year-old mentality, then willed myself to mature back to adulthood.  It was like passing an emotional kidney stone, but I managed.  I’ve been low-level processing this question for months.  I know what I want.  I was afraid it wouldn’t match what M wants.

I used the whiteboard to outline my pros, cons, and an alternate option.  It was a necessary bridge to the discussion that followed.  I feel like I destroyed some of M’s innocence in the process.  He’s never experienced the repercussions of being virtually owned by another entity.  I don’t think it’s something people ponder unless it touches their lives.paper beats rock

I know many others have experienced the potential horror of seeking asylum from an abusive marriage by using 911.  They too see how the attitudes and beliefs of individual law enforcement affect the justice for a perceived possession far more than any laws.  They’ve probably also experienced medical professionals in their face asking why they don’t merely call the police; while glaring with accusing eyes.

I think M understands why paper beats rock, now.  A paper marriage license almost got me killed last time.  Experience outweighs statistics in this instance.  I don’t want to do it again, even if my reasons are (now) irrational.  I’d prefer creating a partnership that doesn’t involve the government.  (Especially one that’s attempting to transition into The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood.)

It disgusts me that in 2018, what is or isn’t between my legs has more influence over my life than any other factor on this planet.  I know when people look at me, they’re automatically assessing my worth based on things for which I have no control.  Many determine how to treat me, and whether I deserve respect or even life itself on the same basis.  I’m an NPC (non-player character) in this vile game of fraudulence and domination.wedding hands

I catch myself thinking about the citizens of Germany during the Holocaust of late.  Visiting the Dachau concentration camp memorial in Bavaria transformed (and broke) me more than any other single event in my life so far.  It’s likely why Anxiety is beating me about the head and neck.  I’m a pattern finder.  It’s no wonder I feel like I can’t catch my breath most of the time, these days.

M told me he wants to be my partner for life, and we can celebrate it however I want.  I responded like a 13-year-old who just found out her crush like-likes her, including the pre-choreographed dance routine and high-pitched squee.  Shutup.  Heh.  I’m relieved it didn’t turn out to be a case of, This is Where I Leave You (funny movie, btw.)  I’m off to work on my vows for our untraditional partnership.  🙃 💜

“You know, these movies are great, but they’re just so emotionally exhausting.”

Growing sprouts

I used up most of my energy before noon, today.  Whoops.  I’m allowing too much news to get through.  I’m battling against an overwhelming desire to isolate, as a result.  I remember when I used to surrender to this urge.  It seems like a long time ago, but it’s been just over a year since I crawled out from beneath that rock.  Life is quite challenging now, and it’s building me up.

Anxiety has been dangling me by my ankle over a pit of doom.  I’m hanging there, trusting in The Force while my body trembles.  I need a Star Wars marathon.  I’m going to do a chronological order viewing over the course of a week.  We’re heading to Denver soon for a short tree planting session.  M is going to play with drones.  I miss the smell of freshly turned earth.

I watched Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee, yesterday.  I started from the beginning and watched through Sarah Jessica Parker.  Jim Carrey made me laugh so hard I cried.  I didn’t know he was a painter.  You get to see lots of his works inside his art studio.  I love the show because it’s not only hilarious, it’s fascinating.  I love Netflix.  Heh.

flying drone

I think I may need to include a rest day in my workout schedule.  My muscles feel itchy, which is distracting.  I haven’t quit running yet.  When I step onto the trail, my body starts running automatically.  I roll with it until I get to the first street crossing.  Then I walk for a bit until my mind wanders again, and I start jogging.  It’s a stim, not my workout, so I don’t mind.  It calms me.

I create mashups of songs by Stevie Nicks and ABBA in my head while I run, lately.  Edge of Seventeen mashed with Does Your Mother Know is ridic dope.  I may even try to mix it myself just because I need it in my life.  It’s in my top two songs right now, including Nice For What by Drake.  The creative part of my brain works so well when I’m in constant, rhythmic motion.

I regret pushing to muscle failure in my workout this morning.  I forgot I’m in my 40’s or something.  I don’t feel older; I need more time to recover, and stretching is no longer optional.  I remember when my body could do whatever I demanded without flinching.  I would miss it, but I’m too busy being pleased with what I can still do.  Recovery time and lots of stretching are acceptable.  I practice meditation while I stretch like it’s worth extra credit; (it probably is.)  I’m off to make popcorn for my marathon.  😆 💜