Hurricane Andréa

Today's blob/blab was a difficult one to muster.

I had to take pain killers upon wakening.

Just getting to my compose page was hard enough.

Anyway, you know how it's so easy to tell someone what they need to be doing, but when it comes to us doing it, we fail to live up to the dare?

Yeah.

We all do it.

Well, just the other day, a friend had a meltdown.  I told her it was necessary to her healing to allow the feelings to come out.

Sure.

Sounds about right.

However, when I have a meltdown, I can't find anything positive in the behaviour.

There I was, looking like a crazed woman, because The Mrs. peed in The Golden's bed.

Now this would be expected of The Bastard Prince, and quite positively I could say that Psycho Kitty would do the same.

Hell!

We all know Sir Bark-A-Lot would do it.

But The Mrs.?!?!

Anyway, the real reason I had such a meltdown over it was because I had just washed the floors.

Ok.

If I'm being truthful, it's because I didn't take any pain killers later on to counter attack my house cleaning, and was at a level 8 on the pain scale..

Well, actually, if you factor in that I gorged on sugar the day before, hence, feeling a negative psychological effect, ...

aka a sugar induced temper tantrum ...

... then watched the only 'good' cat in the house do a nasty, I lost it.

From that point forward, I was taking a stroll to hell.

I tried to put my almond butter in the fridge, and instead it spewed all over the floor I had just washed.

I tried to get paper towels to clean it up, because the cleaning rag was in the wash after having cleaned up The Mrs. gift, and the entire paper roll just unwound in my hands.

ok ... slight exaggeration ... it was only about 6 feet of it ...

Then as I tried to clean off the almond butter jar, my dear sweet Papi said, "You're attracting your bad energy right now.  That's why this is all happening.  Can you just laugh at yourself maybe?  It's not the end of the world."

It was at that moment my bitch of a back had her revenge on me and I slumped into a crying, fetal position monstrosity, muttering words about how this fucking gratitude list 'isn't working'.

The Big Xmas Meltdown.

So, as I tell my friend it's necessary and healthy to have a meltdown and let it all go, there I was being so hard on myself because my gratitude list wasn't working.

When I proceeded to relocate my fetal position to our comfy bed, complete with watching on Jon Stewart to cheer me up, I realized that I did do this to myself.

I stopped taking pain killers because they made me slow, ate a box-full of wheat-free, dairy-free sugar cookies because I saw them, and took the cat piss as a personal attack on me.

You know, living like a pissy grumbler from hell because my bitch of a back didn't like that I cleaned the house is no way to live.

Fuck this rancid pain.

I won't live like that.

I'm grateful that I have a pain reducing method that helps me get through my day.

I'm grateful that my spouse understands why I get in the moods I do, but allows me the space to have them.

I'm grateful that I have new programs to play with for composing, so that I may be taken away into another world filled with peace.

I'm grateful that I am able to see the effects sugar, pain and lack of self-care, and am able to take steps in changing these for the better.

I'm just plain grateful ...