Weekly Log copy

Weekly Log #4: Preparing for Battle

My weekly ritual for looking at my the week that was.

Weekly Log copy

How dramatic, Mary…

But yes. That’s how it felt. A week and a half of intense “Tunnel” and serious pain, and processing said pain.

Preparing for Battle

By the time this post goes live, I will be at this yoga festival…

I-am-terrified.
And it seems like I’ve been terrified for quite a while.

I have a humongous tendency to diminish my pain, to go “naaah, it’ll be ok, no pain here, it’s fine”. And then I suffer the consequences.
Sometimes I suffer the consequences *before*. It appears this is one of those times.

It’s as if I knew, subconsciously, that I was going to do something super challenging, so I just… broke down over and over again for a week and a half prior to the event.

No, I don’t understand how it works either. But hey, we work with what comes up, and we learn as we go along.

  • Saturday: pain. Period Day, so of course, but still…
  • Sunday: beginning of de-hair-ing process.

De-hair-ing process: also known as “removing all the hair from my legs to leave me presentable and beach ready”.
I am Spanish. That is a lot of hair. It-was-painful, and triggering, in the emotional sense. It goes to show how far I’ve come that I can do this with almost no emotional pain… (yay for progress)

Also, I couldn’t stand it anymore. After a whole week of zero sugar, I got myself some bagels. I am a woman, and I have needs!

And I tried “pina colada” for the first time. My, it’s tasty!

  • Monday: lots of processing the pain of a “crisis”, aka: “my life is a complete mess”.

Yes, it’s true. There isn’t a single area of my life that isn’t a complete mess, and I’m in pain. Patience. Processing. Working with it.
And I’m grateful for all the tools I’ve learned along the way.

Also: more de-hairing. It’s a 3 day process. After that, I will have precisely 3 weeks to find a man… (yes, this is a joke. On a more serious note: I am so utterly-exhausted from being single, from longing closeness and intimacy, that I feel I cannot stand it another minute, and I break down. This happens regularly… It happened today.)

Swinging. I found swings nearby and spent a good amount of time on one. Yay for finding something that made my childhood happy.

  • Tuesday: Finally finished with my legs.

All the stuff about how I am hideous and undesirable and nobody will ever love me. Also, horrible memories of AH#1 about this very issue.

Hurting, oh, hurting so, so much today. So much pain. So much longing for things that are not possible, so much sadness for things that aren’t “right”, so much feeling sick, emotionally sick, and completely unable to “shift it”…

  • Wednesday: Went “shopping” with V.

And by “shopping” I mean “window shopping”. Bittersweetness.

Also, processing all the stuff in preparation for the weekend.

  • Thursday: Dentist appointment. Right before Yoga Festival on Friday.

I was prepared for hard things. I was prepared for a root canal, losing a tooth, any sort of bad news…
I was not, however, prepared to be face to face with a gorgeous blue-eyed man while sitting on the dentist chair.
I somehow managed to get through it without losing my cool. (points for me) but it only meant losing it big time when I got back.
Boy, did I lose it! What is it with men?!? Why are they so… gorgeous? HUH?!?!

It took me over an hour of buzzing around in a neurotic-anxious way and whining Sailor Moon style*, before I realised what had “stung” so much.

*whining Sailor Moon style: imagine a 14 year old wailing like a baby. That.

Also, all the panic about weekend logistics! Serious panic! Asking for help! All the issues around asking for help!

Moments of Insight

  • Here’s what “stung” about encountering Gorgeous Dentist:

It wasn’t that he was gorgeous… It was that he was nice to me. Not only was he nice, but he showed genuine enthusiasm when I said I come from Argentina. He even said he was learning Spanish!

So. A gorgeous, British blue-eyed man was impressed by my origins and didn’t think me “horrible” on account of my dark hair, accent, and dark eyes.
THAT was what stung me. Because the only thing worse than men being nasty, is men being nice… Apparently.

W00t?!?!?! I cannot be “Miss Independent”! I cannot! I know, Imo has been going on about it for quite a while, but I refused to believe him.
This is going to take some more processing.

Things of Considerable Worth (Un-missables!)

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All the points for surviving this week! ALL-THE-POINTS!!!

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