|
sublingua | |||||
| The heart with a mind of its own.(Be present.) | The mind with a heart of its own.(It's past.) | The dream that is your waking life.(Go there now.) | |||
|
New-Old Demons
Several demons cropped up this morning: Demon #1 was the demon who feels as though she's wasting her life. The Demon Who Can't Get Out Of Bed In The Morning (a.k.a. The Demon Whose Somatic Memory Ties Us To The Past). This demon remembers August as the month when I get older but not better. She remembers August as the month when we were children and had to go back to school where we were the fattest kid and the youngest kid in our class because we were also the smartest kid and had skipped a few grades early on and she remembers that all of this made us the most alienated and friendless kid in the world. This demon remembers that August is the month when Max and I first got together, the month we got married, the month we separated. She remembers August as the month, fifteen years ago, when we found out we were pregnant and the month we had an abortion. She remembers August as the month when depression comes back from its summer vacation to prepare a nest for winter. Demon #2 was The Demon Addicted To Eating. This demon is still with us, though we tried to outrun her by losing 212 pounds. She continued to get leaner and stronger with us and she still drives us to consume, consume, consume and to focus on food as though it could make up for Demon #1's influence. This demon was spawned in the kitchen of my grandmother, whose life revolves around food too, who tried to make a life out of feeding feeding feeding her hoard and who helped to make us fat and who was always fat herself. This demon knows that a food-centric life is a wasted life and she still pursues food with a single-minded passion that defies all attempts to cut her off. This demon loves sugar and fat. This demon loves food in quantities that would fell lesser demons. Demon #3 is The Demon Who Can't Leave The House. This demon is related to Demon #1, but is different. Even if I can conquer Demon #1, Demon #3 sometimes crops up to take her place. This demon doesn't want to comb her hair or brush her teeth. This demon meets only the minimum requirements for a life, but doesn't leave room for things that might bring pleasure, enjoyment, learning. This demon is able to resist Frida's call--and everyone else's calls--to come out and play. She screens our calls. She wears sweats all day long. She listens to lonely demon music and thinks about how to improve herself without ever taking steps to do any of it. This demon is convinced that no one likes us. This demon is a demon that I have been wrangling for a year and a month. She is resistant to many other demon wrangling tactics and she has her roots in my childhood, in an upbringing by Demon #35: Father, who worked and came home and got drunk and then slept and got up and went to work and came home and got drunk and then slept and got up... I want them gone. New wrangling tactics to commence in three...two...one... Start Here I am grateful. I am grateful for demons and for the ability to wrangle demons. I am grateful for the gym, for bad drivers, for Judi. I am grateful for Max. I am grateful for water. I am grateful for the basic things in life, for my independence, for the struggle for independence. I am grateful for this time, for all linear and nonlinear time, for this moment, for every crazy lab partner I ever had (including Phi Kappa Asshole). I am grateful. I am grateful for depression, for years spent depressed, for years spent recovering from depression, for the battles, for all battles. I am grateful and obedient. I am grateful and humble. I am grateful.
More lies:
|
|||||