Friday, March 13, 2009

6 Hours

That's it! I was able to sleep for 6 hours last night!
It's a record for the week, past 2 weeks?
I feel pretty darn tootin' good. I cried last night. Just a little.
Apparently, it was just enough.

Doesn't even begin to outline some of the emotions I have been producing.
There it is.
I'm more than sure anger has not just been a fleeting emotion for me as of late.
It has to do with so many environmental issues.
Past crutches, current tendencies.
The weather. (Todd Howell, I still haven't forgiven you.)

This past week, I started shaking.
Pent up? Even laying in bed with a Mark Harmon poster.... No relief in sight.
That's not when it started. Sunday afternoon?
Screaming, cussing, fit with a yard tool of my Mom's.
Slashed knuckles produced. Broken tool thing.
Red faced. No tears. Just piss and vinegar.
Jumping up and down on this, this, thing.
Throwing the thing across the get the picture.

No sleep.
Tuesday, little nap through the night.
Wednesday, 2 hours, and the episode began.
Work frustrations reigning down, attitude in check, the severe shakes began.
Head change, stomach on fire, shakes.... heart racing.

It's not coffee.
It's not cold meds.
It's not from lack of eating.
It's just me. And my body rebelling like a wild, hormonal, teenager.

Did I mention the full moon?
Now, I'm not Miss Crystal Visions type of tracking the moon gal, but, it all ties in.
The passion flowing? Adrenaline?

It's Paramount.

You know the days you wish your lover had a higher thresh hold of pain?
Trapped in a box, shadowboxing? Shoe throwing, screaming aggression?

Searching for my own personal Jesus? Salvation?

Which brings me to sexual addicts. Compulsion.
That's not my bag, not my burden, but I can relate to those feelings.
Of compulsion.
Drawn in.
Having such a deep desire to satisfy a carnal pleasure.
In bed, you have to be someone different.
Fingertips walking down my hip bones, my skin screaming to be touched.

That's not even the half of it. Nope.

Compulsion? Not being able to help it?
Yeah, I have 'em. Addictions.
My shades of gray? Nope, black and white.
My remedy?
Pursuit. Of the silly little fox jumping down in the hole to it's den.....

Reality strikes me. Rides me, relentlessly.

Manners!!! Mind them!!!!!


Turning back, March 6, 2009. 4:30 A.M.
I heard knocking.
Plain as the nose on my face.
From somewhere. The dogs didn't bark.
In my mind? The knocking?
At my door?

It happened. I know it for a fact.

March 9, 2009. Midnightish?
Last night, in bed, I heard the knocking.
If someone were outside, the dogs would have been in knots.

Hips are killing me. Back to body in rebellion....
Pushing myself to limits that I can't bear, I was able to catch a portion of rest.
Who knows. Why.

It is what it is.

Tough titty, said the kitty, but mmm mmm, good is the milk!

You get what you get, and don't pitch a fit.

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