mindgames

Stress is doing annoying things to me. My stomach has been cramping and spasming since yesterday, I've been afraid to eat more than a few mouthfuls; I'm glad Adam moved the full-length mirror to the side room, because I started doing it again, pinching my abdomen searching for that nonexistent excess flesh.
And there really is nothing serious to be stressed over. And that makes me laugh at myself. Because, what? I'm fine, I'm bloody fine and good and well. Except for those small things that are really just teeth-grinding nostril-flaring fist-clenching curse-muttering aggravations.

And yet, and yet. Darker things are coming up from way back in my brain, bad memories of the thing that I made myself forget, the thing that happened to a naive, immature, innocent eighteen-year-old girl who thought and convinced herself that it wasn't bad, that it was fine, that she hadn't stopped it so it was obviously what she wanted, that nothing bad had happened, even though something could have, almost did, and she just kept telling herself that she was stupid to worry. Because she didn't know how to stand up. Because she thought nothing was wrong and everything was fine.

And you know what, I shouldn't allow myself to be so stressed, I shouldn't allow all of this to hit me so hard. Because that's what I'm doing. I won't blame the stress factors, I blame myself for reacting like this. My husband isn't as badly stressed because he knows how to let it wash over him, how to stand up and fight back and win. My mother told me that I can't be a victim if I don't let myself be a victim, at least not in the terms of these stress factors. That I actually need to stand up, and say that I won't have it anymore, enough is enough, this is bullshit and this will stop. All my life I have tread softly because I was so terrified of hurting others. And when I did hurt others, I became so apologetic and frightened that I never learned to really stand up. I never stood up. I always always backed down.
It really is time to stop that.

Everything on my body hurts today. There isn't a single place on my body that does not hurt in some way. When I get home I am spending twenty minutes doing nothing but meditating and stretching and breathing, and then twenty minutes giving myself a relaxing facial complete with massage; and if anyone needs me within that time, they will have to wait.

mindgames

Stress is doing annoying things to me. My stomach has been cramping and spasming since yesterday, I've been afraid to eat more than a few mouthfuls; I'm glad Adam moved the full-length mirror to the side room, because I started doing it again, pinching my abdomen searching for that nonexistent excess flesh.
And there really is nothing serious to be stressed over. And that makes me laugh at myself. Because, what? I'm fine, I'm bloody fine and good and well. Except for those small things that are really just teeth-grinding nostril-flaring fist-clenching curse-muttering aggravations.

And yet, and yet. Darker things are coming up from way back in my brain, bad memories of the thing that I made myself forget, the thing that happened to a naive, immature, innocent eighteen-year-old girl who thought and convinced herself that it wasn't bad, that it was fine, that she hadn't stopped it so it was obviously what she wanted, that nothing bad had happened, even though something could have, almost did, and she just kept telling herself that she was stupid to worry. Because she didn't know how to stand up. Because she thought nothing was wrong and everything was fine.

And you know what, I shouldn't allow myself to be so stressed, I shouldn't allow all of this to hit me so hard. Because that's what I'm doing. I won't blame the stress factors, I blame myself for reacting like this. My husband isn't as badly stressed because he knows how to let it wash over him, how to stand up and fight back and win. My mother told me that I can't be a victim if I don't let myself be a victim, at least not in the terms of these stress factors. That I actually need to stand up, and say that I won't have it anymore, enough is enough, this is bullshit and this will stop. All my life I have tread softly because I was so terrified of hurting others. And when I did hurt others, I became so apologetic and frightened that I never learned to really stand up. I never stood up. I always always backed down.
It really is time to stop that.

Everything on my body hurts today. There isn't a single place on my body that does not hurt in some way. When I get home I am spending twenty minutes doing nothing but meditating and stretching and breathing, and then twenty minutes giving myself a relaxing facial complete with massage; and if anyone needs me within that time, they will have to wait.

mindgames

Stress is doing annoying things to me. My stomach has been cramping and spasming since yesterday, I've been afraid to eat more than a few mouthfuls; I'm glad Adam moved the full-length mirror to the side room, because I started doing it again, pinching my abdomen searching for that nonexistent excess flesh.
And there really is nothing serious to be stressed over. And that makes me laugh at myself. Because, what? I'm fine, I'm bloody fine and good and well. Except for those small things that are really just teeth-grinding nostril-flaring fist-clenching curse-muttering aggravations.

And yet, and yet. Darker things are coming up from way back in my brain, bad memories of the thing that I made myself forget, the thing that happened to a naive, immature, innocent eighteen-year-old girl who thought and convinced herself that it wasn't bad, that it was fine, that she hadn't stopped it so it was obviously what she wanted, that nothing bad had happened, even though something could have, almost did, and she just kept telling herself that she was stupid to worry. Because she didn't know how to stand up. Because she thought nothing was wrong and everything was fine.

And you know what, I shouldn't allow myself to be so stressed, I shouldn't allow all of this to hit me so hard. Because that's what I'm doing. I won't blame the stress factors, I blame myself for reacting like this. My husband isn't as badly stressed because he knows how to let it wash over him, how to stand up and fight back and win. My mother told me that I can't be a victim if I don't let myself be a victim, at least not in the terms of these stress factors. That I actually need to stand up, and say that I won't have it anymore, enough is enough, this is bullshit and this will stop. All my life I have tread softly because I was so terrified of hurting others. And when I did hurt others, I became so apologetic and frightened that I never learned to really stand up. I never stood up. I always always backed down.
It really is time to stop that.

Everything on my body hurts today. There isn't a single place on my body that does not hurt in some way. When I get home I am spending twenty minutes doing nothing but meditating and stretching and breathing, and then twenty minutes giving myself a relaxing facial complete with massage; and if anyone needs me within that time, they will have to wait.