Shame/Fail

The best thing that happened today didn’t. I didn’t get in a car accident, I didn’t totally lose a friend, and I didn’t shit myself during my dance class or any other time.

The dance teacher had a sore right upper trap and so I offered some massage. She also has fibromyalgia, she said, so I said if anything hurts, you must tell me to stop. At the end of the class she thanked me for this massage. At the beginning, she complimented my weird fashion belt, hand-me-down from my mother, which I use to hold in the bulge above the belly button. The diastasis/hernia bulge. I hate that bulge.

I hate all the bulges, the square ones on my hips that make them like a pumpkin ready to burst. The waist roll that makes all the hip movements look like nothing, as they are buried in fat. My face is a puffy moon, too. Eyes lost in a shapeless pool of jelly.

I have nothing. I have no joy, no solace, no refuge, no purpose. Well, my job search is a purpose, but rather than a soothing one, it’s anxiety-provoking. Hence the need for cider for soothing. Not that high in calories, but displacing my nutrition.

Ashamed of my life, my body, my fail.

My dance-class buddy sounded so relaxed when talking about the conference. Sounded excited that it would be a great opportunity. But I doubt myself, as I suck with people. If it’s about “fit” and people hiring you because they like you, then fuck it I am doomed. People DON’T like me, probably because I fear and thus don’t like them, overall. I mean I could like them in a way, as individuals, but it’s not like with an animal. With an animal, I like them all from the start. If I don’t like one as an individual, I probably like them more than people. I start with good will, with animals. With people, I start with fear.

So much for filling my evenings with learning. Worked for a couple days. Lately I’m very stressed from the conference push. The other day, when I started this post, I had cider and burned my mouth on pizza! I felt ashamed, and almost ready to blush even now, but on the other hand I can credit myself that I am exercising more, generally eating well, and feel my body getting firmer, not larger. Just sometimes I feel the grossness of it all and it overwhelms me for a while.

The conference starts in the morning. I’ve prepared as best I can to be calm, professional, curious, and to make my requests and mention my various intentions to as many people as possible, but in an appropriate way that feels right. So, up to now it’s shame/fail, and I am going to keep marching through my fear, as usual.

Advertisements

Pizza and Marijuana

Gotta say that marijuana is all over the place up here in the Vancouver area. When I used to live on an upper floor and have my windows open all the time, I’d wake up half choking to death with a cotton mouth from the stuff coming in the windows. I’m not a smoker. I’ve smelled it when I’m driving, coming from the car in front of me. The reek blows down the street quite often. And I’ve definitely seen people smoking it at a bus stop numerous times. Pretty sure people do it at work.

So tonight I got a pizza from the grocery store. I don’t do this often, so I have to read the directions. After doing that, I’m thinking people are smoking marijuana in the pizza factory office where they make the label. It says right on there, at the bottom, “Refrigerate or discard unused portion.” Discard unused portion? Sounds like an instruction for canning liquid or epoxy resin. Who the heck ever threw out unused pizza? Okay, probably not a pothead, and maybe they were using something heavier in that office. Something that kills your appetite. Perhaps meth or crack.