Once upon a time I decided to wean myself off the fairy tale ideal.
It wasn’t upon a time, it was last week.
Universe is making it really difficult, but I am pushing through.
Standing back, burying myself in work, allowing the Zen tasks at hand to do what they do and having little aha moments.
I heard Angela by the Lumineers last year I think…
Danced to it on stage a lot. Like a lot a lot. Something about it made me able to slip away into my happy place, even though it made me sad.
It always kinda fucked me up.
I stopped listening to it as obsessively as I had been. New songs joined the ranks of the overplayed and nudged it out. I stopped dancing 2 months ago now, so it was just kinda fading away.
102.1 the Edge just started playing it as ‘new’.
Was not in a good place when I first heard it and I was continually mishearing the lyrics, “hope it lasts”.
When it’s actually Home at Last.
From the second time around, they raise you up just to cut you down, oh Angela it’s a long time comin’.
I think, all things considered, it is going to take me longer than I thought to quit the idea of a prince charming comin’ to get me.
That comforting, yet ever elusive idea of Home at last.
I know I don’t need rescuing, I got that covered. I can get myself out of 99% of the messes I get into and I can change my own tires thank you very much.
I opened the barn doors and let all of the proverbial stallions out. I stopped caring, they were going to do what they wanted anyways, always have. And none of it involves sticking around.
I said I was done, and was met with a rousing chorus of “no’s”.
Apparently I’m not allowed to be celibate because according to my magic mama Liza, my aura gets too spikey and pokey.
Another one of my lovelies (my loveliest lovely) said “You are a sex eater, you can’t…starve.”
Valid point. I have been known to starve myself both literally and figuratively. Remember February?
I was so hungry.
Somewhere along the way I got tangled up in that fairy tale idea again. Started making them more than they are, which, when I’m lucky, is really good food. Other times, just a snack and often just a slice of pizza when I am starving.
This is what she said…
So I recently told my therapist I was a sex and relationship addict and I was going to quit cold turkey.
He’s a smart cookie, and he told me “I don’t believe in pathogolizing either of those things. It’s normal to want sex, and it’s normal to want connection and intimacy. What isn’t normal is letting the desire for those things let you make bad decisions.”
He told me to focus on the decisions I was making, and not how much sex/dating I was having/doing. And it’s really helped.
I’ll never stop being addicted to touch and electricity and people and attention. But so fucking what? What I’ve /finally/ stopped doing is letting the people who give me those things control me or cage me or make me miserable.
I have been allowing them to make me miserable.
Technically it is no one’s fault but my own.
I could have blocked them, changed my number, made an effort to forget them. Crawled under a new one to get over the old. Gone to therapy and talked them out, gone to yoga and sweated them out. Anything really.
My sex-eater metabolism has become sluggish. Too many months of fast food and no real nutrients.
I will starve myself for a bit, a cleanse is necessary. I will get closer to god, drop some dead weight and come back to the table clean.
I won’t just eat what is put in front of me, I will make better choices.
And I don’t mind this song anymore.
Especially this part.
Vacancy, hotel room, lost in me, lost in you
Angela, on my knees, I belong, I believe…
Home at last