“Trying to make progress on one end, the wolf goes into my bedroom and pees on my one favorite rug – resulting in my having to haul it out from under my heavy bed and basically tear apart my bedroom and clean the rug outside as an unwanted side project.
It has been ‘marked’ now and it will become a target, forever, if I keep it.”
“No more carpet!”
“I would like to say that things are back to norm, but there’s a lot of damage to attend to.”
“Balance in my life?”
“To be hurt.”
“When I feel like giving up, I must remember.”
“Today is my first time hearing of this word that describes the action of someone who loves you sending little notes, pictures, etc., as a form of affection because something lovingly reminds them of you during a 24 hour period.
They are coining this as a type “neurotypical” behavior that is positive, but possibly misunderstood by “normals.”
I thought that this type of consideration was just a way of indulging romantic nuance behavior – so I guess that they are saying that romance is neurotypical?
Who are those emotionaly critical analysts?
Monoculturalists?”
“My face does not usually get pimples because I keep my system in good regulation.
One on my chin certifies fumes’ constant exposure.”
“Do you want your life to get better?
Then get off your a** and make it better.
Already doing that and ‘sh** out of luck?’
File your complaints, push back – and then, again – get off your a** and do something about it.”
“It tells me that I must rehome the animals.
But I know how we got here, so the armor must be redonned.
No matter the weight nor how I wished to stop fighting.
The cortisol rush comes flooding again as my body gets even thicker with more density.
I must learn to welcome it, for my life is not getting ‘better.'”
“When the wolf barks, it shocks my heart.
When the hound whines, it causes anxiety.
When the cat yowls, I am told it’s not enough.”
A hollowed distance kept her vigilance.
She needed more – but had to keep giving more, instead, carving out and bleeding dry vital internal space that was meant to give and receive loving, but now knew only how to give while sealing up to shore inwardly breaking walls against total collapsing.
For why basic survival keeps demanding more, and stress levels keep ramping.
“But on levels, hating it and PTSD-twitching.”
Even if she could sneak past using the bathroom without signaling the dogs to start barking to be let out, kids running, parents vacuuming, laughing and then cussing at 8am – basically literally hitting their ground running and living fully in pounding life colors tromping onto one’s ceiling and into walls surrounding – are guaranteed to get the cat yowling and dogs demanding why they have not yet been included from that family’s clomps of being let out, yet.
“Oh, that’s why it also reeks at the head of my bed.
The fumes are also being drawn into my room through the electrical outlet.”
“Somewhere between the cogs of the machine with its greasy, gritty, tarlike oil builtup stale and rusty-dusty from the tears of so many generations before us as its gears grind onward, hungrily waiting for each one of us to slip and fall to our own demise of being dragged under and ground up as grisled lubricant while life gets compressed and squeezed out of us…
Somewhere in this hellish mockery of an “advanced civilization,” we must learn at first how to just merely survive, and then, if we figure out how to generally predict the system’s patterns and practice how dodging and weaving to avoid succumbing, we can – despite being unwilling victims – thrive.”
“Have I accomplished?”
“Growly-fierce impatience mixed with fears’ trepidation.”
“I can smell strong urine – even after having sprayed the orange deodorizing mist.
Where are the rewards?
Where are the rewards?!“
“And already, emails about late bills and pending cancelations- ‘your last notice!’ – jacking up more cortisol are flooding in.
That’s it…
My ringer us getting turned off until I’m ready to deal with the world.
“I know that when I have someone to love, there can be a buffer that helps to shelter me.
But I have not been more than partially loved, so how is still a mystery.”
“I can be one.”
“Why couldn’t my reason for waking be good instead of for sh** to clean up?!”
“Self analyzing in a type of critical judgement as my body quivers with adrenaline from being slammed into furious overdrive when I need to – instead – still be sleeping.”
“Sunrise treck – and I am livid.”
“Having to fully dress and walk the dogs out at distance to make sure no more messes happen in the next hour because I no longer have the privacy of my own yard.
‘And we were grate-ful…'”
“Then I get angry at 5:30am when my wolf pees on the floor, making the unit reek, and I have to mop it up.
I am just so fed up with this cortisol emergency jag treadmill!”
“I am bolt-wide awake at 5am.”
“I’m not depressed – but longterm vexed.”
“Yep! Got me groovin’ – and then my hypervigilance smoothed, and I am now able to fall asleep.
In other words, it broke my mind-locked loop so that I can now shift phases.”
“Everything is just work…toil…effort…struggle…!”
“No matter what you do, you can’t get the pieces together?”
(As a precious bag of dog food rips open as lifted from the shopàping cart…)
“Working on ‘problems,’ waiting for my love to come home…”
The toxins from the fumes kept inundating her system, pressing upon and into lungs, puffing blanching skin, and muddling cognition.
But she had no other place to try to rest and so succumbed to the realization that somehow she must adapt, trading sleep for deeper infusion.
“When will the stress back off?”
“If we do not allow this reboot, we ‘explode.'”
“Finding a large, unused garbage bag for the kitchen bin.”
“It will find every weak spot in your planiest of planee-plans…
In fact, if you do not counter-plan, your house will come tumbling down around you.”
“I’m more of a private cottage with my garden and enclosed yard type of person.”
Listen to From Above And Within 5.28.26 by Candid Corvid Productions on #SoundCloud
https://on.soundcloud.com/QTy0Vis5iO8mQnk7Kg
“Bit**.”
Candid Corvid Productions 