Insane And Unencumbranced

Sometimes I am amazed that I, and many of the people I know, have not already been locked away in some dark padded cell or perhaps been so kind as to prove Darwin right by eliminating our weaknesses from the gene pool. Before you say anything, no, I am not feeling suicidal. I am just reflecting upon my past, my present, and my perceived future, and realizing that I am actually quite the opposite of sane much of the time.

Take my current obsession as of late: If you non-existent readers will remember, a few months ago I was concerned that I was either pregnant or had something wrong with my reproductive system. Well, my periods came back, and the home pregnancy tests had all been negative anyway, so there is no reason at all whatsoever for me to be concerned about pregnancy, and my weight being what it is could explain my temporary irregularities. So if all of this is the case, why exactly am I perusing various websites and forums reading every single article, blog, and posting about women who had negative urine and blood tests, or even had ultrasounds that showed no baby or showed miscarriage and then gave birth later on to a baby that had been there all along. Why am I obsessed with learning about this 1 in 5000 chance that a woman could carry to term without knowing for sure she was pregnant because the doctors told her she wasn’t? Wishful thinking or just plain insanity?

In other less crazy-proving news, I am excited about going back to school este semestre. Well, maybe this also proves I’m crazy. I mean, every semester I whine about school, yet I keep re-enrolling, keep pushing myself. I take the max load each time, then complain about the workload. The funny thing is, if I’d just shut the fuck up and ignore my self-doubt and do the work and stay organized and on task, I could actually be a strait A student. So this semester I have plans to stay organized. I really want to do this…hopefully I will. I need Robert to pick up my School supplies either tomorrow morning or Monday morning. If I give him a very detailed list I am sure he’ll be doing that for me, maybe.

If I am crazy, it truly is not my fault. I’m quite certain it’s genetic. I just found out today that one of my relatives has chosen to join the ranks of spouse-batterers. I am not going into any more details because it is not my story to tell, but it really bothers me. I feel like this person should seek help. From what I understand the spouse is saying it wasn’t the abuser’s fault. Lots of battered spouses do that, blame themselves rather than the abuser. I know that this person had a hard life, but that is still no excuse for harming a loved one. If they both got therapy they could save their marriage if they wanted to, but they maybe shouldn’t try. I mean, I would leave at the first punch…well after I beat the person right back, but I do know some women who are really in love and know their husband has true mental problems and they will work through it and twenty years later the husband hasn’t ever done it again and they’re both fine.

Robert’s never been physically abusive, but he’s been emotionally abusive, but I honestly think we’re moving ahead. Have you ever heard that phrase, “You can’t love someone else til you love yourself”? Well, it used to annoy me, but I know that I need to fix all of my own problems, so I can be a better lover. I hate being fat, so I need to fix that. I hate being disorganized, so I need to fix that. I have always had low self-esteem though, but I really felt sexy when I was a size 16. I have always been a flirt, but in my head I used to tell myself that the guys flirting back were doing it for a laugh or a dare or something and couldn’t possibly be interested in me, but when I was a size 16 and guys flirted, I think I exuded self-confidence and I glowed and I felt liked rather than the brunt of a joke.

Here lately I don’t exercise enough though, and I weigh 265lbs. There are some exercises I choose to do. I like to listen to my MP3player now that I have one and kind of dance. I used to crank up my boom box and dance when I was a teen. I do the dances that I would NEVER do in public, the stripper dancing and such. Not really stripping, but the moves they do or belly dancing, hula, dirty dancing, lots of gyrating and muscles working. None of that silly spinning in slow circles crap. I know dance is a highly effective method, but I probably don’t do it routinely enough. In addition to the dancing, though, I am trying to work other things into my habits. One thing I do not do enough anymore but plan to start again is walking.

I love walking outside when there is nowhere to BE, you know? Aimless wandering. I am a Gypsy soul. When I lived with Robert way back when and he was working nights I would leave the house in the middle of the night. Barefoot. Wearing loose cotton clothing and no bra or panties cause they’re too binding. And I would go walking or running. I would walk for miles and miles. And hours later I’d find my way home. And he’d come home in the morning to find me asleep fully clothed on the couch cause I’d had a long night, lol. I know that’s dangerous, but I was around 19 at the time, and didn’t really worry about it. My feet were very strong from that. I think that’s how we were meant to be. Unencumbranced.

Virgin Steele–Little Janey’s got a crazy walk, rock and roller, leather vixen talk. She moves so fine. Belladonna with an angel heart, topless dancer, Paris pearls. She’s hot underneath the lights.

View the full blog at heartchasms.blogspot.com and like the blog on Facebook.

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