Life according to Angry Pony has been a bit of a roller coaster lately. I've had some moments where I have wanted to blog about stuff, but have had the presence of mind to not do it. I mean, there is some stuff you don't have to know. That's what Valerina said. I mean, I don't care, but I suppose I should have some boundaries. Anyway, I've had a few moments of utter despair, some moments where I felt like everything was going to be okay, moments where I was losing my mind and other moments where I just checked out. Ultimately, I have survived, as I always do. Funny how that always seems to be the case. Shark Bait has been in the middle of most of the drama and has once again ridden out the storm. That guy may well deserve a kick in the ass sometimes (a lot), however, he should also be entitled to some sort of medal of honor. Maybe for Christmas I'll work on getting him one.
I don't really know what is causing the mental chaos, ultimately. I mean, on the surface, there is a lot of bullshit going on, but I am no stranger to bullshit. I practically use it as an exfoiliant and bathe in it daily. But, what is really going on? I've given it some thought and I think I have a few theories.
Why in the hell am I so scared of everything falling apart and allowing myself to worry all the time? Well, it could be one of a couple of things. First, after talking to my mom at length the other day, she suggested it could be that we are nearing End of Times. I mean, it seems the world is going to hell in a handbag, so seems like a plausible theory. If this is true, I really do need to spend less time worrying and more time enjoying a nice soft loaf of French bread (with butter), enjoying my ponies (when they are not sick with the flu), relaxing with the dogs watching The Ellen Show and being naked...not naked with the dogs, just naked in general. Really, I have a healthy relationship with my dogs, we have boundaries. Oh, and muscle relaxers, I need more. What I need to do less of is to spend less time going to work, going to the doctor trying to figure out what the hell is wrong with me and worrying about my future and if I have some sort of cancer. I mean, I don't think I have cancer, but how do I know I don't? I just read a thing the other day about the silent killer, ovarian cancer (or was it cervical? I don't know, but it was a vagina related cancer) and I had most of the symptoms. And, what is going on with my neck and the numbness? Is it a tumor? And, before anyone gets their panties jammed so far up their ass that they are practically dialing 911 to get them extracted, know that when I say these things about cancer, I'm not making light of it. I know how cancer kills, personally. I mean, I didn't die, personally, but people close to me have. So, relax your ass and those panties will come down on their own. I'm allowed to talk this out in ways that make sense to me. Lately so many people are getting upset about everything everyone says about health, politics, current events, etc. I know we are all uptight in this effed up world, but we all have to deal in our own way and writing my thoughts down, no matter how sarcastic or weird they may be is my way.
Another possibility for my anxiety, if it isn't End of Times, is that I have been trying to be more positive and that is scary for me. I don't usually get my hopes up and wish for things and believe in the possibilities. I usually survive through the tough times and try and make a difference for the future. So, being positive is the equivalent to putting my feet in the water, realizing it is too cold or too deep and then just saying, "I don't like water, I didn't want to go swimming anyway." So, maybe I'm anxious because I'm in new territory. I'm like the Pony Express guy riding his faithful pony through the wild west wondering if I can get the mail to Walnut Grove or if I will be scalped on the prairie left to be eaten by the wolves or, whatever, and what would happen to my pony? And the mail, what if some guy didn't get some mail from his girl and thought his girl didn't care, but she did, she sent a letter, but he doesn't know because the Pony Express guy got killed on the prairie and now he is never gonna get the letter, so he gives up, gets a new girlfriend and gets married and has kids and then one day the stagecoach comes in to town and the girl who sent the letters shows up with all her bags because she wants to be with him for the rest of their lives, but now she finds out he is married and she has no place to go and has to work at the local saloon and become a whore and her life is ruined because she has to have sex with One-Eyed Willie with erectile dysfunction and a foot fungus that the town doctor has tried to help him cure, but he can't. And now she has the fungus and so everyone calls her Itchy Irene and eventually she takes a walk down to the old water well and just dives in head first. Then, the town water supply is contaminated, because they can't get her out and pretty soon the whole town dies from disease and that's why they never got a major train station and no one ever came there again. And, now it's haunted. All this because the Pony Express guy was killed. Wait. What was I saying? Oh. yeah. So, anyway, it's likely I'm having anxiety because of attempting to step out of my comfort zone. I think those feelings I'm starting to have are called...(gulp)...hope. It leaves me wide open for heartbreak. I don't know how you hopeful people do it. I should read a self-help book or something.
What is also likely is that I'm having feelings of failure realizing that the year is coming to an end and I set a lot of goals for myself and I made plans and I had a vision of where I would be. I have had some set-backs this year, for sure. I started out strong. I learned that I am an athlete under all this cellulite. I learned that I could do things that I didn't think I could. And then my body broke and I am trying to recover. I'm not giving myself grace for that, but I probably should be. At any rate, I promised myself a little black dress moment in December and I know it isn't going to be what I wanted it to be. And before anyone says, "look how far you've come!" or "don't beat yourself up," or whatever. I'm not trying to be mean to myself, I'm just talking through how Angry Pony feels and as The Rug Doctor says, "those feelings are valid." Look, we all have disappointments. I'm allowed to feel disappointed. Doesn't mean I'm not going to keep fighting, I will. I can't not fight. I don't know any other way. I'm like that fat girl in Silence of the Lambs stuck down in that pit in Wild Bill's basement. I'm down there with my lotion, trying to not get the hose again and things look pretty freaking grim, but damn it, I'm still gonna try and climb out or coax that mother trucker's dog down that hole. I'm not going to be anyone's woman suit without trying everything in my power to stop it. And, I'm going to get soft skin during the process. Bonus!
So, what's the plan to calm the fuck down? Drugs. Just kidding. I don't have any. And to those that have suggested I should get some "herbal" help, no thank you. I'm fine. What I am going to do is let go of the 2014 -Year of the Angry Pony. I'm going to attempt to embrace the Life of Angry Pony, not just a year that doesn't represent anything more than a period of time now behind me. I don't know if I will do a black dress experience this year, or not. I'm going to take the pressure off. I'm going to try and enjoy fragments of time and not add expectations to those moments, or days, or weeks. I'll take them as the come and deal with whatever follows. I'm not going to stress over the holidays and tell myself that I hate them as I have for many years now. I'm going to find one thing to do each weekend that embraces the holiday spirit, even if that thing is me asking Shark Bait one more time if he will wear a red union suit and allow us and the dogs to all be in union suits for our Christmas card picture. Or, maybe we watch Christmas Vacation, or go look at Christmas trees. We will not live based on anyone else's expectations, we will take time to be together and enjoy the season, no matter how commercial it is. It isn't going to be epically romantic. It's going to be moments of relaxation and joy.
And, maybe, just maybe I'll wear my boots that make me walk like a prostitute and maybe wear something black. Maybe it will be a dress. I don't know. That's the great part of taking it moment by moment, right? This is the plan anyway. This is the immediate, short-term goal. Gonna try it, cuz if I don't, I'll likely implode. Angry Pony guts...everywhere. No one needs to see that.
This concludes tonight's deep thoughts and my theories. I mean, there are a ton of other ones, but as you can see from my Pony Express digression above, it might take some time to get them all written out and expressed. There is a lot of stuff going on in this head. This blog is just remnants of steam seeping out. You are welcome for me repressing as much as I have.
Now, go hug someone or something and enjoy a moment. No less, no more.
I don't really know what is causing the mental chaos, ultimately. I mean, on the surface, there is a lot of bullshit going on, but I am no stranger to bullshit. I practically use it as an exfoiliant and bathe in it daily. But, what is really going on? I've given it some thought and I think I have a few theories.
Why in the hell am I so scared of everything falling apart and allowing myself to worry all the time? Well, it could be one of a couple of things. First, after talking to my mom at length the other day, she suggested it could be that we are nearing End of Times. I mean, it seems the world is going to hell in a handbag, so seems like a plausible theory. If this is true, I really do need to spend less time worrying and more time enjoying a nice soft loaf of French bread (with butter), enjoying my ponies (when they are not sick with the flu), relaxing with the dogs watching The Ellen Show and being naked...not naked with the dogs, just naked in general. Really, I have a healthy relationship with my dogs, we have boundaries. Oh, and muscle relaxers, I need more. What I need to do less of is to spend less time going to work, going to the doctor trying to figure out what the hell is wrong with me and worrying about my future and if I have some sort of cancer. I mean, I don't think I have cancer, but how do I know I don't? I just read a thing the other day about the silent killer, ovarian cancer (or was it cervical? I don't know, but it was a vagina related cancer) and I had most of the symptoms. And, what is going on with my neck and the numbness? Is it a tumor? And, before anyone gets their panties jammed so far up their ass that they are practically dialing 911 to get them extracted, know that when I say these things about cancer, I'm not making light of it. I know how cancer kills, personally. I mean, I didn't die, personally, but people close to me have. So, relax your ass and those panties will come down on their own. I'm allowed to talk this out in ways that make sense to me. Lately so many people are getting upset about everything everyone says about health, politics, current events, etc. I know we are all uptight in this effed up world, but we all have to deal in our own way and writing my thoughts down, no matter how sarcastic or weird they may be is my way.
Another possibility for my anxiety, if it isn't End of Times, is that I have been trying to be more positive and that is scary for me. I don't usually get my hopes up and wish for things and believe in the possibilities. I usually survive through the tough times and try and make a difference for the future. So, being positive is the equivalent to putting my feet in the water, realizing it is too cold or too deep and then just saying, "I don't like water, I didn't want to go swimming anyway." So, maybe I'm anxious because I'm in new territory. I'm like the Pony Express guy riding his faithful pony through the wild west wondering if I can get the mail to Walnut Grove or if I will be scalped on the prairie left to be eaten by the wolves or, whatever, and what would happen to my pony? And the mail, what if some guy didn't get some mail from his girl and thought his girl didn't care, but she did, she sent a letter, but he doesn't know because the Pony Express guy got killed on the prairie and now he is never gonna get the letter, so he gives up, gets a new girlfriend and gets married and has kids and then one day the stagecoach comes in to town and the girl who sent the letters shows up with all her bags because she wants to be with him for the rest of their lives, but now she finds out he is married and she has no place to go and has to work at the local saloon and become a whore and her life is ruined because she has to have sex with One-Eyed Willie with erectile dysfunction and a foot fungus that the town doctor has tried to help him cure, but he can't. And now she has the fungus and so everyone calls her Itchy Irene and eventually she takes a walk down to the old water well and just dives in head first. Then, the town water supply is contaminated, because they can't get her out and pretty soon the whole town dies from disease and that's why they never got a major train station and no one ever came there again. And, now it's haunted. All this because the Pony Express guy was killed. Wait. What was I saying? Oh. yeah. So, anyway, it's likely I'm having anxiety because of attempting to step out of my comfort zone. I think those feelings I'm starting to have are called...(gulp)...hope. It leaves me wide open for heartbreak. I don't know how you hopeful people do it. I should read a self-help book or something.
What is also likely is that I'm having feelings of failure realizing that the year is coming to an end and I set a lot of goals for myself and I made plans and I had a vision of where I would be. I have had some set-backs this year, for sure. I started out strong. I learned that I am an athlete under all this cellulite. I learned that I could do things that I didn't think I could. And then my body broke and I am trying to recover. I'm not giving myself grace for that, but I probably should be. At any rate, I promised myself a little black dress moment in December and I know it isn't going to be what I wanted it to be. And before anyone says, "look how far you've come!" or "don't beat yourself up," or whatever. I'm not trying to be mean to myself, I'm just talking through how Angry Pony feels and as The Rug Doctor says, "those feelings are valid." Look, we all have disappointments. I'm allowed to feel disappointed. Doesn't mean I'm not going to keep fighting, I will. I can't not fight. I don't know any other way. I'm like that fat girl in Silence of the Lambs stuck down in that pit in Wild Bill's basement. I'm down there with my lotion, trying to not get the hose again and things look pretty freaking grim, but damn it, I'm still gonna try and climb out or coax that mother trucker's dog down that hole. I'm not going to be anyone's woman suit without trying everything in my power to stop it. And, I'm going to get soft skin during the process. Bonus!
So, what's the plan to calm the fuck down? Drugs. Just kidding. I don't have any. And to those that have suggested I should get some "herbal" help, no thank you. I'm fine. What I am going to do is let go of the 2014 -Year of the Angry Pony. I'm going to attempt to embrace the Life of Angry Pony, not just a year that doesn't represent anything more than a period of time now behind me. I don't know if I will do a black dress experience this year, or not. I'm going to take the pressure off. I'm going to try and enjoy fragments of time and not add expectations to those moments, or days, or weeks. I'll take them as the come and deal with whatever follows. I'm not going to stress over the holidays and tell myself that I hate them as I have for many years now. I'm going to find one thing to do each weekend that embraces the holiday spirit, even if that thing is me asking Shark Bait one more time if he will wear a red union suit and allow us and the dogs to all be in union suits for our Christmas card picture. Or, maybe we watch Christmas Vacation, or go look at Christmas trees. We will not live based on anyone else's expectations, we will take time to be together and enjoy the season, no matter how commercial it is. It isn't going to be epically romantic. It's going to be moments of relaxation and joy.
And, maybe, just maybe I'll wear my boots that make me walk like a prostitute and maybe wear something black. Maybe it will be a dress. I don't know. That's the great part of taking it moment by moment, right? This is the plan anyway. This is the immediate, short-term goal. Gonna try it, cuz if I don't, I'll likely implode. Angry Pony guts...everywhere. No one needs to see that.
This concludes tonight's deep thoughts and my theories. I mean, there are a ton of other ones, but as you can see from my Pony Express digression above, it might take some time to get them all written out and expressed. There is a lot of stuff going on in this head. This blog is just remnants of steam seeping out. You are welcome for me repressing as much as I have.
Now, go hug someone or something and enjoy a moment. No less, no more.
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