Friday the 13th
The rage is boiling in me. I can't stand to see him standing there, in constant prayer. To hear him breathing methodically next to me. To touch me on my back, gently grabbing my jacket like I'm on leash. I just want to flee.
I'm also annoyed, to be fair, at the stupid slow drivers, and the clueless people getting in my way. I'm annoyed looking at people eating delicious, hot, cooked food like its nothing, while I gulp down my next serving of cold juice on a cold day.
Maybe in another universe I'll be healthy enough to build muscle. To be a happy people person, and to actually go out and do stuff. To be happy to see people, and them happy to see me. To actually look and vibe health. To have it not be mistaken, but just glowing, pouring off of me.
I'm pissed. My gallbladder is pissed. I'm pissed that I have to go through another tour of crazy-town with my fuckin' husband. Because it does get easier, but it doesn't get less painful.
I'm pissed because I have to do all this fucking work, just to get to neutral, to zero. And it's still a long way up from there.
I'm pissed that my body can't stand anything less than 80 degrees Fahrenheit. I resent what a cold block of ice my body is, and how inept I am to live in my own climate.
I was craving coffee like a motherfucker this morning. I didn't cave in. I had my Dandyblend. I had my roasted dandelion tea. I had my juice, my water, my ginseng, and my other tea. I did not cave in. I did, just before leaving work, notice a pot of coffee brewed in the breakroom. I poured just a sip, which didn't taste as good as I had dreamt it would. That's good. It also wasn't great coffee. I'm spoiled by my Andodyne blends.
Tomorrow's a new day. Have a 3-day weekend ahead, which is good, because I need the extra rest badly. Today is Day 16 of the juice fast. Apart from dealing with my husband's physic break this week, just being short of sleep while cleansing is enough. It's just enough. My body is doing a lot of work, cleansing and fasting. That's a big job. I'm doing my best to support it, but it's not easy. Not when you're working. Not when you have to deal with your husband's slipping grip of reality.
Of course, that's the rub – I don't know who has more of a grip on reality, him or me. I could be the one missing out. That would piss me off, too. But I imagine the true reality is somewhere between us. Neither of us has it 100% correct. But we can help correct each other, pull each other back from our own precipices, back to our core selves. That's the best thing about us as a couple, as a marriage, and as a spiritual union: we balance each other out. So I'm trying to ride this wave – my own irritable wave, my destressing, my detoxing, my cranky, hangry, tired state – and whateverthefuckthisis that my husband is going through. If I can make it through, it will be better on the other side, I know.
I just have to have faith. Just get through it. Ride the wave. Don't curse out your husband. Don't drink the caffeinated coffee. Don't space out and eat something absent-mindedly. And don't try to solve problems that aren't yours to solve. Give it to God, and mean it. Leave it to God. Don't get your sticky fingers back in there and meddle with it. Just surrender, for real. Just let it go. Let it go. Let. It. Go.
Thank you Jesus. Amen.