Friday 22 November 2013

Nasty Me

Nasty Me?

  I've told you before that every now and then Nasty Me likes to show her face.  Well, in recent weeks she's been in a battle to assert herself, waiting not so quietly just below the surface for those juicy moments that fulfill her purposes.  I'm not going to lie to make myself feel better and lead you falsely into believing that it has been easy to keep a lid on her.  No, she's a definite challenge, and one, that at moments, I have lost the battle to control.
  I don't see red, I don't shout, kick or scream.  I laugh, (a maniacal sound to my mind).  I smile broadly, laugh, and choke on the nastiness, swallowing hard as my body wars, in a tense structure of raging bone and sinew, to keep her from taking control....mostly I send daggers with my eyes.
  It doesn't sound so threatening, does it?
  No big, bad wolf here.
  Only to me it's the absolute worst.  Worse than unwelcome tears, frustration, or fear.  It's a war I'm not even sure in many moments that I want to win.  I want to be angry.  I want to kick and scream and fight; like the toddler who doesn't get her way.  That's what I want to become; it's terrible, that feeling, but worse is the apologizing, the making amends and repairing the fallout damage; the way my own spirit takes the hit.
  Last night I slipped and she came out to play, in the smallest way.  I saw the scene, the flashes before my eyes, heard the nasty tone and words that threatened to slip from my lips, but I held my tongue, I breathed through the storm and when I got home, after a large amount of seriously focused breathing, I turned the music up loud, told my teenager I was in a seriously bad mood, though we still had amicable conversation before I warned him I was going to turn angsty music up real loud! (Sadly, that was my Nasty, always with a smile)
  And then I danced.  Yes, I danced.  A frightening scene unto itself, but I moved and sang along to those angst filled words until I got it out.  Nasty Me was corralled, subdued; the prisoner was detained.  Or maybe it's best viewed like this; the prisoner was released and Nasty Me was taken into custody to have her intents, her sins, reviewed at a later date. 
  I don't like Nasty Me, she defeats me, she drains me, she sucks the joy in life out of me.  She is poison.

  I don't have any way to correlate this bizarre compilation of words into a nice, neat looking Christmas parcel.  I have no positive spin today.
  Nope.
  I've got nothing.
  I'm feeling a little wrung out.
  Sometimes I just need to get the words out.  Purge them from my head, my heart and my spirit, and you all are the lucky ones to receive my form of expression, though I'm quaking in my boots that this particular forum is how I've chosen to spill the beans.  Especially since only a very small, select group of people get to see all of me....a VERY small, select group.
  I'm still on this journey of trying to be brutally honest with myself, and lucky you, I'm taking you with me.....for the most part.
  I'm doing my best to be raw. 
  To be open.
  To share what I FEEL.
  It's hard, it hurts at moments, it's vulnerability at every turn and I'm not sure I want to do it, but fear is a sneaky wench, so I think I have to, I don't want to live with even the smallest sliver of fear.  
  
  I just don't know if I know how.
  
  This is my start, Nasty Me included.  I suppose in a way it is also my confession and declaration of holding on to a promise.

  Happy Friday, folks.

  

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