Last year, on yet another one of those days when I didn’t want to get up and function but also really wanted to get up and function, I forced myself to get up and GO. My husband wanted to take me out anywhere, just to get out of the house. I decided–fuck it, I’m going.

We ended up heading into downtown Columbus to look for a snake ring.

I had recently had a dream where a 3 headed snake was snapping at people, trying to keep them away from me. Appropriate dream for the time. Part of my healing from pelvic pain resulted in taking myself off the “I’ll do anything to help you” list for literally anyone who ever asked. Hell, I was so programmed to be a people pleaser that I frequently invented ways to go out of my way to make everyone else’s lives brighter.

Anyway, the snake came to symbolize to me a way of remembering to say “BACK THE HELL UP FROM ME”.

So, Bill and I looked for a snake in a few vintage shops. Saw a couple of things, and didn’t really care for any of them.

(More on my snake soon…his story doesn’t end there)

As we poked around an antique shop, my husband called me over to look inside a case and pointed out a silver crescent moon pendant necklace to me. He asked me if I liked it. I said I did and it was pretty, but it wasn’t what I was looking for. So we moved on.

About one second later, Bill turned and went back to the case. He said:

This looks like something you would wear. I’m going to get it for you.

He had the dude working the counter take it out and hold it for us and that necklace turned out to be the only thing we bought that day. I had to go home after we finished perusing that shop–my body was starting to hurt.

Still, there are three victories in this story:

1. I got out of the house for a change of scenery.

2. The moon necklace Bill bought me that day is pretty much my favorite piece of jewelry. I never, ever take it off. I get bunches of compliments on it.

and

3. My husband is a sweetheart. He loves me to the moon and back.

The feeling is mutual.

image_568309974343456

Holy hell.

This book is talking about ME.

Have you guys ever heard of Dr. John Sarno?

I’ve been looking for ways to feel better for months now. I read this guy’s other book “Healing Back Pain” and now I’ve moved on to this.

I think I’m on to something.

Repressed feelings. Rage. Anxiety.

<raising hand>

PRESENT!

I’ll tell you more as I get into it more, but this morning over my cup of coffee, I’m reading and I’m going–yep. yep. yep.

Interesting stuff.

In other news, I downloaded all my pics I’ve posted on Facebook and I closed my page down. I, like everyone else, have a love/hate relationship with Facebook. Some stuff and people I love to see. Most of it, though, I hate. And I get really emotionally upset when I read stuff I hate or I think is stupid.

I finally decided–I’m removing that negativity from my life for now. It can’t be helping me get better, feeling anger like I do over some of the stuff I see there.

That makes me a “snowflake”, I know.

Good. I like snowflakes. I’d rather be a snowflake than an asshole.

See? I mean, what kind of concept is that even? Without Facebook, I would have never known I am what some people would call a snowflake, and not in a good way.

It’s going to be hard to stay away. But I’m going to for my mental and physical health.

In my last little piece of fun info for the day, I got my belly-button pierced the other night. Just for funsies. Bill and I went out to dinner, I was feeling good, and yes I was a little tipsy.

I had my belly-button pierced back when I was 30 and I saw that super-cute Fiona Apple in her “Criminal” video. Cute flat tummy, pierced navel.

At the time, I was a young mom of 2, thinking my tummy wasn’t as cute as hers. Looking back on it now it probably was. I took that piercing out when I got sick of it–I don’t know, like over 10 years ago.

Hey, remember when Joan Osborne came out with that song about God and had the hoop in her nose? It was like the same time. I read that hoop was fake. Still–everyone started piercing shit, remember?

So we went last Friday night and I did it again.

Now I KNOW my tummy ain’t what it used to be in the way of sexy young girl flat stomachs, but guess what. I no longer give a fuck if I actually look my age. Because guess what?

I’m 50.

And I know now that my body is way more than something for other people to look at.

My body has gotten me this far in 50 years and she and I have had a hard year this year. I’m going to be overly-good and kind to myself for a change.

So I bought myself a hole for my navel and stuck my birthstone in it.

Cute. And hey, I cleaned that thing up before I took this pic. It was bloody and rather gnarly.

So anyway-thanks for reading today. I’m going to go back to my book and read more about suppressing rage. And then later I’m going to my friends’ house to celebrate Ostara.

Springtime, you bitch. Where you been? I’m glad you’re back. I need you and your breath of fresh air.

šŸ’š