anxiety, crazy, happiness, health, life, mind, psychology

Dealing with Stress

deal_with_anxiety

How do you spoil yourself?  – I was curious since my girlfriend was always tense: tight jaw, intense look, back spasms, and the ongoing fight-flight-and-freeze demeanor.

What do you mean?

 – You seem to live under too much stress all the time.

 – Don’t you get that I gotta work?  – She sounded awkwardly defensive and desperate trying to excuse her being in the worry box 24/7.

 – How do you spoil yourself? – I repeated the question soaking a chamomile tea bag in the water.

 I have no idea, Vixen, never thought about it. What do you do for yourself?

Everything that makes me happy.

 – My job makes me happy.

– Good for you, – I finished my tea and went home, she focused on her financial reports.

When we met later that year, she looked different; no eye puffiness, no extra weight, no shortness of breath. She sounded sincere thanking me for the compliment on her appearance. Her response to my “what do you do to look beautiful?” was “I am dealing with anxiety”.

She learned to allow herself not to think too much, substituting excessive worries over performance. reviews and audits for daily treadmill running and fresh water.

She started practicing thoughts stopping focusing on breathing in and breathing out.

She overcame the fear of socializing and took several drum lessons from street musicians; rhythmic hand drumming helped relax almost getting her into trance.

She developed the habit to daily watch sunsets.

She de-stressed while coloring pages with fluorescent pencils.

She pampered herself with home foot-spa and stone massage.

She started her Mondays holding sea shells to her ears listening to the sound of waves.

She finished her busy days with sandalwood incense and meditation music in the headphones.

She stopped sacrificing the “me time” for Friday parties.

She quit drinking and totally replaced alcohol with purified water and tummy workouts.

She put valerian root in the bedroom to improve her sleep and discontinued watching action TV shows prior going to bed.

I did not respond much to her “I decided to prioritize myself, life is too short not to indulge” since she was perfectly right.

 

crazy, life, love, mind, psychology, relationships

The Ideal Woman

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After my friend broke up with his recent date, he was plagued and desperate.

 – What was the deal breaker this same?  – I knew the answer but faked curiosity since he needed someone to be here for him, someone to talk to, he looked totally distressed and heart-broken.

 – She was a classic gold-digger.

 – Why?

 – She never gave me blowjobs unless I bought her gifts.

 – You look so damn sad.

 – Of course, I am, – he was crumpling up an empty plastic bottle, nervously dejected, breathlessly discouraged.

 – Sounds like your previous one. You kept saying she loved money more than yourself.

 – Correct, and she was a whore. She looked at other guys, and she was clearly not over her ex-husband.

 – The one who was before your ‘whore’, – I paused suppressing a giggle,  – you told me she was all over you like white on rice

 – Who, Maggie? She was freaking obsessive. She followed me with her ‘I love you’ bull 24/7.

 – Stephanie?

 – Lazy bitch

 – Jen?

 – Liar

 – Wait, – our conversation started giving me headaches, – wait, what about me?

 – What about you? – he quickly threw the crushed bottle in the bin and came very close.

His smell was painfully familiar and brought memories; him and I, mountains and water, sex and cold breakfasts. I slowly stepped back, pounding heart, dry lips, and shaky hands.

 – We were together, what was I?

 – You were one of the biggest disappointments in my life, – he took a step forward, I stepped backward again, unwilling to further feel his smell and recall the past, our past together.

 – How come?

 – You only care about sex and money. You are extremely worldly, and I need a godly woman, I need the princess not a greedy hooker.

– Thanks.

 – Wait! you are a great friend… you will always be my friend, Vixen. 

I know.

I had bad news for him, the news that he would never find what he had been looking for all these years.  Somehow, he fell for the fictional girl’s image blindly and obstinately chasing the illusion, feeling angry and disheartened every time the princess turned out to be an average female who expected gifts, loved money, choked on semen, and hid acne with her make-up. He wanted the goddess but met live human beings fearful and insecure with the unrealistic expectations to find the knight in shining armor so he would take care of the bills and practice monogamous sex under the blanket.

 – I am hopeful you will find your princess one day, – I did not mean it, I knew it would never happen. I was just lying straight to his face, smiling, and hoping that one day he will come back, pay my rent and care about my orgasms.        

     

happiness, life, love, mind, psychology, relationships

I Am Average

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 – You are very predictable and pedestrian, why am I even talking to you? – Jim was furious. He was always furious around me. I made him extremely angry all the time; angry and horny. I kept telling him we are incompatible, and we should break up, but he never listened.

 – I do not know why you are still with me, maybe you like the way I f*ck?

 – Hell no, sex with you is mediocre.

 – I have no idea than, – I shrugged my shoulders, – You can always leave.

 – If I leave now, you will never see me again, is this what you want?      

 He was right I am very average.

I kill 8 hours of my day in the office, work out several times a week to keep my butt firm and round, drink water to reduce the appetite, and am quiet to look smart.

I love money, chocolate, and flirting with my dentist.

I hate Mondays and crave for Friday evenings 6 days a week.

I routinely pay my bills, desperately fight my age, and love guys who take care of my needs.

I bleach my teeth, dream of a long vacation in Italy, and smell glossy pages of fashion magazines in beauty salons.

I have two hands, two legs, one head, one pussy, money anxiety, and retinol creams on my nightstand.

I am boringly predictable, worldly, and dispickably non-special. I am just an average-looking girl focused on raising the kid and cutting back on carbs, sugar, and salt.

I am an average person having happy moments and issues like everyone else, not trying to lie to myself about extraordinary abilities, special skills, ever-lasting youth, and other crap.

I just live my life aching from push-ups, watching sunsets, and growing roses neither bragging nor complaining about my mediocrity.

 – You love me Jim, – he dragged his gaze away from stocks trackers in his iPhone, tired and crestfallen.

 – Now what?

 – You love me because I am very average.

anxiety, happiness, life, mind, psychology, relationships

Spontaneous Versus Consistent

spontainety

– He is spontaneous, it’s so sweet, we will get married soon.

 I quietly shook my head. Saying anything at that moment would be pointless. My girlfriend was deaf and blind to common sense.

They met a month before, he immediately introduced her to his dick, friends, and family. Every time he would call her “My angel” she melted, closing her eyes and picturing a huge beachfront home with 3 children and a chocolate Labrador.

When I asked what he does for living, she just shrugged her shoulders.  – It does not matter Vixen. He is so lovable, huggable, and kissable, he is ideal.

 – Does it mean he has no job?

 – Is money the only thing that you care about, Vixen? – suddenly, she got pissed, I must have hit a nerve.

 – Just curious … how is he going to provide for the family?

 – He does not have to work, he has a lot in savings; he worked all his life to have the life he is having now, he is wonderful, you will love him.

 – What are your impressions of his friends?

 – It does not really matter, I will live with him, not with them, plus he… he … just met them

 – And he calls them FRIENDS?

 – Are you a f*king detective here? – she hated me at that moment, her attempts to make logical conclusions from what sounded irrational were failing. Since my questions threatened the sweetness of her illusion, I became the object of her unconditional resentment and wrath.

 – What do you think about his family?

 – I do not know. He says they never really got along. But again, like I said, I will be living with him, it does not really matter.

 – Did he tell you anything about his past relationships?

 – He never had much luck with women, they were worldly, jealous, and violent. He says I am different, I am the one he has been looking for all this life. And he can’t live without me. Doesn’t it sound romantic? – She was clearly obsessed, nothing seemed to bring her down to earth.

 – Honey, it sounds sick, – I sighed deeply, her stream of consciousness got me really tired.

 – What is wrong with falling in love? – she looked pathetic in her anger, pathetic and somewhat comical

  – How much does he drink?

  – What are you talking about?

 – A normal person is fine living by himself. He may struggle without tooth paste or toilet paper, but for him to say that he can’t live without you or someone else is weird. A normal person has a job, friends that do not come and go within days. A normal person does not quickly label people as demons or angles. And, of course, a normal person does not talk marriage after a month of dating. You are describing someone immature, inconsistent, with… , – I paused, trying to find a proper word – someone with dependency issues.

  – He is just spontaneous …

  – Such people oftentimes have problems with alcohol and drugs…

  – You are nuts, Vixen, bye now, – she hurriedly left, insulted, intimidated, and furious

Two weeks after she gave me a call. I heard her sobbing on the phone as she was telling me about the breakup story.  – Can you imagine…. after all his promises he disappeared, and… and then… texted me, he met someone else and is getting married. He said he found the real angel…

 – I am sorry, – I did not have much to say

 – I … I never actually loved him, it was just an obsession

 – I know.

She kept falling for spontaneity detesting consistency, perseverance, and everything else related to common sense.

happiness, life, love

Evil Behind the Mask

evil

What does the evil look like? Is it someone leather-faced, smelling like decayed teeth and low-income household?

Dave was handsome, highly educated, and wealthy; warm, smiley and polite.

Intimacy with him felt like heaven, he was gentle, affectionate, and caring. “I hug you, and you smile, one day I will see you smiling all the time. It will make me happy.”  He had a great body, nicely smelling bed-linen, huge master bedroom, and high-quality home sound system.

 – What kind of music does my Vixen want?

 – Can we do Mozart?

 – You need something relaxing, what about meditation music?

 – Ok, – I shrugged my shoulders and went into the bathroom, being intimate with him felt relaxing. Sex was not merely joyful or fun, it was spectacular, phenomenal, magical, fantastic.

 – I need to take you shopping, my Vixen needs new dresses.

 – Maybe next time? I gotta pick up my kid from his daycare.

 – No, we will go now, I will choose, since I am paying. Your facial expression…. It has changed, that’s funny…

He had a great taste, the outfit he bought looked awesome. I was thankful and quiet. He did not want me to speak unless he expected answers to his questions.

Talking makes you anxious, dear, you get into your shitty moods that make you unhappy. I want you happy, this is my goal, princess, to make you happy.

 – Yeah, but I just wanted

 – Shh … silly, – he covered my mouth with his hand, – When I speak, you listen, ok?

Physical closeness was awesome, simply awesome, he was very expressive and emotional; I was touched, I kept breaking into tears, he liked it. – There is nothing wrong about showing your feelings, Vixen. You are certainly allowed to do it around me. You gotta read good books, spiritual literature. It will help you grow and become a better person. You can’t be a sugar baby all your life.

I found Seroquel and an empty Tequila bottle on one of his book shelves behind Luke Rhinehart and Teachings of the Buddha. – I have zero tolerance for alcohol. I can’t be around someone who drinks, Dave.

 – One of my friends left the bottle here, he stopped by yesterday, we meditated.

 – Are you taking anti-psychotic meds with alcohol?

 – I took half a pill, the first time in ten years, I stopped drinking long time ago. You gotta relax and stop your crazy thinking, I feel bad when I see you suffering, luv.

 – Why did you take it?

 – My ex stopped by, she is horrible, the most negative person in the world, she tried to commit suicide several times when we were together. I was anxious all night after that, the pill helped me sleep.

 – I thought it is your ex-girlfriend who tried to kill herself.

 – My ex-wife was also crazy, she is a very miserable person, she needs help. I had back luck with women in the past. You are the angel Vixen, I am blessed to have you in my life.

Sex was mind-blowing, I left his house feeling the happiest person in the world that night. He constantly wanted me around. He paid for my son’s sitter and for the hours I missed work to be with him. – You are working too much, it makes no sense, even my cleaners do better financially, honey. You need to change your career. I do not want my princess to stress twenty-four hours a day. It makes me sad to watch you suffer.   

 – I will end up losing my job if I continue taking time off. I can’t afford it, I need to feed my son.

 – I will take care of you both. Trust me, you will never be homeless and hungry.

 – I can take vacation later, maybe a couple of months from now?

 – Now, – suddenly his smile froze, – I will take care of everything:  flights, hotels, food, shopping… I want you to start packing now. Your son can go with us, I love kids.

 – I can’t.

 – Yes, you can, – he grabbed me by the shoulders and started shaking. My head hit the cupboard door. I screamed, he quickly released the grip and gave me a hug. – Are you ok my dear?

I saw blood on the light-wood cupboard door and concern in his dark eyes as he was gently checking my head.– Just a tiny scratch, nothing serious, love.

 – I may need to see a doctor. I hit my temple.    

 – They will rip you off and do nothing. I owned several medical practices, people there are morons. You should not trust them. I will take care of you.

 – I need to go.

 – You need to stop talking now. – The sudden change in his voice was frightening.

That afternoon was the first time I did not leave his house mesmerized by his charm and the way he used his penis. The evil was there caring and smiling, carefully drying my skin with a soft towel after a bath and holding hands while sleeping. The evil was there, slowly but surely cuffing me to the 2-million dollar home with substance abuse and mental health issues. The evil was there gently destroying the identity through manipulation and control slowly leading others to suicidal ideation. The evil had the face of an upper class guy with refined manners, hard cock, and fat banking accounts.

It took time to finally see the dirty truth inside the fancy packaging box.