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Reversing to Positive, Exposing the Negatives…

July 29, 2010

Aside from the great revelations of self-preservation and new methods of digesting some of the most toxic elements of human inflicted emotional injury, I’ve realized that because of my husband and my marital resentment, heartache and sheer exhaustion in the day-to-day Parade of Insanity we both chose to walk, in a not so melodious barrage of music making and unison, we were, in fact offending all innocent parties in the crowd as well as our comrades in the slowly-dying society of happy couples marching everywhere. We had inflicted pain, concern and worry on many souls other than just ourselves.

While I’m sure some of them would welcome the physical effects of our distraught lives: like losing a good sixteen pounds – I seriously doubt any of them would envy our heartache, hair loss, sleepless nights, emotional blame, guilt, and the never-ending who did what to who.

So, in an effort to repair that hurt, even if only for myself, I plug away each night in this method of healing: an antiseptic to the wounds, if you will. Be assured, it’s going to sting and let’s face it, you’ll curse the sheer existence of the source, but what else is new?  With the shock, disbelief, insult and maybe even offence to your and my own existence, somehow I still end up feeling better, and it just gets more entertaining for me.

Ah, but then, the most therapeutic element known to the human body: laughter.  The ever restorative and cleansing reaction from simply laughing your once judgmental, narrow-minded, self-absorbed ass off; laughter, actually begins to lift your spirits to the situation, removing toxins and releasing endorphins abound.  It may just bring about feelings of empathy, association, insight and understanding.

Then, refreshingly, enlightenment and realization sets in.  The healing can now begin.  On we go.

One specific time I remember my husband and I standing at the foyer, verbal blame and finger-pointing back and forth for a good five minutes, I swear, we both lost track of what exactly we were even fighting about. There we are now a few steps further into the kitchen, both standing firm and obstinate in our godforsaken convictions with hands and arms going up and down as if we were two orchestra conductors at the head of our anger management class and still striving to out-do the other with a not so classy ass-showing contest. It was about thirty seconds into the kitchen’s berating that we literally started saying the exact same thing about the other: “that only make sense in your head!” “no your head!”, “no, your head!”…. after about three of these, we did something most confusing to any outsider and rather odd to ourselves: brace yourself now….we both busted out laughing, and I mean gut-holding laughing at ourselves, each other, the crazy and animated performance we had just given and laughing at the sheer fact that in the heated argument, here we are…. laughing. Together…now holding one another. Laughing at our idiot selves.

I reported this precise event to our therapist at the time; after sitting there listening intently to me paint the scary and exhausting picture of the scene, which he sat still for the entire time – really, I think he was afraid to move seeing how heated and nuts this man makes me even when simply explaining our arguments…Mr. Therapist was yes, a little bit petrified in his frozen stature, but intrigued nonetheless. It was at the end of my most frustrating, yet colorful narrative  that he finally, slowly took a few seconds to let the change of tone set in and he said these words: “Then….there’s still hope.(?)” and I put the question mark in captions as I’m still not quite sure to this day, if he was asking me a question – because it rather seemed to me at the time, that he was making a statement.  And you know, now that I think about it, I kinda feel jipped as I wasn’t given a definitive response to my plight; really, what exactly was the co-pay for? Regardless, I like to think he was taking a grand and righteous tone, and his comment was to proclaim the outcome of two souls and their ability to coexist. “There’s still hope”, said he.

In reverence for hope and the confusion of finality, (I’ve been approached with of recent); yes, in this light of conflicting modes, spirit and moods of two most diverse outcomes….I give you: black and white.  The sweet contrast of my favorite dessert, maybe because of the diversity in it all: dark/light, reflective/absorbent, warm/cold, negative/positive.  The most glorious yet simple dessert out of the late-night kitchen of sinful satisfaction: Vanilla Ice Cream with Rich Hot Fudge…..running amuck over all the sick and sticky, sweet and fattening metaphors of desire to fill a hole in the vast void of my emotional comic strip life.  A little something I like to fall back on for comfort and utter fulfillment – the sweet love of food, I give you … Love and Loss  – á la mode. 😉

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