I have internets again!
Boy and I moved in. I'm getting the rest of my shit out of Woman's place by this Saturday and breaking the news to her. I feel bad for doing it so suddenly, but I have a cockroach bite on my foot, and an infection on my toe from her skanky ass carpets, and my dog started getting blisters on her face from how dirty that place is. Plus, Boy is being cool with money right now, and since I just quit the gym and have to pay rent to a new place (if things go well at the interview I'm about to head to) then that will seriously help in getting off the ground, no joke.
I have hopefully 4-5 clients who will be coming with me, which will be a major bonus. I still have to get the papers printed off for them to sign, and start to get some shit organized and the like, but I'm seriously excited. If things go well, and I start to build up a steady client base, I'll be making about $1000-$1300/month in the first few months off of it (combined with my server job, and I'll be around $1800/month), and if things go well and I stay on top of my game, I'll be at around $2000/month just from my training by December. I just have to start pulling in more clients and really start to pursue these things. Gotta crack down like a motherfucker!
Not much more I can talk about in the short amount of time I have. Things are crazy, money is tight, I'm tired, and I'm hoping boy can tolerate me. He's bore witness to a migraine, and a slightly cranky day. I'm waiting for when he finally sees me in all my fucked up glory taking out serious issues on food and kicking the fuck out of a punching bag.
I apparently hit him the other night when his alarm startled me, and I bolted up right up with only the singular thought in my mind of finding a weapon to defend myself with.
I already warned him that he's probably the only person who will be able to wake me up without me trying to hurt them XD
Which is why I tend to not sleep with a knife under my pillow anymore.
Someone from the cult contacted me again.
Found my new email address and got a hold of me.
The cult that fucked me up.
The one that's nearly made me change my name and has driven me beyond just the breaking point, but to full out shatter.
At first, the fear and anxiety hit.
And then there was rage.
It's funny, isn't it?
I spend so long dreading that it will happen,
that when it finally does,
I've used up all of my fear.
And the part of me that I used to call "My Warrior" comes out, and all I can think is, "How DARE you?" I feel like I get all the meek terror out of the way before hand, so I'm free to lash out with a violence when it inevitably occurs.
It was someone who had always been on the outskirts.
He says he's not involved anymore, so I'm not quite sure how to respond to him, or if I should. Part of me wants to play with fire and see what stirs. Discover what they're up to. It's the part of me that, oddly, sees all of life as a game of war. I sit on the outskirts with friends and family, pretending to be normal, but inside, life is a battle and I have a clearly defined enemy. I think I continually have the urge to check on them just so I know what they're up to, so I can station my defenses and wait. So I can be sure they're not tracking me. To ignore the enemy does not mean they no longer exist. To turn your back on someone does not mean they go away.
It just means they have a larger target to strike.
I assess every person on the street and wonder, If they attacked, what would I do? I think of what I carry on me. If I had to fight, what weapon would I choose?
I consider the stances and weaknesses of those I see. I would hit their knees, or their postural weakness is heavily in their lower back...I could strike their spine and take them down. They have no balance.
I am contacted by those who I fear or despise.
And rather than run from the lion,
I face it head on and watch with eyes narrowed, studying it's muscles, waiting to see which way it will pounce, playing chicken with a beast that could consume me if I acted for a moment as if I were it's prey.
I think it's why I have so often been able to walk through the dirtiest and most dangerous of neighborhoods at night without being hassled.
I avoid street lights, I don't make eye contact, I am constantly on the alert, and I move with the confidence of a creature that is not the hunted, but the hunter. The air that says, "Approach me. I am off putting, pretty, and small, and I am hungry. Come to me. I want to hurt something, and I want an excuse. Let me use you."
I like to play my vulnerability up.
I like to feel small and needy.
But I like to know that people underestimate me.
And that I could kill them when they least expect it.
Always be prepared: Have a plan to kill everyone you meet.
LOL because that's not psychotic!
I'm just a fluffy little bunny, aren't I?
And I am! Just the Monty Python bunny, is all!
OK I have typed too much.
Off to go and work out an arrangement with a new gym!
WISH ME LUCK DOLLIES!
Stay strong and beautiful.
Oh, and my weight is up to 124 again, which is ok. I'm in pre-period bloat phase, and last time, I got up to 127. I'm really, really, really hoping that this means I'm starting to break through my high weight time, and I'm trying so hard to keep it down. I binged so bad this morning because I've been exhausted, but yeah, whatever. Blah.
I've also tried a little bit of something that makes me hungry, because it eases anxiety when I do have to eat. It's...well...I'm going to be getting my medicinal marijuana card for my migraines, to see if it helps,a nd also because I'm so sick of the anti-anxiety medicines, and sometimes...sometimes I really do just....want to stop panicking and be ok with eating a fucking apple, you know?
And I tried some, and for the first time in like...a full out fucking year, I ate something and didn't feel guilty the next day.
Of course...I felt guilty the day after that, but whatever.
You get what you can get, I suppose.
Stay strong, starve on. I'm going to try and do the same.