Wednesday, May 20, 2009
One hell of a Wednesday.
We had one hell of an ergo therapy session this morning. It was like we were thrown before the lions and had to be brave and come out as victors without even any tears in our clothes.
You see, we didn't have our regular therapist who is all kind and motherly and soothing. She is on a week's vacation. We had a therapist who went right for the jugular, which I liked, none of this wishy washy stuff, but straight at it, no holds barred. Within two minutes she had each person pegged down and analyzed and confronted with themselves and then made them declare themselves and dared them to say out loud what they were afraid to. It was hot and heavy and led to some steamy emotions that sometimes went over the top, but boy, it was good.
Afterwards, it felt like we had been in a knock down, drag out fight with all of our wits called upon to stay as sharp as they could to dodge the quick punches from the left and the right. We went far beyond the call of duty and some couldn't handle it, but I thought it was great. I like those kinds of things, I like the confrontation. I'm not scared of it.
As it was, I got to be someone's champion who really needed it and I almost helped her over a ledge that was very high and steep, but I couldn't push her. That would have been unfair, because I was in a position of power.
It's somewhat frustrating to be so riled up about this morning and to not be able to tell you any details, but I can't, because whatever I hear between those four walls, stays there and I don't discuss it with anybody else, no matter how much space it takes up in my head. I have to figure it all out on my own and live with it all by myself until the next session.
Now my therapies are all done for this week, because tomorrow is Ascension Day and the following day is a holiday too. That means a four day weekend and I think that's awfully long. Too long, but there isn't a thing I can do about it. It has been decreed so. I don't know whose bright idea it was, but I think they should have checked with me first. After all, I'm second only in importance to the Queen so I should have some say in the matter.You don't believe me do you? I tell you it's true. It's just not common knowledge yet.
The Exfactor was here this afternoon to make a plan of action for the bedrooms and we've got it all figured out to do it in the easiest possible way. He did complain of a sore back and I offered him drugs, but he wouldn't take them. He did take the electric heating pad. That's something anyway. Since he's just a low ranking citizen, I thought it was kind of me to offer him my drugs from the aristocratic pharmaceutical cabinet.
It's a very joyful thing, to feel so elevated in life. To feel so über-special. Everywhere I deem to walk, people nudge each other and say, "There she goes!" It's much better than being a beauty queen, because that is just a fleeting thing. This is inherent to me and everlasting to my dying day. The priviledge of specialness that is only rewarded to some people, because of some outstanding inner quality. Several outstanding inner qualities. A whole bunch of them. I have known I had them since I was a child, they've sometimes gone unrecognized because of circumstances, but they were there all along.
I could be the Queen's sister and still feel more elevated than she is, actually. I'd have no problem taking the crown from her head and putting it on my own head and wearing it daily, although it may be a bit cumbersome. I'd wear the neatest royal gowns that would make an impression that nobody would forget. Full of glory I'd walk down the palace steps and make a daily ride in my royal coach.
Ah, but it's better not to be the queen and to be unrestrained and let my über-specialness have the free reign and go wherever it wants to take me in the world in which I live and where I can shine in my brightness and stand out in my uniqueness and be one with, but above my fellow man.Where I can sit on a café terrace and pretend that all the people who walk by, walk by for my purpose, so I may look at them.
Now I have to end this epistle and walk my super dog and feed him and watch the news and feed myself too. I can do all these things if I hurry.
Have a lovely evening.