Anatomy of a Break-Up (Day Twelve)

It's day twelve and I can't be sure, but I think I feel a little bit of sadness underneath my anger which is hidden under my shame. For someone who's spent her whole life dealing with an emotion, the mixture of all three is like being hungry while wanting to puke and somehow still craving Indian food.

So, essentially, my break up currently feels like morning sickness. And if I had my relationship's baby I'm pretty sure it would be Courtney Love. Which is disheartening to say the least.

I hate the baby.

I guess it also feels a little bit like a hangover, but to me, a hangover implies that there was a good time first which led to the hangover. Unless you were roofied.
Let's go with that. Assface roofied me into a relationship and now I'm hungover.

In order to get through this ridiculous cocktail of feelings, I've been listening to some guided meditations by a guy named Martin L. Rossman. You can find some of his stuff here: http://www.thehealingmind.org/

Once you get past his name, the sound of his voice, the use of the phrase "wet noodle", his enthusiasm for stairs, the way he reassures you so often you start to feel a little nervous and a few other minor details, he really is helpful in putting me to sleep.

And that, dear readers, is what I've learned meditation is all about- feeling enlightened because you're one of the 12 Americans out there that get enough sleep. People can say whatever they want about aligning their chakras and finding their spirit guide while they meditate, but the point of meditation is to relax the body completely, tune out the world and concentrate on nothing. Which is sleeping.

Yes, it's sleeping in a siting position. But it's easy to learn that. It doesn't even take meditation, you just have to watch "Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy".

One of the most famous statues of Buddah. Showing him do his thang. Sleeping.

I think there's a whole lot of jealousy going on inside of me as well. Assface just got the best deal ever- increased paycheck, free time all the time, a sweet in-city apartment, and the TV. I'm a little bummed to be the one sitting here a solid 25 minutes away from the city and listening to a dude named Martin sweet-talk me into night-night time.