I’ve had a lot of demon sadness showing up this past week. I’ve felt it under the surface, and I have let it surface some.
The body remembers, and this was a hard time of year for me last year. There is also all the junk surrounding this holiday that brings sadness for many of us. Being thankful is something to celebrate. Our country’s history of thieving genocide that is still ongoing is in such sharp contrast to that.
I had plans today that felt special to me. My sweet son became ill, and we couldn’t go. We spent a quiet day at home. I mostly read. But there was some sadness still, under the surface. I have felt sad and sick a lot lately. Searching for the remedies. Doing my best to create happiness.
We have some steep stairs in our house. I have always been afraid that someone is going to take a tumble on them and really hurt themselves.
Tonight, I fell on the top of the stairs. My socks slipped and my feet flew out from under me. I bashed up my forearms and elbows and back. Miraculously, I landed on the stairs and only skidded down one or two instead of pummeling down the entire staircase. I scooted down the stairs on my butt until I got to the bottom and Zane came to see what happened.
I got upset that I had really damaged my body and it would take some time to heal it. And then I decided to not hold on to that idea and just send healing energy to the injured spots. Everything was still working.
Zane said, “what did you come down here for?”
I said, “ice cream.”
For some reason, we both laughed.
I didn’t want it anymore. I’m trying to remember what I was thinking when I tumbled. I like to pay attention to that sort of thing. But I can’t remember now. It was too shocking.
I went into the bathroom to get ready for bed, and the physical pain and shock overtook me. I began to really cry. Serious ugly sobs that helped to cleanse the sadness.
I had always been afraid of someone falling. And there, I had done it. And survived. Maybe I don’t need to be afraid anymore.
I went back upstairs after some hugs from Zane, feeling better for the catharsis. Did I need to fall down the stairs to let the tears of stress and sadness loose? I don’t know. But it did that, and it helped.
I had a “life is short, and I could die in my own house at any time” moment and so I decided to buy myself an ebook I wanted. It’s been good. It’s helping me focus on regaining my feminine power through embracing and creating pleasure.
That fall was a new beginning. I am grateful. And I am grateful for you. Bless.