october journal, entry {sixteen}

Last night I felt the darkness creeping back in. I felt the hum-drum sadness, the melancholy mind and the inner rage fuming in my core; all I wanted to do was scream - and so I did. I have spent the past week in a state of anxiety trying my best to surf the wave and ride it out until it decides to loosen it's grip. It's been of week of borderline darkness, a deep bubbling of 'overwhelm' and night after night of sleeplessness and anger. I figured it was my moon blood and the exaggerated symptoms that seem to accompany it these days - or perhaps the full moon -- but both have those have now passed and I am going on more than a week of feeling the avalanche of my psyche about to cut loose. 

I knew something was off kilter when I met up with my girlfriend Kelsey for a cheeky afternoon-hour break at YYC Clothing Bar (my fav small biz consignment store!) becasue I was scattered in my thinking and I was speaking in my own little version of broken tongues which reflected the scattered and ungrounded mindset I was in. Sometimes I miss gauging myself becasue I work at home alone and the work I do do is coaching clients where I show up more as a space holder rather than my eccentric and odd self; I can be especially intense when I get deep into writing and reading -- which, I have been. 

This intensity when gone unchecked leads me to a "crazy artist" archetype.... you know what I mean? The bleeding soul... the tangled hair, black clothes, messy house, cob webs in the corners, starving becasue food seems like too much effort, has not seen the light of day or human interaction... this is not a good place for me.  

Kels laughed at me yesterday (as best friends do) when I revealed my choice of for "fun reading"; a book called 'Emotional Intimacy'... like, that's not really a "break" from my intense day to to mindset. I laughed too until I got home and felt myself seriously slipping. 

I ended the tele-course call and I felt wonderful and it felt like it went amazing and the topic at hand was one of my favourites: female sexuality, pleasure, masturbation, orgasms, the female cycle etc. Part of me was elated and part of me was like: ugh, kori, where did your sex drive go? When was the last time you felt intimate with self? When was the last time there was sacred solo-sex??? And then it happened -- the fucking asshole who lives upstairs started playing his regular Tuesday night music -- his music choice seems to be heavy metal -- the base was legit rattling things in my home (the walls are cement!!!!) and rage kicked in.

I was irrationally fuming mad.

This triggers me every Tuesday -- I don't know why, but I hate noises which is ironic because I am one of the loudest people I know -- but noises: the TV, chewing, loud breathing, clocks ticking... drive me mental

So the rage builds up and I'm about to fucking loose it so I decided to cool my jets and give this royal a-hole a chance to get his rock-n-roll out of his damn system by going for a dog walk and praying to any God listening to me that the music would be off by the time I got home. 


Not so lucky. 

This pisses me off weekly, but yesterday was way more intense -- I could truly feel that I was tipping over an edge that was not a healthy edge for me as I screamed in my kitchen and desperately texted Shane as if he could 'fix me' from afar. It was a poor-me-pitty-party. Why do I feel this way? Why am I always so anxious? Why am I prone to such darkness? Perhaps I am cursed to live a sad life. WHY ME?

It frustrates the shit out of me at times -- I try hard to keep my sanity... sane and yet each day that passes I seem to become more and more sensitive and I feel myself changing every day and sometimes it's so hard to keep up -- and sometimes I do not get the point of it all -- and sometimes I am sick of crying and I am sick of trying and I am sick of being human and struggling to remain ... balanced.  What else can I do? I eat well, I honour my allergens and religiously do not eat gluten, dairy or eggs. I avoid sugar and I never eat sad animals. I engage in rituals daily. I spend thousands of dollars on therapy. I gave up booze, I stand up for myself, I use my voice, I exercise NO and strong boundaries.... should I not feel better?

WHY ME!!!  Bless the man who I call my husbands heart for he is a stable and laid back guy who literally must wonder what goes on in my head -- he just listened to me text this shit out... text after text after text until I thought...

Get a grip Kori. Look around you, what do you need? What does your heart need? Whats missing? Stop victimizing yourself for this is your greatest gift... get it to-fucking-gether. 

I started by putting some music on to drown out captain rock-star upstairs and then I sat in the condo and I looked around and I thought about what was off kilter. 

Ok Kori, you have been intense. You are writing alot and you are spending much of your time alone again and you are engaging in heavy "for fun" books. I become aware too of an aching head ache (which I never get!) and realized that as I coached humans on self-care and wellness all day long, that I had barley had any water and food... oh yes, food ... when was the last time I cooked a meal or shared a recipe? When was the last time I took the dogs to the dog park? Why was I not studying my school work -- plants and anatomy always grounds me; I know this -- where were my Chinese Medicine Books? And then I looked around my house -- when was the last time I vacuumed? Why was there a pile of laundry on my floor? Things were undone and loose ends were hanging around all over the damn place. The kitchen was a mess. And then I looked at my schedule and I saw that I legit made my schedule yesterday to start at 6am and end at 9pm with 30 min between clients and only one hour to visit Kelsey -- unsustainable, when did this creepy over-achieving side creeeeep back in? What sort of intensity is this, Kori?

Where is the balance? What is the antidote?

I know my antidote, I know what to do when I start getting far too intellectual and deep.... I vacuum -- I engage in the mundane; the thing that brings me back into the world and back into my body. 

So I did it. I vacuumed and as I did I became aware of the tiny things I had let slip that are actually not so tiny in my mind and soul. Obsessively cleaning my house is a ritual that simply connects me into the moment -- it's not about the cleanliness for me and its a pain in the ass and it feels like there are better and more profound things I could be doing with my time but the act of "sweeping the floor" for me, is the act of 'coming to the surface'. No one can stay under water forever -- my favourite dwelling place is 'under water'; in the very depths of spirit, soul, life,,, whatever -- just deep. If I am not careful this great strength of mine quickly becomes a great weakness as I am swallowed whole. 

So I swept; and I dusted; and I crafted a good meal -- and I chewed it fully; and I made tea; and I chose to not read and not to be on social media; and I sat in the darkness in a clean home and i was connected to the moment and to the body and to the mundane boring reality that is actually where my soul needs to be. And then I cleared my schedule for today -- no clients. no emails. no anything other than me and school and my dogs and some yoga and I put my 'emotional intimacy book' on the shelf and I pulled out the thing that grounds me the most: a book on plant medicine. 

Shane told me last night, "you will figure it all out one day, I'm sure" -- but here is the thing -- 

I'm wired this way. I am prone to a darker side than some folks. Depression and anxiety are a part of my 'curse-blessing' and there is in fact nothing to "figure out" but more so an opportunity to truly lean into the moment-to-moment whispers of my heart and listen to the guidance I receive. My rituals are my medicine and sometimes emptying the dishwasher and sweeping the floors seem boring and annoying and too 'simple' and yet these are my true acts of God-Living; these are the things that help me breathe and are the "must-do's" of my existence.  

more october journals...