the lions' den

I'm not entirely sure when weird became normal, but it has been for some time now. Maybe even forever. I hate writing about negative shit, that's all I can come up with for topics though. I don't want to be too heavy, too dark, too negative. I keep finding out (re-realizing?) that my definition of "light fodder" isn't most people's, and then I worry because I get frustrated with my mom for doing the same thing. I love her, she has some great traits, but I don't want to carry her social ineptitude. Maybe it's the curse of the burdened and melodramatic.

Meh, it's on my mind (probably because of Kirk's post) so here we go.

I started learning how to fight because I was scared. Some of it was to work out, and holy fuck is it a good work out, but mostly I was scared. My fear tends to manifest as anger, and the only way to get it out is to beat it. Either by running, or pulling on a line, or kicking a bag. If my muscles don't contract repeatedly in forceful succession it takes forever to calm down. Yelling works, too.

It's cathartic to be exhausted and spar. To throw out a roundhouse, and have it connect just to take an axe kick to the dome. And to just get pissed off again. Just keep going until it's all out of you, when there's barely enough energy to get into the car and drive home. It's calming to embrace one's emotions in such a primitive, animalistic manner.

Now that I'm older I find myself flexing different muscles, breathing in a borderline hyperventilating way, or literally biting my tongue to chill out in situations where it isn't socially acceptable to literally run from the room. Boss yells at you for forgetting something inconsequential? Don't run, bite your tongue!

I used to put myself in the lion's den when I was afraid of something. I love men, but I'm also afraid of them. Men tend to inhabit fighting spaces. I wanted to be tough like them, so I wouldn't be scared of them. Walking to your car alone? Don't worry, you've fought with dudes (pay zero attention to the fact that those dudes were going easy on you because you're a chick.) Guys are making really inappropriate comments to you? Stick it out and prove that you're the cool girl. It's like I believed that assimilating would protect me.

I don't go into the lions' den anymore. If my instincts say something is wrong, I get out as soon as possible. No ifs, ands or buts.

I'm not quite sure where I'm going with this thought, but I'm here anyway, biting my tongue.

Just so anyone who might be reading this knows, I have a seriously wonderful group of kind, real, goofy, and loving guys who I am lucky to call my dearest friends, some I round up to family (or actually are family).

Good night.