You see, though I am very simply a gentle soul through and through…there is a nasty piece of something deeeeeep inside me that puts a spell on my brain or my eyes… I’m not sure…could be a combination of both. As my connection to my physical body grows, I think I have identified where he lives (there may be more than one house where he lives). I have studied my demon for many years through practices like yoga and meditation and various forms of self-care. I have pursued education, and I have gone on retreat. I have been very honest with myself. I have looked at pictures, I have talked to friends, I have tried to pretend the demon didn’t exist. I have felt that I have made a lot of progress getting to know and trying to release my demon. And I have also experienced the heartbreak of realizing that after all I have done, I still know this demon. I have tried to forgive, I have tried to reason, I have prayed my ass off.
Oddly enough, I think my demon probably has at least one name given to him by the American Medical Association. Does this mean he is not uniquely mine? Or does he just have a big family and they also have beautiful homes? I’m not sure.
I am a woman who takes responsibility for her actions. I try not to be a victim, generally speaking. But I do believe the poison my culture has fed me over the years through beautiful chemicals and artfully manipulative advertisements, genetically fucked up food and glamorized violence strengthens my demon’s power over me. But I digress…
It would break your heart how ugly I can be. The tiny bump, eentsy imperfection that may or may not have been there. The restrictions in my younger years, the agonizing anxiety in my older ones when the demon rears his head (horns?). All those embarrassingly hideous pictures! How humiliating to be such an ugly girl! Though I know you’ve seen my face. “This is ridiculous” surely people would cry if they could hear what the demon makes me tell myself. It’s fucked up, I know.
Listen, I love myself very much. I honor myself in many ways. I know I am beautiful outside as well as in and I am grateful for the face and body I have been blessed with (blessed! gasp!).
I think I really am making progress giving the little shithead the boot. Most of my moments are lovely, after all. These cannot be the words of a woman demon-possessed. Surely you’ll agree with that statement?
On a side note, I saw a burning bush today. True story, it happened at the base of the Butte, we called it in. I told my mom it happened and she asked if I talked to God.
You bet your ass I did.
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