So. I’m done with my EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing). I feel incredible. Well my insides anyway. My head, my heart, my soul, my spirit, my gumption, my mojo, my inner lady, my central sassy-frassness.
My outsides. Have catching up to do. And I don’t just mean getting my strength back after my hospital stay, although that has to happen first. I’m almost there.
My insides. I feel like I’ve burst from a leaden cocoon, with wings, no longer needing to swaddle myself with extra layers, hats, scarves, for the sake of swaddling this inner self, for the sake of protecting her (something I didn’t know I was doing).
If I wear extra layers, it’ll be because I’m cold.
My insides. I feel like I want to see people and show them my happiness, my gratefulness, my wings, ready to laugh again and take in new things and shake people’s hands and give people kisses.
My insides. I feel like I can run with my dogs and keep up, like I want to put a little hip in my walk, like I could balance on a single fingertip, like I want to batt my eyelashes at Bill. I wish everyone could feel this way.
I’m not high.
I’m just not carrying the weight of my trauma, old fear, old sadness. No more. It was heavy, and I didn’t know it. Without it, there’s 9 million balloons attached to my back lifting me, rush! off the ground. The planet has a different gravity. I can bound from foot to foot from building top to building top from tree to tree over lakes over oceans.
My insides. Have been excavated, all weighted pain, pulled out and replaced with nothing but love and faith and hope and promise and joy I can’t even describe. Or maybe I have.
My outsides. Consider them “under construction.” Maybe with scaffolding. Maybe a “coming soon” sign. Definitely with growing wings.
It’ll help that I’m sleeping more, my sleep giving my body space for metamorphosis. In the hospital, I was introduced to melatonin, something letting me sleep 7 or 8 hours a night rather than the 4 or 5 hours I’ve been getting most of my life.
What’s Project Butterfly? A transformation, to radiate how my insides feel–my insides that can do quadruple axels–to my outsides, and from my outsides, beyond.
It’s my goal to be my happiest, most-at-peace, sassiest-to-the-frass-y-est self, from my innermost, winged, Her-cules, to my outermost soon-to-be-sassiest-to-the-maxiest outside.
Weight-loss is the tip-of-the-tippity-top iceberg, and no longer any tiniest-bit about being disappointed in myself. Which I now know, I was. Since EMDR, I love myself, no matter what. Before EMDR, I didn’t know, I didn’t.
I won’t be dieting. Not really. I no longer eat beyond full–eating instead of feeling.
With the exercise I normally do (that I’ll get back to soon, I think, starting small of course, but eventually perhaps with an I-might-as-well-be-wearing-a-cape vigor), my weight might just fall off, as a side-effect of feeling light and awesome and sass-a-mazing.
Over time, I’ll replace my swaddling, hide-myself, don’t-look-at-me clothes with “hello!” clothes. (It’s been 2 weeks since I wore my hat and scarf, just to feel comforted, just to feel safe, and now that my hat’s off I want to do something with my hair.)
Replacing my wardrobe will take some time and some sewing and some online thrift store dress-me-for-cheap resourcefulness (part of the reason I’m writing for this other blog), but I’ll get there, and did I mention, I’ll get sassy.
I’ll sage our house, to get rid of any residual, lingering weight in the walls, in the paint, in the rug, in the shades…
When I do yoga, I’ll do some of it with people (if I can figure out a place that jives with my schedule and doesn’t cost too much)…any suggestions?
I’ll start singing again, something I haven’t done, not even in my car, for quite a while.
I’ll start dating my husband. Because. That’s just hot. And, I’ll try make him laugh at least 3 times a day.
I’ll get back to visiting people I like, because I miss them, and back to visiting people I might like (people I’ve just met), because I could miss them. And, if people are too busy to visit, I’ll shimmer my wings and beam them love.
I’ll smile, more than not. Point my face toward people on the street, rather than down. Say “hello” in my “hello!” clothes to anyone who smiles back.
I imagine, to some, I’ll be annoying. “Why’s she so happy all the time?” “Why’d that lady just look at me?” “Why did Amy just give me a kiss?” and “Holy crap! I didn’t realize her laugh could be any louder.”
But, I guess, tough tooty-bazooties!
My joy wants to come out. And, I suspect when it does, it’ll be hard to hold it in if I try. Maybe in time it’ll settle into my skin, and I’ll take my wings to the sky just once in a while. But for now, I’m letting it fly.