Blaming It On The Female BiologyFriday, March 22, 2013
So my cat came home after about two weeks of AWOL and I was ecstatic. Such a simple joy. Just having him back tremendously up the level of my happy juice and yet, before long I start to fall into a grey hole of insecurity. And it's nothing to do with the cat at all.
And that's when I thought that maybe it's nearing the time of the month. I am not insecure, bothered or disturbed because of some complex layers of thinking have been woven from an obvious negative thought. No madam. It's probably best explained by a simple reason like perhaps maybe my hormones are out of whack.
Or so I'd like to believe but skepticism creeps into the head space. It sounds like a lousy excuse right? Like did I just pull out the nature-trumps-conscious-control card and blame it on biology? I am female so I am to be excused for my monthly bouts of ridiculous emotions that don't make sense to a rational robotic mind? I am tired and thus have the permission of Global Women About To Go On The Rag Act to behave the vilest even without overt provocation?
I am looking, attempting to pry into the insides of my thought-maker to end the blame game. I am trying to dissociate myself from my body. The conscious act of trying to ascend beyond the physical self is a bit delusional because I am still operating from within the confines of my body. I guess I've just driven myself back into the cage to sit with the jumbled up thoughts worked up from that initial root notion that I am just not good enough.
This is not a new game in town, ladies. We get thrown into this fog of low-energy perceptions about ourselves. Do we really matter? Am I relevant at all? What is this sensation that comes visiting in the hours when no one else is there awake apart ourselves? I learn to acknowledge my proneness to nihilistic ruminations and use it for self-indulgent writing and the wisest thing to do is to not mind them.
Have a chat. Tickle the cat. Bug some random person. Let the thoughts roam and if faces begin to appear worried or slightly annoyed, I'll just say: well excuse my plunging hormones!
And I start to question the relevance of my own existence. I'm not about to obliterate myself, no. It's just that I am playing the horrid comparison game! You know the drill. Compare a trait you have to someone other than yourself? Yup. Compare a weakness in the 'personality' to someone's all amazing strength in any department. Foolish. Everyone loses in the comparison game except for those pompous souls high on delusions of grandeur opiate.
Maybe there's a point to all of our collective less-than-charged-up reveries. Would you please tell me what it is? Inquiring minds would really love to know.
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