Don’t let any man redefine your definition of YOU
Tag: Self care
Rubberband: #lifestyle
Now I’m fairly certain you read the title and thought to yourself rubberband, lifestyle, where is she going with this one? Well everywhere and nowhere which is exactly how life flows when you live a rubberband lifestyle.
Let’s look at the physical characteristics of a rubberband. It is flexible, and has various uses. The strength of each rubberband is not always innately obvious but becomes clear once pressure is applied. It can handle being pulled in several directions at once and generally will respond with the desired result.
Wonderful right! As people we are all that and more, flexible, strong, and equipped to handle various types and amounts of pressure. So if you’re anything like me you are bout that rubberband #lifestyle. Overall its pretty awesome, but it can also be pretty dangerous. Here’s how:
1. Being pulled in multiple directions
This could equate to multi tasking or stress but either way it is no bueno. Research has shown that multi tasking actually decreases your brain ability to function over time. Stress well it messed up everything.
2. Being flexible
Flexibility is great, as long as it isn’t coming at your own expense. The rubberbands fatal flaw is its inability to commit to self care. It just gets used and abused until it finally snaps. Generally the damage is irreparable. Even if you tie it back together its never quite the same.
3. Strength
Strength is often a misnomer. We like to define the strength of others based on how they react to the pressure. While it may seem like you are holding it all together very well, few people will notice the cracks that will lead to the eventual break.
Now I know living a rubberband #lifestyle just went from being the shit to being shit. But you can still get all the love and joy from being everything that encompasses. Step one be okay with saying no. Step two be okay with taking care of yourself. Step three be okay with always taking the time to #justbe
Poetry Break: Monkey Me
See I’ve been wrestling with this monkey called depression for some years, and he occasionally, hangs out with this gorilla named alcohol, and for a while in high school, he hung out with this baboon, buffoon weed, and every time I swear I got him beat and I love my life or so it seems he comes round with his reel to reel, and replays my life full of bullshit themes, from love story to the dramas, and crazy action horror flicks. Hollywood has no idea what real 3D, breathtaking life is, nothing worse than watching bad shit happen, except that goes on with innocent kids who had no decision on their existence, sometimes I used to wonder if I’m the master of my destiny, who is anyone to deem me wrong for politely conceding and ending my journey? But every day I still strive this monkey see, and do, and do lie, do wrong, make me strong……sometimes,weigh me down, stall my breath, feel like death……some days, I keep on going, because those days when the monkey is too exhausted from fighting, when he can’t immobilize, and his lack of opposable thumbs gets him down, these are the days, weeks, and months for which I live, absent shaven head and umbrella sword fights, no delusions of grandeur, or depraved indifference, just even keel, favorite meal, that’s my jam, singing off key happily, everyday type flow, man o man, the days without that monkey yo, a clear day in LA where you can see forever, But this thoughtless fool, he knows my address, sees my progress and at a moment’s notice will take the time to ascend my thighs, and claim jump my peace, distracting me with his incessant gorilla chatter, attempting to convince me to sit, out this round, this passage, this life, un-scratchable itch, mean ol’ monkey bitch, why me, why harass little back, small hip me? Fight him off one more time, as he smiles at me that’s life baby girl, don’t you get it, see, deep down inside you appreciate me, I make some of your days amazing, I dredge you into exhaustion and encourage you to refrain from success, and wallow in this stress, but it’s me that gets up and my weight presses you on, ungrateful whiner God sent me to make you strong, what could I say, what in reality was there to do, I slapped his little monkey ass, and said bring it on boo
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