Yesterday, we had a mini-event at work that I put together. I was so nervous that everything would fall apart, but it didn’t. I watched Wilfred Buck’s documentary on Crave and then reached out to him to get him to teach our kids indigenous astronomy. I invited the other youth programs. Head office got wind of it and joined in. The pressure was on.
Today we take our kids to The Red River Ex. It’s a fair. It’s going to be fun. If there are plant-based corndogs… I’m cooked. I’m going to eat those all day long and suffer from that abuse.
I spoke with my coordinator about what has been bothering me. He needed to hear it. Management has been dropping like flies, and he needs to step his p-word up when it comes to our other mentor. I’ve been stepping back a bit, and it has been painful. We have different temperaments. I have to remind myself. His ADHD isn’t being managed by me, so I have to be patient. He can’t focus. He takes on 20 side quests instead of the main one. So much gets lost in the sauce. He forgot to pay Wilfred Buck, for starters. We took the kids to the zoo last weekend, and he forgot to bring our free passes. Bruh.
Other than work, what is my life? My candida cleanse was a failure. I lasted two weeks. It was way too restrictive, and I traumatized my body. I had cramping that I couldn’t explain. Turned out to be hunger pains. Now starving is my default setting that I cannot turn off with any amount of food. It was the wrong approach. It wasn’t in alignment with terrain theory. Don’t starve the candida. It eats waste, simply remove the waste. Is what the naturopath told me.
School? Am I going back in September? Still traumatized. I didn’t know I had ADHD and… I don’t even wanna talk about it. My podcast situation? My mind is so occupied right now. It’s in fight mode. I took on my nervous system. That shaman made it make sense that my body doesn’t have room for dopamine because it is flooded with stress hormones. His solution was ancient traditions, but we have modern problems that wearing a rose quartz crystal isn’t going to fix. When it comes to “spiritual” work, I write off anyone who is not fit. They’re only doing half the work. How regulated can you be if you can’t manage your morbidity? He was a chubster. I judge a book by its cover, sue me. I digress. I ended up trying somatic work in the end. My second session is on Monday. That shaman wins that round.
I have FOMO. I want a hot girl summer but… every year, I do nothing because I have no one to do it with. Jonah? Well, I don’t make it to his community walks that often. Whatever that spark was, it is probably long gone. I went to Pride for the first time in over a decade. I felt like Phoebe in that episode of Friends when she witnessed Chandler and Monica getting it on. Ow! My eyes! My Eyes! So much visual assault.
Anyway, yesterday I realized that I have third-degree burnout, so I need to dial things in a bit. I’m also booking a flight to see my brother at the end of August. I don’t think there is a direct flight to his island which sucks. I don’t want to take a ferry. I have a rational fear of the ocean.
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