Plastic Rings and Latex Things & The Side Effects of Therapy
by: Ronovan
Hello to my Faithful and perhaps some infrequent Flyby Friends of the Lost Mind. We are gathered here today to discuss . . . Therapy!
No, don’t run, don’t hide, and do not DENY!
I see you with your Krispy Kreme donuts. That . . . is NOT . . . therapy. Or is it?
Therapy is defined as ‘treatment especially of bodily, mental, or behavioral disorder’.
Oh my. Look around my little site and you will find much disorder, won’t you? I keep meaning to organize things but cannot seem to remember to do so. I would winky smiley face but I don’t have the strength. My right index finger is sprained. I may have to use the naughty middle finger instead. Perhaps I need a Krispy Kreme. For my Friends of Foreign firmas that are terra, that IS how the company actually spells the words. Don’t hate the spelling, eat the cake . . . the donut or doughnut if you want to really drag it out—whatever just eat the freaking pastry!
Do you take headache medicines? Did you know there are side effects? Do you ever read them?
“This may cause rash, itching/swelling (especially of the face/tongue/throat), severe dizziness, trouble breathing.”
And that’s just for Tylenol, and not even all of the possible ones.
I have to take medicines for my Fibromyalgia and my Migraines. Yes, I capitalize the M because they have earned it. If I don’t do so they then remind and demand it. But these medicines say they may cause pain in the joints or muscles and cause Migraines. Oh and of course possible death. Perhaps that is just their covering themselves from any oopsies.
So where am I going with all of this?
There are controversial therapies for treating all sorts of things. To relieve migraines and other such head ailments they once drilled holes in the skull. Of course then there was using leeches for those who were anemic.
(My apologies but I just could not bring myself to show the leeches. I am freaking out thinking about it.)
Now there is a balloon therapy for releasing your worries, pains, and hurts caused by either other people or just life in general. I learned about this on my friend Amanda’s site, Inside the Life of Moi, a wonderfully entertaining and tasty fare you really must partake of. Nom nom nom.
(Please remind me never to type ‘nom nom nom’ ever again for the rest of my days. Thank you.)
On this particular occasion Amanda became more serious than usual and shared a personal experience where she tried the balloon releasing suggested by a friend. This was after she resisted stabbing the innocent pain bombs as they floated around her. You really need to read the article. I may be explaining it incorrectly. I just know there were balloons and possible stabbings involved. Is it possible to band aid a balloon?
Upon reblogging said article I received replies about what the releasing balloons does to wildlife and the environment. Of course neither Amanda nor I would ever wish for any living creature to be harmed in any way. Amanda was merely saying people needed to let go of what ails them in order to heal. If she had for a moment thought an article such as hers would cause her intelligent readers to storm the stores for balloons and helium tanks to harm the planet, she would not have published said article.
Thus we come to a side effect of the balloon therapy, wildlife endangerment. There are plenty of sites that will give you all the details, but just know that latex isn’t good for wildlife. Choking of course is one side effect.
It reminds me slightly of the movie Happy Feet when the penguin voiced by Robin Williams has the six-pack plastic ring holder caught around his neck and then he ends up almost choking to death because of it. For a cartoon where you knew there was no harm you may have laughed. I didn’t laugh, but I have become or have always been a bit sensitive about certain things in film.
In real life the penguin would have died. Is that a pretty picture to you? Funny?
“Ronovan, oh Ronovan,” I can almost hear some of you say. “Why are you writing all of this drivel and randomness?”
Therapy. I was hurt by the response and a feeling of being attacked. These hurts were the side effects of being nice.
“So don’t do it again.”
Oh but I will, and you know I will. But as Amanda suggested, I’m letting go. I’m putting my hurts and pains down in words, placing them in the blogosphere, and letting them go. What will be the side effects of that?
There is a slight change in pressure as I step off the elevator. If the roar and whipping wind along the corridor does not given away the truth of what lay ahead, the white remnants of the day along the floor does.
The breeze whips around the corner of the passageway and the hours and miles of driving begins to melt away. Some say they can smell the air, but for me it is the feel of it, reaching for me, and wrapping around me—welcoming arms pulling me onward.
I turn the corner and see the palm trees sway and the rise of sand hiding what I have been aching for these long months. My pace quickens toward what is there at any pace I chose. It has been waiting for me for a long time. She is ever patient.
The smile spreads across my face and the yearlong pent up stress escapes. The metal gate clangs shut behind me, the final barrier between the two of us. I hurry along the tiled pool area of the hotel toward the wooden steps leading to my sandy salvation.
My sandals slide with a slight and reassuring twist on the wooden steps. Proof I am on the right path. Then I see her, moonlit rolling surf on her way to meet me, and calling me. “Hurry, it’s been too long.”
I slip off the leather that separates my feet from the cool sand. Each particle massages muscles that ache from too long without her touch. I ease my way forward. The breeze moves my shirt and blows in my ear like a lover that one wishes they had. Happiness is within reach, my feet step onto surf pounded sand, damp from millennia old waters.
The roar in my ears is like a lullaby drowning out all other sounds, or like the call of rejoice of one to another at a much longed for embrace. Perhaps that is why I love her so. She covers me with the first touch. Gentle, warm fingers wrap around my legs and urge me onward.
I walk a few more steps, close my eyes, and feel the sand wash away as I begin to sink into her. With each grain of sand and each retreating surf, another negative memory drifts away. Another glowing thought enters.
My shoulders slump, tension releases, muscles tremble. Yes.
Some love the sound of music to relieve their life, some a massage, and some art. For me the music of the surf, the massage of sand sifting and the art of the moon on the waves take it all away. Lovers come and go, but for me the ocean always returns and welcomes me whenever I need her.
“Welcome home, Ronovan, I’ve missed you.” I open my eyes, and see the moon on the waves and let the rhythm drift me away.
ronovanwrites 