A moan, an achievement and great chicken soup

So Blogger is finally available in Persian, Arabic and Hebrew? Cool. One of those languages is the native tongue around here, but I want English in the bar across the top of any Blogger blog screen.

Moan, moan, moan.

So, it’s been a while. Yes, sorry about that. You must forgive me. Here is my special place where I come when I wish to moan and get emo, and spill all the angst about how my life sucketh the big one.

I have other places for *other* reports. Yes… I do mean that. The choices I make about how to cope with the hell that I laughingly call my marriage are often not quite what you might call conventional or even wise… but godammit, they’re fun. But when I write about them, I go under a different name entirely. Here, the Minxdom is less about the Evil side of me (although I’ll be damned if I lose my handle, so it stays) and more about the cowering, frail and vulnerable Minx on the inside.

I don’t show her to many people. In fact, you guys are pretty much it. Feel honoured.

This place will always hold a very special place in my minxy li’l heart. And I’ve picked up a new linker. Duke Orsino over at Illyrical Despatches has been Minxified and linked me after one comment. Bless him, he doesn’t know what he’s letting himself in for.

Currently, I’m not moving anywhere. I hate packing and frankly, one break-through of my inertia a month is just about all I can handle. Yes! I have finally managed to do something. Not 100% sure what the outcome will be, but with the first few posts of Minx, way back when in 2005 (nearly 3 years ago… fuck how time flies!) I remember mentioning how I was learning to cope with that uncertainty, and to embrace it — rather than t eschew it as had been my wont for… oooh… my whole life.

What am I babbling about? Well I shall tell you. Contain your collective souls in patience.

I started therapy again. I did, honest. And I’m so pleased I did. I think, in the last six months, ever since I laid aside my plans to separate from CH (ostensibly due to compassion although deep down I suspect that my penchant for deep and frothy denial had much to do with it), I have been suppressing the feelings inside me like so many flowers in a press. Therapy is helping me loosen the bolts a little and I find myself able to think things through a little more comprehensively, without the constant problem-rushing-around-and-around-my-head feeling that I have been plagued with, and was probably a primary reason for the repression in the first place.

I’m getting stronger. Slowly. And soon, I hope to start effecting some changes. Practical changes. Telling CH about me being back in therapy is the first thing I plan to do.

Well don’t fall over in amazement. You’ve met me before and marveled at my astonishing gift for procrastination. It shouldn’t surprise you.

The reason I haven’t told him is because the last time I went into therapy, it was just prior to my telling him that I believed our marriage to be in irreparable trouble. And his reaction was, and I shit you not, “it’s that therapist. She’s told you that you need to get out of the marriage.”

The implication, of course, being that I cannot think for myself. Because, you know, I’m STOOOOPID.


So, anyway… the new therapist is turning out to be pretty damn great. I’ll keep y’all posted.

And the chicken soup in the title? I’ve been making it as I write. Write a paragraph, skim some scum off the surface. (Certain people will remember my very special name for the scum.) Write another paragraph, chop carrots and add to the pot. Write a couple more blocks, lift lid, stir and re-cover pot. It smells absolutely fabulous, and has made blogging in a very cold flat more of a pleasure than usual.

Personally, I think good chicken soup requires a side order of blogging to make it as good as it can be, and you know I am a Minx of my word. But does that make blogging the chicken soup for the soul?

You might think that. I couldn’t possibly comment.


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