Curandero

One of the images that most sticks to my head, is that moment where Bambi gets shot by the hunters and falls to the floor, completely defeated. Suddenly, a thunderous voice commands him to "GET UP!" Bambi looks up, and there you see his father, standing in all is majestic glory.

So, the Universe's sucker-punch to the back of my head came yesterday, as made obvious by the previous post.

It was pretty fucking intense.

So intense, I was unsure about today. 

No, not whether or not I would live to see it, but just how we'd move on.

To say it was an explosion would be putting the shit mildly.

I went off the motherfucking handle... so much so, I'm now on house suicide-watch.

Ummm... yeah. I bet 8-year-old me never saw THAT one coming.

After my... dramatic display of... distress... was done, even I thought "Goddamn, am I possessed or something?"

I said some things that... were downright HEARTLESS. The worst part? I enjoyed it... I did it all with a very cynical... some might say maniacal... smile on my face.

THAT'S what scared me... and made me consider visiting some Veracruz Curandero... have some shaman shake me down with some sacred palm leaves while chanting some ancient, healing verses or something.

The showdown was between Mom and I... and... well, if there was any sort of "victory," I guess it would be me... if victory is considered "uttering the meanest shit possible and making the opponent crumble into uncontrollable sobs." Then yeah, I won. Because, like I said, I didn't cry (during the showdown. "Before" was a completely different story), and I left the room once D was huddled over my violently sobbing Mom, hugging her, pretty much shielding her from me.

I made my mom crack.

And I didn't feel like shit...

which is what kind of scared me.

Holy shit! Am I deranged?!

I thought once the new day would begin, I'd no longer have a computer, a phone, a car, or a house (the threat was made yesterday, to which I responded with something that... might be frowned upon by most societies... maybe not samurais). THAT'S how intense this fight with Mom was last night.

When I woke up, I stayed in my room, not wanting to touch or eat anything, because I swear I thought I was going to get evicted any second.

Instead, I came to realize I was just under suicide watch.

Great.

It's safe to say I've seen better days.

(But in all seriousness, I'll be ok.)