a bloodless coup, or the high price of high drama

I was going to go to bed without writing tonight, and I was going to justify defaulting on my promise to write every day for the 21.5.800 challenge based on how sad and pathetic my life is and that nobody cares or wants to hear it. As my ex-brother-in-law used to say, should somebody call the Wah-mbulance? (Ya, I never really appreciated it then either).

This evening – indeed this whole week and beyond – I’ve been looking at how bankrupt my drama queen persona is, how little she serves me, and how completely repulsed I am by the cost of her domination. Sometimes I've fought her - I've been writing emails as her, then editing them as me. It's been a tiring game of mental chess, and once or twice I thought she might be winning - this has, after all, been a fairly intense month or so.

And then, it was over. Tonight someone made clear to me the cost of the drama. Someone I care about would rather not be in my life than continue to be subject to, and the target of, my upset. Part of my thinks ‘Lucky him, he has the choice to disconnect.’ But really, so do I.

And, why on earth would I choose not to? The drama queen does not think highly of who I really am. She’s a petty, vindictive tyrant who demands total allegiance and agreement from everyone she encounters. She doesn’t care for the facts, only for her interpretations of them. And she kills off anyone who disagrees.

The Drama Queen would have sat down this evening to lament her continually failing attempts to be loved. But I am not the Drama Queen. I am fun-loving, creative, powerful me - I’ve just been otherwise engaged for a while. Well, I'm back - and I've got the keyboard now, bitch.

Want to know what’s so with my life?

• I woke up this morning and ate gluten-free crisped rice. They were lovely – crunchier than those cheapo barley-malt infused Rice Krispies y’all can eat. And my new fridge seems to be set extra cold, so the milk was both fresh and refreshing. 
• I chatted with my sleepy-eyed son about his plans for the day and what I could do to support him. I made some phone calls for him, because he let me.
• I drove out to lovely lovely Sidney by the Sea and met with one of my favourite people, who is determined that our partnership will bring up both abundance and joy in our chosen forms of self-expression. He bought me a succulent salad for lunch and showed me a lovely home design store that’s marketing some of his products. (Yes, that is three 'lovely's in one bullet - I can  handle it if you can) 
• I popped by my new office to get my photograph taken for my work ID, and took a picture of the stunning heritage building I’ll be working in (it's down below - isn't it perfect!)
• I had a coaching call with an amazing, powerful someone who was so moved by what I’m creating in my life she actually got choked up.
• I hung out with Miss Sunshine as we packed her kitchen and drank a little and she shared with me all her hopes and dreams and fears and joy and frustration about moving to her new island home with her very sweet sweetie Big Mac.
• I came home and read an email I was both dreading and expecting.
• And I watched some TV and read a little, and now I'm writing this.

If the Drama Queen were writing this, it’d be twice as long and all you’d know about is the email and how truly tragic life is. Sure, someone wants some space. But you wouldn’t hear it like that – you’d hear how wronged she’s been.

That I can write this, sitting in my bed, smiling, and excited to see Miss Sunshine & Big Mac’s new house tomorrow tells me one really wonderful thing. The Queen is dead. Long may she rest.

So, now I’ve written. And I’ve publicly declared the end to the reign of the Drama Queen. And although I haven’t yet reached my 800 word goal, I’m going to sleep with a smile on my face, knowing that I might just have grown up a little today. And I liked it.

Oh, and just WAIT until you hear what I’m taking on next ... things are about to get deliciously dull around here!