In the past two weeks, I have been told that I am broken in 3 different contexts, none particularly nasty, yet quite resounding. This pertains to the physical. My poor shell has been a little worse for wear lately, which unfortunately has affected the inner workings also. Some stuff happened, which left me somewhat bent out of shape like a crunchy pretzel, and I currently have Vertigo. I have had it once before, and it really messes with me. It encapsulates about 3 of my fears into one awful affliction. Perhaps self inflicted, perhaps not, yet it still leaves me in a state of constant fear and disorientation.
Today, only after discovering acute pain points in my back yesterday, I thought I’d finally try and get something done about it. I booked a massage. What could be the worst outcome…I said to myself. If it didn’t work, at least I would have had a nice massage right? Oh. My. Fucking. Holy. Mother. Of. GOD!
To begin with, being mostly naked has a distinct way of making you feel quite vulnerable, especially in front of a complete stranger, who is about to become intimately acquainted with your skin. This fragile looking young woman slips into the dimly lit room and puts on some soft music. Towels are draped carefully to cover all exposed skin initially. Shuffling…then silence, broken only by the lilting of pan flutes. Pan flutes! They create an air of tranquility right? It was a LIE!
Now, I don’t know exactly how she got there, but the next thing I feel…she is kneeling on my back with her elbows firmly embedded in the soles of my feet. She proceeds to (what I can only assume, as I was too scared to look) tear clumps of muscle from my calves and reattach it. She spins around and works her way up my back on her hands and knees, quietly adding “Let me know if too hard?” At this point, if I had any breath left in my body, I’m not sure what I could have said.
Her deceivingly strong, devil fingers applied oil and heat balm (in all likelihood in case I died) then pierced my upper back, and wrapped around under my shoulder blades, to lift them from under the skin, and twist them to the correct angle. As she bunched the muscles in my arms, fists were involuntarily clenched and released, and I think there’s a possibility my shoulder muscles are now contained safely under the flesh of my palms. She lifted my skull and tucked my spinal chord back under there, possibly reattaching it to whatever had become disconnected. And at the end, I’m pretty sure she twisted my neck to breaking point. Hot towel, little pat on the back, and “You can sit up now”. Umm…nope.
After a few minutes, I feebly redressed, and made my way out feeling numb and unable to face daylight. I’m fairly confident that there is a strong impression of my breasts, hips, and some internal organs left on that bench. When the feeling fully returns to my body, I’m hoping that it worked, or at least helped some.
Always read the fine print. Ow.