That’s quite a concept that’s hard for me to grasp. I mean, can you imagine, a fucking tarot reader, going for a tarot reading from other tarot readers? My clients would fucking laugh. But they don’t know, right? They come looking for me, crying and begging for life, “I am in a dire fucking need, I almost give up, I am desperate, please help.” One thing that they don’t know, beneath all those affirmations that I give, besides all of those “You can do this, just one more slow breath and then you’re done”, I too share the same thing, desperation, the feeling of helplessness. They’re lucky that they have me. While me, where do I go? Nada, nowhere.
These past few weeks, I’ve grown tired, physically, emotionally, energetically. I am tired, i’ve been having psychosomatic symptomps, which one of the signs that my body sent to me, I’m not fine. But being me, with all those walls that’s been naturally built, am I gonna admit that I’m not fine? Sure. Of course. But I can’t grasp the source, I don’t know why I’m tired, I don’t know why I’m so stressed out and my battery has been so fucking low, no matter how many times I charge it a day. I tried to take a fucking dump, but I feel like the Universe being such a fucking prick, once again, they fucking told me, “Where else you’re gonna go? Nowhere, you’re alone, you’re all by yourself.” So, when nobody seems to be available for me, the only thing that I could do was, finally, crying in the middle of the road. Fucking sad little creature.”
Well, doctors don’t heal themselves, but who’s a better doctor than my self, right? I’ve been growing beileving that there is nobody that could help me than my own self, I can’t lose me. But when I no longer can rely on me, whom can I rely on? who?
Awarely choosing tarot reader as a fucking profession means I know the consequences and the risks. I know that people will come looking for me for taking a dump, finding advices and solutions for God knows what, and it will never fucking stop. The other day, a friend popped out in my dm, asking where I was, he was blocked by his girl. While I, this tired fucking bitch, can’t even say no for people’s cry for help, I gladly welcomed him. There he came. What did he get? a fucking solution and a clear map of his fucking problem. What did I get? a fucking lesson that I’ve already known.
Well, yeah, doctors don’t heal themselves, sure. I’m not looking for any anyway, if I have to fucking crumble, I’ll fucking crumble, it’s not new anyway. The tower has always been in my path anyway. You want me to go down? I’ll go fucking down, I can always find my way up anyway.
Yeah, fuck it. Doctors don’t fucking heal themselves.