Hey, unicorn baby. How are you today?
I hope the Sunday Scaries didn’t come a'knockin and kick Monday into a bad swing. Remember to take a deep breath, masturbate before bed, and drink some motherfucking water. You know your Auntie G knows best.
Currently, I’m sitting at my desk on a cold evening in London - well, afternoon, but it gets so damn dark here so early that it feels like evening. The sun set at 3:45 today and I was like, “The F are you doing, sun? It is the DAYTIME. Get your sparkly ass out from behind that building and give me some vitamin D.”
I’m riding a very lovely Xanax chill after my husband physically put one in my mouth because my anxiety was so bad all day that I thought I was going to either hyperventilate into a full-on panic attack or throw up. Maybe both. Who’s to say?
Obviously I asked him to get the Xanax for me and he popped it in my mouth like the little darling he is. He was obviously relieved when I went the “drugs needed” route. I try to avoid it, but occasionally it’s just better to end the suffering so you can live your life without a constant feeling of dread, you know?
I’m feeling just OK now. That’s all any drug could do for me in this mental state - take the pit out of my stomach so I can think clearly. As a student-therapist and educator, I need to be in control of myself to be a safe container for clients. Oddly enough, that’s when I’m my most calm and centered: Being a support system and guide for others. It gets me out of my head and allows me to form connections and help people I truly value and care for. This therapist-to-be is coming to be a real vocation. And for all the beautiful people who let me into your most vulnerable selves, I thank you for that.
This new path is welcomed as I sit here at my desk, in my new high-backed office chair, basically watching the uncertainty of my career span before me, and helplessly feel the little control I have slipping away through my fingers. You know, the usual, casual things.
In more sinister news to add from last week’s depressing saga: Instagram’s new guidelines are batshit crazy - and getting my restrictive every single day. You’re not allowed to talk about, hashtag, or discuss essentially sex at all.
The hashtag #sexpositive is still banned. They went a step further and banned #sexeducator, #sexeducation, and #sexed. Meaning, any content that contains these hashtags are hidden - the content we educators make for you won’t be shown to our audiences or anyone looking for good, accurate sex ed information. #Sexeducator and #sexeducation have since been reinstated, but every single time I post something I double check in the search bar just to be sure … because we never know, you know?
I don’t know yet what all of this sex-negative BS means for my work. I’ve been devising sneaky ways to get around the restrictions, but with so much of my income tied to advertising on my IG platform, as well as working with sexuality brands who rely on social advertising, it’s not looking particularly positive out there. Seriously dark times ahead, it seems.
I’ve decided the best I can do is share my articles with you guys as much as possible - that’s the bulk of my educational content. I’m still posting on IG, but have been forced to censor my content significantly. I wish I could just fuck off IG and not use it for the moral righteousness of it all, but we’re all hopelessly ensnared in their puritanical web. Thanks a lot, Zuckerberg. That guy seriously needs an epic blowjob. That would fix him right up.
Anyway, I hope you have a gorgeous week full of work promotions and a million orgasms. Sending you positive energy and all my love.
This week’s mantras:
- I will be open to compromise.
- I will work with what the world gives me and use what I can to my advantage.
- I will remember my worth.
- I will love myself.
I love you. Have a great week!