One Day in the Life of Ivanka the Bitch, A Novel, Chapter 7
Chapter 7: Manky Toes
8.14 am — Getting ‘In Flow’…
Join businesswoman Ivanka Tupolevka on the day she’s about to lose everything in the apocalyptic gulag of her divorce, with no HRT, Brexshit and surrounded by ‘fuckers’, will she ever escape the psycho ex and save her daughter?
Still networking with the ladies…
Ah, seems like I missed the table change but here’s a lovely kind looking young lady joining me…
‘So… you teach energy release therapy and you’re looking for…? Right… To release their negative emotions. From their muscles…’
I’m going to have to have serious words with Lisa. Maybe I just shouldn’t have sat at the back. You have to bound right up to the front of the pack if you want to run with the alpha females.
Oh no, don’t do it, don’t bite!
‘Just their muscles then? Not bone or skin or toenails or hair? I mean, cos my hair can get really shitty with me sometimes and… I’ve got really evil toes! They’re full of negative energy, especially when I’ve eaten too much sugar. I get this horrendous itch and they practically fall off their stumps with my scratching. Drives me nuts. The doctor says it’s just athletes’ foot, that I wear trainers too much, but I know for a fact that it only happens when I’m back on the Baileys.
‘Oh, these are just symptoms of a deeper issue? Trapped emotions and all that, making me ill? Sorry, out of flow...’
Talk about sense of humour bypass.
‘So tell me this then, this is what I’ve never understood: Why are they trapped, and why there, in my toe? Or my hair?’
There’s definitely something wrong with me and I wish I could calm down this thing I feel bubbling up, be understanding of her world, and ‘work with her map’.
But I do understand it, her map, that’s the problem. And the faster she starts to question her beliefs, instead of blindly repeating what some money-grubbing little snake oil peddler has sold her, the better ‘teacher’ she’ll be. I believed everything the twat I married said and look how many years I wasted? How long was I a laughing stock? She needs to wake up to reality quick!
‘Self-defence is it? You mean, from other people’s negative emotions? You’re saying my hair is reacting to their negative energy? Negative energy that is managing to escape from them, leaving them perfectly unscathed, to get to me and apparently all without the aid of any expensive therapy?’
‘Oh sorry, I misunderstood. It’s my suppressed feelings about their negative energy! Now you see that makes much more sense because I didn’t start out in life having negative energy. That shit comes from people doing things to you, but then they didn’t start out that way either, so who did stuff to them? Chicken and egg. Where did it all begin? His arsehole parents? Is that what he told you?’
‘Oh, you’re not in a relationship, sorry.’
That’ll be why she doesn’t understand what I’m subtly trying to get her to question.
‘Maybe then, it’s just that we’re all picking up and passing round other people’s negative energy, like the flu’ and there’s not much you can do about that is there? Just a fact of life. Some of us, like my Mum, are hardy and it bounces off, and they don’t care. Some of us are just happy go lucky giggling idiots, blissfully ignorant of its existence and therefore immune. And some of us are well-schooled vicious old snot rags all the time.’
This flush is really bad and I don’t even know what I’m saying now. I’m a rambling idiot. Why can’t I stop saying stupid stuff? It just keeps escaping. What do I sound like? Can she see the panic rising? I must have changed colour… Can she see I’m on the verge of tears? Can she smell the dogs on me?
‘Oh, right, there’s no such thing as negative energy. It’s my energy, not theirs and it’s just stagnating.’
She doesn’t mean anything. She’s just a well-meaning dolt who’s yet to live any real-life challenges. But, aargh! I can’t help myself!
‘So, what you’re saying is, that I’m a cesspool with manky toes and bad hair because I don’t go round inflicting my anger on people? Yes, no. I know you didn’t mention anger. But, and don’t take this the wrong way, how can you, and I mean that in the general sense, not aimed at you or anything, but how can ANYONE identify what is necessarily a let’s say ‘strong’ emotion as being negative or positive? My mother, for example, thrives on creating aggro, bloody laps it up! She would cause an argument in an empty room. It’s great for her, she proudly admits it really sets her up for the day. But she is going to live merrily making my life a misery till she’s a hundred and twenty fucking five! If I survive long enough.’
‘Oh, she’s moving her energy on and that’s ok? She’s “in flow”. That’s why she’s happy and healthy and I’m the one with the problem? You’re saying I’m in the wrong because I’m the one NOT out of control attacking everyone?’
‘But I am in control, oh, controlling? I’m controlling? I’m…??’
‘And I’m being a bit aggressive?’
I’ll tell you what I am, I’m actually speechless.
No. No! I’m not having that, off a slip of a girl sitting there, sipping ‘toxin filled’ caffeine, doling out neat little paradigms and how old is she, twenty-three? I’m trying to save her life!
‘So what’s the answer then? You just wave your hands and poof, mass catharsis? All my problems just disappear? And I bet I don’t have to tell you about them, do I? You don’t even need to know what they are! How long did it take you to master this then, sensei? A weekend in Torbay?
‘And what if I do want to talk about it? And what if these negative emotions are doing me some good and I shouldn’t ‘let go’ of them? You know, like they’re there to stop me making more mistakes? Like giving me the whatnots to protect my kids from other arseholes…
‘Oh you’re off now, are you? Gosh you are sensitive, aren’t you? I’m sure there’s a therapy for that! But then, no, that’s a blessing in your job, isn’t it? But weakness in my life! You have to understand you see I…’
Oh shit! Ow! My fucking jaw has locked! My ear is killing me! I hate it when this happens. I can’t turn my neck to see where she’s gone.
Next Chapter…
To start from the beginning…
Copyright Alexis Behrend June 2021.
