I wrote yesterday in a jocular manner that I felt like a smudge because of all the treatments. But today I feel worse, like I have been killed but they didn't quite finish the job.

Who is my murderer? It could be Sapt, the personal trainer, who this morning made me flip myself backwards over a Swiss Ball, or it could be the masseur from yesterday who I heard murmur the word 'toxins' over the sound of whale song in the treatment room or it could be my boss who commissioned me to go into a floatation tank, despite the fact that its left me traumatised and confused, as I confronted what it must have been like in the womb?

Or could it be that trying to get fit means you hit a point where your body, freaking out from the newness of it all cannot get through the day without a nice hot cup of tea, a lie-down and a bit of a whinge?

It seems right now my body is rebelling against all this strangeness and all it wants to do is curl into a ball (not a Swiss one) and sleep. Forever.

As for the Shamanic Trance Dance I am meant to be attending tonight as part of this project, I think it (my physical self) likes the idea of trance (not too far from my normal state) but not the idea of dance. As for Shamanic, well it's not quite sure what that is.

Labels: fatigue, Shamanic trance dance, Swiss Ball