On Monday morning, the stress hit me like The Bus that Couldn’t Slow Down*. Money stress. A great deal of money stress. And after all my careful planning (and only buying ONE of the twenty-dollar, ridiculously cute pairs of shoes I fell hopelessly in love with at Target the day before), I felt betrayed. I wanted to stab the Universe in the eye. I made sacrifices! I turned off my AC! I’m trying here, Universe! Doesn’t that count for something?
But you know how it goes. You argue with the Universe and that spot in your shoulder starts to hurt. Then your jaw starts to ache from having it set so tight in defiance. And by the end of the day, you’re scrunched down in your office chair as close to reclined as you can get and still earn a paycheck and you haven’t cried yet but damn it, you’re close. And by you, I mean me.
So I made an appointment for a massage. Both my mom and my best girl cleverly gifted me with hour-long massages for my birthday (me? stress out easy? pshaw) and I’d been saving them for the right time. Like, the day after the marathon relay. Or, the day when it turns out I have to empty my entire savings account and use the money that I’d been saving for a new mattress that won’t ruin my back for something far, far less gratifying. I’m getting tense again just thinking about it. Serenity now. Okay. I feel better. Let’s continue.
In the “Serenity Room” at the chain massage joint, I was finally feeling a little relaxed and, astoundingly, thinking less about money and more about… falling water. I’ve always felt those miniature waterfall machines were a little cheesy, but that baby got me to stop seeing dollar signs emblazoned in neon green on the insides of my eyelids. I considered getting one for my apartment. And hiding it when company comes.
“Miss Hunter?”
“Mmm hmm?” I answered without opening my eyes. Surely he didn’t need eye contact for whatever transaction we were about to have.
“I see you’ve marked ‘Swedish Massage’ on your form. But your appointment is with Andrew. His specialty is deep tissue.”
I considered this for a second, eyes still closed. Deep tissue would probably be good for me. Detox, and all. So I consented.
“So, full body, firm massage. Great. Andrew will be right with you.”
I mmm hmmmed him again. Moments later, Andrew was right with me and that’s when all serenity ceased. Over the next sixty minutes, Andrew beat the ever-loving crap out of me. I won’t say I didn’t like it. Because I did. I got some perverse pleasure out of having an elbow driven into my upper back and feeling the electrical shocks down in my toes. But I don’t have to tell you that, perverse pleasure aside, the experience was not at all relaxing. The tears in my eyes were not that of sweet release, they were from pain.
The next morning, as I was fumbling my way out of running clothes to hop into the shower, I caught my reflection in the mirror and did a double take. What the hell? It looked like a dime sized mole had sprouted up on my lower back. On closer inspection, I discovered it was a bruise (one of many that would show up over the next couple days), by far darker than any I’d ever seen on my ghostly white flesh. I pressed it. It hurt. I pressed it again, just to be masochistic. And then I thought about how, when I was a kid and I complained of any kind of injury (say on my right knee) my father would offer to punch me in the left. “It’ll make you forget about the other one!” Which is really all Andrew did. I haven’t worried about money in days because I’ve been too preoccupied counting bruises.
The one on my left thigh is particularly attractive.
* Fact: Any day I get to reference Homer Simpson is a good day.
Fish ~
Unfortunately, Andrew should have asked you if the pressure was too much. Deep Tissue doesn’t have to mean Deep Bruises!
I’m sorry that something so wonderful as a massage has possibly turned you against it. In my opinion, there is nothing better than finding the right therapist (and I mean ‘massage’, not mental!) who knows you, your pressure points and how much force to apply.
All that being said, I’ve experienced some bruises from deep tissue massages before, but not without my therapist asking ‘is that too much pressure?’. If I say ‘no’, then she puts all of her 100 lbs into one elbow and gives me the business! It’s a bit painful, but good pain – if that makes sense!
I hope you try it sometime again. I know it has changed my life drastically…that and taking deep breath’s throughout the day. I used to think that was hogwash, but I tried it and it does in fact work!
Good luck!
Jim
To be fair, he did ask, and I said it was okay. I didn’t know I was going to be bruised!
Hi, Fish! Sorry you had a bad experience with your massage! I hate to rip on Andrew here, but the only bruises I ever got from a deep tissue massage were from an inexperienced masseuse (and I am also very, very fair-skinned). I decided I’d rather beat myself up at the gym, but every once in a while, I just need someone’s elbow embedded in my spine. Perverse? Yes. Relaxing? Not so much. But that’s what trashy romance novels are for!
Thanks for the info! I’ll make sure never to book a deep tissue, I want relaxation all the way!
I get bruises during my deep tissues a lot of the time, too. Soreness and tenderness that lasts for days. It seems masochistic, but I keep going back because I know it’s good for me. As a matter of fact, I’m due for one soon… thanks for reminding me!
I am so sorry for your troubles! Universe is NOT fair, as it turns out. I hope things turn around quickly for you – you are an amazing writer, and I hope that you get rewarded for that talent! (and I second – or third? – the comment from Jim…good massage therapists check in with you).
when it rains it pours! just when you think it can’t possible get worse…grrr!
when this sort of ongoing ****fest happens to me, i hide in my cave and lay low. i’m sure that’s not the mature solution but at least i’m not getting into additional unnecessary trouble in my hermitic hovel. that is until the cabin fever sets in and then i take a walk to the grocery store or somewhere seemingly harmless.
here’s to shaking the rough streak off!
The movie was called “The Bus that Couldn’t Slow Down”
Classic!
Part of my ‘expanded’ job description includes bringing big ass high def TVs (up to 52″ monstrosities) up tenement or brownstore stairs sometimes totalling as much as 5 flights – no elevator. I’ve recently been diagnosed with a ‘frozen shoulder’. Not to be confused with the ‘cold shoulder’. Which begs the question why treat a ‘frozen’ shoulder with an ice pack. But it did work. The Russian PT (physical therapist who worked part time) had a very sparse rehab room reminiscent of Rocky training in Russia by pulling push carts in the snow. No swimming pools, no high tech nautilus machines. You know what? He was good. He would say in a thick accent “you must vork into the pain” not force a threshhold. In that way the exercise (or yoga) becomes fun – you’re not afraid anymore that some horrible unforeseen pain that is on the horizon will materialize. His means to increase range of motion – a broom handle and rolled up towel (alright – get your mind out of the gutter). “Serenity now!”
Oh no!!! I remember sitting in those Brookstone massage chairs and pressing the deep tissue button. It was like being molested by a chair. I’m not very good at massages either, I’m far too ticklish.
But I must warn you abou those miniature waterfall machines. One day they can be the best thing ever and then the next, you want to hurl it against the wall.
Sue him, sue him, sue him!
Stress…..
I used to worry. Then one day I just stopped.
The problem is the stress just found another way to get to me.
Now every 6 months or so I have to visit an Osteopath who manages to get my shoulders in the correct places again.
Some days when the pain’s really shooting up the side of my face to rest behind my eye socket I really wish I worried a bit more often
I hope things improve for you Heather. Best wishes in the meantime.
Ha ha my dad would always make that same offer if I complained of anything hurting.
Hi Fish,
I’m so sorry about all your money woes; I too am in the same boat. My money woes stems from being unemployed for 3 months although on Friday I was offered a job! WOOHOO! So now, money will still be a problem till we catch up, but perhaps the knot in my shoulders too will learn to escape. Once I get paid I’m going to book a massage although hopefully mine won’t be as painful.
Am I the only insane person that thinks deep tissue massage sounds awesome right about now? My left shoulder is wrapped so tight I could probably touch my earlobe with it.
Money concerns are the worst!! I’m glad you were able to get a massage, as I think they are the BEST. I used to live in big D and just a little FYI in case you want to try a different place… I used to go to Sterling Health Center up in Addison, as it is a Massage School and they have students as well as graduates. The students are a bit cheaper and you don’t have to tip them!! If you get a real therapist it’s just a little higher in cost but still very reasonable as compared to a spa.
Good luck with the bruises…
I have my very first ever massage scheduled for two weeks from now (the day before my now cancelled wedding date- I may be a little tense then). Now I’ll know not to get “deep tissue” massage. I’m no delicate flower, but I’ll leave the bruises for another time thankyouverymuch.
And now I totally want a massage right this minute.
If you happen to be talking about the massage place over in Old Town, then might I suggest Amy for your next visit?
Very relaxing – she did literally put me to sleep.
I prefer the deep-tissue (Robyn and Jennifer) – it hurts so much at the time, but waking the next morning without knots and stiffness makes every last second of massage discomfort worth it!