Admittedly, there was a time (longer than I would care to admit) where everything I did was dictated by horoscopes.
It was a torturous release for those like me who crave nothing more than to control every second of every minute of every hour of everyday. It felt good – safe even, knowing what kind of day I was going to have.
I was the hoarder of horoscopes. I kid you not. Every morning at precisely 8:00 am my inbox would be flooded with online oracles of how my day would be. And we’re not talking one or two email subscriptions – oh no – I had 17 messages sent from online astrological “experts.” Who, coincidentally, also were “experts” at speaking with the dead, deciphering dreams, tarot, and predicting the future. But those services came at a cost and a credit card. I never went that far, I always thought if I did – that would indicate some major red light or warning sign that I had gone too far. And we all know there’s no respectable 12 step program for a horoscope addiction.
Everyday, at 8 am I would read each paragraph with apprehension. Was I going to have a good day? Was I going to meet my soul mate? Or was today going to be a stay in bed and eat all the chocolate in the world day?
I always wondered why they contradicted themselves. How could I be starting something new with someone old – and get broken up with simultaneously? How could I be assured that one day was going to incredible with high mood levels, when the next post would tell me that I would feel two paces away from suicidal?
I know what you’re thinking – I should have seen the holes. But I’m an “expert” at mental gymnastics and I found away to make it work. When ever my tummy would churn from news of impending doom, I would read another post and that would convince me that I was cured from the curse of a terrible day.
It’s so stupid – I know. I want to lie and say I was young and didn’t know better. But I did. I truly did.
That moment before checking my inbox was anxiety ridden – like waiting for an acceptance letter or that phone call from your prospective employer. Or alternatively – that moment before you find out if you’re getting expelled. You get the point.
Why they would all arrive at 8 am was attributed to some mystical astrological phenomena that I simply could not fathom. Well – that is until I later realised that you could dictate the time the email was sent out. It was then when I started to notice the magic fading.
The stars ruled my life – they told me who my friends could be and who my boyfriends couldn’t.
I would find myself asking a person what their star sign was 15 minutes into meeting them – and if they weren’t members of the elite few that could bear to stomach my unique brand of crazy – then it was over. Done. A closed book – and one I would never visit again.
In retrospect – I think I did them the favour.
Everything needed to fit in my compartmentalised mind- to make sense.
Relationship were the worst. Once finding out their star sign, I would visit the usual suspects and fill in the online forms to find out our astrological compatibility. I would take the knowledge and run it through a statistics analysis – what were the odds of us actually working out? The higher the odds of failure – the more insecure I was. And if he cleared, then it was a matter of time before I would get the email telling me to end my toxic relationship.
Do I believe in horoscopes?
I don’t know. Does it matter?
We’ve all been there – desperate for an answer, in need for some guidance – but at what cost?
Nothing should have that power of you. Nothing should dictate every aspect of your life – and nothing whether online or off can tell if you if something is meant to work out.
Horoscopes aren’t bad, but they shouldn’t consume you. Everything in moderation.
You are you. So be you.
Sweet Dreams World.