Saying no to knives cutting

Hey girls something NEW!!! I had this experience which made it so clear that it actually pays to be sober. πŸ™‚ Well, yeah, I have been happy that I quit but with the concussion that feeling has somehow been dunno, overruled by some internal moaning about, well, everything and anything. But…. well, in earlier posts I have mentioned visions of knives circling my body and making cuts everywhere. It is not a nice thing to ‘experience’. I am not sure how they got introduced into my life (anymore). I can remember these images following situations in which I hurt so badly that I felt that if I cut my skin open, the hurt would ‘just’ come out. I never really did, not really really. The images however stayed and the knives got to lead a life of their own.

The other day the knives visited. I had been doing admin and paying a bill and the second I hit ‘transfer’ I opened up a new page in the admin folder (Hurray! Organisation!) which said I had already paid the bill. Or not, or… Dunno, can’t read it very well because of PANIC!!!! So I guess I’ll call them. I thought I was organised and then this happened and there came the knives. I looked at them and the only thing I felt was surprise and this ‘excuse me?!’ That would be in the way that you say “Excuse me asshole”. That was NEW. And strange. So something inside me tries to walk the old path of self-destruction and then the other part is totally surprised and doing this ‘talk to the hand’ thing. I find it really strange how this works internally. And next: I AM HAPPY that I could deflect this destructive vision. It is my understanding that this is very much a result of quitting drinking but even more of the ‘What would a woman who loves herself do’. Well, she would not stand in the way of those knives and she would not tolerate anyone, not even herself to behave like that.

Practising asking and answering the question ‘What would a woman who loves herself do?’ has been on top of my list of things to do. Actually, it is the only, well, what I call sober practise I have apart from blogging and reading blogs. All things I do for me after I quit drinking are filed as ‘sober practise’. Maybe I should call it liberation practise :-).

The funny thing with this question is that I only answer it within my means. And it is normally something like:

– she would stop stressing over something she can not change
– put on socks because her feet are cold
– make some nice tea because she needs a break
– go to bed because actually she is really tired
– clean the house because she berates herself over not doing it
– enjoy cleaning the house because there is no use in disliking it
– even if she does not enjoy it at this moment not put energy in disliking it anymore, feeling neutral about it is better
– eating some chocolate because she thinks she has deserved that
– stop eating chocolate because she does not feel like it anymore
– have a nice meal
– spend money on vegetables to juice because she feels under the weather
– pat the cat because that makes her happy
– cry because actually she is very sad
– call a friend because she misses the friend
– take time to repair from what the boss says because she needs that
– go outside for a walk even though it is raining
– write a blog because things need sorting out
– go to bed during daytime because the concussion is bothering her.
– get out of bed to turn of the wifi
– get out of bed to make a hot water bottle
– get out of bed and take a shower because she thinks she would feel better after

I find it interesting and surprising how these tiny, tiny actions build up to me feeling better. You know, my cat used to bite hair of her legs and have some bold patches. Since I practise the WWAWWLHD questions she is growing hair there again. I also feel we connect better. And not only with the cat. I also feel I connect better with people because I connect better with myself. I can be nicer, I don’t have to use this hurtful humour I used to ‘like’ before I quit. I am learning to leave hurtful humour outside me when I encounter it in my surroundings. I start to realise more and more how we, in the family lacked real connection and security. My GP file from teenage time says ‘dysfunctional family’ more and more I am starting to see how this was true for every aspect of the family structure. Sad. 😦 Happy in a sad way that I am learning to things differently.

Also, I have started to (try to) live again. What I notice is that I am surrounded by sad situations and people. And EVERY person I meet tells me something sad they worry about. Guy at Facebook, haven’t spoken to him in months, pops up ‘finished with girlfriend’. Today I decided: stuff it. I am listening to you, and after that I let it go. By occupation I was consultant, if that is actually possible to be consultant by occupation (?). Well, in the field I consulted in I also do stuff, make stuff. I have not made something for a long long time and this week I have started on a project for my SIL. Funny enough the concussion still bugs me; while drawing up the technical specifications I noted that I was not able to think ahead so what I will be doing is a lot of trial and error. But that is ok. Take off the pressure and just make. Do. Ghegheghe, not think and write. πŸ˜‰

So yes, I’m off!

I am happy that I quit.

I need: to continue learning to take care of myself and maybe step away from the idea that I am still a patient who needs treatment.

WWAWWLHD: make tea and eat blueberries πŸ™‚

I take: no pills, 100 grams of 72% chocolate a day, some dates and I a pint of vegetable juice every second day now. It feels like it helps against the little lightning thingies I have in my head with the concussion (and staying behind the screen for so long…. :-/)

And I forgot the rest. The most important is being happy that I quit. I hope you are happy that you quit too. πŸ™‚

Wishing you a nice sober day!

xx, Feeling

Never lost aΒ thing β€” abbie in wondrland

Shared from Abbie in Wondrland an eyeopening post: Most every time I’m with a group of sober people, someone talks about the things they lost because of their addiction. β€œI lost my kids, my spouse, job, my truck, my self-respect, etc., etc., etc. to my drug of choice.” Really? I gotta say that I agree with what an oldtimer used to say aboutΒ […]

via Never lost aΒ thing β€” abbie in wondrland




Thought I could write something about anger. Not sure if I ever. Or did I? Hmmm, what I notice more and more is that I have this all or nothing attitude and it is pretty unstable. Today I almost quit my job because somebody did not turn down the radio when I asked, well, he changed the channel and so the song but not the volume, or possibly not enough for me to notice. Did I tell you he is the guy I think/thought/not sure might be in love with and that I had unfriended him on Facebook in my mind already? God I sound like a teenager… And then the guy dropped by at my table and handed me some left over goods he saved for me to take home and I melted and realised that there is no harm in what he does/did and if I want to know I should just ask. Not quit my job.

Actually, when writing this down I feel very much like, dunno, indeed a teenager. I know this anger from PMS, when I had PMS, or when I was aware of my PMS because I still had an M. Now I have this internal Myrena thingy, with progrestron hormones so there is no building up of lining, no embedding of the egg and no shedding of the lining so no M from the PMS. But maybe the S is still there :-D. I should track that. There should be an app for it. πŸ˜€

So, the first thing I thought when realising that my bank account was above zero was: ‘Ha! Now I’ve got some fuck you money again so I can quit my job when they push me too far again.’ I realised that I had not quit my job because I could not afford it. Can I add in here that I am genetically handicapped with this? My grandfather from my fathers side has quit at least 20 jobs because he did not like what the boss said. He once was in a new job on his first day and the boss ordered him to make coffee which was one of his tasks. But the boss forgot that according to my granddad, he should have asked that nicely. :-D. This was in the ’40 or ’50 of the last century: Europe lay in ruins because of the 2nd world war. Nobody had any money and there is my granddad saying ‘%#$@!! I quit! You bourgeois pig!’ And so my grandmother went out to find a cleaning job again, next to her 4 kids and household while he was at home ‘studying’ and demanding steak because this was said to be good for his brain. People only ate meat on Sundays in that time.

So, anger. Loads of it. And of the explosive type. Before I had a little money (well, like 1,5 months salaries left after almost paying everything…) I had the idea that this job would be a really really good place to learn to stand up for myself and deal with anger issues. Aah, that is how I view money…. ; a possibility to run away from the very much-needed growth process. Among the same lines I think I would not relapse over misery, I would relapse over winning the lottery. Freedom is still: to not feel, to not have to grow, to not have to develop, to not have to deal, to not have to adult.

I find it difficult to do things on my own. But I do not see how on earth anybody ever, would be interested in being with me in a relation. I mean, a lot of times I can’t even stand myself. I am learning to love me, but the foundings I guess are still rotten. No, that is not a good description. My pattern is to not love me. But I have learned a lot about loving me and doing the loving thing, to take care. So what do I feel I am lacking? Aah, I am lacking the consistent medium and long-term care. I only do the short-term like putting on socks and making tea. Currently my feet are blue because I am not wearing socks, and I am not drinking tea while thirsty. I have not deserved it obviously.

I feel stupid because I had a conversation with my boss today and I think she does not believe my concussion is real. Which is why I came home and have now, for almost 9 hours been self destructive with watching tv and doing other screen things while eating chocolate and not dining while I have good leftovers from yesterday.

I go to bed. This is not a healthy path to walk on. More navel staring when navel staring is due.

I am happy that I quit. πŸ™‚ Quitting is good.

xx, Feeling


To not cut the hair

To not cut the hair. My SIL came to help me with my finances. Everything turned out to be all-rightish. I even got to pay the rent I had outstanding and one month ahead and there was still some money left. So now I can, I don’t know, relax a little? Having said that: wcropork is slow momentarily, summer season and I do not make a lot of hours so maybe, maybe I will be needing that what I have in order to get through summer. :-/

Well, I did….. go to the hairdresser after looking at my bank account. I had thought that I would let it grow until it was so long that it would still be long if I cut off the last bit of ‘old hair’. There is some symbolism in my hair. The moment I decided I would quit drinking I also had this strange thought out of nowhere saying ‘I might as well not dye my hair anymore’. So the grey hair is about deciding. The quitting date is later because I prepped for quitting for I think about 10 days.

My hairdresser was all for cutting off the old bits since they actually are not totally healthy anymore but I could not. Made me wonder what I was still ‘hanging on to’. I feel that when I cut off the last bit of my dyed hair that I am throwing away the memories of how bad it was. I need those memories to help me shape a new life.

And/even though: lately, already for a long time, I feel like this new life is not happening. Which, in essence is not really true, but still. I have the idea I am standing still. I feel that everytime I am ready to make a step forward, something pops up to keep me where I am. The concussion I have being the latest in that. My nice collegue says about life something like “We have all these thoughts and wishes about life but we forget that THIS IS IT. What we are doing here and now, that is our life.” Which I find really reassuring. Until I find myself undressed, not washed, not fed but eating chocolate, not getting my fluids in, watching Netflix. The concussion was there to change it all. I was sitting, being mindful, no screens, cleaning, resting, cooking, sleeping. I loved it. And the moment I got a little better I IMMEDIATELY upped the screen time to the point where I am not having a headache again, while this concussion happened 4 weeks ago.

I started reading Nakken again, ‘The addictive personality’. I still have much to learn and much to undo. But/and I feel I need to do more. But I also think to know I can’t. Having buried a friend last week was/is a BIG THING.Β  Having asked for help with my finances last week was another BIG thing. I think I need to learn to accept that I cannot do all.

Ooh, above, a cut out of my new and old hair. If the old hair down below it is at all visible. And yes, this is my idea off my hair thinning out :-/ I see now why my GP thought I might show a ‘little’ hypochondria when worrying about hair loss the other day …. πŸ˜€ (OMG, will I ever learn?)

Ooh, in conversation with my teenager niece: I told her about my egg-timer and putting stickers on it with questions (wwawwlhd?) or assignment (breathe / relax ). She listens to my story and then replies: “I have an app for that, it is called Booster Buddy.” Ghegheghe, do I feel old. πŸ˜€ I am computer savvy, have, in the last 10 years learned at least 5 new programs a year amongst which (parametric) digital drawing, laser and cnc router control programs so not your easiest stuff BUT I DO NOT WANT TO BE ONLINE ON MY PHONE! So I don’t have apps. Just don’t want to have to sort this all out in my private time as well. However, trying to get to a funeral by public transport in a panic mode and not being able to think clearly about what bus where and when has changed my mind about this. No action yet though. I already have a subscription with plenty online time (they don’t come without anymore) but I do not use it. Another one of those refusal thingies, hanging on to what I know.

Wondering now how much of the hiding my drinking has to do with not wanting to be connected with my phone. Hmmm…. When drinking in the evening I would shut down my phone and computer by the time I got to the 4th/5th glass because I did not want to speak to others anymore. Did not want them to find out I was getting pissed. Did not want to bother them with my issues because I knew I would not be ‘real’. Did not want to make a fool of myself. Was ashamed.

My friend died. He had lung cancer and it had spread. He was given 2 months but the immense and intense health care that his wife, one of my best friends (Hi A! And… you might want to skip these 3 paragraphs because it is about you wanting to live unhealthily for a few days and my internal reaction to that.) had set up has kept him with us 4 years. :-). He was a beautiful person, with a great, great, brilliant mind, absolutely intelligent. His candle burned at both ends though. His diet existed of all things healthy amongst which a lot of eco vegetable juices. Because of feeling so absolutely low last week I got to juicing again myself. I did so when I just quit drinking and I think it has helped me a lot in feeling well. Last week I needed all hands on deck to keep me afloat. For the funeral I had juiced some extra to keep me going through the day and I thought it fitting for me to say goodbye to him while drinking a juice.

During a car ride I offered some of the juice to his wife and she said something like: “I can’t see any juice anymore. I will be drinking (edit: alcohol) and eating junk food for at least 3 days.” Which I totally understand. I said something stupid like “You have deserved that.” (What?!! When I look at this at mathematical language I am saying that 4 years of misery and losing your husband, father of 2 young children ‘wins’/’deserves’ you 3 days of booze and junkfood. NO I did not want to say that! I just wanted to say that I would not stand by to make an issue of it. That I can understand that she needs to put ‘things behind her’ and that I understand that it is culturally accepted to do so with a period of ‘destructive behaviour’ which – I do not have a clue if this is ‘bad’ or not. Or if I should find that ‘bad’. Or if I should ‘question’ my own sobriety over this opinion. I, I was just very sad that I have in my life, let myself go so badly that I, in this time of trouble, can not join my mourning friend into the land of destruction. To me, not being able to drink with her is a price I pay. And I know that does not really sound like sober language. I guess I have a big misunderstanding here. However, sometimes, like here, things are too big for non sober people to handle and forgetting about them through drinking ritually is a way people deal with this in this society.

Am I happy that I quit? Yes, absolutely. Do I want to drink? No way. Do I feel an urge to drink? No, it still repulses me. Do I feel like I miss out? Not when I really think about it. Do I feel pressured into drinking? No. Do I feel like my friend asks something of me? No. Do I feel like I screwed up and have made myself an invalid? Yes. It is like I cut of my own legs with drinking and getting addicted and now mourn that I can not climb a mountain with a friend in need. Even if that mountain is Mount Doom. I know she never asked, and never would, but I cannot follow where she goes. That hurts.

The morning of the funeral my mother woke me up. She said “You really need to get going now otherwise you will not be in time.” And she was right. I only managed to catch the bus just in time. I thought I had planned enough time but I had forgotten I could not hurry due to the concussion. I really needed the extra 15 minutes my mother gave me. It is funny. In all the 7-8 years she has been dead, I can not remember that she looked me up once. This day the veil between the death and the living was thin.

Actually, I do think she has looked me up. But I do not want her in my life. I am angry. She is dead. Go do your dead thing! Don’t come hovering over my shoulder, again.

I feel guilty when thinking, writing that. We had a fucked up relation. We repaired all of that 1,5 year before she died. But after that my mind, my idea of her, the ‘energy’ in my thinking of her changed back to how it had been before the repair. I blame my drinking for that. But possibly it is also logical because it had been bad for what, 36 years. Dunno. I guess one day I will know. I am scared of finding out because I feel I do her unjust but I am still so mad at her for not protecting me. For not loving me. For choosing my brother over me. For trying to repair that with saying “Now I would choose you.”

The concussion takes care of one thing: I sleep deep sleep again. Did I write this already? I dreamed about how my parents where together. EEEEEEKS!!! What a humongous load of aggression and destruction. My God. Evil. It is funny how, when one (i!) get out of a situation for a long time, the information we (i!) get when getting back in there is tremendous. Tremendously overwhelming in this case. Shit.

I also dreamed about my brother. Stuff I had forgotten. How he fancied me when I was a (pre-)teen. How that teenage sexual curiosity was the reason he did not protect me from the friends who (tried to) rape(d) me. Now that piece of information was eh…. informative. 😦 I had forgotten about it, it showed up in the dream for a few seconds, how he did not know how to handle himself around me and how I disliked that and found it threatening but did not dare to pay attention to is because ‘when they see you are afraid they will get you.’ From these two dreams I did also learn that these feelings that are ‘in the air’, ‘between people’ are REAL. Well, I sort of knew they were, but I always thought I was the only one, well, and the bookstore man. And my friend A. Ooh, and my therapist. I thought others did not know about them. I now know my mother did, my father sort of did, my brother does. People do, ‘they’ ‘just’ ‘do not’ ‘realise’ it. Which is a funny sentence, trying to indicate that every word of that sentence, dunno, can be read differently too. Can’t get my head around it. There is this little gnome in my head, he has a box filled with clamps, nails, hammers and fog and he is using all the tools on my brain.

And from life issues to silly stuff… well, addiction related in my life. Some of you who have followed me for some time now might have read about the bookstore man. I was in love with him, he with me, sometimes, a little but mostly not. Then I practised not being clingy but that did not work out totally. Also he felt stupid around me because I had quit and he had not quit (his 7 or more splifs a day) and I guess I was not tactful there so well, that did not work – not in a love version, not in a friendship version. We were however still Facebook friends but after our last falling out I had excluded him through some specific setting but not unfriended him. I thought I should learn to do that the adult way. And exactly at the moment that I had totally forgotten about him, my settings somehow change and he is able to see all my new posts. I had a concussion so I was not very sharp but I did however, with no conscious thought what so ever, post a question on Facebook which is EXACTLY, EXACTLY, EXACTLY THE MOST HURTFUL THING I can imagine I can throw in his face; in itself it was a general sentence, a life question actually, about projection, but he and I have spoken in length how in his life his parents and others have used this question to diminish his feelings and undermine him. I hate that way of misusing knowledge. That is where ‘spiritual’ people use their ‘spiritual’ knowledge to be even bigger asses than the where when they were not educated. I hate it. And somehow I ended up doing that while not even knowing he could read it… So he unfriended me. Which I think is a very reasonable reaction to what I ‘did’.

What did I learn? I learned that even though we I thought we were not connected I guess we still were somehow. If anybody else would tell me this story I would think ‘Gosh, what a way to get back at somebody and feel that you yourself are in the clear. Bravo! NOT!’ I did not do this on purpose. But I am afraid that does not count between us. However, I can not be aware of what I am not aware of. I will just have to bear that I hurt a (non) friend badly with stupid actions. My SIL says; you must realise that posting on FB equals shouting stuff out load on a playground – worst, it is online and written.’ Well, I did this. And there is little way of saying sorry because I have no clue of where or when he is.

And exactly when I had cut loose totally he like a stupid comment of mine on the page of a mutual friend. FUCK OFF!! I miss you.

I am happy that I quit. Hell yes. Aaw, more like heaven yes. πŸ™‚

I want: my concussion to be gone, my life to be simple, everybody to love me. Hmm, that would be weird… I can not even imagine that. Funny, I wonder if that is reality or limiting my beliefs. πŸ˜€

I need: to get to bed and sleep. Eat something and sleep for 12 hours.

WWAWWLHD? Again, I am not wearing socks which means: I am too stupid to deserve care. It is 17:00 hours here and I have not even showered yet. I did eat. I did juice but I did not get any further than that. Well, I wrote this post. That gives some air and clears up some stuff. :-). Need to get away from the computer. And aaah, shit, this spell check button sort of forces me to spell check. ;-).

Hope you have a nice day. πŸ™‚

xx, Feeling


And so life continues, but not for all

Life has been tough. :-/ And I asked for help and help came. That was the learning experience.

I just want to tell you that I am very sad. A friend of mine, the husband of one of my best friends (Hi dear) has died. He leaves behind a wife and two young children one of which has just this year left kindergarten.Β  He was diagnosed with lung cancer 4 years ago and passed away last Saturday. We met at work, 16 years ago and he was this brilliant, bright, intelligent IT man from Romania with a strong, almost anarchist heart beating fiercely in him. He had THE most fantastic imagination of the future and technical possibilities and the three of us would sit up late, drinking and building business plans with beautiful IT solutions to save the world, have a lot of fun or just make shitloads of money and the room would sparkle and light up with the energy of All That Is Possible. And/but, I always felt he was burning his candle at both ends, and well, I guess that is what happened. To me, that is what happened. He died. I am imagining him, now, in another realm being all amazed by what he experiences and going all quantum mechanics on it. πŸ™‚


I can not cry because my head feels like it will explode. This concussion is, well, not nice. Stress set off by sadness, loss and worries for my friend spikes my blood pressure and loss of sleep does not bring it down.

It caused panic attacks, which all re-focussed, why am I not surprised, at my financial situation so I FINALLY called my SIL and she came over. Drove from one side of the country to the other (which, ok, in the Netherlands is 200 kilometers, some 170 miles I think) to help me out. ❀ We opened all the mail. And it all worked out to be ok-ish (the part which is not ok we still need to work out, but I think I leave that to next week). I paid the outstanding months of rent. And I still have some money left = good. And the raise in rent is NOT bigger than my salary raise = good too. And now I can buy a new pair of jeans and maybe a new t-shirt and a singlet and not have to walk around in the same set of clothes with holes in it anymore. πŸ™‚ And maybe I can buy new sandals too because mine fall apart. It gives rest. And somehow, not sure how I got to that link but somehow it gives me the idea that I am not a failure. Even though I can’t even do my own finances. I concluded that if I can’t, I can at least be a tiny bit happy about what I can and that is: ask for help. And I am very grateful for my SIL in showing up, keeping her cool and dealing with stuff and my panic all in one. πŸ™‚

Ghegheghe, she also handed me a sample of an item she wants me to make for her. So I guess I know what to do πŸ™‚ πŸ™‚ πŸ™‚ Gheghegheghe… Family…… πŸ™‚ I used to make stuff, it used to make me happy. My SIL thinks I need to make stuff again to make me happy. So now I have an assignment, with a not-mentioned-but-overly-obvious-due-date-of-a-50th-birthday coming up. Gheghegheghe, this feels like such a Dutch deal and/but it makes me really happy. ❀

I am happy I asked for help. She knows about my drinking history. Slowly, slowly over the last months I tell her in bits about how bad it got. I also told her yesterday that this financial thing is an addict thing; that the denial which I practised with drinking has also spread to the finances and that I still can not manage that. And I noticed yesterday that I unconsciously lied (yes, lied) to her about stuff. Then, when we found out that there was some money left, and the pressure of the evening fell away I started to realise that I had not represented the truth earlier. It was very strange to realise that I had been telling lies about how things had come about, lies I myself had not caught because I did not want to see them. And here I go again, I want to lie again. (Edit, I wanted to say that my SIL and I had made an appointment, but we had not yet. So I wrote to her and only then continued to write here what I thought I needed to lie about. This is so strange. I never knew things (i!) had turned so rotten.) So, I just mailed my SIL that I would appreciate it if she would keep an eye out for shady behaviour of mine when it comes to finances because I want to lie about it to not feel bad. And that I would appreciate it if she could check with me if she finds that I act, well, shady.

(Edit: not sure how these paragraphs connect but they happened to follow eachother.) The other day I filled in this questionnaire which A hangover free life referred to a couple of posts ago. In that questionaire I came to the conclusion that I actually think that I, myself, am my Higher Power: “If everything falls apart, if everything fails, if everyone abandons me, I still have myself.”

It is strange that this intense loneliness and disconnecting which I feel when I say that to myself actually allow me to choose for me and do what a woman who loves herself would do. I somehow feel that in contact with people I tend to get damaged. Obviously not all people, but I’m thinking this is part of my founding. The ability to disconnect is big in me. It gives strength and I find it scary too. It feels unnatural. The power in it feels unnatural and destructive but it has helped me with alcohol tremendously. But it is the same I did with my father: from one day to another I wrote him a 10 sentence mail and I have not looked back ever again. It is connected to my ability to close doors. It also feels connected to my wanderer gene I have. Together they combine in a streak that often makes me want to burn all the bridges. Need to continue reading in the Puer Aeternus book, it seems to be a streak of the psychological thingy, can’t find the word, of the eternal youth. Addiction, the disease of isolation.

My SIL told me she was very proud of me and that she thought I had come a very long way in the last 21 months. πŸ™‚ It is good to actually hear that in person. Did I not say at 12 months that I would go look for other sober people to connect with? I did not, well, partially with one guy who is in AA too. But then he wanted to ‘go for a cup of coffee’ and I freaked out. I think I should. If only to learn to realise that I did something well. Like quitting drinking. :-/ The other day I checked the list of sober blogs I follow. I believe I can chuck out 1 out of 8 at least because the ‘content has been deleted by the owner of the blog’. :-/ Alcohol, it is a nasty substance. Addiction is powerful, baffling and cunning. I want to live.

I want to learn to understand why I still feel like I do not choose to live. I think this whole concussion is helping me understand things about life. My online addiction for instance. I do not live when I have free time; I sit behind this screen. I want to live again. Do stuff, learn stuff. πŸ™‚

Well, time to go to bed. That is what a woman who loves herself would do at least. πŸ™‚

I am happy that I quit. Oooh, I would be such a mess if I were drinking now. (insert swear word) . I hope you are happy that you quit too. πŸ™‚

xx, Feeling

Short post :-)


I’m still around, month 22 (edit: month 21!!! stupid concussion), if I had not noted that already. But still having a concussion so online time is limited. But still VERY HAPPY THAT I QUIT. Currently, if I have clear time and am not tired I read Craig Nakken’s book ‘The addictive personality’ again. Wow! Again, it blows my mind. I have come a long way with 21 months, but the actual unaddicting will take some serious work.

I wanted to drop some info for those who might appreciate it. There is a new online summit and this one is on ANXIETY. For those who are not familair with online summits: you sign up using your e-mail address and a first name. Mostly you get an introduction e-mail and in that you have to click to confirm. On the said dates there will be video’s online of interviews with experts. These work according to, well, let us call it the Cinderella principle: so only visible for free for 24 full hours. At the end of the average summit all the vids will be visible during a weekend. If you want to have the vids you can buy them.

I am happy that I quit. Because I do not think I would be alive anymore if I had not. That has become very clear during the first days of my concussion. The blow emotionally threw me back in time about 2 years and I felt very much like I did not like life and me anymore :-(. Things are still unstable but not so dark. Stupid concussion messes with the mind. πŸ˜€

Because of the concussion I had to do CONTINOUS RIGOROUS SELFCARE. Pfffff, sigh…. that was/is difficult. So the WWAWWLHD came in very handy. I love this tool. Happy I found it. Tells me: she would not worry about cleaning now because she needs to be in bed / She would drop the chocolate because it might mess with her sleeping pattern and she needs her sleep / She would get out of bed to drink some water because the brain needs to float, not dry out.

What I am not doing is my admin. I have some letters from the tax office laying about and an invoice saying ‘open now or else’. 😦 And I still CAN NOT ask for help. It is not helping that my SIL, whom I did this with before is on a path where she condemns everything I do or say and then continuous with ‘Well I really don’t think there is anybody as sensitive as you are!’ You know what? I was doubting myself but now I write this down I realise that nobody ever meant something nice with saying: ‘Well I really don’t think there is anybody as sensitive as you are!’ Life is difficult sometimes. I don’t know what I did to irritate her but I keep on hearing my brother through what she says. As if he is telling her what to say. Why do I even write this down? Ooh yeah, I was wondering if I make thing complicated between me and my SIL so I do not have to ask for help. Also, I feel disappointed that she does not offer, since she said she would help me. But is not offering the same as helping? Maybe, in my case, NOT offering helps me more. :-D. I’m sick of it all, there are things I can do, but not with a concussion too. And trying to work with a concussion. 😦

Yes, yes, moaning and sulking. I’m off to bed. πŸ™‚

I am happy that I quit, hope you are too :-). Being happy that you quit makes things so much easier! πŸ™‚

xx, Feeling