About feelingmywaybackintolife

Hi, I stopped drinking on the 25 of August 2014 and I hope to never drink again. Nobody in my private life knows that my drinking is was bad and nobody knows I quit. I tried a programme but finally quit by myself with help of the book of Jason Vale. Somehow I have not worked out if and how I want help but I found some sobriety blogs on wordpress and thought that would al least help me to move away from the secrecy that strangles me and give me a daily task and opportunity to work on getting clear drink wise, life wise, intention wise. I write down my process, what I experience, think, feel and do. Please note that I do not subscribe to everything that I put out there; sometimes I will show you the addict, or the addict will show without me knowing it. Sometimes, well I hope most of the time, the true self will be there. I guess there will are mixes as well, I am still trying to work it out. All in all it turned out to be a blog that I feel is rather dark and heavy handed in comparison to my fellow bloggers. That seems to be the flavour of the dish, so I guess that's what I'm having.

#Metoo

The #metoo ‘movement’ is upsetting me so I turned away from news and Facebook. I have difficulty with the negative reactions from ‘everybody’ to women sharing their painful stories. There is a (not so) funny thing to sexual abuse; in my life every man seems to take this heroic stance against it saying things like “If that happened to my girlfriend/daughter I would kill him/cut his balls off and feed them back to him blabalbabla.” But in reality these are the same guys who say things like:

“Now we’ve gotten this far I’m not gonna stop.”
“You want this as bad as I do, I just know it.”
“He meant that as a compliment, not an insult, you can’t go around being offended all the time somebody you don’t know squeezes your ass?! I mean, what would life look like?!”
“If you don’t want the attention you should not have looked at him in the first place.”
“See how she walks, she is asking for it.”
“So why did you go kissing with him anyway?”
“Well, you knew him, it is not like you did not know him and he grabbed you from the streets.”

In one case it was actually a person who stood by laughing when one of his friends pushed his fingers in my vagina. I was 12, it was not wanted, it hurt. I was scared, trembling, fighting in the water. The lifeguard whom I told later spit out: “Go away you, with your, dirty words”.

In my life that is more reality than the killing and cutting off balls. When later in life I told boyfriends, they worry about themselves, about them having picked ‘damaged goods’. The did not worry about me. They just wanted to know, if not know, when I would be ready for sex. To that I got responses about the wrong choice of men. There should be a third hashtag, one that says:

#Ihaveblamedvictimstobeabletodealwithmyowndiscomfortabouttheirpain.

This Friday I had a meeting with a guy from another factory which happens to bake cakes. Opposite the street a blond woman with a short skirt, red high heels tried to open a front door of a office building. She was carrying a box which looked like a cake box and then suddenly tilted it over. We both gasped and then started laughing; ‘Guess there was no cake in that box after all.” He continued: “She works there with 5 guys, only women in the building and she dresses like that.”

“What does that mean to you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you comment on her dressing like she does, but what conclusions do you, as a man draw from what you see?”

I was just really curious, specifically because I could not ‘find’ the woman ‘feelingwise’ – it was like she had dressed up a doll and she was the doll. I felt a big, big disconnect between possible dressing ‘signals’ and behaviour of the woman. So I was wondering how he perceived it – as a man. Come to think of it: wearing 12cm high heels to the office is strange even in the Netherlands but it was Friday so maybe she had an after work party.

“Well, I am wondering if she is looking for something.”
“Something like a relationship or approval for her looks?”
“Yeah, I mean, she is drawing attention to herself. Well, obviously she could be wearing that just because she likes it and it makes her feel good…” (This man has been trained well with politically correct answers, ghegheghe….)
“What bothers me in this whole ‘look what she is wearing’ discussion in this world is the following: For men to be sexy to women they just have to be strong and impressive and make themself seen with decisive, manly behaviour. Whenever you see a man behaving strong and impressive, there is NO-ONE, LITERALLY NO ONE judging him for being too sexual. Have you, in your life, ever told toughest guy of the group to tone down because he is ‘asking for it?’
“Gheghe, no…..” (laughing at the idea)
“The biological AND cultural idea behind women is that they are supposed to be beautiful. That is engrained in our culture. It is what women, girls, babies, well, no matter what gender, everybody grows up with. And the second one women does whatever she grew up with, for whatever reason there is this judgement about her sexuality. First:it is not for anybody to judge. Just. Not. And specifically not if we are not prepared to hold men to the same standards. What is it in this world that we judge a women by their sexuality first and foremost. As in; always and everywhere. And then that it is normal and ok?!
“Eh, yeah, eh, true… hmmm….” (looking surprised at the novelty of the idea)
Secondly: it is often not HER sexuality you are judging, it is your, my, our response to her sexuality which gets voiced. Like religious man who need a woman to cover herself up totally, because otherwise she is a “whore and leading men on, needs to be raped to show her her place.” (not my opinion btw). That is not about the woman, that is about the man who can not take responsibility for his own sexuality.”
“Yeah.”
“But you and I judging her dress like that actually is the same projection of our thoughts on her. Not saying there is no truth in it what we think, there could be, don’t know. But I do not think it is up to anybody to judge women like this, to hold them to different standards than we do men and thirdly: it says nothing about her, but all about what WE THINK OF her.
“I never thought about it like that.”
“Nope. It took me a while to figure this out. But I think it is important to realise.”
“Yeah.” (surprised but content)

#didmyfeministthingtoday

I am happy that I quit, be it in a obliged, sort of struggling way. I have been visiting my GP every week for ‘check back’ and I think I am out of the suicide danger zone again. So I guess that is good. When down I don’t want help anymore. So I don’t really tell people. I don’t care anymore. Just don’t want to be trouble. Again.

Now I am here where I am I can not imagine that I can turn so dark. It seems to be a different world. Not that I am basking in light right now but, well, I am sort of, hesitatingly willing to give life another try. Which, I am very well aware, is a luxury position towards Life and can and possibly will offend anybody out there who is facing illness or accident or any other unwanted life threatening situation. ๐Ÿ˜ฆ

Life wants to live, so when the environmental issues change the seeds will grow again. What I did this time around is to realise that and remember what my mom said: Next to having cancer and being sad about that, I can be happy. The one does not rule the other one out.

Guessing the homeopathic stuff has done its work too. First time I took it I was in heaven for a brief moment and then went up and down like an emotional roller coaster. Second time the good moments started to reappear. Third time I realised that I had not thought of killing myself the whole day. Guess that is progress and now I could even have the above conversation with this guy and not have any alterations in my blood pressure.

I still do not have any energy to actually take care of myself and that is difficult when trying to face this darkness. Work is effing tough. Not sure if I can hold on to this job when the contract ends. I am doing everything to get stuff done, which includes organising myself more and better and changing perceptions etc. But in the end it keeps on coming down to one point: if 20-30 people without management are not going to follow the rules my boss and I have set I am out of a job. I have very little influence on the crowd because I am not in the chain of command and I am not allowed to be there. Sometimes I am, but then bossman takes it back. So recipe for disaster and destruction of energy. Boundaries are good but haha, not my greatest asset. ๐Ÿ˜€

What would a woman who loves herself do? She would put on socks because her feet are freezing, painful and blue.

Why is it soooo difficult to take care of me? ‘Because you are worth it’ springs to mind. I do not think I am worth it. Not sure how that thought got there. Guess somewhere I drew the conclusion that I am not worth it. I can’t give what I don’t have. Same goes for parents. I guess my insisting on care from my mom confronted her with her own limited energy and lack of self-care. #Shetoo.

I salute my possibility to end a post which at least somewhere had a positive ring to it on a low note.:-D Sigh.

Ok, one more thing, I just searched the internet for ‘why is self-care so difficult’ Found a nice one which runs along with the work stress:

Tim Kreider puts his finger on the problem, writing in a 2012 New York Times blog that โ€œBusyness serves as a kind of existential reassurance, a hedge against emptiness; obviously your life cannot possibly be silly or trivial or meaningless if you are so busy…โ€

Another blog stays things about shame. I guess I am actually healing because I just looked that up! Yay!!! ๐Ÿ™‚ ๐Ÿ™‚ ๐Ÿ™‚ ๐Ÿ™‚ ๐Ÿ™‚

I have turned on the heater, it was 15 degrees in the house so no wonder I was cold.

Thank you for reading, thank you for sticking with me during these times.

I am happy that I quit! That what comes after is not easy, I guess it is the darkness I preferred to drink away. When I read back I notice that I still shift emotions like I’m in an emotional roller coaster. Looking at it from the outside it is really strange. I don’t want to do the work I have to do to get myself sorted out. I feel I have already done so much and it is not fair and…. very often not rewarding because things just hurt a lot. As in ‘just hurt’ the whole day. Like I am missing the outer layer of skin all over and specifically on my heart.

Wishing you a nice Sunday/evening/day/new week.

xx, Feeling

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Teal Swan on feeling not ‘normal’

Must watch vid on disconnection and, as Teal Swan says it ‘parallel realities’. I am guessing all of you will recognise this and possibly, as I did, have a good cry over understanding how denial of emotions makes people feel different and not normal.

 

Times are difficult for me currently. Well, guessing I have not brought another tone to this blog for a long time. Work is getting harder and harder. My job is the only one with measurable results but for the results to happen I depend on a whole bunch of others who…. do not exactly care, always. At least not when they do not feel like it. And there is nobody to make them feel like it so…ย  hmmm. Outside consultants have come in again.

When watching the above vid I realise that my boss and I speak from different points of view. Well, whatever. Life is difficult. Living is difficult. Nights are difficult with a lot of dreaming and memories from early life. Dreaming again that my brother is dying. Remembering the nightmares I used to have as a child about that. Remembering how my mother and brother had this bond where I was not welcome. How I rebelled against that. How my dear brother snugly dug himself into my mother’s lap even more in times like that.

My GP mentioned how every time she meets me she is gets this tremendous feeling of ‘loneliness’ with me. And I guess that is true. When I am in the mood I have been for the last months I feel alone, no matter what and how. And I do not want to connect because that only means that I will hurt more because ‘people do not understand me’. I guess that is the dramatised version of reality but it is one in which I live a lot of the time. I guess that is why blogging is a good way of expressing myself: I do not have to look people in the eye and see that they are repulsed, not understanding or pitying me.

I live in extremes. In the world where I live it looks like I invented extremes. Which I put out here as a sort of joke, or to mellow down the statement of living in extremes, trying to show that I can put things in perspective – but actually, haha, I guess you noticed that is not a strength of mine. And maybe because I do not share intimacy in real life, I never get to get out of that extreme state.

I invite you into my mad world and nobody follows. But then again, being in dire need of connection is something like needing a lone: only if you already have money the bank will loan money. Hmmm, dark.

Another dark thing: I dreamt that somebody spotted a dark presence around me and in that dream I could (suddenly?) separate the darkness I carry around in times from myself. I find it funny to think of it as two different ‘people’ or ‘realities’. Strange though that it felt very fitting. I find it a little, may I say ‘carnavalesque’ to attribute feelings to other entities like ‘angels’ or ‘bad ghosts’ but at that moment somebody mentioned that my brother (twin supposedly died in womb) was still with me and that he was luring me into the darkness as to be together again because he envies me because I live. My mind finds it utter nonsense, even so much that I have difficulty writing this down. But feelingwise it fitted totally. And then again: maybe that is ‘just’ dream logic, trying to fit things together to make keep it understandable for the mind. Well, it would explain the bouts of darkness flushing me in my life where I did not know where they came from. And the lightness I experience ever so suddenly.

In the sober world it is good practise to divide ourselves into the good person and the addict within. The addict within gets a name and that is how it is handy (at first) to separate what part we need to listen to and what part we need to ignore or even fight. I found this separation of ‘myself’ and the ‘addict within’ very helpful when quitting drinking. Over time my view changed and I realised that the addict within is me/is me too/is part of me/ is my way of dealing with life. A not so very handy way of dealing, but me. Not something ‘external’. Very good, very, very helpfull to attribute traits to this addict and villanies him/her though; makes it so much easier to recognise stuff and keep away from.

Well, what I wanted to log is that lately I switch from being perfectly happy and content to darkness as I have not known it earlier in my adult life. These switches happen in seconds. Very, can’t find the word, strange and… still can’t find the word, well, it concerns me. But I mainly notice the switch to light, not to the darkness because that is ‘normal’. Also there is a third phase in which I just watch me being all clustered up in my own emotions. This part that I call the real me: the part which is aware that I am thinking, which is aware that I am feeling stuff. This part is not part of the feelings but watching it.

I go to that place more often, well, ha, mostly because it is too tiring to be me currently. When I am there I can only wonder at the drama I carry, create, uphold. The gain of the drama is to keep me from feeling what I really feel. And there is a part which wants to keep me from being conscious. Being conscious comes with a price and the prices to me sometimes looks like utter madness as in ‘the reality of this world is so different from what we think that it is hard for the mind to grasp’. I have little experience and little words in that reality where I experience life and all with what I call my consciousness but it sort of looks like the idea of reality, matter, the body image and time e.g. are concepts to enable the mind and body to do their mind and body thing in time. Not sure if that makes any connection to anybody anywhere. So yeah. ๐Ÿ˜€ The madness comes in when I, my daily ‘I’ get afraid of the experience and try to hold on to the normal world idea. Which teaches me that hahaha, attachment causes pain. :-/ Gosh.

Well, more platitudes where that came from: in that reality everything is connected. But not sure if I understand it correctly because people I hear speaking about that are mainly all caught up in the romance of that while for me it is only a ‘fact’ (?) with no love or hate feeling to it. But then again: connection has always been a challenge for me.

When I am ‘there’ it is like all the shields I have, all the attachments, all drama’s fall from me like the leaves from a lotus unfolding and they keep unfolding and unfolding eternally. That experience/feeling is actually to me very accurate – as if it is literally happening around me. And after a while, actually a few seconds already, it turns very scary. Well, it starts of as this beautiful experience and then attachment walks in and eeeeeeehks! ๐Ÿ˜€ Ghegheghe… lesigh. Also, it takes me to the edge/over the edge of the feeling of ‘existing’ of well, ‘normal’. It is an exciting place to wander but I am guessing that, with the wrong mindset, intention, lack of foundation in this world, it might be a dangerous place for the mind. I am guessing my path leads me to explore the boundaries of that alternate reality I am experiencing there but I am guessing it is a good thing to let the mind get used to it. It is like that time where I tried to stay conscious while falling asleep; it is like walking into (what I think) a LSD trip (looks like). I wish the bookstore man was still in my life, he could probably explain what this is all about.

Well. More than 3 years ago I started this blog trying to feel my way back into life, knowing that would bring me to the next phase. The next phase has been waiting for over a year right now but I guess I still need to do the next level of un-addicting through rock-bottom. I went to see the GP because I did not trust myself with me anymore. The other day I posted a blog and then deleted it because I just could not bear for those words to be out in the world. To have people look into the darkness and pain going on. There is a funny thing to not wanting to lie and wanting to speak the truth: when life changes, motivations change. I found that revealing and I guess it is how relapse happens: it is not that one wants to drink, or possibly so, but it is the caring about the results which ‘just go out of the window’.

Not sure if I need to clarify that I did not drink and was not tempted to. I was however tempted to let go of caring. Never a good place. I did not care anymore. But then I have a cat. ๐Ÿ™‚ I felt like this:

houseruin

Have often felt like that in my life. Which in itself is not so bad as long as I do not have to pretend to be a cosy, happy house in a suburb. While feeling that my parents expected me to become a manor. Which is what I did all my life and the discrepancy is killing. Parallel realities.

Aah, another thing about work: work needs me to be precise and result driven and that makes that I need to go into the here and now and act in that. Nasty and difficult for me. Drives me nuts. Good practise in a sad way. Don’t want to be in the here and now. Drama. Need to investigate what happens there.

I experience a lot of breathing problems lately. I guess I experience panick attacks but I feel scared, well, dead scared but also often I have these aggressive arguments in my head and then my throat cramps and I can not breathe out anymore. Google says asthma. Nah…

Another log thing: I sleep deeper, sleep through the night at least 1 time a week!!! And only wake up once at least another time!!!! But still have nights where I wake up 5 times. My more than a year old concussion is still bothering me though. I keep on having headaches in that place and I still have the sensation of something being wrong there in my brain. The size, a little bigger than a pigeon egg which is damaged / dead / missing.

I am planning to keep on visiting the GP till I am out of the danger zone I am in now and possibly till I found an entrance into losing some weight. That would equal: making the next step in my addiction and quitting chocolate/sugar. Don’t want to talk about that. It is bad. I put on weight. Take bad care of me.

A woman who loves herself would post this blog and not fear if people think she is crazy. ๐Ÿ™‚ So much of my thoughts go unchallenged because I think that in my non-digital life I do not know anybody who thinks/experiences things like I do in this post. And I have difficulty filtering The Truth from the caravalesque brain snot imagery. I guess not attaching myself to the outcome of this experiment called life will lead somewhere someday. Not sure. We shall see. ๐Ÿ™‚ / ๐Ÿ˜ฆ

I am sort of happy that I quit, more in an obliged way than really feeling it. I think I am a big mess and because of that I feel like ‘nothing has changed’. I have difficulty seeing light in the darkness but have noticed that I, well, not consciously but sub/non/whatever consciously, as a ‘safeguard’ hold on to misery because I can not deal with the ups and downs and the other people not understanding me and that hurting. So I have actually noticed me making me feel depressed so I do not have to come out of hiding and try living. My not so humble opinion on depression is that it is: separating myself from the world, taking bad care of my by eating badly, doing nothing fun, not caring, not getting exercise or fresh air, surrounding myself with dead buildings instead of nature, sleeping at the wrong hours, cherishing dark thoughts and then saying that it is difficult to find the light. Duh?! But the getting up from there is difficult. And well, today I think I can do it, at some point in my life, but last week and that week before I was very far away. Further than I was when drinking so that scared me. We shall see if I can find the strength to end this addiction to misery. My base attitude is still one which says: I don’t want to live in this world. I guess it has a lot to do with being confronted with death even before I was born. Or maybe it is another addictive way ‘out’; “as long as I don’t care I can not be hurt.” kind of thinking. Not sure. It is all coming more to the forefront the last months. ๐Ÿ˜ฆ Not happy about that. All these growth thingies they come with rock-bottoms where I need to realise that the negative consequences of hanging on to (destructive) behaviour and thinking is outweighing the ‘positive’ ones I (think to) get from being addicted to sadness/chocolate/depression/.

My head is hurting by now. I’m off to bed. Hope you found something in this post. Self-care, gratitude, progress not perfection thinking are all tools which could have possibly kept me out of this darke hole I find myself in. Just to make sure it is known: I knew that upfront. And I do not want to face that maybe, probably I am here now because I want to shy away from the work problems, weight problems and eating problems I experience. When I say ‘I knew that upfront.’ it means that I felt/saw things coming and I knew I had to change things but I could not. And I did not know it as clearly as I fear it is (partially) true now. Not proud of myself. But I guess, if I want to be truthful to myself I need to log this too. “To thy own self be true.”

The other part of the truth is that I have, in itself, a structure which is partially corrupted/not-functioning/not fitting in this world which makes it more difficult to find level ground. But then again: the only way out of that is to deal with it. :-/ Fuck.

Tired. No good can come of late night moping. ๐Ÿ™‚

Wishing you a good day/week.

xx, Feeling

 

Currently watching “Adyashanti: Healing the Core Wound of Unworthiness” in the Self-acceptance summit from Sounds True (hurry, only a few days left! – There will be an Encore day probably). Adyashanti says something which is an eye-opener to me: people who experience not-enoughness think they are the only one.
I think that. I think that I have this special not-enoughness which is even not-enougher than other people’s not-enoughness. And obviously I see the result of that in every detail of my life. I am fat, grey, ugly and old so I am not good enough, people treat me bad, so I am not good enough, I am not in an intimate relation so I am not good enough. I do not even dare to write that because that in itself proves that I am not good enough. And I really really want to add that blablabla-everybody-I-know-has-bad-relations-and-that-I-do-not-understand-them-putting-up-with-that-shit-blablablabla in order to make me feel better. So I am trying to balance my not-enoughness by upping the not-enoughness of others. ๐Ÿ˜ฆ
I write dark, searching, often angry and moaning posts. I do so because I want to not write Facebook-like posts. I want to show the unedited version of me. There are a lot of reasons for that, one is that I need to be 100% honest(like?) with me because addiction is a disease of non-truth. There is another aspect to it which pops up now: I am angry at the world for showing only the good sides of things. I find that unfair. And… I have grown up in a family where feeling bad was not allowed in a sort of ‘Aaaw, but that is not necessary dear’ kind of denial. That, even though I believe my mother in a lot of years did not feel well for even one minute. She actually said so much. She was nauseous all the time for years on end. There was no specific physical reason, looking back I think it was continuous stress and mostly fear of my father. Later she admitted that suicide was on her mind on a daily basis for years. Children know that. I knew it. I tried to save her. Did not work. Or maybe it did. Not sure. When we spoke about it she mentioned that she knew I knew but that she did not want to have it real because that would be too horrible to bear. She felt shame, guilt and insufficient as a parent. Not enough. She drank in order to ‘deal’. Not like crazy much, but still enough to turn aggressive or sad. And her body could not deal with it well so I can not imagine she felt well. :-/ At some point she quit, I believe when she was diagnosed for the 3rd time with cancer.
The memory of those years puts fear in my body. Lately I learn every day about why I thought drinking was a good ‘solution’ to what was going on in my life. All this unmentionable stress and anxiety in our family, floating freely, well more like solid grey masses to work my way through. And everybodies’ escape patterns. My mother turning ill ‘so’ she could not be accountable, my brother not participating in the family and turning emotionally cold, withholding himself. Me resisting everything and trying to fix my parents one day and then fighting them the other day when I could not manage, what (?) anymore.
Currently trying to look at these feelings as ‘feelings’, as ‘ships that pass on the horizon’. Doesn’t work (yet?). They go straight to cell level and create stress and this continuous state of ‘threat’ there. My brother always says I am too sensitive (gosh…) but he creates the same-ish environment in his own home with his stressed out reaction to anything big or small. He has been overworked for years and only now he’s at home 100% with a burn-out. ๐Ÿ˜ฆ Which in itself is good for him, I hope he can work things out.
I am happy that I quit. But I say that more because I need to try the feeling of that statement. Ha! The other way around: sooooo glad I do not have an alcoholic drink standing here, eeeew, the nausea! Yuck! Ok. I AM HAPPY THAT I QUIT!!!! Yay! ๐Ÿ™‚
A woman who loves herself would have gone to bed way earlier because she wants to treat herself to a lot of sleep. With hopefully no nasty dreams. Lot of revealing dreams, ones which sort of let loose the dirt / trash / nasty memories locked up. Like my subconscious is taking out the trash. ๐Ÿ™‚ Sounds funny, is not. :-D. In the morning I sometimes remember only remember tiny bits, seconds, minutes. Sometimes I remember a dream which I have perceives as 5 minutes. The feelings they leave behind are well, like having slept in the subconscious sewer. Parts memories, parts the whole shebang of feelings surrounding those memories. If I can say one positive thing it is: very informative.
For my records: I believe I dream more because I drink less tea at night so I tend to sleep through the night more. Or possibly because I took some Schuessler salt at some time, dunno which anymore, which ‘fixed’ something.
Ok, the cat is calling me for bed. ๐Ÿ™‚ โค
Wishing you a good evening/day!
xx, Feeling

Misery – what’s in it for me?

Sorry for the rhyme. Wondering here why I hang on to misery. Thought writing about it might give me some insight. So yeah; heads-up; this can either be a brilliant post on finding a way out or another boring post on how I am stuck. Or something in between. Dunno. But then again, one never does before one tries. ๐Ÿ™‚

In between: following the Self Acceptance Summit by Sounds True. It’s free, online, good quality, I really appreciate Tami Simon’s style of interviewing, the questions she asks are always the things I would like to know. So I am thoroughly ‘enjoying’ myself being explained why I have difficulty with self-acceptance. Trying to find a way to self acceptance because I know my criticism does harm to the world and I don’t want that. Yet again and again it happens. I believe it is based in me not accepting myself but I can imagine that people who are at the receiving end of it do not really care for that explanation. :-/

Went to see my GP yesterday. She is also a homeopathic doctor so when I opted the choice of homeopathic medicine I found in my intuitive Google search she laughed and said: “Excellent choice! That particular medicine is for people who have no curtains in their house, who have no way to close themselves off or lock others out. They have an openness which can not be closed.” At which I replied that to me, in my vanishing twin idea of life; that is where my brother was supposed to be. I am only whole and closed off when he is there. And he is not.

So sadness, I actually wholesale in it, specifically lately. My spunk and mojo have left me and all I do is moan endlessly. I have been on repeat for several months now. It irritates me. Sometimes I appreciate it as ‘trying to research the field’ and not finding the answer. When I quit I built a file with questions I had and I just searched for answers. Books, internet, doctors, anybody could bring me answers and new ways of looking at stuff. Then I accepted that I did not have a clue what I was doing but felt into the subject of addiction and kept an open mind. No answers just meant that I had not found it yet. Why don’t I do that now? I don’t because I want things to be FIXED! NOW! I want that sort of for myself, I also fear that if I do not fix myself and my job I will not be perfect and lovely and be able to stay.

I always think I have to leave. Those are the two main starting points / assumptions in my life: “I will have to leave anyhow.” variations to that is “Nobody really likes me.” and “No matter how nice it looks it will be broken entirely / bring immense sadness soon as it always does.”

While watching the Self acceptance presentation of Tara Sophia Mohr on ‘Quieting Your Inner Critic and Navigating Feedback’ I wondered: what do I fear to lose when I would not be sad?

Do you ask yourself questions like that? I mostly trust the answers which come. The following pops up: I would have to step into life again and risk being hurt.

I think I have been hiding from life for a long time now. First because I was addicted and ashamed. Secondly because I was ashamed about having to give up my unfortunate business and well, I always have a reason to not dare to do things. By the way: my friends will laugh at this statement because without any exception they find me the most daring person in the world. But theoretically that could be because I select friends who are less daring. Possible. Possible.

I just took the homeopathic medicine. The doctor read the first 3 lines of the book she had on the subject: people whose main emotion is sadness, issues with alcohol and seem to lack an outer shell. Well, that would be me. She gave me a high dilution of it and I just took that.

It is always strange to take homeopathic medicine in high dilution. If, from the 2000 or 4000 (can’t remember) different compositions one chooses the correct one, it somehow feels as if cells shift in the body, energy starts taking other paths and the intelligence of the cell wakes up. Not sure if that makes any sense.

What pops up now is that there is something going on at work. The other day, about 1,5 week ago I told the boss’ wife to quit speaking and joking about my sex-life. She is a colleague, luckily not in the same office space but I meet her often enough. Too often. She says things like “You really need to get laid, it would be good for you and better for all of us here.” She has repeated that 3 together with several ‘tips’ on my sex life. She also made 18 demeaning comments about my appearance since the beginning of this year. 18? Yes. After the experiences with my last boss I started to count. ๐Ÿ˜ฆ Somehow it does not matter where I go, people seem to think they are entitled to invade.

Well, I was having a conversation with my favorite colleague, the one I spoke with when I had a bad case of anxiety at which I started shaking and my body tried to faint away. I confided with her on the insults of the boss’ wife and -speak about the devil-ย  in she walks and says without any introduction; “You really need to get laid!”

I reply in an icy voice: “You really need to call my former boss so you can both speak about my sex life.” (They know each other).
“WHAT?! Did you have sex with her too?!”
“No, I am informing you in a sarcastic way that I am not interested in your comments on my sex life. I would appreciate if you can just keep them to yourself.”
“Do you have a sex life?! Tell!”
“You seem to think this is a joke. I am not joking. Please keep your comments on my sex life to yourself. You are invading my privacy.”
“Ooh, you can invade my privacy anytime when it comes to sex!” (smiling)
“I can not because if I were to reply to you and really tell you what I think I would put up the sex life of my boss for discussion. I can not and do NOT WANT TO do that. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!”
“Oh, well, haha, pffff….” (laughing uncomfortably and leaving the room)

At which I tell my astonished colleague: “This is what I mean.”

And obviously the diminishing follows; “Aah, well, she is always like that.”

“Yes. AND I just told her to not invade my privacy. She did not really seem to care.”

So as always, the unbelieving, the enquiring if there is a possibility to blame the victim. Why can’t people just take these things seriously? The thing is, I can take the joke, most of the time. But not when I am having dreams of fighting off abuse at night about people forcing me to ‘get laid’ and then in day time people tell me to. And I can’t even explain this because that is an invasion of my privacy too.

I want this to stop.

The boss’ wife came to do some work a the floor where I have been the past week. She started saying something about sex and then “Ooh, I am not allowed to speak about that with you! Haha!” With a wink-wink, notch-notch to a male colleague present. I explained her again that I could not reply to comments like hers without interfering in my boss’ life which I do not want. She did not care, just got like teenage girls do.

Next time I’ll break her back. Well. Not really. But those who know what happened with the boss in my former workplace could possibly imagine the disgust, fear and anger I feel. ๐Ÿ˜ฆ

So, on “I will have to leave anyhow.” and “Nobody really likes me.” and “No matter how nice it looks it will break and bring enormous sadness soon as it always does.”

How can it be that in 2 jobs I meet the same queen bee bitches? She is the prettiest woman in the whole company. She has EVERYTHING going for her. She is famous within the industry, has a tremendous career, owns a beautiful company and there she is; trying to, what? tease? a fat, old, grey haired women with bad teeth who is trying to re-establish her life.

Hmmm, writing this all down does not really help in letting go of misery. Gheghe.

Fuck. Lately I get desperate in how to deal with work and life. This is one of the reasons. I don’t feel safe at work. I can’t speak to my boss anymore the way I used to because I don’t trust him anymore because he is married to her. My biggest strength was speaking up, now that is gone and I can feel myself withering away. My work is falling behind and I have no little strength to fix it because I doubt myself because I am in the same situation again as I was exactly a year ago. Also I do not want my boss to think that I use personal reasons to not perform.

So, about letting go of misery; how to? Lately my only answer has been to cut my wrists and be done with.

Funny how the book Seven weeks to sobriety mentions that people who do not quit fully (alcohol, drugs, smoking AND sugar) have the same suicide rate as those who do not quit alcohol. So OBVIOUSLY there is something in going all the way that beats not going all the way. Something in not eating sugar which beats eating sugar. Ah yes, my hobby; complaining about sugar as a dangerous drug while eating chocolate and dates. And then speaking about myself demeaning(ly?) while doing so. On could also argue that those who quit everything were more determined to live in the first place. No sรฉ. Or they are having more transformative experiences because they go all the way and not use replace addictions to keep themselves unfeeling, unaware, unconscious. What I do know is that my body does not process sugar well which is exactly why I eat it. Nope, no typo’s in that sentence. I could add the word ‘probably’ possibly. Not sure.

Sigh, back the letting go of misery. How to? I also think of less destructive things like burning all bridges and travel around the world. That in an addicts mind is less destructive. Could be the same as ‘doing a geographical’. Probably is since what I want is to not be me and I guess I will still be me. But who would take care of my cat. I am thinking it would not be nice to her to have to move house again. As long as I still have a cat I do not have to worry about me.

Back to letting go of misery: why can’t I just ‘let her talk’? Because sometimes I have no walls up and if I had not had years of training of hiding my vulnerability and a grandiose skill in lying I would fall apart every time she makes a demeaning comment.

I really just wrote that down: a grandiose skill in lying. Either that or grand skills in dissociating. Now there is some truth. I have always said I can not lie. But the truth is parts of me can lie very well. About how I feel about something, not letting see the hurt and the confusion because that sets me up for another attack. I experience the world as a very unsafe place and my system / brain / whatever does not want to accept that is has become safer. Then again, the work situation is not really safe. And neither was the one before. And neither was the money less – work less situation before that. Neither the drinking phase before that. Hmmm, maybe… I should learn to not be miserable. ๐Ÿ™‚

There have been moments where I could ‘unremember’ the hurts and for 2 seconds ‘not find them important’ – or not be ‘attached’ to them. How does learning unattachment differentiate from dissociating? Looking up more on dissociating. Bwaahaha, finding definitions which tell me I dissociate fully always. Nah. Can’t be.

Back to misery: how to let go. I think I have an attachment to it because that is how I was made before being born and it just feels familiar. Since it is repetitive behaviour it obviously feels more rewarding than anything else. And now I totally diminish the fact that I have lived in a house with a depressed mother who was incapable of caring for me since my 8th birthday. One who, before my 8th birthday thought of me as ‘too much’ and ‘needs to be less her in order to deal’. Who needed to diminish me in order for herself to survive. She had troubles with my cuddliness, sexuality and outgoing personality. I guess nothing changed; getting into trouble with women higher in the hierarchy about sex.

Back to misery and more to how to let go. I am trying to let go of this dark cloud of misery which has been surrounding me for a while and it makes my body react instantly. I feel unsafe if I were to let go. The misery shapes me, keeps a shield around me, keeps me sitting up straigth-ish. I feel directionless and unsafe when I try to let go. I also feel way more flexible and lighter. But I cover that up immediately with the reaction: it will go away, they will break it, they always do, it always does. Reverse that and I am saying: I use misery as a direction thing, as a compass and as protection from harm. I think I also use it not to be seen. This mist between me and others. The 10.001 words I place between you and me. Not always words of connections, sometimes I get the idea that I speak and write so much because I want to build a barrier? I always think I am hiding in plain sight. People never believe me when I say I am scared because they would be too scared to even mention it. Ha! I am scared and brainless. ๐Ÿ˜‰ Or brave. ๐Ÿ˜€ Or blunt. Or trusting too much. I think parts of that are true.

So, back to misery and how to let go? Dunno. I am tired. I’m going to bed. It is 1:45 here and that is way to late. Have been getting up at 4:45 this week for early shifts and I should not try to reverse that in the weekend. A woman who loves herself, would love herself and be in bed already. ๐Ÿ™‚

Maybe the solutions is to replace misery with nice experiences, as long as it is not possible to let go. And somehow that sounds like replacement addiction. And somehow my attachment to misery fits the definition of ‘hanging on to something which is destructive’. The other day, on the bike I had a few seconds of letting go… and then I quickly returned to holding on because I could feel this blaze of psychotic fear come up – or at least what I associate with psychosis. Mary O’Malley says that consciousness does not ‘just happen and then be there to stay’. She says it comes with an insight, and then leaves, and comes back, possibly to stay longer, just to leave again and so on. That is how I experience well, experiences like this.

I am off to bed. If you are so brave to have read through all of this… thank you :-).

Wishing you a nice weekend.

xx, Feeling

Went to see the GP

Went to see the GP. Things aren’t going all too well. Darkness surrounds me during the day and during the night my dreams take me to revisit abuse in the past. It is not that I ever really forgot what happened, it is ‘just’ that I drank the weight, the impact of it ‘away’. And now they come back to be, what? Understood? Trying. Sleep has always been my safe place. Now it becomes a not so safe place.

Walked into the practice, literally a tsunami of depression hits me from the back of the building where the waiting room is. Very much a WTF experience. I sit down at a large coffee table and diagonally across is a girl of about 23-25 years. Her depression is so intense it is palpable. She has an appointment with the GP before me.

I enter the GP’s room after her.
“Hello, how are you?”
“I thought I had problems, after seeing that girl I know I am fine.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because her depression is so intense that I could feel it when walking into the building.”
“Yes, she is in a bad state. So, how are YOU?”

Blablablablabla…. but I am glad this happened. Not nice for her, she lives in no-man’s land. But a good, good lesson for me. ๐Ÿ™‚

I am happy that I quit. No matter how nasty things are. I have 3 days off. Another appointment set in 2 weeks where I asked her to help me with sugar addiction and sorting some other physical stuff out. I don’t have to do anything, but I can try and see what I can do.

A woman who loves herself would go watch an episode of Master chef. ๐Ÿ™‚

Have a nice evening/day. ๐Ÿ™‚

xx, Feeling

Free online summit on Self-acceptance / dealing with the inner critic

Hi,

I ‘spammed’ this in here before but I want to mention that the free online summit on self-acceptance has started today.

Self acceptance leads to less projections and less critical behaviour towards others (hence my interest :-/, much to learn there) so… finally to a better world!

I am making some tea and let’s see what it brings. ๐Ÿ™‚

I am happy that I quit. I am going through a very rough patch and it is tough. Life has not been so tough since before I quit drinking – so blรจgh. I did however realise that I have EVERYTHING in house to ‘fix’ me. To work things out. But my desire to do so leaves me.

At which moment I thought… stuff it all… I’m gonna do it my way. What can I do? I can not change myself now, but I know homeopathy can help me, so lets see where Google takes me. 1 Search and 3 clicks on a website took me to a vid of Mr Vithoulkas who has a vid on a certain homeopathic medicine which starts with “these people are not closed, they miss a layer”. Which are exactly the words I would use to describe myself. Not all of it fits – but I’m gonna go with it anyway.

Visiting the GP this week. Work issues combined with re-visiting memories of my youth have brought me to the edge of what I think I can bear. Let’s see what I got, it is time to work through this. This is exactly the point where I have stopped developing, as in ‘always stopped’. It sort of feels like ‘sink or swim’. :-/ Blรจgh.

I am happy that I quit. In a sort of obliged way. The thought of drinking has crossed my mind. I’m thinking there is a danger where I go over the top with thinking ‘I don’t want this life anymore’ and then stepping back into ‘ooh, if it is that bad, I might as well drink because that is a better ‘solution’. Trap number 457. Overdo the one feeling as to make it ok to drink because that is less bad. I do not physically feel like drinking, I do not have urges, it is ‘just’ that my mind is setting traps which, if I were to follow them, would lead me to a bad place.

Addiction is a spiritual misunderstanding of life, at first drinking was a survival technique but ha, as with every shortcut, it started to work against me. That wish for a short-cut is still there. I somehow ‘feel entitled’ to because I have this weird, disfunctional, emotionally handicapped personality. Ha. Well, yeah, poor me. ๐Ÿ˜ฆ Hello underdog :-). Self-acceptance. Try it in a sentence today! ๐Ÿ˜€

Hope you are having a nice, sober day!

xx, Feeling

Free online course on Self-acceptance

Dear all,

Sounds True has a free online course on the subject of Self-acceptance, starting the 11th of September 2017.

Check the link for the course here. Find more wonderful stuff, free and paid at their store.

I am happy that I quit drinking. Otherwise I would not have noticed that I am currently doing shit with my life. I am, haha, practicing self-acceptance though. At which I smile like a farmer with a toothache – or so we put it in Dutch.

xx, Feeling

Btw: if any of you may wonder, I am not in any way connected to any of these free online courses / summits / conferences I post.