After my visit to the government doctor I visited my GP. We worked out that I would get help. Up till then I had thought along the same lines as when being addicted to drinking: if I just do this and that, all will be well. This and that would be ‘moderate’ when I was drinking. Currently it would be ‘wake up on time, shower, dress, eat well, excercise, socialize, go to be early’. And then I found it did not work anymore.
Not all was not well. That night I went into a psychotic episode force 5 on a 10 point scale. That was extremely scary. I had to pull everything together not to lose my mind. I realised that my fear of losing my mind put extra pressure on whatever it was that was happening. So with what was left I deliberately looked through my toolbox. I found: breath, relax, drink water, pat the cat and EFT and EMDR. I did not have the energy for EFT but I did move my eyeballs from left to right and back repeatedly. In only seconds I relaxed, yawned and found a little footing. WONDERFUL. It helped me through the next half hour and I fell asleep. Sleeping is better. Next days I keep on moving my eyeballs left and right and I can literally feel the pressure receding. Immediately. Wonderful. 🙂 Thank you Louise and all others who are involved for pointing me at this methode. 🙂
I also found: call somebody. I can not remember why I dismissed that. Possibly because it was night. Most likely because I do not want people to think I have gone over the edge.
I just read my former post again. Sound quite crazy, difficult to read. Things got worse. Some of you might have read the post where I spoke about the abuse issues I encountered in New Zealand. My niece just moved over there. She is 17 years old. She has not even been there a full month I believe and she has been forcefully kissed against her will by a guy at a party. Photo’s were made too and used against her when she replied in a chat that she did not like it. This is the same niece I wanted to have a talk with about safety and well, the rape culture before she went to NZ, her mother ‘forbade’ that. Same mother and father (my brother) who laughed at her and the situation when she reported guys had put a wager on who ‘got her first’. She is lesbian but not out of the closet in NZ.
Not sure how but I sensed something was off, I don’t know, the photos of outings just looked too glamorous but her personality was not filling up the gap between her and the glamour. I started chatting. It took me 2 hours of chatting with her before she finally came clear on what had happened and she still is too ashamed and traumatized to give the details.
She does not want me to inform her parents. I haggled a deal with her that she connects with a teacher at school the moment she feels scared. Also that she will tell the counsellor of the exchange organisation whom she meets this week.
I know this is not about me but at some point I was wondering: how the hell am I to stay sane during this? This theme in my life where I sense and see danger and nobody listens and bad things happen. Even after they happen people laugh and traumatized persons get dissed. It is, well, very unpleasant. Traumatizing in itself. Eyes left, right, left, right, left. Breathe….. yawn. I yawn within 10 times left and right. 🙂 Not sure what that is about. Guess I am tired.
And I am sick and tired of things like these pushing me towards the edge. There must be another way of dealing with this.
I am grateful that I have this 6th sense where I can literally feel around the world that a person I know is in trouble. I am grateful that I have enough knowledge of speaking with traumatized people to be able to hold some space for her. I am absolutely pissed that she has to go through this. I am absolutely pissed that I have to go through this. I am absolutely pissed at this sick sick world.
Ok. Thanks for reading that :-).
So…. I’m looking for therapists. I’m thinking I would like to start with a therapist on vanishing twin syndrome. There are several around by now but many are ‘far’ away. I am scared to travel currently. I guess I could speak with friends and ask them to go with me. Also…. if this is so intense, maybe I should wait till I am a little more stable. But then again… will I get stable if I do not address the main issue.
Maybe the main issue is not having hope left. I was thinking about this. Can’t believe the jokes the Universe plays on me because I IMMEDIATELY got a FB message on ‘Hope in these dark Trump times’. 🙂 It was good. 🙂
Ok. If the main issue is not having any hope left, I have Bach remedies on the subject of Hope in my toolbox. I keep on not wanting to do the work to get me healthy and back because I am SO SICK of falling back in this dark pit. The loneliness. The despair. The pain of seeing how things are run in this world. Again and again walking into people and situations which press my buttons. Not being able to deal with that. The sensitivity which sometimes feels like I am walking around without skin and everybody can look into my soul. Hahaha, and if they don’t they can read this blog ;-). Ghegheghe…. eh…
Ok, I need to step up my game. I have found parts of self-love where I now believe I do matter. In the process of allowing me to live, I also decided that I do not suck – the whole world sucks. This is not a personal thing, it is ‘just’ governments, multinationals like Monsanto and Shell, environmental polluters, rapists etc.) I guess in time this will balance out. Now I ‘just’ (?) do not have the energy anymore and I am scared for relapsing into where I am now. Hmmm…. I am scared to relapse so I stay still down in the pit. Hmmm…. food for thought.
I put the word ‘just’ between quotes because I have an issue with that word. I noticed it is used by me and others to quickly skip past something which is can/must/should/whatever be mentioned. It is a word to help hide stuff. Not sure what I am hiding. My justs are never just. Which is a very funny sentence. A scary one. I’m leaving it in here. Future will tell what it means. Feels like there is something lying its ass off here and I can’t see it. 😀 OMG, well, future will tell. Ok, future is here, it is in the paragraph already, I started off with it; whenever I want to use ‘just’ I skip feelings, that is unjust about it. My justs are never just.
Ok, cooking time and after that tea time and looking up Bach remedies on hope. 🙂
Thank you for reading. I do realise that I unload on this page and it is not elegant. I can totally understand when this is too much for people. I would wish to carry messages of ‘hope’ and baking cakes but that is not the flavour of the dish called ‘Feeling’. I wish it were different.
I am happy that I quit. I, haha, would be such a mess if I had not. 😀 Yeah, realising that things could be way worse. 🙂 Realising that is good.
Yesterday a friend and I returned a crate of empty beer bottles which had been on my balcony for over 4 years. As I live on the 4th floor without an elevator I used to drink from cans but… at some point, 4 years ago I was trying to quit and then favo beer came on sale in the bottles. I promised myself that it would not be so bad if I just moderated. Well, I guess you know how that works out… Some 4 years and 2 days later…. I FINALLY got to bringing it back. 🙂 It has 4 euro deposit money so obviously I wanted to cash that.
All this time of not drinking I had been hesitant to bring the bottles back. At first the rattling of bottles in a crate ignited thoughts of drinking. Later it brought back specific memories of what I call our ‘drunken nest’ at home. My dad, brother, friends and I would drink bottled beer on a summer evening at a campfire. I won’t go romanticising this because the truth was that I was already addicted then and the family dysfunctional partially because of the use of alcohol. Looking back now I realise that both my parents had ‘the gene’ even though they never got into it to the max. My father did for a few years when he studied but that finished off his study and he had to move back to his teetotaler parents so that sorted that.
That is the thing with drinking while having a family: it is not only the person who drinks who is affected, it is everybody. When drinking my mother was not available, not for normal conversation, not for connecting, everything was ‘dealt’ with quickly and in an irritated manner. She made clear that we came between her and her drink, or as she would phrase it: “the only moment of the day I have to myself”. A lot of the issues I could have used help with as a teenager, like sexual assault where not spoken off because she was already irritated when I mentioned something simple as school stuff. That is what she taught us; alcohol is more important than you are. And in my twisted and already addicted mind that read: drinking = solving problems.
When my dad drank he would become even more convinced of himself and start orating for 3 hours on end on dark subjects nobody was interested in like doomsday and the end of times. Hmm, orating for 3 hours… how does that sound familiar? If anybody protested, specifically when my mother protested, he would lash out like trying to win the first price for bullying. After that we would all smooth it over with more booze. Flush the tension away.
Mike from the blog ‘dharmaholic‘ spoke about having a family and drinking a few days ago in an interesting post and the shame based family:
For your information, here are some of the things Bradshaw (edit: writer of the book ‘Healing The Shame That Binds You’ about shame, shame based families and addiction) speaks about parent modeling and why shame-based parents have little ability in these matters.
‘Modeling includes how to be a man or a woman; how to relate intimately to another person; how to acknowledge and express emotions; how to fight fairly; how to have physical, emotional, and intellectual boundaries; how to communicate;how to cope and survive life’s unending problems; how to be self-disciplined; and how to love oneself and another. Shame-based parents cannot do any of these”.
That was how my parents failed to be present to my brother and I, to themselves, to eachother and to family and the few friends they had; because of their drinking and their fights with themselves and the fights between them. 😦
The tv-series Patrick Melrose (addicty trying to get clean and trying to deal with his past of abuse) is on in The Netherlands. Obviously my parents were not quite as far away from me as his and the abuse did not come from within the family – but what is very familiar is that undertone of dread. continuous insecurity, fearing I, my integrity, would be attacked, abused. In early childhood I could ‘get over things’ and ‘forget about them’ but the older I grew and the more incidents added on the more I would freeze. And from early puberty onwards I was continuously in a fight/flight/freeze….. and drink mode.
Ok, well, back to the crate on the balcony. I had cleaned the balcony but the crate was staring at me. Earlier I thought keeping it was a good idea to remind me of my stupidity and all the wrongs I had done. I mentioned this to friend who came by and she said: if you do not dare to do it alone, let’s go take it to the store together. We did. 🙂 While walking I spoke about the sound being a trigger. She mentioned that it triggered her to drink cola because it reminded her of bottles of cola. 🙂 That is about focusing on not continuously fighting the old, but replacing our behaviour with new behaviour. In this case that would be drinking cola which I will not – but the sound could be from apple juice or water bottles too. Good changes. 🙂
Also: now I am able to detect what was going on and how this crate calls up memories, guilt and self-hate. In the last 4 years I have also developed some form of self-worth to realise that the hurt coming with the memories and my own judgement is not so much ‘what I deserve’ but more ‘what I learned to do to myself’. I realise guilt is a suitable emotion when applied in moderation in the correct situation. However feeling guilty, always, about everything, about being alive is not a sustainable way of living – so to say. 😉
For me shame is a big issue and finding back my voice, my right to live and right to protect myself, my right to be safe is difficult. So many damaged my physical and emotional integrity to rid themselves of their own feelings of shame through aggressive sexual acts against me. Sexual abuse was the key ingredient of my parents marriage with daily doses of forced sex. That layer of vile acts seeped through the family and poisoned everbodies’ mind, heart, soul and energy system.
So yeah, shame is something to work on for me. And I am guessing at some point in my life it would be nice to be free of reproaching my parents for letting me down. Hell, not reproaching parents for having kids and thinking they can keep them safe while my mother actually knew their marriage would be a destructive one, would be nice. And yes, I know this is twisted thinking but that is a part within which is fucked up badly. I decided that I would never have kids because I would not want to do to anybody what my parents did to me / did not do for me. Everybody kept on and keeps on saying ‘but they were trying their best’. But if unleashing ones own shame on kids is the best… I don’t want to walk down that road. And knowing I was addicted to alcohol: what did I have to offer? Continuation of damaged genes and sick coping mechanisms?
Back to the crate: 3 Years and 10 months sober I do not have to ‘keep up appearances’ and then buckle under the weight of shame and self-hate only to drink again. I am now able to voice my worries to a friend who comforts me and helps me out in a practical way: walk with me to the store, be present to my discomfort. And I am able to accept that just as it is without feeling inferior. I can thank her for that without feeling stupid and not suitable to live.
Those are a lot of changes. 🙂 I am not in AA but seeing how my developments go I can see how they touch upon the 12 steps. 🙂 And indeed, how resentment is an important part of me and it hinders me. But I can not step past the deliberate hurt they caused me, for putting me in harm’s way on purpose, for not listening when I expressed abuse. For sending me back into social situations in which I had been abused. For not believing me when telling them my brother was egging the abusers on. For not believing me my brother pulled a knife at me. For disbelieving everything I said from that point onwards because ‘he would not do such stuff’. Well. He did. And they did. And while I was losing myself and almost soiled myself my mother was looking sincere but not fully. I never understood until I learned about micro-expressions; that explained the glimpses of joy combined with power and sex. Vile. She was smiling at me and experiencing lust when sending me back into the crowd with luring, lusting and grabbing guys willing to go to any length to get some action – there was no protecting me. Because drinking. Because my misery made her feel less alone? I do not know. She had been perverted and now it was my turn. That is what families are about: handing down experiences. Unfortunately that counts for the darker ones too. 😦 Patrick Melrose is very explicit about not wanting to live in this system himself and at the same time behaves exactly the same way his father did. 😦
That’s the thing isn’t it: we all think we will be there for kids, friends, nephews, nieces, family, colleagues, neighbours when they want to express something awful and need help. But the reality is: as long as we do not look at our own pain and darkness, kids, friends, nephews, nieces, family, collegues, neighbours turn into people who are uncomfortable to be around with after they have been hurt. Typically kids who have been abused or bullied will not ‘just cry’ so others can feel sorry for them and comfort them. They have been touched by the shame of the abuser and therefore do not feel the right to cry anymore. They whine, become silent, they can become aggressive or withdraw and stumble over their own feet exactly when others ‘need’ them to be inspirational and show off. And if they can not perform beautifully on Sundays at grandma’s, at school or at football, at least don’t be a whining embarrassment. I cried, I begged, I moaned, I sabotaged and I got dismissed by my parents for whining so they send me back into the lion’s pit. I learned I had no value.
“You are an embarrassment, I am ashamed of you.” actually means: “Your behaviour touches something in me I can not carry, and I dislike you for reminding me of the shame, guilt, self-loathing I have inside.” That is how transfer works. I have shame, you remind me of it, I need to lash out so I can feel better, you feel worse and now you carry my shame.
The other way around: I am thinking, when experiencing discomfort like shame and unworthiness in dealing with somebody, especially kids, it is extremely important to be aware of what is going on and what is carried over, what does not want to be seen, what has no right to exist. Alcohol and other drugs prevents parents, teachers, therapists from doing that because addiction is a shame fueled misunderstanding of life.
In the last months I ended up in a dark depression and allowed myself to go into my underdog mode. Rock bottom will be the solid bottom on which I rebuild my life – I hope ;-). I will sink and sink till I let go of the attachment to destructive patterns. Knowing that I let go. I cut out everybody who did not exactly believe me as I experienced my life and speak about it. No matter how much I moan I expect people to listen and if they don’t they can get out of my life. I had to do that to make space for me to believe me, to take myself seriously, to take back room in myself to experience. Moaning only happens when people do not take their own pain seriously. Moaning is a structure of squeezing a non-existent pimple right next to a giant white head. I was going to not dismiss myself too, upfront. Not going to set boundaries to experiencing the damage which has been done. Not going to slightly change my story or leave stuff out to make people accept it.
My dreams looked and felt like this vid, that person. “The monsters are running wild inside of me. I am faded. So lost. I am faded.”
It was informative. The utter darkness of not wanting to live, not being able to be social, not taking care of me; it was dark. Days filled with planning on how to take my life. How will I make sure the right people take care of the cat and will keep her. How will I make sure they do not suspect that I’m not going on a holiday. Dark. Some days in I realised I was wanting myself out of my body constantly. Do you recognise that?
Also, I had changed the security settings to my blog and I had to type in the name to this blog every time I wanted to read something. I realised that I was not feeling my way back into life. I was pushing myself away from experiencing what was going on but making a ‘kill the ego’ solution to it by wanting to die. As I was laying in my bed anyway I dove into what was.
I can tell you, the running for the darkness and going into suicide thinking is dark. What is behind that within me is dark too but there is a difference. Behind it is destruction. It is natural. It is Thanatos. The Universe has 2 main powers: one is life and the other is death. You can call it light and darkness, yin and yang, whatever. One is expanding, the other is subtracting. The one can not live without the other. The substracting balances the growth. It is that which brings order to the chaos so the growth can follow a sustainable path, not grow wild, not overgrow itself. It sets boundaries to that without boundaries, which is infinite, which is unlimited. I dread endings. Every ending has an atmosphere of my brother dying. I dread boundaries and limits. I ‘chose’ an addiction which I thought helped me to avoid all of that – only to find that the alcohol in the end limited me. Which is correct. That is how Life is.
The darkness is where I do not want to be, I relate this back to the suffering in the womb when my brother died. And funny; I realised that me backing away from this energy to quit building, to make sensible choices instead of wanting it all, makes it impossible for me to fulfill any project or actually achieve something in life because I dread the ending of it. The energy connected to ‘being done’ is for me connected with terror and death. So I back away.
And obviously, in backing away I do not accept life on life’s terms and get unbalanced. 😦 Just Universal laws. The darkness, it is real. It is part of Life. It is natural. I feel I have gotten an extra leg to walk on, like parts in my body have re-integrated with experiencing this darkness within. The suicidal thinking is another darkness, one with ‘opinions’ and ‘wants and needs’, an ego created darkness. The darkness of Life, as I experienced it then is just what it is: destruction. Not personal. Not focussed on the ego. Overwhelming and powerful but true and clear. Quite a relieve actually.
The last month has been about falling apart, looking at all the pieces and the glue which kept them together. Most of the glue is/was not so much a life force but it consists of freeze. Frozen emotions, frozen processes, blocked paths through life. Funny how that what I fear ‘the darkness’ actually ends up building my system itself and preventing the opposite ‘Life’ to happen. Which is… exactly how I think it works. I wanted to find freedom in alcohol while I found enslavement. I wanted financial freedom while I found that depletes my funds :-). I wanted to live without boundaries while I found that means that indeed I reach nothing. I want to explain stuff and bury people in words.
Living Life on life’s terms. 🙂 I have made a big step and while I thought I stepped into the darkness I stepped into freedom. Not kaboom Light, but well, relieve, understanding of the workings of me. Experiencing internal freedom, you know; when you understand stuff and feel your DNA change. 🙂
One of the characteristics of people with a vanishing twin is that they can not finish stuff. Their energy is in the start of a project and then…. pfffff…. they seem to lose interest, fall into pits nobody else would fall in, digress (like now ;-)) find another subject which is way more interesting. I have that. It looks like something which could be just ‘solved’ with improving my moral. But that is not how it works. Like addiction is not a moral disease, my running for the darkness which I connect to endings is not a moral failing either – it is a structural design mistake of my energetic system, or a solution my system made up to deal with the trauma. It would however be very nice to sort of get a grip on my life. 😉 Fix it. Quick! 😀 Getting there.
Some days I can eat well which means 2 home-made meals a day. Sleep well, which by now means going to bed before 02:00 (waaaaay to late for me). Read some, currently the Artemis Fowl series again. I clean the house before visits from friends and the hug-budy which means at least weekly cleaning. He is a cosy, sexy comfort but even after 7 months I do not want to engage into a full sex act. It is actually quite interesting to do all the other things which normally fade out of a relation. When was the last time you spend 4 hours hugging, talking, tickling, massaging and well, some more sexually oriented frolicking?
I am starting to notice differences between us which I am not sure we can or I want to bridge. Also I am not sure if being friends with benefits is a good thing for my dysfunctional heart. Sometimes it only teaches my heart to be more dysfunctional; loving is ok, receiving is impossible. Addict trait; don’t touch me. My heart is shut.
Workwise I am still lost on what and where. The social security people have put me at the bottom of the pile. I guess this is because I start crying every time they ask a question…. sigh, how will I ever be ‘normal’ again? I just don’t know what I want. I want a simple job in a safe environment. But the simple jobs don’t seem to come with safe environments until I find some stability within myself. Having stepped in the darkness behind my own ‘made-up’ darkness is a good thing. However, I do not know how many layers this onion has. And if I need to peel them all to be able to function again at my level of education. Or maybe, maybe, the level at which I am supposed to function is not equal to my emotional intelligence or stress control and maybe I never will. I am going to ask the social security if they can help find out what I want and can do, where my strengths and weaknesses are. Writing short posts is not one of them ;-).
Post 526 in this blog. 🙂 I am happy that I quit. I realise that my happiness is something of an ‘obligatory’ thing. I do not experience a lot of happiness lately, more ‘relieve’ from the darkness. That does not count in my daily practise for ‘being happy that I quit’ but there is no other experience currently. I do resent drinking. My SIL was eating an oven dish with mushrooms in a wine-cheese sauce. I had forgotten about the wine and took a small bite. MG. Tastes like cheese vomit. Brrrr…. People with alcohol breath smell like they swallowed cleaning agent. So no, not in the danger zone but it worries me that I do not ‘repair’ more quickly. And then again: I have gotten a big dose of the darkness and this comes back layer after layer. These last weeks have changed a lot. I hope when the next bout of depression comes a long I am brave enough to really feel into it again. 🙂
The hugbuddy is back from being on a trip to another side of this globe. Having had a cool down time was good but hugs are better. 🙂
And now I wonder: what is a relation actually? Do I like him for who he is? (or) Do I like how he makes me feel? Do I like how we feel/are together?
It is strange. Due to his and mine circumstances I am not ready to go anywhere with this further than, well, some sexy hugging. But you and I know that if this continuous long enough at least one of the buddies (bodies?) will fall in love.
I like him. But he’s more than 15 years younger and I feel a fool over that. All is well when we are together but not when I add the ‘rest of the world’ to this, that is when I feel stupid for liking him. The rest of the world includes his estranged wife out of an arranged marriage. FYI: they have been living apart for years now, little to no contact. Does that make it ok? I do no not know.
All the howevers together: he makes me feel good. I feel at ease with him, he spots any kind of stress in me immediately. Reminds me in a not spiritual but spiritual way that I should not focus on the negative. He appreciates being with me deeply without funniness about how I should be different. And I am testing boundaries in that with not shaving. Yes, you heard me; not, not anywhere. Self-protection too; either body, leg, stomach, armpit, ass crack hair shames me into not going any further than some sexy hugs… Or… it will force him (and me!!) into accepting me AS I AM; ‘flawed’, hairy, not willing anymore to be somebody I am not, not the one who uses cultural shame to turn me into somebody who is ‘ever ready and available’. No, not the smelly hairy; the just came out of the shower hairy.
All of my relations have been oneS where I felt exactly NOT appreciated as I am. Every man struggled with this specific me-ness, the special Feeling flavour so to say. At first attracted by it and then repelled. But then again, I never appreciated me as I was and I am thinking that might reflect back into relations with the world. No, not blaming me for others being an asshole. Or yes, maybe I do. Have not worked that out, felt that through, thought about it.
All in all, this well, whatever it is with the hugbuddy: Do I like being with him because he makes me feel good? Or do I like him regardless of any benefits? Do I like him regardless of possible negatives?
Or is all this wondering about how things work of no use? And is the biology of being together a healing process in itself, which is why it is nice. Biology always makes good things feel nice. 🙂 ❤ The pure nice, not the addicted nice.
I can see things, physical things, emotional things, spiritual things in him heal when he is with me and being held. He lets go of a lot of shame and pain when he is with me. Awful experiences get vented, get air, can transform, neutralise. And the same with me. At first it irritated me a little, thinking ‘I am not your mother’. And then I realised that I could just let things be and help another person in distress. There is a lot of holding space going on. That what has been damaged in the symbiosis can be repaired in the symbioses.
He is very specific in asking physical things: ‘Can you please massage my shoulder there?” Or: “Can you please put your thumbs next to my spine.” I do not know how to do that. At first I was offended. Then I thought: I am only offended because I do not dare to ask that. 🙂 So I thought being with him will teach me how to. By now I am becoming more vocal about what I do not like. I never knew there are very many ways I do not like to be touched. I do not like to be grabbed. That is just a one way ticket into the physical and mental memory of abuse and I move out of my body! Never knew that so clearly as I do now.
It made me wonder what grabbing actually is. To me grabbing is taking hold of a body or part of a body for your own interest, with no consideration for or real interest in the other. Sex can easily turn into a grabbing match. The play with grabbing can even be kinky – but without intimacy and interest in the other it is destructive. Drunk sex can be specifically grabby. Not sure if I can recall well. Gosh, bad joke.
Now I am coming to the part in my life where I have to learn to stand up and be specific about my wishes in physical contact. Long time ago I realised that for me, there is rape and there is self-rape. 😦 If now, I can not stand grabbing while being in a situation that is potentially safe – I do not speak up for myself to stop the grabbing, I go into self-rape mode.
Self rape mode is such a fucking infuriating, frustrating phase of abuse!!! First one gets stripped of self, self-protection, self-care, worth. Not saying that abuse makes a person lose worth. Never! But the purpose of the abuser is to make that appear so and often the victim is not strong enough to fight that. The abuser knows this and that is why the victim gets picked and broken. The victim of child abuse is hardly ever 6 feet 7 muscly 120 kilo guy from fighting club or biker gang, it is the young child which is vulnerable and can not fight back. And that is why the predator picks them. They never take on people the can not ‘win’ from. A sick combination of fear and lust spurs them on and cunning thinking of a sex addict with a liking for perverted sex* within helps them to do what they do and often get away with it. In more judgmental wording: they are cowards. * Please note I write sex addict with a liking for perveted sex in order not to give the impression that I think all sex addicts are child abusers. The vibes I got from my abusers where strong vibes of addiction: knowing things are wrong but not being able to work against what they were doing.
Predators will threaten with more violence or more of the bad stuff if you do not go along. This is also a way to make the victim submit: “You did it yourself.” They strip a person of everything, they can not ‘be’ with a person when the other person has value, so the value must go. For me, to come out of the feeling of rape and out of self-rape I need to change things around. If I want to heal, it takes Self, self-protection, self-care and – worth to actually go against what is happening. That inversions is so difficult, so frustrating. And, in some childish terms maybe: so unfair. But still. It needs to be done.
They tell you: “Hold still or I’ll hurt you more.” The more I struggled and fought for my life, the more life they need to take away. And now I need to reverse the shutting up, the moving out of my body to moving back in, experiencing it all and speaking out when things don’t go as I want to. It seems unfair for me to have to do this because of the other persons perverted, corrupted personality. When feeling into this I realise that the really sick ones were victims too. I know that, I feel that with every fiber. I realised it then. I can word and understand it now. But I do not have to carry their burden. Let go. “That is your sickness. I do not want it.” “Destroying me will not make you whole.”
So. Guess the this whole thing with the hugbuddy wakes up more than I realised. I think it is good. I found a hugbuddy who, without being irritated, without questioning kisses my tears away and asks “flashbacks?”
When we touch I do all these exercises of really being there in the moment and experiencing what is going on. He has had his share of abusive situations so he knows pretty well what flashbacks are. So I can explain that somebody pulling my hair gives me flashbacks. He understands. And! He is not irritated over that. 🙂 I have been with a lot of guys who did not understand and felt accused. I guess I used to accuse guys for being guy. I hate man because they have been The Oppressor, always. Now I worked in two different companies where women where The Sexual Oppressor and haha, that has balanced my view. 😀 Gosh, laughing here. What a shit hole this world is. 😀
And then I come to my heart. What about my heart? My heart loves him as a person. Not specifically as ‘my’ person. I tend to focus on other things and more or less forget about him when he is not here. Like with a good friend; enjoying time together and then it is ok when they leave too. But on the other hand, I am deliberately reigning in my heart because of marriage, age and culture differences. Again. Did so with the bookstore man, doing this now. Is it good? It is illogical biologically. So that must be a warning that it will lead to painful results. We shall see.
Why does culture through movies and advertise romantify the missing of the partner part? It seems to turn relation into addiction, as if the more we have of what the other brings us, the better. Like booze to the addict. Romantically cultivating ‘missing him’ feels like addiction. So. Not going there.
Going back to the questions at the beginning of this post: I like the hugbuddy for who he is. I also appreciate how he makes me feel and find the time we spend interesting, fun and healing. But the making me feel good is not mandatory. It is added to me, to us, and appreciated. When asked I would say I am interested in seeing how continued contact would enfold but (self)care and openness need to be present in that.
Ooh, Tarot gave “Love”as an answer to what it is between the hugbuddy and me. But then again: so it did with the bookstore man. So… well. 🙂
I am happy that I quit. My life is difficult right now. So far no work and no money because I go into freeze when dealing with the social security. I did…. however ask for help and kept on asking till I got it. Which is strange because again I have to be strong exactly when I am not.
I feel like I am in a transition time, everything shifts. On second I experience my inner world to be one of no outlook anywhere. My inside world shows nothing but flames all around me burning, burning, burning. The next I am understanding the energetic workings of abuse, really seeing what happened in situations and breaking free of bond that kept me there. By the way, this is also very much due to reading Bethanyk’s blog ‘Not my secret.’ She writes about horrific abuse and says: it is NOT MY SECRET. As I say: “That is your sickness. I do not want it.” Taking off the shame, refusing to accept the shame that predators put on her helped me realise how this works in me. Again many thanks to a person who walks this path before me and reaches back with writing. <3.
A woman who loves herself would love herself….. Would edit this post so it can be understood better. I have done so as far as I can manage now. I guess when the dust settles, I will organise. Or not. I am not taking time to let the post rest. So I hope it reaches you well.