Coping well with a crate of empty beer bottles, some shame, some darkness and some understanding of the internal Universe.

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…Β  Some 4 years and 2 days later….Β  I FINALLY got to bringing it back. πŸ™‚ 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’Β  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”.Β  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.Β  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.

β€˜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 toΒ  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. πŸ™‚ 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. πŸ™‚ 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. πŸ™‚

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. πŸ˜‰

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 emotionalΒ  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. πŸ™‚ I am not in AA but seeing how my developments go I can see how they touch upon the 12 steps. πŸ™‚ 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,Β  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 darknessΒ  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. πŸ™‚ 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. πŸ™‚

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. πŸ˜‰ Fix it. Quick! πŸ˜€ 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. πŸ™‚ 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. πŸ™‚

Wishing you a good sober night/day.

xx, Feeling

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Reminder: online summit ‘Recovery 2.0’

Hi there,

Soon you will not know what to watch anymore! Summit overwhelm! Well, if you got to this page because you searched for ‘addiction’ or you notice you or somebody in your surroundings has a tendency to self-destruct in no matter what way… check out Recovery 2.0Β Β 

Also: if you happen to be depressed or experiencing other mental illnesses, quiting alcohol can greatly improve your life. The booze industry usually does not tell you that so I doing that here. πŸ™‚

Hope you enjoy!

I for one am happy that I stopped drinking.

xx, Feeling

There is hope :-) <3

Yay! You can’t believe what has been handed to me, on a plate…. I’m back. Well, not yet, but I have hopes I could be. Happy now. πŸ™‚

Since my boat started sinking I have been seeing my GP once a week. Just to ‘keep check on me’. She’s a homeopathic doctor with a GP license. She believes in people healing themselves and she is willing to help that process along with her knowledge and intuition. I like that.Β What I like about her is that she cares, but let me decide what I do or do not want and she does not push things on me. I like that too. πŸ™‚

When I spoke with her about the vanishing twin, me feeling not ‘incarnated’ in this world and lacking self-care she pointed me at the site of Tinus Smits. Smits is a Dutch homeopathic doctor who, as I understand it, focussed on matching homeopathic medicine to different layers of development of the human being. And with that he found, as most doctors would I guess, that some medicine speak to the body very well, and others more to the mind and then finally to the spirit and the connection of the spirit to the universe. (these are my words to how I understand what is written on the website)

Well, this morning I did a little reading through the several (rather funny…) medicines on the site I found:

  • people low in self-care
  • missing ‘a layer’, not able to filter impressions out, not able to stand up for themselves
  • extremely sensitive to impressions, feelings of others, food.
  • unaware of what feelings belongs to them and what belongs to the other
  • the feeling of not being incarnated in this body / world
  • indulging in sweetness and chocolate
  • emotionally unstable (I assume you noticed? :-D)
  • hypoglycemia, obesity, eating disorders
  • feeling/experiencing a lack of attention and love

Quotes from the website of Tinus Smits:

The essence of Vernix caseosa is insufficient separation of its own energy fields from the energy outside.

In such a state we are the playing ball of energies coming from outside, mixed up with our own energy creating chaos inside. This can force us in an attitude of taking distance to protect our selves, of staying home because we need the protection of our house as a second shield. We have to avoid watching TV, to listen to the radio, to read the journal and have only superficial contacts with other people. But this is only a plaster on a bleeding wound. Or we can be completely overwhelmed by all these outer energies, not knowing how to canalize them, not aware of what happens. Many of these patients are so vulnerable that they are continuously in a state of emotional imbalance. Vernix therefore can be of wonderful help at a certain moment in our live, when we have the feeling that we are overwhelmed and unable to defend ourselves. It enables us to build up a natural separation between our own energy and the outside energy.

And now for the part which might…. sound a little funny to those who are not familair with homeopathy. Herewith my laymen’s explanation of things:

We use vaccines to inoculate people against whatever diseases. In those vaccines medical firms put weakened viruses of the diseases. The body reacts to the vaccine by making anti-bodies and therewith strengthening itself. That are vaccins.

Now there is isopathy: isopathy works sort of the same… but uses not only viruses but also ‘chocolate’ or ‘dog hairs’ if you will, in a diluted version to make the body aware of having to build up some strength against those. In isopathy this dog hair would be used to cure an allergy against dog hair.

Take it one step further and you dilute the dog hair* to ‘infinity’, even so far that you do have any molecules of the dog hair in the remedy, there is still a possibility that the solution cures the allergy against dog hair.Β  I am not sure how it works. If I would be able to prove it scientifically I would be rich. Or dead, more likely. :-D. But I do not really need an explanation for this becauseΒ  I have seen transformations and healings with people and animals alike so I don’t really worry about it. I try to find explanations for others though. One of the might be that we all know that an insight in something (like really realising that drinking is not good… to ‘just’ name one πŸ˜‰ )Β  can transform people. Just like that. There has been no exchange of matter, but still there is change. Same with love, with kind words, with sending virtual hugs. πŸ™‚ Not everything that is tangible has value or has transformative impact, not everything that is not tangible lacks value or lacks transformative qualities. Or in short: there are more things in heaven an earth.

Funny comparison on a sober blog actually, only realising the double meaning of dog hair – ‘Taking a hair of the dog that bit you’ is an English saying meaning that one drinks alcohol in the morning to ‘cure’ a hangover.

Well, vaccines to isopathy to diluted isopathy. The next step is homeopathy were you take a material, e.g. common garden nettles and look at what the ‘poison’ of the hairs on the leaves and stem do to the body when we touch it. In me it causes swellings and itching. homeopathy says; if we dilute the nettle we can cure swellings and itching which look like somebody has been stung by nettles. Again, don’t ask me how it works, it just does. PROVIDING: one chooses the correct medicine and the correct dilution and also does not counteract that medicine by eating e.g. mints while taking it. There are a few counter activities but those are minor. The finding of the remedy is the most difficult. I believe for common cold there are about 20 different types of homeopathic solutions. Colds that have been caused by draft, cold rain, anger, sadness. Colds that show white, yellow, green or brown discharge. Colds which appear within a few hours and colds which take days to grow into a full cold. Colds which include sinuses and colds which drop down into the throat and what else we have there. So… yeah… there is a difficulty.

When it comes to dilutions the lower dilutions e.g. D3, D6 and D12 work more on the body while the higher ones like D30, D60, D100 and D1000 work on the mental, emotional, spiritual field.

Ok, so, that was a laymen explanation of homeopathy leading up to the funnyness of the medicine my GP proposed. Hold on to your seats. πŸ™‚

Saccharum-officinale: cane sugar. :-D. For those who lack sweetness in their lives and try to fix that from the outside. I hope this will help me deal with my addiction by helping me find an answer to the spiritual wrong turns I made when developing an addictive personality.

Lac maternum: mothers milk. Yes, from women. Obviously with their permission and with my many thanks because I hope to be able to repair the energetic ‘workings’ of what went wrong in bonding over mothers milk with my mother. That is what I hope for.

Vernix: is made from the sebum of ten different new born babies. Sebum is the white grease newborns have on their skin in the uterus. It protects their skin. I hope this will help me build this missing layer I have felt all of my life. That is what I hope for.

I have this theory that several of the energetic processes in me are not working fully or not working at all. Like being a clock with a few gears broken, others out of whack. That is doable when young and energetic, when old and on a wrong path of addiction with an addictive personality this is killing. Which…. is how it is ‘meant’ to be in the evolution; that which does not function should not procreate and die off. But still, I would rather live happily than ending up dark, work- and friendless. :-/

So…. I am HAPPY that I quit! I am happy that I have this extreme sensitivity which at times is very hard on me (but I guess most on the people around me because I it can make me a real asshole) but in times like this sends me to the right person in the right time. It is a gift. And as gifts go: they can be great, it is also another word for poison. πŸ˜€ Well, ain’t I a little ray of pitch black? πŸ˜€

Another wonderful experience at the doctor this morning. I said that I believe that sustainable healing begins with the person themselves wanting to heal and looking for solutions. But that I, in the last months had lost that ability and I could only look for help. At which she says: “Looking for help is also something that you do yourself.”

I am happy that I quit. I hope you are happy that you quit too. Or planning to do so. Not saying it is easy – well, the not drinking part was for me fortunately, the living part is a bit more eh, challenging. But I have hope, and something like desire (?) again. A want to do stuff, a want to live. Haha, finally my search for a way ‘out’ might actually help me to find a way in. πŸ™‚

I am happy.

nigellawhiteish

Wishing you a nice sober day/evening/week!

xx, Feeling

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…Β  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. πŸ˜€ 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! πŸ˜€ 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. πŸ™‚ 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. πŸ™‚ 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. πŸ™‚ / 😦

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. 😦 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. πŸ™‚

Wishing you a good day/week.

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. πŸ™‚

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. 😦 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-Β  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. 😦

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 sΓ©. 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. πŸ™‚

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. πŸ˜‰ Or brave. πŸ˜€ 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. πŸ™‚

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. πŸ™‚

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. πŸ™‚

Have a nice evening/day. πŸ™‚

xx, Feeling