Sober legs

After my revelation of yesterday I woke up this morning and the connection between my hipbone and legs seems to have come loose. Not really of course… well, guess you knew that… 😀 Just inside and my tendons and muscles want to keep holding on like crazy.

Or in other words, maybe I am starting to realise how much tension I hold on to in that area. They say in yoga that relaxing the muscles of the jaw relaxes the muscles of the hips. Guess that is happening with the singing of yesterday. Well, something is happening.

I am tired, very tired today. Need to do stuff but my brain is running like crazy – not going anywhere. Might as well do stuff I do not enjoy anyway. No harm done there.

Had a dream, something on a very strict regime and a friend of my getting into prison over nothing and then there was ‘national open prison day’ or something where prisoners were allowed out and visiters allowed in. I had a sneakpeak in, nasty, cold and wet building with waaaaaaay too little books and not enough board games. I decided NOT to steal a pair of rubber boots (What’s with the stealing in my dreams lately?) and then took off with my friends. In between we got separated but we actually found eachother again. NEW!! In my old dreams they would have taken off and left me in prison and to continue on that thought; the guards would probably not have understood that I was not a prisoner and locked me up.  So NEW.

The prison was in the ground at a beach and there was a tremendous storm going on. Hence the rubber boots. Waves of 3-4 meters high and red bus-boats having difficulty to reach the shore. We were going to take off over sea but I figured it was not safe. That is when I did loose my friends because they had to go in order to escape prison. But that was ok.

Now I would like to be able to explain dreams better. For instance; what’s with the stealing? Water seems to represent my emotional state: big waves crashing down, well; check! 😉 For now I am just happy with the lack of leaving behind, locking up and being lost. 🙂 NEW.

I am happy that I quit. I am happy with all the discoveries and yesterdays revelation. Not so happy with finding out that I am this anti-social, rude person. But happy in a sort of ‘obliged way’ that I did find that out. Doing something about it still feels a step too far. :-/ And so life goes on.

Dream of drinking

Last nights dark shadows do disappear in the light and I am happy for that because even though I know living with them, facing my fears is the only way to leave them behind me, sometimes it can feel like too much. And there is a concept that needs looking into: me thinking that ‘it should all be over’ and not accepting things as they are. I call that my ‘I want it all and I want it now’ streak. Very addicty. Needs looking into.

But not now because I want to blog this dream I had last night. I dreamed I was at school happily studying and my father popped up. He and I have not been in contact for 7 years now. Funny thing is that in my dream he looked exactly as he look(ed) when we were in contact. And I felt exactly how I have always felt and never was aware off: the pull of family and the guarding myself against the next attack on whatever I hold precious in me.

I managed to turn around in time before he saw me and disappear and be safe in the crowds. NEW, normally crowds would pull away and deliver me to him. That kept on going for a while and I was not worried when he finally saw in a corridor of the school. I ran away, knowing he could not follow very quickly because of his recent seizures. There were two buildings in the school, one was old and one was new. I liked the new building better and almost everybody was there. But in running I got lost in a maze of unfamiliar corridors of the old building. OLD: a lot of my dreams have a maze in a building or city and I always lose the way . I thought ‘I need to get out, get to the new building’ and I continued to run and feeling my way out, making decisions on the turns by instinct while in the meantime building up strength in case I would meet my dad. It worked.  And that is NEW NEW NEW NEW NEW NEW.

I lost my dad in the maze up in the attic and when I finally came down to the cantina I bought (or stole, not sure) a can of beer because I had deserved it. There was this big internal battle going on that I easily lost, because I had been through so much and succeeded that I was allowed to forget about it. So I took a sip and another one and I thought: ‘You have one chance left: DISLIKE IT NOW!!!!´ and I disliked it and I put it away. NEW NEW NEW NEW NEW NEW NEW NEW. 🙂 And the city changed into Dubai where you are not allowed to drink and all the people on the streets have this ´no drink´ aura and that made it easier.

I´m easy with my dreams: I take them face value and sometimes extend just a little when it fits the feeling. So I am scared of my dad but have learned to value myself enough to save me and feel my way out of the misery. Also the dream tells me that I am not ready to face him. And last but not least: I still think / again think that drinking is a good idea but I still had a last trick up my sleeve I had no actual knowledge of – so that comes from deep within and that is good. Very good. And NEW! 🙂

The ‘only’ thing I don’t understand about the dream is the next part where I wanted to get a bus away from the school to make sure my dad would not catch me and demand me to be his daughter, his property. But there were only taxi’s that I found too expensive. Of course those Dubai people had shitloads of money so they did not care. And btw, they were all disapproving man, that irritated me. Both thoughts are OLD as well. Ha, can’t imagine that ever changing. But that is a different subject, or maybe it is the same.

Well, step by step, one day at the time.

Happy that I quit, even though it is difficult to be sober and face what’s flooding back. Today I am not happy because quitting is rewarding, or maybe I should make it rewarding by practising to be happy…. 😉 Today I am happy in a not-unhappy way that I am getting to points where things ‘need changing’ and that when I stay sober I don’t have to do these last 2,5 months again. That is a sorry sort of happy but that is ok for now.

A Dream – The Book – The Plan

DREAM

Had a dream, can’t really remember but it was good AND: I had contact with people in the dream and they were separate people, not ‘the usual block against me’ and they said normal and nice things and did not close me out. NICE and NEW.

BOOK

Also, also, also on the book here another quote from page 270 of Seven weeks to sobriety by Joan Mathews Larson:

QUOTE: You should feel very proud and happy to have reached this point in your recovery program. Now it is time to think seriously of the future. UNQUOTE.

People that have read my blog will probably recognise the words Happy and Proud. And see! It’s time for THE PLAN.

THE PLAN

The plan is becomming an issue. I’m starting to think I should do something about it. So…. I went to bed too late yesterday and did not set my alarm. Why? I don’t know. I could not even think of a reason while doing it. Apart from that I did not want to go to bed and I did not want to set my alarm. I did get up on time but that was because my neighbour (who drinks a shitload) is always late for her work and slams the door on the way out. Well. At least she has a job.

The Plan for today is to go back to the draft version and make a paper out of it that I can actually look on on a daily base. Do what I wrote on it (15 minutes cleaning, 15 minutes excersise, 15 minutes unfucking my desk) And to finish the 7 Weeks to sobriety. (Done) and to work 2 hours on making a draft to present to my GP on Thursday. I think I need 4-6 hours for that in total so I’l better hurry.

I am happy that I quit in a worried kind of way (???) because I really need to get going with my life now. Proud, not so proud anymore, pride is de-wathevered by worry about doing stuff and not doing The Plan.

New lay, new life, another old dream

Hello,

I thought it was time for a new layout. I make such long paragraphs that the small lay that I had does not make for nice reading. Not sure about the picture yet, was looking for something that depicted the natural order of things. This is from a medieval painting depicting god creating the world in a natural order. Not sure about the god part but I do think there is a natural order. I was looking for a photo of nature that shows this but I only get sunflowers and I am not big on yellow or yellow with brown. Those were my worries for the day. 🙂

Went out with an elderly neighbour to an ecological fruit garden just outside the city where we could get our own apples and pears from the tree. Had a nice little walk and some apples of course, beautiful weather.

I feel it is time to start to live again. As in: be responsible for all aspects of my life, not only mental and physical health that I have been looking into the last 4 weeks. My GP3 asked me to draw up a plan since I indicated that I was not ready yet or not willing to look for outside help other than seeing her and my therapist. GP1 had said to me months ago: ‘We need to look into your problem with alcohol, but we will only do what you want and when you want it.’ And that was exactly the only way she could keep me in and doing this. I know me, later I realised that if she would have come up with one tiny hint of a plan in that stage I would have opposed against it. That’s not only booze talking, that’s the character.

Later when I was doing an intake for a program I thought it was a good thing to surrender that part of me but it did not work. I can only do all or nothing so I gave up everything and handed it over to ‘Those That Will Help Me’. That included my, what I call Initiative – my, not sure how to explain, inner responsibility for living?

So I went down hill rapidly from then on. Then at the day they did not call while they had said they would, I collapsed and while collapsing I noticed that I had given everything away. ‘Even they don’t think I am worth saving.’ (add drunk whining) And while noticing that and thinking ‘there is nothing left of me’ another thought came into my head ‘I always, always have myself. What to I want to do?’

I want to quit drinking and I want to become clear, walk my path. I want to Live.

‘How are you going to do that?’ Give it everything I got. I have intellect, I can read, I have this strange ability to feel my way through healing. Taking into account that I have been addicted for so long I still have quite a lot of honesty left in me. I have quit smoking, eating sugar and drinking caffeine, I know how to recognise a trap and if I have trouble or fail I can always ask help. I can trust myself in knowing what is good for me.’

And there is also a part that touched my pride because if (I imagine) that somebody says I’m not worth it, I might as well prove them wrong. Well. Let’s say I have used what I got to break the bonds with alcohol. I thought that was impossible. I thought there was nothing left of me. I guess that I was so hopelessly lost that it really was a do or die decision.

(And I’m going to compare this story with other writing before just to see if it is getting more heroic by the time.)

I have born myself again. Had a dream about that, it was 20 years ago. I had just seen the movie ‘Where the green ants dream’. In this movie an Aboriginal man sits under a trea and dreams his child. I thought that was wonderful, I understood it as meditating on the new child to come and therewith inviting a spirit to reincarnate. And in the same week I read that immaculate conception is technically possible if 2 eggs of a women mix and make a baby. That would make a clone.

So I dreamed that I had become pregnant of myself and that I had born myself. I was having a great time but being 15 I got shunned by my family. Not for being pregnant but for ‘lying’ about it which I did not because I had born myself OBVIOUSLY!! :-D. I was however allowed to live in a tent in the garden but that was about all, and doctors kept on saying that it was impossible and that the baby just looked like me a lot. ‘Give it time and it will look different.’ And of course there was my brother in the sideline despising me. All in all I was having the most important experience of my life and feeling great but I was confused by what was going on around me and people’s judgements.

Having born myself was wonderful. I understood everything I said and wanted and there was no confusion in mother I about ‘does she need a diaper or food?’ And the other way around: baby I could just communicate and be understood. It was sooo good to take care of me and be taken care of by me. In the dream I felt old pain of not being understood and needs that had not been met repairing. I could feel hurt leaving my cells and contentment and peace settle.

In real life I had been a very angry baby. I was born angry and crying angrily and very loudly. My mother said she had never seen such an angry baby. She always said that with some apprehension so I have always guessed that must have been there when I was a baby too. Well, it was there every time she said it. I feel that part of me drinking has to do with me ‘not wanting to be on this planet’. I feel I have not done the last part of my incarnation and that my anger as a baby and now has something to do with that.

Incarnation to me is about living, taking responsibility, walking my path and enjoying life as it is meant to be – whatever that might entail. I have always felt that there is a big part in me that does not want to take responsibility, would ‘rather not be here’ because ‘it is too difficult’. Me quitting drinking is important in this process of finally fully incarnating. If I totally want to be here before I die I have done a good thing with my life. And yes, I am always afraid that only an experience that has the magnitude of dying can get that depressed touch out of me… Hmmm, guess I’m running (trying to run?) to beat that to it. This is possibly a moment where the ‘believing in a higher power’ comes in handy, or letting go.

So, I am thinking I solved not being understood by having born myself and taking care of me. Part of it is sad, another part is obviously food for psychiatrists on narcissism and I have heard the dream being described as ‘a superior form of incest’ too. But I am happy with taking the healing part of it. 🙂

There was an end to it that I do not understand yet. I saw toddler I walk as a 3 years old. My dream said: the problem with you is that you are so ……  And I cannot remember that, I thought it was ‘black and white’ or ‘split’ (what would be within the theme of the dream) or ‘divided’. On her body was a raster of lines, 8 horizontal lines connected by 3 vertical lines so it was like a very simple drawing of book shelfs with 14 little blocks. The total fitted on the body of the toddler I and the left blocks, so on toddler I’s right side, where all white, the other blocks were black. And if toddler I did anything that brought me/her out of balance the blocks would shift like crazy and I/she would be uncomfortable.

About the black and white, I guess that can be taken literal; apart from my actual hair colour, compared to others, very little is grey area in me. I live in either/or situations. Trying to work on that, it is not elegant and does not suit my age. It does come in handy while not drinking or saying goodbye to people who are bad for me; snip, there goes the umbilical cord. Actually I am using a few rather nasty character treats to cut the booze connection. Hmmm, peculiar.

Right now I am understanding the blocks as such: I cannot moderate. 🙂 And my body can’t work with sugar very well which is called hypoglycemia and that is linked to getting addicted to alcohol / is linked to drinking for a long time, not sure yet which or maybe both.

Well, that was a long post and 3 to 5 subjects in one again. If you made it this far I thank you. Have a nice new week!

Happy that I quit and proud of it.

Slowly connecting

Had a dream last night, it was all important but I forgot. I really need to make the headboard to the bed so I can sit up and write without leaving the bed and forgetting the dream. One thing I did remember though is that in the dream people and I spoke. They were not doing what I wanted yet but. There was interaction other than despise and dislike or plain disinterest. New! And the people in the dream where not all of the same opinion – normally that would be; against me. 😦 New!

I read up on self-destruction and self-hate the other day. And I have been wondering; if I feel my way through the world, I don’t know anybody that actually likes him/herself. It is a big thing in the sober blog world too, although I have not yet seen posts that actually have it as a subjects. There are sentences here, a sentence there.

I might know maybe 3 people, but these are people who have tons of people knowledge and skills. But I am not socially in contact with those so I don’t know their private lives. I would be guessing that my actual world is a little skewed and that I make a selection of people to socialize with. And.. that I would not react well to people who like themselves. Sorry world! 😦  Or is it one of these Love Hate Knowlegde things where you, either hate yourself, love yourself and then as you proceed come to know yourself and not specifically ‘love’ or ‘hate’. Dunno.

Voice in my head: Feeling, it is ok to love. Loving is part of being human.

It feels like, no, it used to feel like something I was not allowed to do because ‘When I hate myself, at least I am doing something good.’ Now things have changed, I quit drinking, I am happy and proud of it. Loving me is possible.

Thinking, remembering, feeling the meeting with my divine spark again. Years ago I did a few ayahuasca ceremony because I felt dead after my mother had died. Like a big part of me had gone with her. It felt like every cell of my body wast totally lost. Disintegrating.

My inner voice introduced me to my ‘divine spark’. It was beautiful. It was overwhelmingly beautiful. It did take hours of internal work before I could believe it and look at it and trust myself and the world that it was within me, and every person, animal and plant for that matter. Ayahuasca ceremonies are a good thing, it is like a year of therapy in one session. (Sorry to the reader I think I do not have to say sorry to about this… 🙂 ). But the work is to put the experience back into the real world. It’s nice to be all happy and loving when stoned. But that’s not the point. Putting it back into attitude, intentions and behaviour is the point.

Which of course I did not, I returned to drinking within I believe 2 weeks after. But I knew what to head for. And that’s good. And about a year ago, in a session with my therapist I found it back, without the ayahuasca. And the last days, ever so now and then, when writing, or when reading on the balcony the experience returns. Happy now. 🙂

Happy that I quit. Proud of it. Content with the organic process that followed quitting.

The trunk of the tree where the magic happens

New books are in. Bummer, just when I wanted to start doing things….. 😀

I got:

Seven weeks to sobriety – the proven program to fight alcoholism through nutrition. From Joan Larson. Hoping to find an answer to why I don’t have cravings while most other bloggers that I know do have these. Also they promise to repair the brain part that causes addiction. I am very, very curious. I think there might be some truth in a physical cause of addiction because e.g. the book of Nakken describes my addiction correctly word for word. I am wondering, how can this process be the same in everybody if there is not a physical cause (too)? Very curious.

And I do wonder, if I believe what she says, would I start drinking again and just eat healthy? No, but I’d love to try the recipe with a drinker that does not think he should stop. That would not be blind of course but still. Or, if possible, try it in an elderly home and see the effects. Or reverse the recipe, sell it to bars and get rich.

The postman also brought: Food of the Gods – the search for the original tree of knowledge, a radical history of plants, drugs and human evolution’ by Terence McKenna. It is about altered states of consciousness and our fascination for it. Also it speaks of a tree of knowledge -that I must Google-  and I once had a dream of a immensely large tree that was my life, my history, my family and I flew around it and through it and really wanted to be close to the trunk but I could not because there were 50 or more empty liquor bottles laying at the ground around the stem. They were keeping me from reaching the trunk of the tree where the family, the tribe, the magic, transformation, love, wisdom, understanding, peace, ‘the universe and all’ was.

Somebody I know said: it tells you that you need to quit drinking if you want to get there. I did believe that, but I did not want to. I explained it away in my head saying ‘I don’t drink liquor, I only drink beer, these bottles are not my bottles so the message is not for me.’ This must have been about 15 to 13 years ago. Should I draw up the tag ‘denial’? I could have done that before but I was in denial about the denial.

Using recovery to ‘not live’

I thought I was going to be perfect (yes perfect, not ‘just’ normal) if I stopped drinking. Works out some traits are rather stubborn, like procrastinating. Bleah!!! There is this taste of nothingness in my mouth, like my senses are bored. I guess I am because I did nothing AND still haven’t worked out my dream of last night. Apart from it probably being wysywyg, like, nothing more than a show of how I do stuff, how I react, respond in normal life when there is mayhem. So I’m gonna give it another try. They say reading a dream is a real art… It could be, I don’t know, and I don’t pretend to practise it, I just take from a dream what it tells me.

Dreamed that I got in the old Volvo of my parents, leaving for an appointment in Belgium where I absolutely did not want to go.

I have a business connection in Belgium and indeed I do not want to go there now. I have started this new business in consumer goods a few years ago. Blew a lot of money on it and, as I know by now, it is hard to be successful when drinking like a fish. So this could be the meaning of Belgium. There is another story to Belgium. Our family went on a family visit in Belgium when I was about 3-4 years old. My brother and I slept in a caravan way back in the garden. One night we woke up seeing (it was summer and light) a gloved hand feel along the edges of a window and seconds later somebody tried to open the door. God that was frightening. I screamed my head off. Parent searched the woods, nothing was found. There’s another nasty story attached to Belgium, one that really, really makes me not wanting to go there. Not sure what Belgium means, not sure if I want it to become clear.

The car was stuffed with dirt, rubbish, empty cups and all.

That is very strange, my parents would never leave a car like that. It might refer to my idea of my life or maybe how I feel about my parents setting me up for my life. I do blame them for not taking their responsibilities. What do I gain by that? I use it as an excuse to be easy on myself. It has nothing to do with compassion towards me. So, point 1 to work on.

And it was weird; the steering gear and the break etc were at the passenger side where I was.

I have concluded that the car is my life and hahahaha, I am in the passengers seat. How typical. That’s about true on how I have taken up the responsibilities of my life. And then life magically ‘tricked me’ and made me responsible by actually giving me a wheel and all the rest. Point 2 on the list.

And suddenly the car started driving by itself, backwards.

That’s what happens if you don’t take life into your own hands; life happens. We have this saying and it translates into: Standing still is going backwards. It is very possible that my dream brain actually works sayings like this into a dream. It has done so before. It IS how I feel about the years that I drank. Eh…. That will be about 30 of the 44… How to deal with that? How to deal with the thought that I have thrown a good deal of my life away? Some days I feel really guilty. Towards whom? Towards people that care about me and that I have lied to about ‘not feeling well’. Towards the Universe because we are all supposed to do (SPECIAL!!!) things with our lives. Toward myself, the potential and the years that I threw away. And sometimes I am just happy that I quit and see how everything I am, everything that happened, everything I did has brought me to the point where I got addicted but also quit. Several issues for the list.

It was very foggy outside and the windows were fogged up so I could not see anything apart from 2 small windows next to the mirrors.

Foggy outside… Not sure how that translates. The fog can refer to my newly found insight that this whole Western world is a world of addiction to alcohol. It is everywhere, it is amazing! I used to see that there was something wrong when I was say 11. My uncle would visit and drink 8 glasses in an afternoon and still drive home. I’ld go like: ‘If you kill one of my friends I never want to see you again!’ This of course was hushed down by my parents and laughed at by my uncle. Cause that’s how all the hooked people roll; in fog. Missed my calling, should be preaching. 😀

Trap 37: taking this extreme stance against alcohol is a good thing but I should not use it as an easy way to go through the middle of the emotional scale where the knowledge is. I should keep the firmness but loose the rigidity. Trap 38: don’t preach, it is just not elegant.

But mostly I feel that the fog explains my current status because even though I don’t drink, I still don’t feel that I have my brainpowers back. I am guessing that is because I have isolated myself and I am not using my brain very much, apart from studying how to quit and stay quit.

Actually I am doing exactly what I should not be doing and covering that up with ‘Oooooh, I am recovering, this needs time because it is the most important thing I can do in my life.’ Yes it is, but I’m using recovery to do exactly what I did before: not living.

Starting to think that I have difficulty asking for help. 😀 Would that be pride of not wanting to ask? Or the idea that it would be humiliating to ask for help? Or just a skill that I have never been taught because nobody I know does asks for help. Arrogance to think that I can solve everything myself? Yep said miss: I do everything better because I am special, don’t need help. Sigh.

My head is still sort of foggy but my hands actually stopped shaking after 6 days or so, but the ‘A4 paper test’ still shows a tiny little bit of shaking. I am surprised because I expected it to take weeks. My hands are still coloured red though. Studying online now to find a diet that cleanses the liver and reduces oestrogen levels so the redness will go away faster.

About the 2 small windows that were clear: I can actually remember ‘just making that up’ in the dream otherwise, otherwise, otherwise I would have been confronted with my helplessness. Ghegheghe, the power of the addiction even forcing my dreams. I am actually proud that I did that, which I guess is not according to that book that I don’t have.

Why would I be proud of this while I know it is another sign of how much my fear of being powerless has grown into my intentions and actions? Because I specifically like the part of me that can do this kind of stuff. It makes me feel special (gosh!). It makes me feel powerful. It makes me feel like wearing beautiful underwear; nobody has a clue but I know it’s there. So a thing to differentiate me from the rest of the world, an identity thing, secret, a bit strange (never normal, god forbid), a thing to make me secretly feel better than the rest of the world. The rest of the world, not my brother, not my friend, not my ex-class mates, no the rest of the world. What would I do if I met someone that could do something ‘more special’? I would be jealous. Ha! Now I know why I am hardly ever jealous, that would make me admit that somebody else has something better. Ghegheghe. Sigh and double sigh.

There are quite a few anti-social aspects to me, analysing all of this and noting down these findings as inelegant as they are is one of them. However I pride myself that I can and I do think that I am honest with myself. Do you? I am curious where other people see where I am lying to myself or the addict is talking while I don’t know it. Ha! And I’m not going to the AA because they might actually tell me and get me of my high horse… Grrrrrr, building my own cage over and over again.

I am pretty convinced that ‘everybody’ has these tiny and big character issues. I try not to be ashamed about it, that will twist my logic and feelings. Shame, guilt and ethics never lead to good results when trying to find stuff out, which is my reasoning. The other part of the reason is that I want people to feel uncomfortable with my what I pride myself with is my honest self evaluation. Want to shame people with lying their daily polite lies to me, tricksy little hobbitses.

And…..I’ve had enough of me for today. Guess you didn’t even get to this sentence. I prefer a bit of Masterchef right now.