Dying itself is not the problem – sort-of-ish

Afbeeldingsresultaat voor dead flowers

I was reading and commenting on a post of Renovatio06 and went into experiencing the death of my womb brother again. I copied part of my comment to his post here and added some.

I must really improve my phsysical health because at moments like this my heart feels like it is exploding. Pumping like crazy. Can’t breathe, can not inhale actually. Not sure what that means. My lungs are full because I do not exhale. Guess it is part of the experience in the womb. Well, anyway, staying with it did give me an insight which I thought I would share: Dying itself is not the problem, though overwhelmingly BIG as an experience it is within the human spiritual domain. The pain comes with the resistance and the longing.

Which, yeah, everybody tells you that, but telling and knowing is, at least in my life, not the same as realising it at cell level.

Comment to Renovatio06: Not sure if you heard of this, but thought I would drop by and leave a comment. I have not gone through the full text of your link but I am familiar (ish) with Grof’s work op BPM’s, having had several days course on the subject, several holotropic breathing experiences and some ayahuasca trips. The darkest memory I have of prenatal trauma is that of my twin brother dying in the womb. That brought me right into hell. I had no knowledge of vanishing twin syndrome (VTS) or the effects of it at that time in my life. Based on a several second spontaneous experience which I am sure was a re-living of what had happened before I wrote down 10 points which I realised were ‘odd’ about me and had been shaped in that experience. When reading my first book on VTS I found that those 10 were either chapter subjects or otherwise important paragraphs in the text itself. It was like a homecoming – into a hell of enormous loss and sadness that is, but it was.

10 Out of a 100 pregnancies start as a multiple, only 1 out of 100 is born multiple, so 1 out of about 10 people have lost what I call ‘half of myself’ before they were born. A fetus, a baby is no less human than a child which can not bike yet, or a teenager without a drivers license, or an adult without a 50 inch colour TV (Edit: although advertised and understood by many as such: being able to do things, or have things, does NOT make a person more of a person – conciousness already exists within when life kicks in.) A fetus is alive and has consciousness – less developed, not fully expressed, not fully incarnated often, but it is there. Having re-experienced the impact of the death of my twin brother as an adult I can only say that I would assume it to be a ‘good’ base for hellish NDE’s (near death experience). It is my understanding today that dying is part of the human experience which the consciousness understands and is ok with. Logically the biology resists it but it can be integrated when the mind/ego does not interfere too much. Experiencing (not seeing; experiencing, re-living) somebody else die which whom you identify as yourself mixes stuff up big time. Like having Kali over for tea. 😦

Funny idea though, to combine experiences before birth with after death. πŸ™‚ Although, writing about it now I realise the hell was my resistance to him dying. Dying itself is not the problem, though overwhelmingly BIG as an experience it is within the human spiritual domain. The pain comes with the resistance and the longing.

End of comment.

Obviously dying ‘not being the problem’ is something different when haha, experiencing it for real and having the biology kick in. πŸ™‚ Biology on itself does not want to die, it wants to live and procreate. Now the practise for me is to maintain and uphold the status of ‘not clinging’ insight in daily life. Ghegheghe….. guess that will take some practise since we live in a world where clinging, wanting, striving is very much stimulated as a tool to ‘make you happy’. Advertising never tells you that, it actually makes one very unhappy and causes all kinds of spiritual maladies.

I guess that is the same for not drinking and living in itself: it is not the experience of not drinking which ‘hurts’ it is the clinging to what I think I have lost. It is generally not the experience of being real to Life which hurts the worst, it is the clinging to ‘how it should have been’, tryng to have and experience the imagined ideal.

I am grateful that I do not drink alcohol anymore. Experiences like this, however painfull at first bring me insights which, dunno, cool down my system a little? Take out parts of the continous stress my system seems to be in.

I wish you a beautiful sober day / night.

xx, Feeling

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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

Does the ocean say ‘No’ to half of the waves?

First I was drinking and then I quit and felt my way back into life by following the nice feelings in order ‘to become clear’.

Now I am not drinking, clearing up and very happy about it. But I am still procrastinating and to my idea not dealing very well with negativity. Yes, I have unleashed the weird πŸ˜‰ here every now and then. And my contact with the Universe and all things ‘coincidentally good’ has improved a 1000 times – but… I feel there is something I am not doing.

So this video popped up out of nowhere:

It is about procrastinating, (me) wanting to fix people and with that not listening to what is, and alcohol (bonus!). If it does not open, try checking it out on YouTube. I had dismissing procrastinating it as ‘bad’ and ‘needs to go away’ but the video made me realise there is an (imagined) purpose to procrastinating. And the energy that came free from accepting that I procrastinate was BIG. πŸ™‚

Then I realised I follow all the good stuff and get the Universe messages, but in my still developing theory on dis-ease, there is a place for feeling bad as well. My theory starts with: ‘All that is there to be felt is there for a reason and the reason is to guide you (me!) to a good place.’ Which is nice in theory but I am not practising it when it comes to procrastinating. I feel bad about that but don’t act upon that feeling. And realising that developing my intuition, or my higher goal: to get clear – is not only about listening to the nice stuff. And as I lay in my bed, working out how it works that I need to say yes to the dark stuff as well, a friend of mine put this video on Facebook. Surprise! It is on saying yes to the dark stuff as well. Does the ocean say No to half of the waves?

And I am starting to see that if I do not forgive me for having specific difficulty with drinking or procrastinating I will not be able to work on it. And the universe again, started to do its thing and in another 3 steps I stumbled upon a lesson in forgiving :-).

Not sure how it is going to work, but I guess there is a path. And a book I believe? πŸ™‚

That was the nice part of the morning. Memories brought me back to age 12. Procrastinating and not working makes me feel guilty, specifically because people say things like: You have all these brains and don’t do shit with it. Yes, that would be me. :-/ Anger unleashing: But you know what? My brains are my own and I don’t have to fucking live up to your plan of my life! I am NOT going to be a shrink or a doctor!

Primary school in The Netherlands finishes with a big test at age 12, I believe it takes one or two days. I had prepared myself with getting in the zone, I guess I still prayed then and I really worked my ass off to get all the answers right. I scored 99% in the test which meant that only 1% of the 12 year olds in the country that year scored better. I had no clue of that. I just thought there had been a competition and I had scored high, almost a 10 (A+). So I came home and was very, absolutely proud, yearning to hear that I had done well because nobody at school had dared to say something to me. And my fathers first reaction was: ‘Yes, we always thought you had 1 percent missing.’

And everybody laughed and laughed and laughed and then told me to stop crying because I was being silly, should not be so sensitive and should be happy that I had scored 99%. I FUCKING WAS TILL YOU CAME ALONG!! They continued that they did not want to take this score too seriously because I was always such a serious child trying to live up to expectations. Blablabla, that is an excuse that sucks. Just say that you screwed up because you wanted to be funny more than you cared about my feelings and in hindsight saw that this worked out worse than you hoped. That would be an apology.

3 Years later I finally felt that I did live up to expectations and lost interest in school IMMEDIATELY. I had been best of class for 2 years and in the top 3 for the third year. In the 4th grade, age 15, I dropped out. Lost interest, did not want to live up to expectations that were ‘useless anyway’. Could not deal anymore with the stress at home, people drinking and constantly arguing, constantly nagging. Never a normal, nice, adult way of dealing with stuff. Always shouting and arguing. No peace. Ever. Sitting in the living room being utterly tense and afraid for the next fight. Everybody was arguing except my brother. Everybody got argued with, except my brother. Hmm, I guess I came done on my brother. Gave him the shit I felt. 😦 Sorry, brother.

At one moment I started loosing it, I don’t know what I lost, had something to do with control, I started to intervene. Try to fix them. Draw the attention to me by being disrespectful. I’ve been doing that for years. It is only now, today that I can see that my current developments will probably lead me to see that I did not stand a chance. There is no saving people who keep on drinking. No matter how hard I wanted that and no hard I tried.

They did ‘not even’ ‘drink a lot’. My mother drank home-made wine of 14%, 2 – 2,5 glasses of it which, with the size of the glass meant that she drank almost a bottle of 12% wine a day. But her liver was very bad due to the cancer (or the other ways around) so we would notice her behaviour change halfway the first glass and she would get irritated with everything and look for a fight with anybody except my brother, during the second glass.

At that time my father drank 1 liter of beer a day and sometimes, like once every 2 months binged one evening in the weekend. That would lead to extreme arguing in the house and finally I guess social isolation. A person who has Aspergers is not easy to speak with without the booze. With the booze it is like being run over by a freight train. So I drank with him.

Procrastinating, actually saying ‘things are too big and going to quickly, I can not catch up.’. I thought I might as well do the things that have nothing to do with the other things that go too quickly. Or maybe approach it like I did drinking: learn to see where things feel bad and good and take it from there. Or not so much ‘start do stuff’ but ‘stop not doing stuff’. And change the name because I could not quit when I called myself an alcoholic. There is no hope in that word. It carries darkness. I used to be psychologically addicted to alcohol and now I have quit drinking and am dealing with the consequences of not dealing with life while drinking.

I am happy that I quit. These last 3 days have been showing me my yet undocumented dark sides. I met somebody exactly like me. I felt like this extra terrestrial finally meeting one from the universe here on earth. And then I screwed up by insulting him. It did teach me shitloads. I would not have learned what I did if I had not cared. But shit! I need to get a grip on this anger and power stuff because it is fucking destructive. I want to become clear, not swept of my feet by any minor threat to what? Dunno. Happy that I quit though because otherwise I would not have met ‘the other alien’ (ooh, he is the store guy, he is partially blogged about!). Let’s just say that: I am happy that I quit and I am only responsible for what I do and not for how other people are or react to that.

I want / my intentions are to use all that life force to bash through this issue and get a grip on my ego. But that feels like trying to solve the issue with the same brain that created it. Let’s see what life brings. πŸ™‚ Forgiveness. And maybe realising that I still am not all-powerful. These two things mix. Haven’t worked it out yet. Aah, because I do not know how to behave differently because people with power issues tend to look up people with power issues. And people without power issues are wise enough to stay away from people with power issues. I have no example. Well, I guess I am back to vigilance. Not on the drink think now but on the ‘power issue’ thing. We shall see.

I need: don’t know. I hope I learn to let go because this pain and resentment seems to keep me stuck in the past. I think this is the first time in 4,5 months that I have used the words ‘letting go’. So maybe it’s about time. But first the power issue, or maybe they are connected.

New category: I am taking: Schuessler cel salts on ‘letting go’, ‘improving sleep’, ‘high blood pressure’, ‘being overly sensitive in the ‘wrong’ way.’, ‘improving bile production’ (no diarrhea anymore and things start to get healthily smelly again πŸ™‚ – if you cared to know. πŸ˜‰ ). The salt I am taking on ‘feeling attacked easily’ might influence the path that I am walking now on the power issues.

Whatever. I am done writing. Need to get some air so…. third walk to the store. πŸ™‚