Finding hope in a bottle – but differently

Ok, the thought for after dinner was to select some Bach remedies on finding hope. Bach remedies are natural remedies which influence the emotional state of a person. I always benefit from them greatly but when I go down into a pit I have issues selecting them because I don’t feel worth taking care of me. And I am always too late. I have to stand with my back against to wall to actually start taking care of me.

This is a chart of the traditional English Bach Remedies. Several people around the world have developed their own sets, like the Californian remedies. These are keywords, online or in books you can find more detailed info.

I was not sure how to select what I am looking for but I started crying at Gorse, Olive, Star of Bethlehem, Sweet Chestnut and Wild Oat. So I guess that makes it clear.

Adding Cherry Plum and Rock Rose to soften the blow a bit.Β  Even though it is dangerous to take Cherry Plum when without professional help. I think I have the worst behind me so I guess I am safe.

With homeopathy and Bach remedies there can be the danger of extreme aggravation when the energetic system is awakened by the medicine. I have a pretty reactive system so when I take a remedy against ‘irrational fears’ e.g. I will spend 2 days fearing the whole CIA, KGB, NSA and Facebook are on my case and that the remedy is actually pro-irrational fears and that this is done to me by purpose bla bla bla bla bla. At day 3 I do not worry anymore and can not even believe I ever came up with a thought like that.

Theoretically Wild Oat would be something for when I am ready to look for work again, not for emergencies, but the word ‘alienated’ sticks with me. My brother was killed in the womb by a chemical process which in plain English would be called ‘alienating’ and my first name is based on a noun derived from the verb ‘alienating’. Yeah. I am not surprised I have difficulty landing in this world and uphold a typical view of its inhabitants :-D. Wild Oat, to get my feet back on the ground?

Ok, the above list is quite long, I prefer taking 2 or 3 remedies at the time.

Agrimony is good for anybody with an addictive personality. Not taking that now though because I am opening up by myself and I don’t want to mess with that process currently. Not sure why, all of a sudden for the one process I think I need Bach remedy help and for the other I find it ‘messing’. Which… might strenghten the thought that one can not medicate oneself. πŸ˜‰ You are welcome to give it a try btw. I am curious to learn what you think.

Willow gave the sensation of a cold, bitter lightning through my body. Resentment is certainly something to look at. Specifically because somewhere in my mind there is this cold voice saying: “They deserve my hatred.” (yikes!!) But now is not the time. Or? No. Not now.

I would assume anybody reading this would want to give me Honeysuckle. I am not taking this because it is about romantisizing the past. I thought I did not do that. Until I just read an online addition from Edward Bach: “They do not expect further happiness such as they have had.” which would be true for the womb-dream I have. No greater happiness than being in the womb with somebody who is somebody else, but me. Never alone, experiencing everything without speaking. I like you because you are me – you like me because I am you. Food for analyses. We might have had Narcissus for breakfast. Not sure.

We are us,
You are us,
I am us,
We are you!
We are me!
I am you,
You are me.

You died.

It is called the dream of the womb. Which then turned into the hell of the womb. I realise that I long back to that dream and I will never, as long as I live, experience the intensity, the wholeness of that contact again. Hole in the soul.

I am happy that I quit. πŸ™‚ I assume, know, the mess would be bigger if I had not. Again. I would not be alive. In the last few weeks I have somehow found that I am worth saving. Or learned to not give a shit about others opinion of me anymore, maybe. That would take some pressure off too. Not sure. I am still scared, what if I save myself and fall back in the pit? I am scared but I am going to try anyway. I think I can do this. I mean, I quit drinking and I thought I could not do that. I started with writing down what I was scared of and did not know. And then I started looking for answers. I can do that again. I have got plenty of time. :-/ Well, The Universe gave us all we needed for Life, so let’s see what tools I have and can apply.

Ok, I am happy that I quit. Gonna make my remedy mix now. 1 Or 2 drops of each in a bottle of a liter water. Then poor half a glass and fill up with water again.

Bach remedies are 40% alcohol I believe. So the concoction can still smell like alcohol but somehow it does not hinder me. I have these remedies stored in the brain box ‘medicine’ and that keeps me from linking this smell to drinking. It has never been in the brain box ‘drink’. Funny side note: there is a lemonade I can not drink because I used to drink it when trying to moderate. And I projected my drinking thoughts on it. So now it feels like drinking alcohol when I smell it. :-D. The mind is strange.

Wishing you a good sober day / evening. Thanks for reading.

xx, Feeling

Looking for Hope

After my visit to the government doctor I visited my GP. We worked out that I would get help. Up till then I had thought along the same lines as when being addicted to drinking: if I just do this and that, all will be well. This and that would be ‘moderate’ when I was drinking. Currently it would be ‘wake up on time, shower, dress, eat well, excercise, socialize, go to be early’. And then I found it did not work anymore.

Not all was not well. That night I went into a psychotic episode force 5 on a 10 point scale. That was extremely scary. I had to pull everything together not to lose my mind. I realised that my fear of losing my mind put extra pressure on whatever it was that was happening. So with what was left I deliberately looked through my toolbox. I found: breath, relax, drink water, pat the cat and EFT and EMDR. I did not have the energy for EFT but I did move my eyeballs from left to right and back repeatedly. In only seconds I relaxed, yawned and found a little footing. WONDERFUL. It helped me through the next half hour and I fell asleep. Sleeping is better. Next days I keep on moving my eyeballs left and right and I can literally feel the pressure receding. Immediately. Wonderful. πŸ™‚ Thank you Louise and all others who are involved for pointing me at this methode. πŸ™‚

I also found: call somebody. I can not remember why I dismissed that. Possibly because it was night. Most likely because I do not want people to think I have gone over the edge.

I just read my former post again. Sound quite crazy, difficult to read.Β  Things got worse. Some of you might have read the post where I spoke about the abuse issues I encountered in New Zealand. My niece just moved over there. She is 17 years old. She has not even been there a full month I believe and she has been forcefully kissed against her will by a guy at a party. Photo’s were made too and used against her when she replied in a chat that she did not like it. This is the same niece I wanted to have a talk with about safety and well, the rape culture before she went to NZ, her mother ‘forbade’ that. Same mother and father (my brother) who laughed at her and the situation when she reported guys had put a wager on who ‘got her first’. She is lesbian but not out of the closet in NZ.

Not sure how but I sensed something was off, I don’t know, the photos of outings just looked too glamorous but her personality was not filling up the gap between her and the glamour. I started chatting. It took me 2 hours of chatting with her before she finally came clear on what had happened and she still is too ashamed and traumatized to give the details.

She does not want me to inform her parents. I haggled a deal with her that she connects with a teacher at school the moment she feels scared. Also that she will tell the counsellor of the exchange organisation whom she meets this week.

I know this is not about me but at some point I was wondering: how the hell am I to stay sane during this? This theme in my life where I sense and see danger and nobody listens and bad things happen. Even after they happen people laugh and traumatized persons get dissed. It is, well, very unpleasant. Traumatizing in itself. Eyes left, right, left, right, left. Breathe….. yawn. I yawn within 10 times left and right. πŸ™‚ Not sure what that is about. Guess I am tired.

And I am sick and tired of things like these pushing me towards the edge. There must be another way of dealing with this.

I am grateful that I have this 6th sense where I can literally feel around the world that a person I know is in trouble. I am grateful that I have enough knowledge of speaking with traumatized people to be able to hold some space for her. I am absolutely pissed that she has to go through this. I am absolutely pissed that I have to go through this. I am absolutely pissed at this sick sick world.

Ok. Thanks for reading that :-).

So…. I’m looking for therapists. I’m thinking I would like to start with a therapist on vanishing twin syndrome. There are several around by now but many are ‘far’ away. I am scared to travel currently. I guess I could speak with friends and ask them to go with me. Also…. if this is so intense, maybe I should wait till I am a little more stable. But then again… will I get stable if I do not address the main issue.

Maybe the main issue is not having hope left. I was thinking about this. Can’t believe the jokes the Universe plays on me because I IMMEDIATELY got a FB message on ‘Hope in these dark Trump times’. πŸ™‚ It was good. πŸ™‚

Ok. If the main issue is not having any hope left, I have Bach remedies on the subject of Hope in my toolbox. I keep on not wanting to do the work to get me healthy and back because I am SO SICK of falling back in this dark pit. The loneliness. The despair. The pain of seeing how things are run in this world. Again and again walking into people and situations which press my buttons. Not being able to deal with that. The sensitivity which sometimes feels like I am walking around without skin and everybody can look into my soul. Hahaha, and if they don’t they can read this blog ;-). Ghegheghe…. eh…

Ok, I need to step up my game. I have found parts of self-love where I now believe I do matter. In the process of allowing me to live, I also decided that I do not suck – the whole world sucks. This is not a personal thing, it is ‘just’ governments, multinationals like Monsanto and Shell, environmental polluters, rapists etc.) I guess in time this will balance out. Now I ‘just’ (?) do not have the energy anymore and I am scared for relapsing into where I am now. Hmmm…. I am scared to relapse so I stay still down in the pit. Hmmm…. food for thought.

I put the word ‘just’ between quotes because I have an issue with that word. I noticed it is used by me and others to quickly skip past something which is can/must/should/whatever be mentioned. It is a word to help hide stuff. Not sure what I am hiding. My justs are never just. Which is a very funny sentence. A scary one. I’m leaving it in here. Future will tell what it means. Feels like there is something lying its ass off here and I can’t see it. πŸ˜€ OMG, well, future will tell. Ok, future is here, it is in the paragraph already, I started off with it; whenever I want to use ‘just’ I skip feelings, that is unjust about it. My justs are never just.

Ok, cooking time and after that tea time and looking up Bach remedies on hope. πŸ™‚

Thank you for reading. I do realise that I unload on this page and it is not elegant. I can totally understand when this is too much for people. I would wish to carry messages of ‘hope’ and baking cakes but that is not the flavour of the dish called ‘Feeling’. :-/ I wish it were different.

I am happy that I quit. I, haha, would be such a mess if I had not. πŸ˜€ Yeah, realising that things could be way worse. πŸ™‚ Realising that is good.

Wishing you a nice sober evening/day.

xx, Feeling

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

The land of no self-hate – Episode 9

Today I continued reading the book and re-read the part which upset me earlier. I found that I was ‘on track’ with feeling into the matter and ‘becoming one with the message’ when the book said something about ‘I could not make a decision if I wanted A or B.’ and that is where I stepped of the track. Not sure how other people experience book reading but I like to, as I said, become one with the message; breathe in the meaning, the feeling of the text. And then when there is something that blocks inside I can feel it in my body, it is like the cloud of energy which is normally a stream, then suddenly does not want to pass through my stomach, or into my right leg. Or my throat gets all tense. That’s when I know something is up and I have to slow down and pay attention. How DO other people do that?

This one I missed because ‘I was in the right’; not being able to make a decision is stupid. Yup, sorry to the world. It is so again, funny in a not funny way, how we (i) think that having opinions on something is important, of essential to living, while actually it keeps me away from exploring and perceiving what actually is out there.

It is like quitting drinking. I was all anxious about ‘will I miss it?’ and ‘I am going to fail sooooooo badly’ that I could not continue. Then I realised that when I think I will fail, I will automatically diminish all the options in which I do not. I will not believe those. My energy will be focussed on fearing that I will fail so I will be watching out extra for signs that prove I will fail. And while doing so I am already one foot into the trap of alcohol because I am not focussing on being happy that I quit, I am focussing on that failing. And as you know with driving a car through a narrow street: don’t look at the parked cars or you will steer into them, look at the road and the open space. Or:

energy flows

I am not one of those positivity persons (ooh, gosh, you noticed?!) but yes, it can be wise to pay attention to what you fear, expect and hope. Those 3 are fundamental and sometimes detrimental in how things play out.

Ooh, the hug-buddy has decided he misses me so badly and he physically deteriorates so quickly that he needs to be hugged. By me that is. My inner floozy said yes. To tea. Not sure about the hugging and not at all sure about the sexy hugging. This is new territory for me and I find that I am not dealing well. I feel this is a new addiction. Maybe I should get a book…. πŸ˜€

Ooh, on that topic: yesterday I deleted a sentence in my writing which I did not want to have true. Yup. Sorry :-(. I was upset and my reaction was to think that I should read something about a specific topic, something on addiction of the society by A. Schaef. Most interesting. I had a title in mind and went looking for it on Amazon, and then on Dutch shops. But I deleted the literal sentence ‘I need to buy a book’ from my post. Low and behold: here comes Wendy and she comments: “I need to buy a book.”. The truth is out there and it will smack you in the face, shit on your porch or be way nicer and drop by with the Wendy express service. πŸ™‚ <3. I deleted the sentence because lately I literally go buy books when I am upset. Splitting up with the hug-buddy cost me 53 Euro on books. I do have the money but it is not a good idea to spend that kind of money if I do not know where next months’ money will be coming from. I did not want to have that true. I deleted the sentence and told myself that it ‘would confuse you to have so many subjects in one post’. Same shit, different day. THANK GOD it is books and not booze.

Ok, where did I trail off? Aah, yeah, opinions blocking experiences. So I found that I ridiculed the indecisiveness of the woman in the book and that put me on the trail of hate and self-hate. I am not able to be indecisive. In my mind indecisiveness is for sissies who will not survive this life. “Make up your mind! I haven’t got all day! If you don’t make up your mind right now you are not getting anything at all! And no! No whining! Ok! You don’t want anything?! Then we go. Nope, you did not decide from which I conclude that you do not want anything.” WHOAH! And the connection to survival is amazing too ‘they will not survive this life’. Well, we all leave here in a coffin. Guessing this is strongly related to the biblical story of the 6 stupid maiden and the 6 wise maiden. Guess it is called differently, and maybe they were 12 and 12. πŸ™‚ Our noses were rubbed in this story, combined with ‘guilty ignorance’. “There is no such thing as ‘I did not know!’ YOU SHOULD HAVE KNOWN!!” And that people, is how you make kids who struggle with perfection. :-/

All this darkness stored in one body. I don’t want that anymore. Everything I do not uncover, bring into the light, will live in the darkness in me and it will fester and I will spread it unconsciously. That is how projecting, transference works. 😦

I picked up the ‘There is nothing wrong with you.’ book again and got to read another 1,5 page untill I got stuck in me again. Not sure what that was about. I was fed up with getting stuck so I Netflixed it all away.

I am grateful that I have given myself the opportunity to see life from a not drinking standpoint. Lately I am confronted with so much of my addictive behaviour like chocolating, Netflixing and self-hating behaviour that I do not feel ‘sober’. I have a problem with calling myself sober. Feels like I am lying. This one is difficult to bear because the addict within pops up saying: “Well, if you do not call yourself sober, you might as well drink.” I have a persistent, astute, sharp-eyed addict within who is too smart for my own good. But then again, if he were any less cunning and in my face, I would have underestimated him. Hmm… funny, creating my own matching demon and then wrestling it.Β  Wonder what a psychiatrist would say about that. πŸ˜€

I am however grateful that I quit drinking. And also that the Dutch government gives me the possibility on being at home on sick-leave. I have not heard from them. That is ok for me because I am not ready to get out there again. I have the feeling I need to undo myself of some more onionrings or I will walk into the same shit again.

I wish you a nice sober experience of life.

xx, Feeling

The land of no self-hate, episode 2

Still reading ‘There is nothing wrong with you‘ from Cheri Huber. Cheri writes about self-hate and the dynamics of this. As with other books, I read, and at the same time I heighten the awareness of my thoughts and discernible emotions, tension, movement, temperature in and around my body. Good books change stuff at cell level. For me this is a good book. ❀

Not sure if this sounds like hocus pocus but, you know: when you consciously inhale and feel your body expanding and when you exhale it is ‘inpanding’? Motions like that happen unconsciously within my body and in the near surroundings, say ‘aura’ around me. When reading there are big shifts like a lot of tension in my throat, so much I have a throat ache. Or my throat relaxing. But also subtler once like my jaw clenching and unclenching, my breath stopping and releasing, lips tightening, nostrils opening, chest freezing, heart expanding and contracting. It is a wonderful trip of awareness and mindful being which can finally happen. Sometimes there is an awareness of the micro-expressions. I really, really like that because all these e-motions and tension and release inform me of stuff I was formerly not aware off. If my throat tightens, my heart rate speeds up, my chest freezes I know something in me is not liking what I read, experience, remember. And with that, I can practise letting to within, breathe through new thoughts while gently keeping them in my awareness. Does this make any sense?

How this came about? I was in a dark place an a long distance energy healer picked up on that. She somehow helped me accept that I have a right to exist. That closed a backdoor to self-hate, all of a sudden I was standing back against the wall and all the disliking my life and myself suddenly had no way out. It all fell down on me. That caused an enormous crisis in which Ainsobriety came up with the above mentioned book. Teal Swan came with her video on the self-hatred. Things start to fall into place.

It is good. πŸ™‚ I am happy, sometimes. At peace, sometimes and in extacy sometimes. Literally stoned. Guess one would call it bliss if there is no drug involved. Hmmm… πŸ˜€ Scared also, sometimes. As other addictions, self-hate is self-destructive behaviour I have because I somehow think it is good for me to hate me. “When I drink, I do not feel what is wrong with me.” and when I hate myself “at least I do something well.”.

Two functions of self-hate I am experiencing currently:

Self-hate gives structure to me. When I sit here, read the book, let go of hate, untangle, unfold, open up, relax, breathe, I become boundless. Sometimes that gives a feeling of extacy. Endless white light flooding through me; connecting with the earth, connecting with the heavens. FINALLY PEACE! And then the clamping happens and sometimes something this something twists and sends me off into what feels as I would imagine a psychoses feels. Dangerous land, not to be threaded lightly.

Also, self-hate keeps me from being responsible. It brings out my poor me, or is brought out by my poor me underdog. 😦 Reading the book, again, sometimes, while working through the process of letting go of thoughts about myself relieves me of the negative energy which holds me down. I also realise that most, 99.999999% of the thoughts I have about me are negative. So, letting go of thoughts, letting go of opinions is the thing. Which reminds me of my first Ayahuasca trip which opened up with a statement from the Ayahuasca spirit saying “All these opinions… all these opinions…. there is no need.”

As always; Ayahuasca can show you the way, it can not do the work for you/me.

Funny side effect: I eat less since reading this book. Things just don’t look and feel as attractive anymore.

So, all in all I switch from heaven into hell and back again and again and again. While slowly learning where, how and when these switches happen. It is a dangerous place to be because I sometimes realise that I am at the brink of insanity and total self-destruction, but also a rewarding place because I now learn to look into the darkness and see that it is me.

notreacanreachtoheaven

Insanity feels like clamping to the darkness while facing the light. Where letting go means confrontation with endlessness, boundless existence. Like watching the stars somewhere far away from nature. That feeling of immensity and smallness combined. And then switching between them several times. That is only do-able for me, when I let go of clamping, hanging onto opinions. Hmmm, guess people might call that ego. If you (i!) don’t let go then it becomes very uncomfortable to feel and exist. And then, when I am there and add fear to that I go into insanity.Β  Well, there is a need to let go. πŸ™‚

And you know, I am learning all this, and for the first time I notice jealousy. I am willing to admit that I notice jealousy. I read the book and it has EVERYTHING I want (clinging), and then I become jealous because somebody ‘knew it before me and I did not know it’. Jealousy is somebody having something which is of vital importance to one and being afraid to lose it. Yup. Check. πŸ˜€

I am also jealous because so many people know what they need to do with their lives. And I only know that I am where I need to be. Somehow I trust that something will come on my path once these issues have worked itself out but still… I want things to be easy. Well, easier. At which point I still hear the Bookstore man saying: “Are you sure?”.

A new thought pops up: maybe my need for drama is a way of expressing the destruction within me. People tend to, try to make the outside world as their inside world.

Enough for today.

I wish you nice sober day. I am happy that I quit. Trying something else now: I am grateful that I quit drinking. Happy is more fleeting and assumes upbeat dopaminelike emotions. Grateful is more serotonin, long-lasting, more quit. And every time I say I am grateful or happy about quitting the reality of not knowing what TF I want or need to do with my life pops up. And then I need to trust again. Or maybe I am dissociating there. We shall see.

Ok, I am grateful that I quit. I hope you are grateful too. Being grateful makes it so much easier to be sober. Also, for those in doubt: it is so much more easy to not drink after one has quit than it is to start all over again.

xx, Feeling

Self-rape in practice – Stormy Daniels

A few posts ago I wrote about self-rape, a word I made up for me to describe unwanted sexual acts I have performed and were performed on me because I did not have the guts to say no. I am not referring to situations where saying “No” would have had bad or worst consequences; there are a lot of sick men who are enticed by some ‘struggling’. I am talking about situations where a “No” would have not gone down well, but it would have been listened to without consequences. I, for me, call having not-voluntary sex when there could have been a no sex ‘self-rape’. It is not that I wanted it, but in me the option to say no was first taken away, and then when it partially grew back, it went unpractised. Still not good at it now but I want to become good at it. πŸ™‚

I am in a process of uncovering layers and layers of old behaviour and memories in the hope to undo damage and to un-addict. I am aware that those who are in a different place/situation with this subject might have different opinions on this. But for me this is what it is right now. This is how I perceive it now.

It is very unfortunate that my childhood spirit was already broken before I could even make up my adult mind on what and how when it came to sex. At age 48 I still often wonder about my sexual orientation, not sure if I really like women physically, intellectually and emotionally or sometimes dislike men because of the memories. And so I walked a path of self-destruction which has been and is painful. These days I start to understand how far-reaching my self-destructive acts where and are. But watching the Stormy Daniels 60 minutes interview I realised I am not the only one. The part which worries me most starts at 1:40 and ends at 3:24.

In the transcript below I made the worrying parts in a bold lettering – if WP catches on to that in the quote mode…. Self-hate, self-destruction, self-rape speaking loudly – in my ears. She passes it off as a business deal, but how split does a person have to be in order to do this?Β  How do you perceive this?

Stormy Daniels describes her alleged affair with Donald Trump

Anderson Cooper: You had dinner in the room?

Stormy Daniels: Yes.

Anderson Cooper: What happened next?

Stormy Daniels: I asked him if I could use his restroom and he said, “Yes, you know, it’s through those– through the bedroom, you’ll see it.” So I– I excused myself and I went to the– the restroom. You know, I was in there for a little bit and came out and he was sitting, you know, on the edge of the bed when I walked out, perched.

Anderson Cooper: And when you saw that, what went through your mind?

Stormy Daniels: I realized exactly what I’d gotten myself into. And I was like, “Ugh, here we go.” (LAUGH) And I just felt like maybe– (LAUGH) it was sort of– I had it coming for making a bad decision for going to someone’s room alone and I just heard the voice in my head, “well, you put yourself in a bad situation and bad things happen, so you deserve this.”

Anderson Cooper: And you had sex with him.

Stormy Daniels: Yes.

Anderson Cooper: You were 27, he was 60. Were you physically attracted to him?

Stormy Daniels: No.

Anderson Cooper: Not at all?

Stormy Daniels: No.

Anderson Cooper: Did you want to have sex with him?

Stormy Daniels: No. But I didn’t– I didn’t say no. I’m not a victim, I’m not–

Anderson Cooper: It was entirely consensual.

Stormy Daniels: Oh, yes, yes.

Anderson Cooper: You work in an industry where condom use is– is an issue. Did– did he use a condom?

Stormy Daniels: No.

Anderson Cooper: Did you ask him to?

Stormy Daniels: No. I honestly didn’t say anything.

Anderson Cooper: After you had sex, what happened?

Stormy Daniels: He said that it was great, he had– a great evening, and it was nothing like he expected, that I really surprised him, that a lotta people must underestimate me– that he hoped that I would be willing to see him again and that we would discuss the things we had talked about earlier in the evening.

Anderson Cooper: Being on The Apprentice.

Stormy Daniels: Right.

Stormy Daniels: Β I thought of it as a business deal.

Full interview and transcript here.

Am I the only one who finds this behaviour sad, worrysome, self-destructive? And, for another thing: this is not something that needs to be advocated as a reason to have sex AND not something to be advocated as consensual.Β  ‘Not wanting to but feeling not being able to get out of it’ does NOT equal consent. It does not equal rape either according to the law. Energetically I think she violates her and his integrity.

Let me conclude that both people were not where I think it is healthy to be. She having sex with a guy she does not want, he not even aware or not caring that he is sharing something not given in joy. In Trumps words: “Sad”. :-/

I am happy that I quit.

Wishing you a wonderful sober day with many good sober thoughts and haha, maybe a serenity prayer. πŸ˜‰ I could use some thorough insight in that now for both posting on somebodye elses sex-life and for not doing what I should be doing in the meantime. So here:

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
Courage to change the things I can,
And wisdom to know the difference.