Hole in the soul

I want to write but somehow I do not finish a post and when I do I re-read it (NEW) and start changing stuff (NEW) until I get lost and then start a new post. That has been going on for a few weeks now. So I’m trying again. See what comes up.

In short: I have been all over the place since I left my job 2 weeks ago but things are settling down now and my last official working day finished 8 hours ago.

The wife of my boss whispered another ‘you really need to get laid’ in my ear when we parted. And I do not want to go into this feeling again but I need to list it for future reference because I want to inform you and myself that really this is how people are. #Metoo and me telling her 4 times over that I do NOT want her to discuss anything sexual about me did obviously not reach her. So again I leave a workspace not because I want to but because I am not able to deal with the (stupidity of) other people. (Arrogance much?) Guess this needs to change at some point. She also said that she had never in her life met somebody whose personality was so alike that of her husband (my boss) and that it had astounded her again and again: ‘You seem to be the same person, you think and act alike.” He and I differ 3 days in age so I guess there is some proof for horoscopes. πŸ™‚

I took her up on the needing to get laid and I started ‘dating’ one of the workfloor guys. Ghegheghe… there I was thinking it would be easy. Had a sober-first kiss (NEW), had a sober first bra taken off (NEW), the girls fell down (NEW 😦 ) and got a sober first fright like “WHAAAA!!!! Not sure if I am up to do this.” I had a lot of flashback to unhappier sexual activities. Not nice. I was afraid that would happen now when trying to have sober sex and being more aligned with my senses. But I had not thought it would show up so quickly with so little trigger. One hand lustfully groping instead of holding and feeling set off all the alarm bells. Well, well… yes, I had seen it coming. Yes I did not listen to me (he is gorgeous, like drooling from the corner of my mouth gorgeous – when I first saw him I had this surge of ‘I want’ going through me – psychiatrist say you need to quickly run away when that happens but, hey, I do things the hard way…. I am entitled to stupidity so Thou shalst not deny me more stupidity and misery πŸ™‚ ).Β  Lucky me he is as complicated as I am so I guess now we are not fuck-buddies but hug-buddies with a tiny hint of sexy. And that is actually really really nice. πŸ™‚ I just found 2 Tantra books in my cabinet and I’m thinking I should work through these to see if they can help me with this. Letting go is another important possibility.

I notice that I am loud about stuff which is important to me. I do not want to be like that anymore. I miss my more considered self. Not sure why I need to be all out there. I guess it is another state of addiction of not wanting to feel. 😦 I am so tired of living. So tired of being me. When addiction goes untreated things go wrong in a person. I guess that has been happening with me over the last 1,5 year or so. I don’t want to write about it. And it is not all bad, although I am so very tired of, well, yeah, being me. Lately I also noticed that my whole body, my energy system is starting to function again. I can laugh again sometimes, relax, enjoy and joke again. I am cleaning my house, just sorted out a meter of books to sell or give away. I am cooking again. I helped out my friend a few days with his shop. So, I guess that is all good.

This new liveliness might have to do with the homeopathic medicine I am taking. I am still on the medicineΒ  Vernix Caseosa which is (diluted, diluted, diluted!) waxy stuff from a newborn baby. It is meant to create an extra layer around a person. I guess I could do with that. πŸ™‚ And obviously the hug-buddy is of influence on my kundalini. πŸ˜€

The homeopathic medicine does however bring all kinds of things about my vanished twin brother to the surface. So much that I did not want to involve myself with the subject anymore and turned off FB to read a book. Ooh, gosh, this is about twins. Hmm, let’s watch a movie. Aaaah, movie about twins. Well, might as well turn Facebook back on. Look a cute movie about two girls, one black, on white and they, oooh, they think they are twins. Aah.. well, I’ll just take the train to my friend and gosh, this men sitting opposite me starts talking to me about his lost sister and twin-sister. Right….

My heart had difficulty beating those days, it literally hurt, it was so heavy, so sad. I spoke with a friend and she said, if it were her issue she would go to a shaman and then she mentioned one. (She also told me to go to the GP btw but I feared I would be on intensive care an hour later if I would, so I did not.) Did not know there were shamans in the Netherlands! So I googled him; the google maps photo of his practise has a woman with a twin pram in front of it. I can’t even think this shit up.

twinpram

 

In continuance of the twin brother issues: I have dreamt of my boss walking around in my dreams trying to find me and tell me that he misses me. There is this glass layer between us and I think he can not see me, he is just searching while I am standing there. Frozen in time. I can not react because if we would connect we would both explode with all the built up energy and things unsaid. No, don’t worry, nothing sexual – but I guess there is a weirdness over the closeness we had which would normally be worked out sexually. But that would have been an absolute no-no. It would not work either, I energetically zoomed in once on him once trying to find his sexual energy and all I found is that he’s not my cup of tea. I felt him energetically zoom in at me several times and slammed the door shut. Hmm, did I tell you that was after I let him appraise me several times while I was being brainy and al managerial. In order to be effective it is better to slam the door shut when he thinks he can enter, not? πŸ˜€ Ooh, sorting out what is true in this is so confusing when in the situation. Guessing here denial is a tool for survival too.

I don’t know, well, I do know; the moment we first met he mentioned that we differ 3 days in age and at that moment I projected this ‘You are my lost twin brother!’ thing on him. He was my brother, I was his sister. My brothers always need taking care off even before they know that themselves. The die, so I need to save them, I needed to save my boss. Not sure what his issue is. Ooh, I do know! It is exactly what is going on: he can not be in contact, he can not find ‘me’ (his sister) She is there, all is well, and then she leaves. Oh my god. How sad! His wife says he is an autist. That is not true, he just can’t find her. He is living his trauma. Oh my god. This is so sad. (Well, projected sad but I think I’m right here). My former former boss (the woman) said about him: ‘He can not hold onto his staff’ – that is such a typical vanishing twin thing: not being able to hold on to, well, anything. Always, always on the road, searching for I don’t know what. Well, I do know. 😦 Looking for the person who is not there. To feel whole again. To fill this hole in the soul.

Ever since we have been in this brother-sister bond where we assume to understand each other completely, take that for granted as if we have known eachother for years and are angry when this in reality does not seem to be so. And as in any brother – sister relation sex sometimes pops up by accident and is banished immediately too. And anger builds there because anger is a solid foundation to base a decision on. So I guess, looking back, it is not strange that I left. Looking back I think the alternative was an enormous falling out. To those not familiar with Vanishing Twins, there are some education vids on YouTube if you like. Mainly it is about people who were created as twin or multiple of which one or more died in the womb. Funny in a not so funny way this influences the personality a lot. Almost all things found in addiction can also be found in the life of a person who is a half twin. I see the connection there within me. Does not have to be, but I’m thinking there is. For me there is truth in it.

Well, I have started to meditate. My hug buddy is from somewhere Middle-East and he says: “If I have problem I sit down and think of nothing. It is good. You think too much. Relax.” πŸ™‚ ❀ How is that not good for me :-). So I sit down and think of nothing. πŸ™‚

My birthday falls in this period before Christmas. I always cry a lot the days before I have my birthday. Again and again I feel like I failed at life. While actually I did an amazing thing this year: got the company I worked for to a hell of a high score on their certification. Learned that I could learn and manage an enormous load of new information in a short time and make company policy out of that. Aah, well, I can try to be grateful for that but mainly I am sad because I had to leave to make myself safe again.

I did realise one thing: I have several things which are repetitive, the thought of ‘I have to leave anyway’ and ‘They will destroy it anyway’ and ‘If it is nice it will go away.’ have stuck with me for all my life. No idea who They are but in my life I can always point out some ‘they’s’. Well, at some point in time the last week I realised that the assumption that I have to leave anyway comes from having to leave the womb. This theory just aligned for a few seconds with all my cells so I guess it is one of those personal truths. My mother said I came into this world SCREAMING with anger, no, rage. My mother, baby/kids nurse for I think at least 4 years, had never in her life seen such an angry baby. I found it all very unfair to be born (this way?). Guess that is one of the ‘childish’ notions I have about this life: unfair. I’m thinking these notions stop me from doing what I need to do. And obviously Facebook helped me along with this beautiful tile:

considerforamomentwhatyoucallyourpersonality

I think I should write a post on answering that question for myself. Things are ‘separating’ within. One second I can be in an emotional hell and the other moment I think: ‘mwoah, let it go, let it go, it is not now.’ Which often works. But then I can step back into the ‘drama’ (?) easily too, like with the trying of having sexy action.

For a while I have been thinking that I (we humans?) tend to hold on to experiences too long. Letting go would make life so much easier. Not there yet but it is starting to happen. Need to keep on meditating. πŸ™‚ The cat LOVES it when I sit down. She climbs on my lap and sleeps within no time. No tail wagging which is her normal restless situation. πŸ™‚

A woman who loves herself would pay more attention to herself but shit I have so much I need to hide from. I can not do ‘this life’ on my own. It just often hurts too much to be aware off. I prefer Netflix then. But I guess I have to sort out how and where to work. No inspiration yet.

Yesterday, when the hug buddy came along I had bought some clay as an inspirational act which I thought: let’s follow that. I started making a little baby, my brother. With whatever part of the body I was claying I had these flashbacks to his health. Somehow I think that if I know why he died I do not have to blame myself.

The man I met on the train was mentally handicapped (is that how you say this?). He reminded me a lot of my brother. I wonder if my brother was mentally handicapped too. Thing is: in the womb that does not matter yet, the womb is about existing – well, moving in and out of existence sometimes but building up a connection to the body, settling, incarnating. And awareness of the world and body slowly grows and is there. From the experience in which I relived being in the womb and seeing, feeling my brother die I know that awareness was already there. We as people in this life just don’t remember it because we are trained in mental and physical skills in this world, not in awareness. The overstressing of the importance of mental skills diminishes the awareness. And then later, after we all got addicted we go do yoga and meditate to get the awareness back πŸ˜‰ .

The clay puppet is not done yet. Can’t finish anything these days. So I left it under a wet paper. Now the bottom side of the puppet is soaked and feels as yukkie as the body of my brother did when he died. I’m thinking this clay practise is a good thing because it gives me a canvas (well, clay) to project on. Things just ‘pop up’. Like folding and bending and forming and then suddenly: the neck was not like that, the head was (still) bend forward. I guess tiny things like these will at some point enable me to find the age range in which he died. But I don’t want to look at fetus photo’s now because that could influence my process.

Well, that is a long post again. And another one for me more than for you possibly. I am not fully selfish if you think so. I worked in my friends shop for 1,5 days, helped a lost and crying woman at the train station, ha, found another cat and got it back to its owner (this time all online, but still). Cooked for a friend, for neighbours, for my family. Gave some spiritual advise to a friend of mine. And I gave some Dutch lessons to a Middle East man but, well, that turned into something totally different. πŸ™‚

A woman who loves herself would really really really start to take better care. I have no clue how to incorporate that other than through not feeling ashamed for outside sources. Ooh, that is called accountability. πŸ™‚ So, I guess I need to keep on inviting a certain person to my house in order to clean it well. Or…? Isn’t it funny that biology can fix in one afternoon what I myself could not do on will power for half a year? vacuuming my floor and cleaning out some rubbish. πŸ™‚ If that is the way, that is the way.

I’m off to bed. I wish you all a nice, sober, aware holiday season. Remember whatever shit you might find yourself in: there is no problem that does not get worse with drinking. πŸ™‚ And for those who are still on the fence when it comes to drinking and whose mind does not want to compute the double negative here is the simple version: alcohol always makes everything worse. Just so you know. I did not for years. I thought alcohol made things better. That is a lie you have been fed by the alcohol industry and society and now your own internal addict might be telling you the same lies. That is nasty. But for me, realising this statement is true will made it easier to fight urges. Well, it quenched the urges. Or helped me to see them as a passing train. Standing on the track trying to block the urge train with will power is tiring and in the end pretty destructive. Stepping away from the track to a safe distance and just letting the urge train pass is way nicer. And easier. πŸ˜‰ Wishing you strength and wisdom if you need it. I will most likely not be doing anything with Christmas so feel free to mail or comment.

I am happy that I quit. I would have made such a huge mistake with the hug-buddy otherwise. πŸ™‚

xx, Feeling

Advertisements

2000 light years from home

I guess that about sums it up. Life has been tough. Reading another book on the vanishing twin syndrome has really confronted me with the issue and the sadness I have felt all my life. All the details, every point of it, everything falls into place; even the constant oversharing I do on this blog. Between twins this is not oversharing, it is normal. It is the norm. And in doing so I try to recreate what was. Everything falls into place apart from me. I fall apart.

This immense overwhelming feeling of not being whole, of living and constantly looking for something which in reality cannot be found. Ever. The inability to settle in a house, a life, a job, an occupation even, a relation, a family, always searching, never finding. Always on the road. They call it a hole in the soul and yes, there it is and now it finally has a name. At first I was happy of having found what uprooted me even before I was born and turned me into somebody who is ‘different’, not normal. Now the realisation of having been born this way, knowing that what makes me different has rendered me structurally unsound, unfit to actually find what I am looking for, longing for.

I have always thought that what I am looking for is, well, must be around the corner, where else? I just have not found it yet. But it is not. I now understand this palm reader who, while looking at my hand called out: “I don’t understand you are still alive?!” Like it was written in my palm that I had died, or should have. I did not, my other me did. I have a simian crease as a reminder. 😦

I am tired, lost, lonely. And I don’t understand. I have finally found what ‘ails’ me but shit it hurts. And yes, I understand it must be strange for people to understand this, or even believe the existence of something like a vanishing twin syndrome but I know this is geographically correct, and probably, most likely historically. My mother had blood loss while being pregnant with me, well, me and my twin brother so there is more than ‘only’ my experience of him dying.

This is a sonogram from a twin brother and sister. He is too tiny to survive, holding his big sisters hand.

twinsholdinghands

Funny thing: do you, since you quit drinking, know pretty sure who drinks too much and who is a normy? Can you tell within seconds of seeing somebody? Same here with the VTS. This openness, the hole in the soul, this hole in the aura even. The ability to bond and as I put it ‘make an energetic coccoon’ around two people within seconds. That. Excluding the world and only living for eachother. Where ‘you are me and I am you’ is reality.

Currently I am living in the darkness of his death. So horrific, so overwhelming to witness death up so close and not be able to do something, nothing I could do could save him, nothing I could do to save me from taking it all in; death, destruction, the falling apart from the essence that kept together what I knew as my brother, the other me.

There is not even a path to walk on. I am just floating through the universe and everything is far away. I don’t want to have to search anymore. I am so tired.

This vid explains it ‘all’. Like with the Craig Nakken book on addiction, in this vid almost every sentence is true for me. Please also watch when you are bipolar, have eating disorder, sabotage yourself, have co-dependent relationships and/or addictions. The addictions are not mentioned in this vid but are in the books and website info of a lot of sites. Please not the half black and half white puppet in the presentation, that is my description of me in this dream where I had ‘born myself‘.

 

It is way past bed time and I am not doing what I should be doing but I am happy, well, happy in a very sad way I wrote this post and found the vid. I am also happy that I quit drinking. Life is tough right now but imagine being so sad AND drinking. Ieeehks, not good. 😦

Thank you for reading. I know it is not the most uplifting post I have written. πŸ™‚

xx, Feeling

Twins and one dying

Well, I’ve been not wanting to write this for a very long time but ‘signs’ urge me to so here it goes…. 2 Years ago I had a solo sexual experience (how is that for an intro to a post?) which within seconds shocked me into an experience of feeling ‘my brother’ dying and me re-absorbing the atoms and energy of his body and mind / consciousness / spirit – I don’t know what, but the essence that would make him him in this world, not the eternal part. In this experience I was in my mother’s womb and my brother was actually a twin brother. The grieve, it was, overwhelming. Crushing me, crushing me. So, so, so…. pfffff…. no words there. The powerlessness still makes me cry now when writing this. And then the re-absorbing of the dying energy which was awful, sickening and I pushed and fought to keep it out but I could not and it hurt.

I can’t write this without letting the crazy out to explain it so here it comes: this was in uterus, when experiences where still felt fully and every atom of me moved with the flow of life and everything was Life and then he died. I think to understand now that later, when we come into this world we learn to not experience life as I did then. Or maybe I only did so because of this overwhelming happening. I don’t know. God it hurts to feel somebody dying, the life energy leaving, it was all so clear, so clear. And there was nothing I could do. I wanted to help and safe him, I could not and I felt so guilty because something said that if I had not survived, he would have lived. Or maybe that is what I made of it, maybe that is what my adult brain makes of it. I don’t know. But things fell into place and I wrote a mail about it to my therapist which I believe I never send. I mean, it is like this intro ‘hey I masturbated and then I had this epiphany’. :-/

I still have the mail. This is what it says and I have added some stuff to it that I understand better now.

I think my search is complete. I have been looking into ‘why am I so strange, different, weird’ for years and I think I found the answer in an experience today. I experienced my twin brother dying while we were both unborn and that shaped my weirdness.

I have a tendency to pick up feelings from other people without knowing it. I describe that as lacking a layer in my aura. Within the twin experience I had it was very normal, in my original setting I was not complete as a person – I was two.

I can not remember well now but the mail reminds me also of an overwhelming experience of rivalry which I won, at his expense. This feeling very much ‘aligns’ with the basic feelings I have in contact with other people. Most normal people won’t notice but when I in therapy or on my own, let the crazy out, take off the mask, I can only admit that I ‘energetically’ for lack of another word, scan people constantly whether or not they will kill me, or I them. That is how basic it is. 😦 Sorry. I must sound like a monster. I feel a monster, I feel too much. I feel as if I am too much, too much, too overwhelming, too big to let space for others. So big I killed my brother. Once I did a therapy weekend and the question came up ‘If I exist, can the other exist?’ and my internal answer was NOOOOOOOO! The other way around does not work for me either; If the other exist, can I exist?’ That answer is negative too. So…. my basic idea of life is a sort of kill or be killed thing. Could be biologically very logical, don’t know. I never know if I am actually crazy or other people just don’t know that they are too.

Facebook today: ‘Let your weirdness shine bright so other weird people can find you.’ πŸ™‚

I feel that the crushing overwhelm I experienced fucked up my core self and knowing what is mine and can be had. And the re-absorption of my dead brothers atoms and energy fucked up the energetic entries into my life. It feels like the rape experiences of later were only re-enactments of my brother dying.

The overwhelm also mixed with my feelings of self-preservation and it is very logical for me to assume now that the energetic base for my aggression towards others and my want/need/having this internal power which says ‘self destruct’ was born in that moment.

During this experience I was shown that I have had the possibility to energetically take up my brother totally and that would put me in contact with the spirit world forever. I would become a shaman by birth. I said ‘no thank you!’ since I very much feel like the spirit world is entitled to run their own affairs without me. Which is a stupid made up ego reply to the fright I felt :-(. The offer came with the knowledge that I would go crazy first, as in, of this planet crazy and then I would have to find my way back to the human world. Another one of those offers ‘you simply can’t refuse’. :-/

I feel guilty that I am alive and always have felt so as long as I can remember. Guilt over killing my brother has always been there. I know I have no proof, other than my experience and my mother bleeding at one time around 3 months for a few days during pregnancy.

When writing the mail to my therapist I mentioned that I saw a relation between the death of my brother, my guilt and my tendency to sabotage relations. I remember that standing out very clearly but currently I have no, wow, I do have a connection to that thought: It is my ‘knowledge’ that I killed my brother with an overdose on female hormones. I would not even know if that is medically possible, have not looked into that. Looking at my hourglass shaped figure with extra filling in the right places I would say that I am ‘gifted’ (good word, looking at the double meaning of it) with high doses of female hormones. What I tend to do in relations is (s)mother. Like I castrated the bookstore man by thinking he’s a coaching project who needs to get clean to be a real person.

Another point I remember from my youth and it has always bugged me is that I had frequent nightmares at the age 3-8 I guess about my actual brother dying or falling into pits or whatever. There were 2 major themes: he was in danger and I could do nothing to safe him. There are a whole lot of explanations for it. There are people who could call it wish-dreams, not sure, possibly so. However to me then it felt real and life threatening and absolute horror. We lived in a neighbourhood with only boys so there was a lot of fighting going on. There is a story where my brother was attacked by 4 or more, can’t remember now, kids which were years older than he and I as a 4 year old jumped in and kicked, scratched, hit and screamed long enough to ward them off. Stories like these were not uncommon but always reported by the neighbours because the playground was in front of their house. Btw: that was in the time where fighting on the streets was ‘something kids do’. And the neighbour said things like ‘you seemed to cope so why interfere.’ Different times. :-/

At the age of 4 I asked my mother why I was here on earth. I remember thinking about that a lot. I could not work it out. Ooh, hmmmm, I only learn now that this is not a surprise :-D.

When I get really sad and cry and lose myself my nose clogges up and I can’t breathe anymore, only through my mouth. This sets of this experience of chocking and dying and an overwhelming sadness which most of the time is not related to the actual issue. Another physical process that happens is wanting to throw up, get the ‘energy’ out of me. This nausea is what I also experienced in my, eh, experience of absorbing the dead energy of my dead brother.

Not sure if it is related but I have a simian line on my right hand of which people who read palms say that this happens due to trauma in the uterus. I am thinking now: is the Simian not the same as twin in English? Or? Well, anyway, the Simian line is where the heart and the head line of the hand are one. Yep, so that is about people who mix up heart and head and don’t know the difference. Sounds familiar. :-/

I have written about this before in post about my Ayahuasca experience and I find it back now in this old mail; I have a tendency to put sadness between me and an experience in a way that ‘everything I love will die’. When I see something beautiful my first experience is happiness over the beauty and even before that has landed safely I put sadness there because I fear ‘it will be broken’, ‘it is not sustainable’, ‘I can not hold on to something that beautiful’, ‘he will not love me anyhow’, ‘she will not like me anyhow.’

Another point in the mail: opposite my tendency to ‘override’ others and well, basically see if I can ‘kill’ them, there is this tendency in me to ward of life energy from others. I have this what my GP calls ‘look about you that you do not need anybody’. 😦 Shit I am wishing I did not have to realise this, this, sadness.

And… awkward part of it; I have this gender confusion, sexual confusion… sometimes it is big and sometimes it is not. It might come as a surprise to you since I’m been moaning about the bookstore man (I soooo wish for a post where this person is NOT included) but that attraction is not physical. He’s actually ‘not my type’ as in ‘does not have what makes me tick’. Which, well, might be a good thing when looking at my history of falling for guys who did make me ‘tick’ but there is no need to even think about that.

Back to gender confusion. I remember the day I found out I was not a boy AND I NEVER WOULD BE. I was 10. I was angry, specifically with the last part. I had always, like, sort of been thinking ‘later’ things would ‘turn out ok with me’. No, I had the birds and the bees talk at age very young, 5 I think so I did know how it works. I just did not feel that way AND I did not want to accept it because my father was dominating the whole family and being a women was a thing to be scared off. I knew that already.

Gender confusion. My ‘epiphany’ came up when, in an orgasm I switched genders in my fantasy. This enormous sluice opened up and all these memories (‘memories’?) came flooding through me. FUCK.

A homeopathic doctor I have says my yang is too strong. When going through the experience I realised that this came with taking up the energy of my unborn brother.

So, how does this continue in my life. At that time I looked up surviving twin syndrome a little but let go because I had more pressing things on my mind as being addicted e.g. But ever since I got sober the twin thing has been pressing on me and it has become more apparent lately. It started with a book about surviving twin syndrome that was on the table in the bookstore and what I read immediately hit home. Like Craig Nakken’s book ‘Addicted Personality’ every sentence was true for me and every sentence was quotable. Obviously I did NOT buy it, thinking it was something I would deal with later.

At my 1 year anniversary the bookstore man offered me the choice of a book and at that moment I thought I need to pick this carefully because it will ring the bell for my 2nd year. That is a strange choice of words but that is what I thought. So…. I did not choose. I was chosen for by the bookstore man who gave me ‘Who am I’ a short version of Sri Ramana Maharshi’s look on life and what we call the individual and he said: ‘You should at least take this.’ The next time(s) I was at the store I tried to make a choice but could not but time and time again the books that I would pick up would be about ‘two’ or ‘black and white’ orΒ  ‘light and dark’, everything happened in pairs. I thought it was a preoccupation of my mind with my bookstore man issue but I think it worked out to be different. I wanted to take the twin syndrome book but I can not imagine this year to be focussed on that. I mean, if anything I should be focussing on money. NOW. :-/

The last time I saw the bookstore man he was being very friendly to a female (girl?) friend of his and that hurt. Not so much the (girl)friend part of it but the me feeling excluded as being a person who he would like to be friendly to. Next day he FB-ed I was a ‘coaching project’ and we have not been in contact since. :-/ Falling in love is very educational and has NOTHING to do with reality :-(. It hurts. Well, on leaving the bookstore I walked home through the rain and entered a children’s bookstore on the way. When speaking with the children’s bookstore girl she said ‘My favorite book is from ‘Tonke Dragt’, ‘Stories of twin brothers’. That is when this little bell went of in my head thinking ‘this IS strange’.

I walked home and several tiny things like hearing about twins or seeing numbers like 11:11 and 22:22 have been happening ever since. These have been going on for some years now but are getting even more frequent now.

And now for the strangest part of the funny things. I went to bookstore 2 last Friday. There old bookstore man 2 is still on holiday but I got to speak with the ‘reserve’ bookstore man 2. He ended up giving me a book saying ‘This is the last book I read, it starts of pretty depressing but it ends up being absolutely beautiful, do you know it?’ And I looked at the cover and said; ‘This rings a bell, I have had this book in my hands several times but there is something with it, a darkness I didn’t really feel like getting into.’
‘Yeah, there is, take it, get it back to me some day, and read through the beginning, it is good.’

Something kept nagging while I went home, it kept nagging. I left home, it kept nagging. I did shopping and it kept nagging and then finally this quarter fell: THE BOOK USED TO BE MINE! I brought it to the 2nd hand book store a few weeks ago and gave it to the bookstore man 2. So from all the 15.000 – 20.000Β  books in that store, this reserve bookstore man, who knew nothing of this, hands me back ‘my own’ book. It is ‘Animal dreams’ from Barbara Kingsolver and the first page is about twins. I had taken it from a pile of a neighbour who was cleaning up her house and offered it for free on Facebook. When cleaning up my book cabinet I realised that I could not get past the darkness it emits so I was wondering if I would read it. So, I guess by now I should read it. πŸ™‚

All in all anything I think to know about the vanishing twin syndrome and the ‘murder’ I accuse myself of could be related to the murder I do on, well, who know, the male part in me? The males around me? Whenever somebody in my environment mentions something about certain groups in society behaving criminal I tend to reply with saying: ‘95% Of the people in prison is male… so where do you think I put the blame for crime in this society?’ Yeah, I don’t normally make friends with that statement, but then again, there is no need to be friends with racists is there? Oooh, there still is some real nastiness there. :-/ I was thinking that contact with the bookstore man had made me see that men are human too. I guess I outsmarted this equalizing experiencing this by sexualising the relationship. I actually do know and experience that men are human (without the too.. :-)). It is just (?) that when I get down to the nitty-gritty I realise that in some modes of existence I do not accept that. I guess this has to do with me going into survival mode where everybody is enemy but men most.

My mail also mentioned another insight which I does not connect to me currently but it says ‘contempt is guilt projected onto the other.’ Does not ring a bell today. Which might be funny because I am thinking that some of you might think this whole post is about this but, what can I say, it does not ring a bell.

So…. I can write almost 3000 words on a 10 seconds experience :-). Letting it settle in me lasted way longer, longer. As I said, this happened almost exactly 2 years ago and I still do not know what it is about. I do think it links back to the dream of me having me as a baby. Where the black and white and the balance are very important.

And I do think this ‘concept of two coming from one going to one’ strongly connects to my view of the world, to my higher power if you will. My idea of a higher power is the creative energy, chaos if you will that shapes what is in this world. And as everything in nature there is no such thing as only growing who knows where, there is also the organising thing and the boundary thing. The yin and yang if you will. I actually came to this ‘division’ of the world through an Ayahuasca experience. I wrote, well, actually copied some stuff into the post ‘Yeah, I found what I was looking for!’ it is about male and female and balance.

Ghegheghe, the bookstore man on balance: ‘Pfff, balance, balance…. balance is overrated, balance is very boring and the experience comes when the unbalance happens.’ Aaah, shit, I’ll miss that. 😦 He, nor I, can, by no means afford to unbalance even more but I just love the, well, I guess the rebellious thinking in this. I guess this is where the attraction is attached. :-/ Well good to find out. 😦 I added ‘And the learning and shaping happens where we want or need to get back to understanding, integrating the experience and / or ‘the balanced place’.’ Or something like that.

Yesterday I was thinking about this while undressing. I have carried a black and white pebble in my pockets on and off for years now, dunno why, it seemed important after having read ‘The alchemist‘ from Paulo Coelho. The main person has black and white stones as well. A few weeks back I had been wondering why oh why they never fell out of my pockets as they did in his case, they would ‘point the way’. πŸ™‚ And yesterday they did, for the first time in years. I am guessing I need to proceed my learning about the world in the direction of balance and the yin yang concept or I’m guessing the Peruvian / Ayahuasca organisation of the world. Guess I feel at home in this concept of two coming from one going to one. Ghegheghe, or maybe all religions are based on that. Let’s see. :-/

To make a long post even longer. I got to writing this because my therapist said something about my animus not being strong or whatever – because I did not understand it very well. I do understand that there is something with boundaries and regulation and ‘discipline’ if you will out of balance big time. And the drifting in the chaos like I do in my life, I mean, even the way I write: long posts, no editing is unregulated, undisciplined. So where I do not understand the link back to Jung’s archetype thinking I do know something somehow. But not how to put it right. Bummer! 😦

I am happy that I quit, still in this way of pfffffff, looking back and thinking ‘thank God I do no have to do that again….’ I did have a drinking dream the other day. I think it came up with the post from Live to be continued where she mentions that she got trolled by somebody saying something which I translated into “If you can quit so easily, maybe you are not addicted’. I have that too. It is my weakest point. I tend to then point at my bank account and say ‘Now who’s not addicted?!’ But still, in my dream I wandered off. And the strange but informative thing was: I did not like the drink, I thought it smelled like poison, I drank it any way because of the feeling I was expecting to get from it because other people said so…. and because I did not want to have to stand up for myself. Did not want to fit out. If that is a word. Ooh, they also said that if I could quit so easily, I could have that drink, just one to try if it was really that bad. Isn’t it marvellous how dreams can just create people telling me exactly what I most obviously would like to hear?

I am getting into serious trouble with another addiction currently: chocolate. I am up to 100 to 150 grams and I start buying other goods too so I do not only have the chocolate in my basket. The other day I hid chocolate from my SIL. It is amazing. Very informative and it shames me but I solve that by acting like I am past caring. 😦 I don’t know why I need to cry now. I don’t know. I thought I would be tough and in control. I’m not. While there are few people in my life who actually as precise as I do know how damaging it all is. Well, dark 72% eco chocolate, but still… it is starting to replace my dinner.

I need: well, stop running and listen to my body. I am very tired, again I have not slept due to pain in my arm and shoulder because of the infection of the tendons and my heart is pumping like crazy to make up for, dunno what. My body said: easy on the chocolate, no more meat!!!!!!!!!! MEAT IS DEAD!!!! And more water, no tea, tea has an opinion, sends me places. No tea with herbal effects. (Did your body ever tell you that tea has an opinion?) Well, if this is what it is, I might as well do what my body says and see what it brings.

I want: things to be easy and me to have a lot of energy because, as I said my heart is pumping heavily in my chest because of being tired.

I take: Schuessler salts but not in the right quantities, not sure what I’m doing there. BecauseΒ  I do not sleep well I eat late and forget my Ayurvedic pills.

On discipline: non, apart from sitting down and meditating / listening to my body and funny enough I have made my bed for over a year now too. I never used to but when I got sober it somehow felt like a good thing to do and during that time I set my intentions to ‘sober’.

3 Things: this post. The beautiful dark blue candle which has been accompanying me during writing. And you, making it to this point in the post ;-).

It’s another long story to document what is going on. Some day it will make sense to me why I write it all down. πŸ™‚

I hope you have a nice day.

xx, Feeling