There is a lot going on, even the moments before I wake up. Listening, watching, feeling…all are busy things. When I skip them I am anxious… When I skip water, when I skip praying, when I skip breathing.
The angst has been high. The squeezed feeling has been every day pretty much. I am drowning in my own passiveness. It’s growth time. And it hurts. Morning is a window, or a big door into the day, into how I feel the whole day. I forget the evening too… but the morning, it is the door that I must pass through in my own way.
This feeling is like a weighty moan in the background as I try to task orient myself. I feel it, but I can’t release it. I think about it, which doesn’t make it any less…loud or nauseating. Can’t choose what will feel better because…why? Because I think doing something will make things better? Because doing nothing is so difficult when feelings are nagging? Hollow inside, even though I am full of things to express and full of things I must do and the associated feelings of responsibility.
Importance: self expression, personally furthering activities and creations, feelings of togetherness and home.
This moment: gone already.
What does it mean to face the profuse loneliness head on and then speed off in the direction that life is pulling you?
It takes me by surprise and yet is maybe the most familiar thing. I thought I was on top of it. I thought. But I was feeling more than thinking. I am hopeless still. For a little while longer.
The pain is acute right now. It is the feeling of foolishness? Embarrassment? Shame? Disappointment? Abandonment? Another real shattered heart? One more time, someone not seeing, feeling, loving, taking care of my love for them. I feel like I get into a cruel game every time.
My Dad held out a pack of Juicy Fruit for me to take a piece when I was little. Couldn’t have been 5yrs old. It was a trick pack. Where a spring lets go and snaps onto the top of your finger as you pull the piece of gum out of the pack. I thought it was cruel.
Not because of the gum.
Because the gesture was kind and the trick negated that for the purposes of his entertainment. Story of my life?
I am feeling icky…bigger than icky. The profusely needy, lost part of me that still searches for the kind of love that does not leave – how do I soothe her. I look for the kind of love that does not flap in the wind. That does not second-guess itself, re-evaluate itself, rationalize itself away, chuckle at itself for having been foolish, used, entertainment.
In a moment, or 10, I think I have found it the love. But I created the illusion again.
The love is in me but not in others? Is that it?
I can not argue for other people’s feelings. I can not know for them.
What do I truly know for me? I know deeper things in everyone. But that does not help.
Do I know deeper me? Do I know my own tendencies to commit, and then to block out what I can receive from the person or love I committed to? Do I know myself? Am I rightfully cautious? Or foolishly?
Maybe I don’t want to know myself. Because working out why I block out love is too much work for lowly little me. Do I just filter it out? Do I love conditionally? Am I genuine?
Am I truthful about having a broken heart?
The burdensome pain of hurt and anger behind my heart was eased yesterday. I went for a massage, and my massage therapist, who has done reiki for years now, tried it during my massage. I got up from my massage with an inability to feel the hardness and the burdensome feelings at that part of my middle back. I kept on with my day being my usual over-working self, with high expectations and the next task ready in the back of my mind, and then my body stopped on me.
When I arrived home I felt faint. Even though I had just eaten, and just gotten a massage, and might well have felt somewhat rejuvenated, my body almost collapsed before I could sit down. I was white. I felt a cold sweat. Trembling. I laid down in the livingroom with some snacks and still could not stop even though my body did. I struggled with letting my mind stop so I started watching a movie.
One of my trauma things is the desperate need for things that bring me a dopamine release. I am generally wary and distrustful of people, even though I have plenty of friends and plenty of people enjoy my energy and presence. But this means that I stay away from people often times when I need company. And doing this deprives me of a healthy dose of dopamine. I let myself get lonely.
And certain types of shows, movies, youtube videos give me that dopamine rush. I am terrified to feel entirely being alone…
So, went to sleep eventually, not in a way I really wanted to, and woke up unrested, as usual. Then I prayed. And gave myself some awareness moments in bed. I was thinking through all of the things about my weekend trying to work out how I was going to handle all of my ‘have-to’s’ and all of my ‘want-to’s’. It’s a holiday weekend and I am, like i have been many years, in the situation where I have so much work to do for next week, that I can not have an entirely recreational weekend.
One of my biggest struggles is the decision to go out with a friend on her boat. It is not a free and relaxing space for me. I don’t do what I want or get what I need on the boat, with my friend. But for the longest time I have gone anyway. This morning as I lay in bed, I saw something about who I am in my mind. I and it became legitimate to give up going on the boat with my friend. But this sense of self that I was able to comprehend inside, was a deeper more necessary sense than I have in a long time or have ever felt.
Doing something great is not always doing something great for you.
And being afraid of others’ judgments of your decisions is a waste of your time.
Different is good.
My network spinal analyst told me, “allow yourself to feel all of the parts of you. There are many parts.”
I have scared parts and angry parts and joyful parts and goofy parts. And I think I find it uncomfortable to allow myself to be all of those things. Eve though, when I reflect, and remember moments of being all of those things.
Today my massage therapist, for the first time, did Reiki on me during our session. He touched my shoulders and I felt my hands, then my wrists then my elbows tingle. Then I felt something behind my Heart. At on of the tense spots in my spine. It was darkness. The thing I think I have defined myself by since I was young and felt terrified.
My massage therapist reminded me I could accept it. And when he said that I realized…I though I wasn’t allowed to have light, to be light, except for someone else, when they needed it.
He stole my innocence, my dad. He chased away my light. He made me believe that there was no place for me.
The awkwardness in my body when I think about accepting my dark, and making space for my light… Asking myself, what is my light?
My light, my innocence is…knowing. My light is leaving the darkness when I need to and finding all I need in the woods. On the rocky beach. In the pine needles. In the silence. In the spaces where parents take care of their kids. In the spaces and times where people take care.
Where to start when you have an immensely more thorough awareness of your fears of vulnerability (yes, that is plural “fears”)?
I know now that the answer is to feel fun, enjoyment, safety, comfort, calm…so, that my relaxed self can come out to play, make decisions, make connections.
I am also aware, at the same time, of how typical my “hard work, hard on myself and others” ethic and underlying pattern is…how incredibly habitual…and normal…and expected fearful, ‘impossible’ situations feel for me.
The thing is, I am ready for a relationship with myself and with someone else that is not challenging like my relationships have been in the past. I want to be myself. But I want to be the easy self, my open funny, curious, welcoming self, excited and giddy and hopeful and optimistic and up-looking.
Malcolm Gladwell’s recent book “Blink” talks about the findings that relationships end because of i) domination and ii) contempt between partners. I do, and I carry both of those. Reflecting on myself I can see that I have used both of those in my relationships…for the purposes of control – to control the other person not hurting me, and to the control the person not seeing my soft spots or not taking advantage of them… so that I could appear strong and stay safe. I felt like I was educating the other person by wielding ‘fear’ tools…
Tadaaah! And thus it is the platform on which most of my relationships are based, and the overwhelming reason why i have been in relationships with people who i) hurt me ii) are insensitive to my soft spots…iii) are not caring nor safe.
And all I have to do is be nicer to myself. Starting now. That’s ALL!!!
Anyone have any encouraging stories to share on this topic…???
It’s time to start another compassionate inquiry (no pun intended Sat Daram Kaur & Gabor Maté).
I have been both successful and crashed and burned in the past few weeks. I have successfully gotten to the end of a year of prepping for and teaching 4 to 6 post-secondary courses, and I have laid on my bed groaning in response to blinding, cold-sweat-inducing pain. Right now I have a broken finger and the best cardio condition I have had in a long time.
That has been the last few weeks.
And I have (almost) a guaranteed teaching contract into the next three academic years, and a number of choices of programs for personal and professional development to begin to engage in in the next few weeks.
And I have a better understanding of what my day-to-day personal self-support and care regime is to look like (although I haven’t shifted into gear on that for some reason). I am standing on the edge of the world and am still torn between falling over the edge and jumping to soar.
My true desire is a job where the work revolves around my efforts. I have not usually dealt well for a long time with a job where I am being babysat.
I work independently as
- a grad student
- as a post-secondary course director
- as a yoga instructor
The whole content of my work is sourced by me. And the timelines, although there is a general schedule and deadlines in each of these contexts, are a result of what I produce.