Monthly Archives: February 2015

The world is my mirror.

I was watching a short video this morning, with Robert Holden, who is talking about mirror work and what he had learned from Louise hay. A Friend of mine also recommended this video and others that came along with it, because they give basic instructions on how to do mirror work.

I’ve been telling a friend of mine for months, about how uncomfortable it feels to do mirror work, to tell myself that I love myself. Face-to-face. I thinkThe feeling that comes up is that I should be very sparing about how nicely I speak to myself. I should be very sparing about how much I look at myself, how much attention I give to myself, how indulgent I am about doing or saying things that make me feel good.

So, after having started watching this Robert Holden video a couple of times before, I finally finished the whole video this morning. And he asks at the end that the watcher try doing mirror work for one minute, five Times a day, for seven days in a row. That’s five minutes a day, for one week.

So, I’m going to do it. Wish me luck. For five times a day, I am going to challenge my ingrained feeling that I have to be sparing about how much I care for myself, and about how much I can be cared for.

Have a look at this first video if you like. I’ll check back in about how it’s going for me, and insert the links to other videos, the next ones. If you try, and don’t mind sharing how it makes you feel, please share. If you’re and a vid mirror worker, don’t hesitate to share some of the obstacles you encountered. And got past.

Thanks for reading!



You :-) Me :-)


What goes down must come up.

Yesterday was an emotionally irruptive day. Volcano, seriously. I can’t tell you exactly what is coming up. I just know that it’s trying to escape like a natural force. With the uncontainable power of a natural force.

I knew I couldn’t keep it down forever. How many of you know what it’s like to keep on stuffing, and stuffing, and stuffing…? Some of us never experience those moments where we stuffed so much that we are like the champion of an emotional eating contest. We’ve tried to pack back so many emotions, and our emotional weight is about 10,000 pounds. That is not a sustainable emotional mass. it wants to seep out of our pores. I know that feeling after Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner…when your body just wants to give up and you can barely inhale let alone take another bite. Well, whatever’s inside me is revoltingabout being crowded in so tightly.

I haven’t been fair, and I’m suffering for it.

How fortunate I am to have a friend who walked blocks and blocks with me on the way home from work last night. Well I blubbered cried pretty much the whole way. How fortunate am i?

I’ve never felt it so necessary to show what I was taught as a young girl is ugly. Never been in such a desperate moment to love myself even though I feel so bad.

It feels more right to bawl my eyes out, then to sit at home like a rock or hide in my office like a ghost.

Because I’m a human being, perhaps?

Secrets, Truth, and Me

“Truth be told, this habit of being secretive had started in my teens when I would try to hide how bad things were at home and would pretend that everything was A-OK. It took me a long time to realise that I’d also subconsciously gotten into the habit of distancing myself from People Who Knew Too Much. I felt ashamed and would project this onto them – this was my lonely habits of thinking and behavior. I had lots of friends and a number of very close friendships and yet, there was only so far that I allowed these people in. The way I felt about me as well as my romantic relationships, was casting me adrift from my relationships. I felt lonely – something that most people would not associate with me – and that only started to recede when I gradually stopped being secretive but also stopped judging me for, well, being human. My relationship with me and others dramatically improved and those fears that had dictated my life were proved wrong. It was unfair for me to base my self-esteem on past mistakes, my background, my exes etc, not least because I didn’t judge my nearest and dearest for the same.”

This section of this entry –

really hits home for me. I have lived this. It is haunting. I do the same to this day. I began to stop doing it a couple of years ago when I started going to Coda meetings, but I have had no idea how deep the patterns are. It is difficult to reflect back on, but a relief as well. I can almost breathe better just thinking about the fact that it is possible to stop acting and feeling as though I have to be ashamed of being human…

What a Good F’n Anger day!

I got a lot out. And I’m not letting myself feel guilty or ugly about it.

Thank you.

Angry…! Goooooood :-)

I was able to access anger today. Talking to a good friend on the phone, I was able to talk about a couple things I figured out about the last incident with my ex, in December. I think I’ve told the story on here to some degree. I went to a family event with him halfway through December. When he picked me up he’d been drinking, I got in the car anyway. All the way up to the party he lectured me and yelled at me, because he was afraid of the stress of being at the party, and made it seem like I was the cause of that stress. He used the excuse that his mother called me ‘stuck up’ 5 1/2 years ago. He used me as an excuse, saying that they are his family, and he has to except that they’re his family, and that it’s better to leave me at home. All the way up to the party he criticized me as though I didn’t understand what he was saying. Acting like I was the root of some problem that had nothing to do with me.

Of course when we got up there he drank about a drink every hour. When his dad and I were dancing on the dance floor he asked me, who’s driving home? His dad asked me that because we both just saw G come back from the bar with another drink, this time a hard one. I looked over at Greg, and gestured that he was driving home, reminding him. I naïvely was holding onto the idea that, after not seeing each other for weeks and him bringing me to a family thing, that it made sense that he would actually drive there and drive back. Yes I know, silly idea.

As you can imagine it wasn’t an easy night. I was just quiet after being lectured and yelled at all the way up there. And G just tried to impress his parents. He’s almost 47, by the way. And has two kids – 19 & 13.

His parents even said a couple of nice things about/ to me that night. So I didn’t have the reason to feel entirely shitty.

But when we left, I wasn’t going to take control of any driving situation. Like I said, G had had a drink about every hour. I knew I was compromising myself and us but I was going to play his game. I had graduated to not taking hundred percent responsibility, for his actions. I wasn’t going to be a babysitter, or a mother, or “take control” which he dislikes so much.(well in certain situations, he doesn’t like it so much).

When we walked out of the building to leave, he said, “do you want to drive?” Before I could answer, he said, “but I’m okay to Drive…” I just said, okay to his last statement. So he got in the driver side and I got in the passenger side and we got going. He was on his way to stop at the gas station and before we even got there, he made a comment about my not driving. Frustrated with the fact that I played his game, he tried to turn the tables on me, and bring up the fact that they were patrols out because it was getting close to the holidays, and eventually he just said “so you don’t care if I get stopped by the cops, if I lose my license!?”.

All of my insides migrated up into my throat. I was in for it now. By the time we got to the gas station not two minutes down the road, I had said “you said you were okay to drive”. He was more and more frustrated with the fact that I was playing the game, that he started. And I was horrifically offended by his comment that “I don’t care”. That breaks me. Actually offended is nowhere near what I was feeling. I was feeling horrified. Horrified actually, barely describes what I was feeling. After the harassing drive up there, being catatonic for most of a birthday party, and leaving with him after he drank even more, I just was unable to take anymore. When he opened the car door and got out to pump the gas he closed the door and then he said “bitch”.
Then I was done.

I don’t call him names. And in almost 6 years I haven’t called him names. Because I know how it hurts.

Anyway, I ended up driving off, and leaving him at the gas station, twice in a row. When I came back the second time and he was at the window, he said, “we are partners”, as though I SHOULD be driving, ’cause that’s what partners do.

It really takes a lot to put me over the edge, eh!?. Why did I go back to the gas station? I was just incensed. It’s taken me a while to figure out that, I had every reason to feel incensed.

Why do I make myself feel so bad for feeling angry? I’ve wondered for months. For years. I don’t have to feel bad for feeling angry. Anyone would be angry. Anyone will be hurt. Anyone would be horrified. Anyone would be incensed. The reason why i’ve been so frustrated at myself, is perhaps, because I kept on putting myself in the situation. I knew he was going to be an asshole somehow. I just tried so hard to not think he was an asshole. I’ve tried so hard to act like he’s not a selfish,opportunistic prick. I always pay attention to how hurt HER must feel. How bad it feels for me to be, possibly, any kind of cause for his hurt. I always forget that other people caused him the worst hurt. I haven’t caused him any hurt, not that night either.

I have felt trapped, by him, and by my own emotions since this event. I ended up getting out of the car and leaving him there with the car. Got the bus home which took me a while. In the middle of December.

It was only maybe a week ago that it occurred to me…

All he did over the next day or so was accuse me of not caring about him getting stopped by the police. “you would’ve watch me get stopped, lose my license”, he said.

Feeling so bad, and not knowing why I was feeling so bad, I thought it would make me feel better to try to convince him that I DID care. But it was all a trap.

Maybe a week ago, it occurred to me. I didn’t even argue THAT he drive that night! He didn’t say, “I don’t want to drive”, and me say “no you drive, i’m not driving!”. I didn’t force him to drive. I didn’t give him no choice! I just listened to what he said, and said “okay”. (usually he just loves that, ha ha). I didn’t say to him that I WOULDNT drive! I didn’t FORCE him to drive. He was blaming me for everything. Every action HE took.

I am so angry, that he tried to make me feel guilty, that he angered, criticized, hurt me to soothe his own bullshit guilt, sense of alcoholic entitlement. I am so pissed off. I don’t have to take all of the responsibility for A situation that two people are involved in. Whether the other one is drunk or not, Buzzed or not. I wouldn’t have watched him get into the driver’s side if he was drunk drunk. I wouldn’t have done that. I was pushing the envelope. But I wouldn’t have pushed it that far.

I am just coming to an awareness that that whole situation is not my fault. It’s not my fault that he drank before he came and picked me up, or for the barrage of anxiety that he feels around is racist parents. Whether I go to a party with him or not is not going to change his anxiety level, or fix something that happened in the past, or make it better in the future. Him yelling at me all the way up there, for a half hour or more, Literally assaulting me with words. That is not my fault. What people think of me is not my fault, especially especially especially so, when they are prejudiced, close minded, And perhaps really racist. The fact that G drank the whole party is not my fault. It was not my responsibility to babysit him. It was not my responsibility to make him feel better when he made me feel like shit. I didn’t even have to defend myself from all the insults. I put too much pressure on myself to make a situation better when the situation is unsalvageable, because of the simple fact that he is there.

I’ve been feeling immense amount of guilt. And looking for the ways to sorted out in my mind what am I responsible for what I may not responsible for. I’m responsible for knowing what I know about him. I’m responsible for getting in myself into a situation where I know what the risks are. Past experience helps me predict the possibilities. My knowledge and understanding of G tells me what the risks are, what I’m in for, what can possibly happen.

I’m responsible for putting myself in a situation where I COULD be forced to face something that is too much for me, something that is abusive, something that feels horrendous, something that is traumatizing, profusely destructive and sad. That is my responsibility. I wouldn’t put kids in that situation, and I shouldn’t put me in that situation.

I have a damn good right to be pissed off at how shitty he treats me, how he treated me. I have a damn good right to be pissed off, irate, incensed, nauseous…nauseated, Disgusted, absolutely disgusted. I wish I could put my voice and these words, in this text, the tone of my voice. So sorry for it now. I am now believing myself, not him.

I believe me. I am disgusted. I gave him the chance, again. I’m sorry I put myself in that situation. I’m sorry to me. i’m disgusted with whatever it is that makes him act like a hateful monster. I wish I didn’t have it in me that I allowed other people to put that stuff on me.

Yes, I Think This is EXACTLY What I’m Feeling!


This Means I need to care about my pain. Not resent it, or be ashamed of it. I need to welcome it and invite it in.

We cannot heal ourselves within unless we get to know our own feelings. We cannot keep moving in the hopes that they’ll dissipate in the noise of our busy lives. We must allow space for the intensity of our emotions to breathe; feel them and accept them. Breathe with them. Be silent with them. Accept ourselves for feeling them. We have to connect with our pain so that we can process it. It is the only way we can release it. Too often we let the pain of our past project into our future. – See more at:

3 Things I Appreciate About Myself

I give my loved ones my undivided attention.

I take care of home logistics.

I believe that underneath everything, everyone does what they do in order to be loved.

There are some things I don’t need to know, anymore.

I think the anxiety I am having lately is about this habit I have anticipating. Anticipating need actions of the person who is not here anymore. But my body and my mind are still in the pattern of anticipating.and I think the longer something doesn’t happen, something bad or something I have to survive, the more scared I get. Because I really haven’t lived without anticipating. Life doesn’t make much sense, when things are calm, silent… I really suffered trauma. This relationship has been seriously Traumatic for me.

Now that anticipation, the need to guess what’s going to happen, essentially the need to know what’s going to happen next,has no use now. It’s hard to believe. My body and my synaptic connections don’t believe it yet. And I’m kind of a prisoner in my body, and of my synaptic habits.

I’m really going to have to get up in the morning and try to be aware, aware that I am alone. That there’s nobody here who can hurt my feelings. That my choices don’t have to be made in anticipation of or in reaction to anything. Only to my needs and wants. And my responsibilities.

I wish you the best tomorrow Shantelle. I love you, and I will try to be there, being aware. I will try. I’m sorry I’m not very good yet. But I’ll work on it