Journaltastic

I had the most AMAZING experience last night. Allow me to elaborate…

I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve been feeling kinda kvetchy lately, all mucked up and tizzwazzy about things and it has been bugging me hugely. I have been feeling yucky about myself, my body, my life (oh, that is everything!)

What has this got to do with anything then Wormy – huh? HUH? HUH?

Well…. last night I was getting undressed and I looked in the mirror; saw my l’il naked body and thought, “UGH.” So I asked myself, “Why ugh, l’il Wormy?” and the response was, “It’s a failure.”

Hmmmmmm…. Serious journaling time called for me thinks.

Well what did you find then L’il Wormy?

After quite a lot of writing – some pretty darn interesting stuff let me tell you.

  1. Rather than digging deeper into the whys and wherefores of my body feeling like a failure, I decided instead to look below that and see the fear, and comfort it. It didn’t matter why it was there or what its purpose was. I decided that all that mattered was that it was there and it needed comforting with something other than food. I wrote some very loving thoughts to it and that is when it emerged:
  2. My fear is a little child. Me, to be precise, aged approximately 5-6 years old. I have long hair and a penchant for bows, being pretty and girly and very, very creative. All my fear wants is to be totally accepted unconditionally, trusted and recognised as a valid voice in my life. Instead of shining a glaring light on my fear every time it pops up and tearing it to pieces as I try to get to the bottom of what is holding me back right now, I realised my fear wants comfort, love and safety.
  3. My fear wants a safe haven of love. So I gave her one. A place to blossom and grow – not as fear, but into the voice inside that will provide a safe and trustworthy steer in times of need. This safe place has a tree in it…and a wendy house with a big garden. My little girl creates magic in this garden and plays and plays and plays all day. She has a big box of paints and as many canvasses as she desires. Plus makeup, pretty girly makeup.
  4. My fear needs to paint more. Oh yes, I do in fact create wonderful great big swirly paintings, full of colour, life and energy. Sometimes. Then I tell myself they’re crap. I have also spent my whole life very loudly telling myself that there is absolutely no point in doing anything creative because it will get me nowhere. It is worth noting that I am also an incredible seamstress (I made my sister’s wedding dress and veil for heaven’s sake), a poet and many other creative people all rolled into one. I refuse to accept my creativity into me, feeling sure that it will lead to disappointment and failure (there’s that word again). I need to accept my creativity into me – with absolutely no judgement or expectation, wanting it to only be a part of me which is fully loved and appreciated as such.
  5. My fear is lonely. As a child of that age, from what I can remember, I was pretty isolated out on the farm without kids of my own age to play with regularly. The little girl inside me wants friends. Last night I gave her some, a little girl named Molly and a little boy named Peter. She has short, dark curly hair and he has blonde hair in a pudding bowl hairstyle. I do not know why they’re called Molly and Peter; I don’t really care either to be honest. I do know that my little girl inside immediately felt loved and happy when these two little friends showed up to spend time with her all day in her garden. They keep her company and play happily alongside her, dabbling away in the finger paint.

Has anyone else ever been compelled to give their fear playmates, a wendy house, trees and a garden? I’m not belittling it, far from it as this feels like a really powerful thing for me to do, but this feels pretty unique and I’m wondering if it really is?

So you are saying that your fear is loveable?!

Yup! Let me tell you, when I saw that little girl all I knew is that she wanted, needed and deserved a mommy and a hug. She was tiny and so vulnerable. She wanted to be able to talk and be listened to. She wanted to be accepted wholeheartedly as herself.

As fear.

This is not my inner child. This is my inner voice of rejections, insecurity and loneliness. This is my fear of failure, my need and yearning to be heard. This is every want and need I have ever had and not dared to express for fear of failure or doom. This was a powerful message that these things want, need and deserve to be acknowledged and accepted into my life with love and no conditions. Simply as part of me.

They do not need solving or resolving, unpicking, getting to the bottom of – none of this. In fact, they are likely to shrink from the light and cringe under a rock.

They need love and acceptance and this is something that I can do, that I can give. This is something that I am very good at and it makes me very happy to know this. It is fair to say that I am very excited.

Oh Happy Day J

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Oi! You big Sissy – Buck UP and start ignoring these feelings

In a flash of insight this morning whilst engaging in a little internal dialogue I realised I’m scared. What of? Of everything.

To avoid the scared-ness I achieve, get busy, do things, any things.

If I sit with it I feel dragged down and overwhelmed by it. I am so scared that I am not *enough* of anything. Really – anything. Not noticeable, not memorable, not worth remembering, listening to, considering, loving. Put me up for comparison with anyone and I like to shrink away from it completely because I know that there is no way that someone would choose me over the person I’m being compared with.

I don’t even feel sad as I type this. Just a relief at noticing it. This way at least I know why I’ve been wanting comfort of every sort lately, comfort food, comfort bed, avoidance.

We tend to run away from these sorts of feelings – they’re terrible aren’t they? People say to us in comfort – How can you say that, it’s just not true? Oh sweetie, you’re wonderful, don’t fill your head with thoughts like these. Well, I love you – that’s one person, so there have to be more, and so on.

The thing is – we do feel like this. It doesn’t make us bad people, weak people. It doesn’t make it true.

The feelings are still there, needing to be acknowledged and given their say, no matter how ugly and unacceptable they seem.

When I was busy making peace with my body and food a few years ago I journalled madly every time I ate anything, letting the feelings out. It worked really well, I healed remarkably quickly, lost the weight I had put on and stopped feeling guilty about eating anything and everything.

These days I tend to forget that I’ve made a lot of progress over the years and that feelings will come back to visit me, so when I find myself comfort eating I try not to panic, but really I do, suspecting at the back of my mind that I’m in for a relapse, unwanted weight gain and loss of identity.

When I stand up for myself and make a decision or take an action that is truly for me, even though I may be disappointing another, I tell myself it’s all very good progress. Whilst at the back of my mind, being stuffed down with food, is the fear that I’ve made a mistake and that I’m wrong. That I’ve ruined my chances for ever because that was my one chance and I’ll only ever get one chance because that’s all I deserve.

Actually the fear is that I don’t deserve to find love at all because I’m so rubbish.

Going deeper and really giving this time I hear an answer which is ” because nobody loves me.”

What I mean by this statement is – because I haven’t found my prince, my true love, my one and only, sweep me off my feet man. I note I am blaming myself for this. It’s obviously because I’m abhorrent that I haven’t found this guy. Of course.

I don’t even know where to go with this, I’m just surprised to find out that I blame myself entirely for not being loved by all and sundry and most especially for not having found myself a suitable man to love.

My word this year is Love, so I guess it’s good to get to the bottom of underlying beliefs that may get in the way. I feel like I’m back in the person I was all those years ago, feeling pretty hopeless, knowing only that this needs to be realised and acknowledged.

After conversations with my Third Chakra…

Two things occurred to me today:

  1. I don’t want to move forward out of a safe zone because it’s safe and known.

    Why have I not got out of my bed and got on my bike in the sun? Because my bed is safe, known, warm and cozy, and I am also quite exhausted. I may fall off my bike (due to riding like a loony, it’s the only way that’s fun for me; like Phoebe running in Friends) and I am scared of hurting my body.

    I do not “have time” to look at my Dance of Shiva stuff, read and do exercises from a book etc because actually, I don’t want to move forward all that much right now. Where I am right now is nice and safe and known.

    I don’t even really want to go into detail on this stuff because I’m feeling like I just want to be SAFE. To uncover it would be to initiate change.

    That’s enough change thank you. That’s enough learning thank you.

    What’s that? Oh, you mean that if I want to move forward I might need to look at a bit more stuff? But I don’t waaaaaaaannnnnnt to. WAH.

    It’s tiring, exhausting. It leaves me raw and stripped bare.

    My mind and heart are constantly occupied by uncovering stuckness and getting to know the new me.

    Every day of being true to myself requires a reserve of courage and love and it’s there, but I also want a little rest please? PLEASE?

    Thank you.

  2. On being me- I’m afraid to fully take up the mantle of being me. I know who I am – I am magnificent, bold, incredibly perceptive, courageous, intelligent, kind and strong.

    I am also nervous to step into those shoes in case I put anyone’s nose out of joint and get told to shut up and stop being so arrogant. Which Results in me becoming anxious, insecure, indecisive and non-forthcoming.

    I greatly suspect if I really was myself, undaunted by self doubt, I could take over the world. My world at least.

    However, I shrink from this great display and exhibitionism because after all, who am I to think I deserve this?

It’s interesting to me to uncover these two beliefs guarding my life today, because neither of them had even occurred to me until today.

The bed one came to me very quickly when I questioned myself on it and the Who am I to be myself one when I wrote a reply to Havi’s comment on my post yesterday and inadvertently had a conversation with my third chakra which surprised me.

It’ll be even more interesting to me to see where these realisations take me. For now, I’m staying in bed until I’m ready to get up.

The Answers you get when you try listen to your body.

Ha ha. I totally freaked my body out the other night.

 I was lying in bed with my head all in a tizzwazz, full of jumbled up thoughts and thinking, “I HAVE to sort this mess out. I CAN’T go on like this. WHY is this up to me to sort out? Blahdeblahdeblah.”

Then I thought to myself, “I know, I’ll try a little of my own advice. I’ll ask my body what it wants to do. I’ll listen to some other parts of me than just my head.” So:

 

ME: Body, hello. You know this rubbish in my head yeah?

BODY:    Hello. Why are you talking to me? This is very strange to be talked to.

ME: Is it? That’s interesting. Anyway, back to business, I’m hoping for your steer on things really. You know, on this tizzwazz in my head.

BODY: (*&(^*&%&*^%£%£^$^&%*$£^!!! HUH? Dude – you just spoke to me. Your BODY. You know I’m a collection of limbs and skin right? Just limbs and skin and some other stuff.

ME: Yes, I do want your input. I think it could help.

BODY: ^%£^%£&%*%^£&*()**%(&$!!!! HUH???

ME: Look the stupid incredulous thing is losing its charm. Your opinion please.

BODY: Seriously, you’ve just asked me for an opinion for the first time ever. Sorry, but it’s going to take me a while to get over the shock.

ME: Oh fine then! Sod off to you too. I’m going to sleep if you’re going to be like that.

 

So that went well huh? J


Vulnerability + Intense Scrutiny = Heightened Sensitivity.

I never noticed how much I struggle to express myself until I wrote about it at length in a desperate bid to rid myself of a sore throat.

I’m exhausted tonight, from a combination of extremely heightened sensitivity, too much alcohol and lack of sleep, and as per usual when I’m exhausted, I’m feeling rawer (I did not know that was even a word – but apparently it is) than the entire stock of a butcher’s counter.

Starting with the heightened sensitivity

After I had my heart all trampled on and broken in October (I am in drama queen mode) I started writing openly about wanting to find someone who, well, basically wouldn’t do that to me when I went and fell in love with them. In doing so, I’ve been learning lessons by the bagful about loving myself, accepting myself, being safe with my feelings and, of course, recently – feeling safe expressing myself. All of which have been wonderful to learn because they’ve been gentle lessons, rather than the normal run-me-over-with-a-tank lessons I am so fond of learning.

I wasn’t expecting to be asked out by someone so soon after putting my stuff out there and I wasn’t expecting the ensuant onslaught of vulnerability dredged up from the murky waters of my Self. (Having referred to the chaotic workings of my mind and emotions as “Self” my Cheese Rating has now shot off into orbit.) Furthermore, said person who asked me out is also from work and my work colleagues, god love ’em, are essentially children with a new toy in the playground when it comes to gossip. Never believe anyone who wants to tell you that women are overly fond of gossip, because once you’ve seen grown men reacting to gossip fodder with the glee and idiocy expressed by my boys, you’ll realise that it is in fact men who are the gossip mongers of this world, or perhaps just my world. Knowing that I would have the piss taken out of me in glorious fashion when it came to light that we were dating, and feeling vulnerable about the whole thing, I was naturally reluctant to let on that we’d been seeing each other. So when I was invited to the contractor’s (aka “THE ENEMY”) black tie dinner dance fancy posh do thingamagumy and it came to light that I was going, all merry hell broke loose and I endured a day of endless fishing for information and embarrassing father-like treatment. I’d like to point out that my actual father was never that embarrassing, and all efforts to clean his shot gun on the living room floor when I was bringing gentlemen friends home pale in comparison.

I feel like a very interesting bacterium under a microscope with a whole roomful of scientists pushing and shoving to have a look. It is not nice.

It makes me want to squirm.

Not because I’m embarrassed to be there (I’m not, I’m delighted) but because it’s my private business and I’d like to conduct it as such. I.e. without a bunch of nosey bastards making smart assed comments every twenty minutes and feeling smug about it. I do not feel strongly about this, no.

Vulnerability + Intense Scrutiny = Heightened Sensitivity.

Too much alcohol and lack of sleep

This is due to the aforementioned dinner dance fancy posh do thingamagumy and I shall waste no further time boring you with details.

So actually on to the point of this post perhaps?

I’m feeling all raw; emotionally and physically hung over and sensitive for it. I think it’s making me paranoid. I’m sitting with all these paranoid buttons pushing themselves. I’m going to try and express them.

  1. I’m feeling like I can’t do anything right at home and I’m feeling very unapproved of. This is difficult for me to sit with because my people pleasing tendencies are strong (like an ox) within me. This is due to a conversation I had last week where it turned out that just by being myself I managed to upset someone very close to me. I apologised for the part I played in it, but now feel like it is all my fault and am struggling to keep perspective over the Your shit – My shit issues. Especially because my shit is now being triggered and I feel like I’m being told off for everything. I rather suspect this is because I feel like this is how I deserve to be treated rather than because it’s the truth. I want to start throwing accusations around now, because that would just be easier. None the less, I think I need to give this whole thing a little more attention than I’ve been able to recently. Until then, I’m giving myself permission to feel like a paranoid wreck whilst trying to not act like one and go into full people pleasing please-desperately-like-me mode.
  2. I’m also scared that if I move forward with this relationship (the dating one, not the friendship one above) I will be asked to give up my identity. Again, I recognise this as my fear rather than the truth of the matter. I don’t actually think this will happen because my sense of identity has grown so much stronger recently and I’m very clear on my wants and priorities. But STILL…
  3. All mixed up. Like a smoothie in a blender before it becomes a smoothie and after it is chunks of yummy fruit in a blender jug. In transition. Facing change. Is there anyone out there who actually likes change? I mean really likes it rather than just accepting that good stuff comes out of it too.

Oh look – there’s no point to this post. It’s mostly about me feeling all paranoid and that being a big thing because I’m excessively tired. How exciting. I’m also into self deprecation when I’m tired. I’m going to bed.

The other side of stuck

Inspired by the responses to my stuck I began to have a good think about it. Okay… I was ceaselessly “having a good think” about it anyway, but the comments helped with a different angle.

It occurred to me that I could be guilty of being too protective of myself. You know; when you’re so worried about something happening you end up shutting out any experience so that you can stay where you are, in a known space. It may not be the place you want, it may not be making you happy, but it is known and therefore safer than the unknown.

The end of my last relationship left me incredibly hurt and shook up. The beginning of it though was magic. I was so open to that person, so happy to share myself and to have that reciprocated. It was easy to fall in love and it felt heady, magical and very, very precious. So the ending, when it came, abruptly and in a most confused manner was, frankly, bloody awful.

Not surprising then that I’m anxious to not feel that way again.

However, I do want to feel the way I felt at the beginning again. That was marvelous. It follows then, that I’m going to need to be that open again.

Perhaps not that open. But more open to experiences than I have been recently.

I’m quite pleased with myself actually over the way I’m handling myself with this whole new dating experience. I am being careful to ensure that I listen to the scared voice inside and I am happy to give myself permission to feel whatever I need to feel around it. At the same time, I am conscious that I want to move forward and to do so I need to take a risk.

So I’m taking the risk when I’m absolutely sure I’ve listened to all the issues around my feelings. Then I sort out the ones that are relevant and have some sense, identify the ones that are pure panic and decide how I’m going to move forward whilst protecting my boundaries. So far so good.

Then when I got into work this morning… somehow my lovely colleagues (whom I normally adore BTW) had found out that I had been asked out to the “enemy’s” (aka the contractor) dinner dance and who had asked me. They moved in for the kill. I’m still fighting though…. They shall not best me – no sir!

Stuck of the Day

It’s called doubting yourself. That thing you do when you incessantly question what is going on in your life.

I’m doing it now. I have been doing it since Saturday night. Unsure if I’m making the right decisions and feeling very, very worried about it.

Checking in with my heart and finding a big yes.

Checking in with my head and finding a big I dunno, ooooh, eep, yikes.

I know I’m supposed to follow my heart, because apparently this holds the truth. HOWEVER, my head says things like “I know I’m supposed to follow my heart, because apparently this holds the truth” and then I find myself in a quandary.

I guess the core of the matter is that I’m petrified of being hurt again. In spite of the distinct remoteness of this happening, I am still doing an impersonation of something that is trying to avoid going forwards by backpedalling madly whilst still moving forwards. You can just picture it can’t you – oh the joy of being succinct.

So if I don’t want this fear to define me or define how I am going to move forward now, how do I make it less scary? That’s what I want to know.

I can let it be okay to be scared, and okay to not want to move forward because of that stuck fear. However, if I do not want to be defined by this fear it still means I need to move forward…..aaaaannnnnnddddd start the cycle again. STUCK feeling scared and worried and wanting to run back to where I came from and was habiting.

I think sometimes trust can seem to be a risk and therefore trusting yourself can seem unsafe. I’m going to go ahead anyway though and do the trusting thing. I think I might owe it to myself.