Hi Adele,
I’d like to skip this Friday as things are going so well.
I would like to keep next week’s on Friday the 16th at 11 am.
Thank you,
Patricia
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Ok, see you next week 🙂
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Maybe I should come Friday if the time is still open. There are things swimming inside my head that I could use some help clearing up.
Patricia
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Still open! See you Friday at 11.
Adele
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I feel relief that I finally decided to go. Though during the volley of emails I felt very dismayed at my indecisiveness. I don’t want to need anybody, but I know that years of therapy have put me in a better place. Once the exchanges are complete, and she doesn’t seem to think I’m a complete nutter, I feel better knowing I am seeing someone in my corner.
It really doesn’t matter what I talk about for now. Just having a place to do so has settled me. This new medication doesn’t allow for mid-meal snacking so I added more food to each meal to avoid becoming overly hungry during the 4 hour stretch. That soon escalated into too much, too fast, not chewing, and not really been present.
It was more than my wounded stomach could tolerate. Pain woke me and I slept on the couch laying there in fear until it settled down and I fell asleep. This isn’t something that is going away. Even after six weeks when the temporary medication is finished, I must continue this new path; eating with intention. Slowly. Like how I tend to live my life now. I question my self-discipline which is defeated when up against feelings.
After than night I went back to smaller portions, slower eating, and chewing more thoroughly. Anxiety made itself known immediately, anxiety that had been erased with the bad eating. Anxiety. I was eating anxiety. Why?
I wish I hadn’t relayed to brothers any mention of my true feelings, life, and the book.
As I walk the sunny meadow, humid and hot, wiping my face which had moistened from the sun’s kiss, I question that thought, or feeling. Really? I don’t need to live my life continually regretting every action, word, decision, or move.
Come on! I did what I did because an instinct inside needed to. I needed to move forward. But it was so much more pleasant before yet the pretense became intolerable. How do I proceed as the person I am, not the person they want me to pretend to be?
How do I go forward with this aching to be acknowledged for the woman I am and the true trauma’s I overcame; an aching that cripples and won’t be soothed or relieved? And the only answer seems to be in continuing just as before, with as little contact as possible.
Is this how whistle-blowers feel? Ostracized so completely they cannot get their life back? I’ve been ejected from my life; my life of peace, happiness and calm. I’ve been living and reacting out of fear.
This eating pattern has been my custom since age 8, coinciding with Danny’s attack which hasn’t surfaced though I know I was raped. I eat my fears, anxiety, worries, paranoia…I eat my feelings away. Taking away that crutch means feeling them, dealing with them. Sometimes I just can’t. Or won’t.
There are instinctual reasons I choose to live life slower, here at home at my own pace. I read a blog this morning that speaks directly to my issues. That definite changes occur in a child facing stressors such as the death of a parent, abuse of all kinds, alcoholic parents, etc. I experienced all of them. My brain has been changed.
Being reminded that issues I deal with are real, not a failing or character flaw, brings new life to my morning. The red glow drew me like a magnet to the patio, still pajama clad, hoping to capture the beauty unfolding.
Good morning
The photos are beautiful, praying you feel the same about yourself soon. You are experiencing what is normal except you’ve kept this anger eating at you for so long. As your body can tell, the pain eats at you and doesn’t go away. Therapy is how I reached a point of facing the ugliness in my life, it happened, what the hell I felt, what I feel as an adulated how to put aside. Over time I forgave my parents for my own well being, they don’t know it wasn’t something I said. My father killed himself and I chose to cut all ties with my mother. It allowed me to slowly stop thinking everyday about the short end of the stick. I’m 52 and it took most of those years to truly love myself for how I am, not what others think or expect. It was hard because I put on the face my granny wanted me to be, when she died I had to find myself. I have knee jerk emotions or reactions, don’t think they will go away. I don’t know your pain but I feel how deep it runs. It sounds like you beat yourself up quite a bit. I can relate. The trauma that’s happened in my life was not my fault, I feel grateful to say that. I pray God takes your hand, gives you guidance and the strength you need to heal your body. Watch over and give blessing to a beautiful lady how needs you now.
I’m thinking of you.
msandorm@verizon.net if need to go offline
🙂
M
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Your response made my eyes teary. Thank you so much, and thank you for sharing yourself too.
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I am sorry your brothers have disappointed you so deeply. Perhaps, deep inside you always thought they would have been horrified if they knew what your brother was doing to you and would have come to your rescue. And now, they don’t even get angry about it. There is a trait of dysfunctional families I would imagine. Please accept these hugs O O and many thanks for sharing yourself through your blog.
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I accept! Thank you. Your kindness has touched me.
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I wondered what I would talk about this week in therapy, I got in there, and there was no lack of words flowing! It is a good analogy with whistleblowers too!
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Yes, the time went by fast!
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This statement ” that the issues I deal with are real, not a failing or character flaw…” really caught my attention. I have also said, many times, that my depression isn’t real. I don’t have anything to be depressed about, I am just too lazy, self-indulgent, focused on myself, intent on hanging on to the past, or whatever. This evening I have been catching up on various blogs and I see the same sentiment show up there as well. So we not only suffer from depression, but we minimize our suffering and blame it on ourselves too! What a cruel thing trauma is, how much our minds add to our pain.
You, though, you are a beautiful example of learning to accept ourselves and to allow ourselves to go at whatever pace works for us. I’m sure that your example fed into my willingness to let myself quit my job and try a less stressful life. Thank you for writing about that. And thanks for sharing the beautiful photos. They are so peaceful.
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Trauma is cruel, a good way to put it.
A thoughtful and very kind response. Thank you so much…
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You take stunning pictures! You have a very good eye for photos!
I relate so deeply to where you say that you shouldn’t have to regret every word, every action, every move every decision. I feel that I too am so hard on myself and second guess every move I make to the point where I feel so cut off from myself. But that is what the abuse did, cut us off from ourselves so that it’s hard to own anything. And there are moments of deep connection and then deep disconnection. How hard it is!!! And yes these are not character flaws! These are a result of trauma that affects every cell of our being.
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Yes, that is exactly it..
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I wanted to add that it’s ok to need people, at least thats what I am learning and that we had to do so many hard things alone that it’s ok and that it’s not a sign of weakness or flaw. It’s a healthy human need and we are human.
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Yes! I am beginning to see that… : )
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wow, this made me tear up, so relatable. eat my anxiety, eat my fear, eat my feelings, yes, i do that too. xxx
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I’ve done this since age 8.
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I totally relate to that email exchange! Why is it after all the time I spend with my therapist, someone I PAY to talk to, do I worry about bothering her or looking dumb or needy to her? Good to know it’s not just me. Keep on keeping on, girl:)
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I kept on with her until she wasted the first portion of my time there playing with her dog…
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Oh no. God, the hour goes by fast enough as it is. That’s so frustrating. I hope you find who you need. Xo
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