I have been using twitter to connect with my emotions and today I found this. My heart is starting to thaw. I made a number of emotional connections last week and am starting to realise that the very very strange feeling I have is like a thaw. I cannot label it at all , its like a mixture of relief, sadness, regret, optimism, love, and who knows what all rolled into one. I feel scared, shaky and vulnerable but in a good way. So what else does a girl do in the modern world when faced with lack of knowledge Google it. So google tells me it is thawing of frozen feelings. The general response I have when in a stressful situation is to freeze. So now I am starting to thaw.
I wonder if the thaw will be a drip drip or a total flood, only time will tell!
Tonights twitter therapy consisted of : cards ,expectations ,visions, shine. The final thing that resonated with me was Stars cannot shine without darkness. Drunken texting is bad but perhaps drunken blogging is worse. Just in from a second night out on the trot and am still enjoying life despite being back at work. No entirely drunk of course but more than a little tipsey. I am such an adorable drunk, I love everyone and just want to tell them all how wonderful they are but in fact tonight was just lovely. I have been trying to get away from my default of oh no I cant do that its not for me type of conditioning. I am learning to relax and make small talk when I go out. I am learning to no longer be defined by my roles and my career to be more than the sum of my parts. I had forgotten what it was like to be able to feel part of the world, what it was like just to go out have fun, meet people and feel that I was good enough as I am. But tonight I realised that I could be comfortable to be myself and not to worry too much about the expectations of others. Music, art and generally frivolity without any pressure to be anyone other than me is just so wonderful and yes world I love you all.
And finally it happened, I connected with the emotions of my father issues, my need for his approval and my loss of direction when he died. We all know about things intellectually but finding the emotional key to unlock the feelings can be hard. I found it and it was amazing to work through it. My need for approval stems entirely from my need to please my father and be a good girl. It explains why I have had so much trouble in communicating with male authority figures , especially if they say good girl as my boss does alot. I get very annoyed by that and now I know why. When he dies I found it very difficult to decide what to do as I eventually relied on him to advise me on what to do, that was years after I gave up trying to argue with him. The release was very intense and I realised I genuinely believed that he did not love me unless I did everything he wanted perfectly. In fact now that I have connected with that it might in fact be true. I see my brother doting on his daughter and how wonderful she is, how she is so capable and feisty. I have been encouraging him to think about the impact his expectations will have on her and perhaps not to be so driven by how she tries so hard to please. She reminds me very much of myself it is scary.
I wonder what life will be like from now on since I whole heartily approve of myself and am free from needing to please others.
Yesterday was a day of letting go. I listened to my little girl who was scared and hurt. My inner child is 6. She needed is not ready to share what is hurting her, but now she is starting to feel safe she is dropping strong hints. I had a very emotional day yesterday as I decided to visit my fathers grave. I asked someone to go with me and he did. He understood that I needed to feel minded, so few people do. They only see the part of me I am comfortable to show; my capable side, probably why I write this personal blog, to share my vulnerabilities publicly yet anonymously.
I could not find the grave as I had not been back since he was buried I knew I was very close to it and yet could not find it. I felt totally abandoned. I knew I was nearby as I was standing in the place I stood for the funeral. I rang my mother but no answer, then one brother, then the other. I described where I was and he said I was very close I was in fact right next to it but did not see it at all.
Over the last week I have been connecting with what my father meant to me. I tried to please him all my life and always sought his approval. Yet he failed to keep us safe. I realised that I was always slightly scared of him and not being good enough, I held him in awe and yet he failed to do his most important job keep his family safe. I shall be carrying on my visits to graves with two more visits, my maternal grandfather and my uncle. My uncle damaged our family and I think it is time for me to ask him why.
i thought that my dad kept me safe but he didnt, instead he instilled a sense of fear into me which has translated into anxiety. It is ok to admit my failing, it is ok to admit my mistakes, it is ok to have flaws and most important it is ok not to have all the answers.
It was a big step for me to ask for emotional support yesterday and it was even more of a big step for me that I identified and asked someone who did exactly what I needed emotionally. I cried and was left to cry, and he was there to give me a hanky when I needed it too. If I ever share this blog with you I hope you understand just how thankful I am that you supported me when I needed it. I wonder will I be able to identify the correct person to ask for help next time I need it, I hope so.
Over the last week I have just let go a little bit more than normal. Now I feel the fear of the having to cling on tight to reality again. Sometimes I can over think it all. I know I can be in my head to much or in my body too much and then I wish I could find the balance, equilibrium. When will I find it? Is it something that I have to work at or is it something that will just appear? I have not achieved flow this last few days as i was trying to create a soft landing for going back to work but then it hit me, whose voice was i listening to mine or someone else and it was not mine. I killed my voice again. What was my voice saying to me before I killed it? I think is I shall have to ask myself while I redefine reality for myself. I would like my reality to be more fun, less anxiety and a whole heap less of jealousy and irritation. I would like to be my authentic self - where ever she is hiding would she please show herself.
I never connected with my catholic guilt until I was standing in a tiny room with a sacrilegious art installation which explored women's religious induced shame and our conditioning to serve. So I tried something new twitter therapy, I took the word confession, searched it on twitter and then searched the next word that resonated with me until I eventually came to a point where twitter refused to allow me to tweet. Evil evil twitter. The results were interesting and my final word was natural instinct. It was like a stream of consciousness flow but with other peoples thoughts. Today's ones were God, angry, decision, mistakes, care, I care, I, has it going on, Stacy's mom has it going on, no idea, exotic, vacation, stalked, vigioursly, (i cant spell), vigirously, slaps knee, free, dream, hope: result : Hope is a waking dream.
I am on holidays from work at the moment hence the more thoughts and posts then normal. I am also taking a break from counselling so that I experience things for myself and stop puzzling on where my counsellor is taking me. I was becoming a little concerned that my need for approval was leading me on a journey to where she thought I should go so I freed myself until I explore this part of me that seems to be emerging, but I digress.
The experience of being in a small space which mimicked a confession box albeit a tad unusual and the curtain going back really struck a chord with me. I recalled being young and scared and my first panic attack at the age of 6 in the confession box. My inner child work was most successful and I healed much of my stuff from all ages but lately, through my work on daddy issues, I found that the age which resonates with me the most is 6. The age at which I had my first confession. I recall the terror of the small dark enclosed space, the confusion of it all as I started to spin into the dizzying heights of pure anxiety. I did everything I was told, I was obident I did all the normal sibling conflict stuff but essentially I believed I was a good girl and I should not be made to confess like the real bad people , the murderers and those that intentionally hurt others. Even at a young age it was possible to see the hypocrisy of the Church and the political elite of the country, the cronyism and the pervading male dominated society. I had been heavily influenced by the equal rights movement from an early age as the radio was always on in the house and civil rights and women's issues were the main things I connected with.
I confess that I no longer confess to almighty god and to all my brothers and sisters that I have sinned through my own fault and in my thoughts and in my word sin what I have done and what I have failed to do and I ask the blessed Mary ever virgin all the angles and saints to pray for me to the lord our god amen. I do not want all that guilt and shame given to me by my religious upbringing. I was a good little girl and I was right to reject their teachings of my badness.
So now I am off to take my trip to the dark confession boxes of my childhood. I wonder if they are still there. I know they are very much with me in my soul. Perhaps it is time to liberate it from the shadows of catholic guilt and see what life out side of the confines of the confession box is really like. So I am off to explore the dark places of my childhood starting with the confession box I fainted in, yes an extreme panic attack, and the church where I fainted, yes another extreme panic attack. I should probably go to the video arcade I used to visit when I finally escaped from Mass to balance the bad stuff. Or the place where my brother used to park for Mass at Christmas as he knew I could not go. The day my mother told me she no longer expected me to go to Mass was very liberating for me. Being obedient I still felt the need to pretend I was going until I was quite old. Once all the Church scandals broke here she saw what I saw since age 6, an oppressive power hungry bunch of men with little regard for the true vision of the bible and what real Christianity was all about for me. I am no longer a catholic, christian or religious.
So today I will live ponder my twitter therapy's result: Hope is a waking dream .
I finally had the moment that has been trying to get out since October 2008. I can finally lay my father to rest. I tried to visit his grave that day and failed miserably, circumstances got in the way. I now know that we can subconsciously created our own circumstances and perhaps I did. I got the swine flu the day after and it knocked me out. I think it all formed part of my meltdown. My body was trying to get me to stop and take stock of my life and I constantly ignored it. thankfully I took note of the last episode or perhaps I would have got cancer or had a heart attack.
I finally realised that I was waiting for my father to give me permission, that i realied heavily on his judgement, that after spending years of arguing with him as a teenager I just gave up and did as he said, well mostly. When he died I did not know how to trust my own judgement. in fact I found out that he did try in his last years to support some of my crazy ideas when I actually needed him to tell me that they were crazy; he just wanted me to be happy.
My big recreational was that I can trust my judgement and he was just a human being with flaws like us all. I can take him down from his pedestal and realise that I have a mind of my own and instincts of my own for very good reason. I trust myself and I love myself unconditionally.
We often hear the expression;water will find its own level. In the case of water it wants to be as low as possible and perfectly flat and level; totally in balance with all the other drops of water around it. Certain things are water soluble and certain things are not. Oil will mix with it but not dissolve. It simply sits on the surface. I noticed an oil slick on the water the other day. It was beautiful the way the colours glistened and moved. Just one small tiny drop of oil can spread over a considerable area and no matter what it will not dissolve in the water. I have been pondering the realisation that there are people out there alot more like me than I thought. Ages ago I read a book on motivation. It says to find your own tribe; others like you. I have been feeling a little like the ugly ducking for a while now- not fitting into my environment - being laughed at by the other ducks. Currently I am on my journey to find others of my kind. Like the tiny drop of oil I am spreading out seeking the edges of the other shiny sparkly drops. We are not water but together we shine.
So today embrace your tribe or set off to find your true one. Out there somewhere there are more like you.
