Thursday, July 9, 2015

Thirteen years

Thirteen years ago today, my mother lost her life to ovarian cancer. I was seventeen, a few months shy of eighteen.

Her life had not been easy. It made my life not easy. My sole purpose had been to get her to love me back. I knew she loved me of course, kind of... But I rarely felt it.

So when she died, Chance died.  I was this ghostsoulthing that still somehow had a body.

For a long time, I knew nothing but two extremes: numbness or pain. I patched a new life out of friends, community college, underage drinking, smoking, and eating junk.

My life in the last thirteen years has consisted of a chain of major relationships, with little more than a couple months in between. Even though my mother was dead, my sole purpose remained fairly fixed: to be someone that other would love. What I wasn't aware of was a silent add on: " ... At any cost."

That add on phrase is no longer silent to my awareness. It's danger is clear to me now. And on the anniversary of my mom's death, I'm mourning the consequences of that danger come to manifestation with a connected awareness I've never had before.

It only took thirteen years and losing the most important people in my life four times to freaking get what I've been doing.

I'm tired of getting myself into these situations. My heart is getting too weary and I'm getting too old for this shit in this brief existence.

So, I'm going upstream to do a code rewrite. I'm letting go of the purpose that didn't serve well. Laying it to rest next to my mother and the others.

I hope that having the awareness will make the next generation code better than its unintentional predecessor.

Sunday, July 5, 2015

Choosing Me, Delving Deep

1. Why did I choose me over us/him?

The tipping point - I developed an emotionally intimate, potentially romantic connection with another person other than him. Why? Why would I do that? How could that have been possible?

I realized it's because something profound was missing between us, and had been a core major source of my sudden anxiety attacks. So what was missing? Emotional intimacy, truth, acceptance. I did not fully understand this until much unfolding and validation.

Then I asked, why had that happened if we loved each other so very much? Was it because I had not discussed it with him? No, that wasn't it. We'd discussed ad nauseum. Over 5 years. It was that as a result of those discussion I compromised something I had no clear awareness was super critical to me. Emotional intimacy, truth, acceptance -- all of that equates to meaning. Devoid of meaning, I was out of alignment with my purpose. Things felt off and I couldn't really dial it in.

Well, if it was my purpose, then why couldn't I figure it out? Because, I've neglected myself in favor of others my entire life. Never really granting myself permission to be myself nor explored who that was. As an empath, this combination destroys, smothers out any semblance of chance I have at being Chance, knowing her. If I don't know her, how can I be the best person? The lover, the supporter, the friend, the awesome human I want to be?

Matched with my deep love for him and his resistance to compromise from his side, I'd continue compromising and smothering myself in endless pursuit for external fulfillment that would never come, with meaning muted too low to nourish my parched roots.

2. What's really working in life?

These all work some of the time, especially if I can muster the energy:

Deep, analysis/solution based thinking
Reaching out to mentors and friends
Speaking out
Focusing on myself and the connections that support my journey and success
ASMR videos
Learning more (about self, others, things)
Reading up on the topic
Trying out new things
Self compassion
Anything that helps me accept myself

3. What's not really working and how would I like it to be different?

Oversnacking, an old habit
Deep, destructive thinking
Overreliance on others (including my ex)
Self harm

As for how I'd like it to be different - I'd want to be stronger and find other ways to soothe myself when it feels like everything but suicide.

4. Who is the most important person in my life? If not me, why? Am I willing to make it me?

It has rarely been me. Because I was brought up to believe that I do not matter, that I'm not worth the affection, love, effort. Then I went on to relationships and life situations that perpetuated that, let me rest my pain in those connections, rather than heal them.

But that's what this journey is about. Radical shifting to self nurturing which feels wrong and selfish, but I'm ignoring that for now.

5. What do I need more of?

Everything in #2, more exploration, slow development of healthy relationships

6. What could get in the way? What do I need to say no to?

Hasty decisions around relationships
Long term romantic relationships (for now)
Impulsive things like retail therapy, too much food

Well meaning folks & self scalping for survival

Well meaning folks don't know better. 

Think bad thoughts? Just say fuck you and think good thoughts. It's not as though I don't already use this technique. But sometimes that switch does not work. Sometimes yoga doesn't work. Music. Writing. Errand running. Distraction. 

Like today.

I am burning alive, completely on fire. 

And - true to rule # 2 - no one and nothing cares. 

No one can or wants to be with me while I burn. But I guess, they don't know. They don't hear me lay aside my pride to ask for their presence, like the therapist suggested. Because my own water supply just isn't enough today. And I am too much for everyone today. Too much. Always. 

And, because well meaning folks, they don't know better. And when the fire is raging, it's hard to find a voice loud enough to cry for help. Maybe I didn't ask for it right.

The only one calling me back is an IPA and the phone alarm I set for laundry.

That and the thoughts again - I am not worth it. I am not worth the effort. Who am I to deserve that kind of love or support? From them let alone myself? I was not meant for this.

I don't want to type the other thoughts. They make me want to seriously quit on normal life and check myself in somewhere with drugs that dull it all away.

I am my mother's daughter. But. I DON'T WANT TO QUIT. All threads to hang on to are fucking loose. So I'm scratching out clumps of my scalp and using my own hair. The blood makes it too slick to get a good grip though. I want to get through this.

Maybe I need to hit rock bottom like I did as a teenager. Then, I'll realize I am all I've got. I'm strong enough. Maybe stronger, when I think about it. I've lived through fucking hell, through looking at the edge too sharp to be that close to flesh.

If I did it at 16, I can do it again, but fucking better - hell maybe this time I don't need to hit the bottom. I just need to hit myself in the temple and remember how much shit I've gone through.