Hi, pals)
It was really hard for me to write this post. I've been hesitating a lot before posting this. It turned out to be way too personal. But I felt like I finally had to take it out because there's just too much to keep inside.
It's just more for me to let it out.
I'm sorry about this.
First, it was hard to admit another defeat. And I don't understand what I missed this time.
Long story short I went just on the epic binge. Severe cold, temperature, coughing, no gym undermined my immature AV-defense and I surrender.
I sabotaged myself. Again. Sabotaged badly. And sabotaged exactly when I was few steps away from achieving my goal.
Who knew - this "harmless" and silly binge eating turned out to be the tip of a huge nasty iceberg.
Now I know I have to be on guard all the time. 24/7. Because I got too close to the cave of the beast, and there's nothing it wouldn't try to escape his death and hide my real self from myself.
It uses now dirty tricks and" big guns".
My issues appeared absolutely distinctly to me: I AM SURE I DON'T DESERVE A GOOD LIFE. My deep-rooted beliefs and patterns block me from achieving my goals. I just tracked this pattern. I screw up deliberately few steps away from what achieving what I want. The life I want is prohibited. Illicit. Disallowed. Taboo.
I can’t aim too high. It is not approved. Not allowed.
And deep inside I hear my Mom's voice.
I am afraid that if I am Badass, I will never get her improvement, I will never gain her love again. Because that's not the way she wants me to be. Still. Yes, I use the present tense here, though my Mom passed away 9 years ago.
All these years' I've been living with a tremendous sense of guilt that I hadn't done enough to make her life better, to fight her disease. (I lost her to cancer).
I've been working with therapist through all this. It's better now but still sometimes I can't cope with it.
I spent almost all night today writing a letter to her. I wanted to tell her everything that I couldn't tell back then. Once I grew up, we were never being able to have somewhat "constructive" conversation. If there was anything she didn't approve she just burst into hysterics, and that was her way to stand her ground - leaving me no opportunity to speak out my point of view.
Apparently I failed all the expectations she had pinned on me.
I don't know how the situation turned out with me being always guilty. I am the only one who's always guilty as charged.
My childhood is the part of life I would like to erase and burn out forever. I'd agree to have a big ugly scar even, but I want all the memories dead.
When I was 11 I was abused by my brother. I didn't tell my Mom because I wanted to protect her. She had a life hard enough, and I thought it would totally break her heart.
I know, it was a mistake. But, come on, I was a kid. And saw her struggling for life. I thought I was strong enough to cope with it myself.
Things got worse.
Anyway, my Mom died never knowing what happened.
When the pain of loss passed and lost its sharpness I realized that part of me hates her because of what happened.
Because she was always accusing me of a lot of crap not even knowing what I'd been through all this time. That a lot of times she preferred to turn a blind eye on what was happening. Because there was so much hatred in our house.
I honestly don't know why that is me who is emotionally tortured and torn apart constantly, while my brother seems to have a good time in life. And now I have to face this ******* and play "business-as-usual" in order to resolve these property issues, while the only thing I really want to do is to beat him senseless with my own bare fists.
Why is that me who is living with this sense of guilt because I both love and hate my Mom - and what kind of a person can do it?
Really. What kind of a person is pictured if referred to as hating her passed-away Mom and being not able to forgive her. And that's the feeling I wake up with every morning for the last 9 years. Ok, most of the mornings.
I can't bring myself to forgive her.
But somehow, I'm still seeking her love and improvement. And still can't get over it.
About 3-4 months before she passed away, I accidentally overheard her conversation with our neighbor - the person she rarely ever spoke before. She called me a monster. Talking to a stranger.
I was crashed, bewildered, taken aback. I didn't understand - why???? Yes, I am not perfect, far from being perfect. But monster? Really??
I wanted to shout out that I know the person who deserves this name much more than me. But I kept my mouth shut because though I did want let it out, I realized there was no point in telling her at that point when nothing could be done.
For a long time after she passed away I kept turning it on and on in my head: "Why? What did I do so terrible to call me a monster?".
I know that terminally ill people often don't realize what they are saying, but still.
Anyway.
All this time I feel like I'm constantly, everlastingly looking for evidence that I am not a monster.
As an attorney I am collecting pieces of evidence, finding witness to prove otherwise.
Like this court hearing is held every day. And every day the prosecutor has the one and only crashing evidence - my Mom calling me a monster. The closest person in the wolrd stamped me with this. And I have to come up with some hell of evidence to gain back my right to live and move on instead of poisoning myself with constant and destroying sense of guilt.
And evidence seems never good enough.
Now when I am looking deeper into this issue I can hear it distinctly.
Every time I am getting close enough to my goal. To making my life really better. To get to know and finally meet the real authentic me, this voice comes up. "You are a monster. You have no right to have a good life. You have to beat yourself up because you don't deserve anything but hard life and pain. You have to sit tight and redeem your guilt".
And I feel like I have nothing to set against it.
Under this "harmless" and "not so serious" overrating tremendous force of self-hatred and self-destruction hides.
I am punishing myself. Ruthlessly. I used to punish myself with wine. Now I follow the same pattern with food.
Yes, sweets won't kill me, but this emotional pain and self-destruction does kill me. Every day. Silently. Making my life a constant hell.
Unfortunately, I can't afford regular sessions with my therapist right now because my finances are... well, could be better to put it mildly.
But I have to get over it. I have. I have no choice but to do it. I've just looked at all my life, at these 9 years - it wasn't life. It was constant escape from pain, fight with sense of guilt, constant analyzing what I did wrong and looking for permission to start my own life at last. Guilt that never existed but somehow I was charged with. And I believed I was responsible for all this.
I still don't know how to deal with it.
But I think I have to make it all simpler.
I am tired of overcomplicating things.
Yes, I am a complicated human being, but...
But I have to survive. Period. And while I am figuring my way out of this mess I have to keep it simple.
How simple? Basically simple. As simple as it only could be.
1. I have body. It needs energy. Energy is taken from food. It's that simple.
2. My brain needs endorphins and emotional relief. Ok, I like exercising.
3. My brain builds biochemical electromagnetic paths every time I experience or think anything. And it builds patterns.
They say you can't destroy a pattern. Your best choice is to develop a new pattern and draw attention to the new one. Ok, then I'll do it.
4. I have to work on this every day. Never lose my focus. Never underestimate my beast. I am developing a new pattern. It will take time to build it large and massive enough to over shade the old ones.
It's simple.
No more "mysterious soul BS".
I want my life simple. I just simply want my life.
And one more thing. All this love I've been seeking. There's been always some pity involved. Not sure if it makes sense, but, ok. it makes to me.
You are right. I don't deserve pity. I deserve love. Just love. Unconditioned. Free of expectations. Free of charges. Just Love.
Simple. Isn't it?
Again, sorry, pals, for pouring all this here. But I cried tonight because pain was unbearable again.
I feel much better now.
Ok, Beast, meet the Badass Midnight. Wanna advice? Find yourself a corner. Hide. She has no mercy for you.
I think I need to start for a scratch. Re-read my Big Plan. Make new commitment. Take it seriously.
Because it is serious. For me.
P.S. If tattoo was my cup of tea, I think I would make one saying “Badass” to constantly remind me to stay in line. I think - maybe a silver bracelet with Badass carving?
See you tomorrow pals.
I’ll be fine. I know. I am confident. Tomorrow will be a new day. It will be a good day.
By the way. It’s midnight at my place - it means that I’ve just hit my 8-months sobriety milestone. Not bad, after all)