Hallelujah – we do NOT belong together

There comes a point when sitting still with discomfort suddenly doesn’t feel as if it is enough anymore. From deep within comes the an urge break through something and shake things up a bit…

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There comes a point when sitting still with discomfort suddenly doesn’t feel as if it is enough anymore. From deep within comes the an urge break through something and shake things up a bit.

This is where I have arrived now. The ball is put into motion and can’t be stopped any longer. Without thinking it takes me along on its own journey. before I used to schedule all my have tos, but not anymore. Somehow they are sneaking themselves in higher and higher up – as if it has become a game to bust them all together.

This week I could give myself a high five for, after ten years of official absence, being a paid professional writer again. One should never underestimate the feeling of a work well done. It makes you want more no matter if it is more clients, know new people, mastery of some sort or simply just to really genuinely connect.

I surprise myself by even go back and dig for rejections, just to ensure I picked up on all small points to improve, as well as taking in what was said enough to notice the majority is actually positive. Very positive even.

And neither even feels bad.

It just helps me to see clearly were to go deeper and niche in.

From a long life of people please and trying to be there for everything and everybody it is a breath of fresh air to be able to distinctively say I am this and you are that. We can like each other – but from a far. We DO NOT belong together, so let’s not even try. Hallelujah.

I don’t know how it happened, but it just shifted. I can notice the discomfort – and move on to my own path.

Despite the discomfort I am moving forward.

Finding my way home. 302 signals to go.

Image courtesy to www.dreamstime.com/free-photos

Pumping vein

On my way out I realize I am several meters ahead of her. In my head I am running away from there…

The vein is pumping over my right eye.

It is one of the post traumatic stress symptoms I still get sometimes.

If I leave it be it will take a hold of a forth of the scull and keep it in and iron grip – something along the lines of migraine.

But it doesn’t get that final grip today.

Today I am stopping half way and take care of myself.

I had to revisit something old and something traumatic. Something I tried to pretend was “really nothing”.

I have a few of those.

My daughter comes with me, so I am not alone. It feels better.

Just the building creates a reaction in me. Without even speaking or interacting with anyone.

On my way out I realize I am several meters ahead of her. In my head I am running away from there.

I stop and wait for her.

The world is safe and we can walk out in normal speed.

On our way home the pain in the eye starts. Like a mail in the post.

I do my normal shores and put on some tea. Put some sugar in it. Anything that I know will calm me a little. That feels familiar. Safe.

I go over my day in my head. Did everything go perfect? No. Did I miss anything? Yes a few things. Did I achieve the most important stuff? Yes I did. Did I do my best? Did I move anything forward at all? Yes I did – so it is OK.

Between me and myself maybe tomorrow I can improve just a little bit.

I am coming home. Slowly. 313 signals to go.

Image courtesy to Hyena reality at www.freedigitalphotos.net

OK and not OK

Not OK is that I have stopped to tolerate just about anything…

Today things have been both OK and not OK.

I am slowly , but surely, sorting out all papers related to my mother’s death. One thing per week is the speed we go by, but it feels ok. I can acknowledge that I am moving forward without being totally over-whelmed. So that is ok.

Not OK is that I have stopped to tolerate just about anything, which I used to do with an addicted parent and so on. My chaos and mental pain tolerance used to be way above any normal and sane person. That said this in-tolerance could be seen as a good sign – however my kids complain – and in particular 1 of them.

Even though I know I am doing the right thing it it is hard sometimes. I am an adult. This is my home. She is also an adult – at least on the paper – and this is suppose to be on equal terms and not any you-owe-it-to-me-I-can-do-what-I-want-terms…the temporary turmoil does bring me down from time to time.

I don’t mind failing or being vulnerable, but I want to feel that when I am at home I am safe and I can have peace of mind – and quiet. My sub concious has been so over-worked around my mother in so many years it is like I have to retrain my brain , that I don’t have to have all sensors on, all the time, all days of the week anymore.

Last year about this time I did some fearless training. That was how I started actually. Learning yoga and about my own fears and how to re-train. Best is to do it 3 times they say – so maybe it is time to do it again. That is my tomorrow.

Now we sit here – she and I – writing with our computers and sharing a chocolate. Peace at last. For the moment. Maybe it is not only me who needs to find a new way home.

329 signals to go.

Image courtesy to Graphic Mouse at FreeDigitalPhotos.net