Letting Go

Oh dear god, I have no idea where to start writing this. I am just not coping right now. I don’t know where this resistance is coming from. I want to break free. I have no idea how to though. I am falling back onto habits that don’t help me.

I want to become financially independent.

I want to have super-sexy arms.

I want to be able to run a 9 minute mile. And do a 5 k in under 30 minutes.

I want to be able to prove the people who have made me doubt myself wrong.

I want to be confident.

I want to believe in myself.

I am managing to work out every day, but I need to do more. I need to start bringing it on a work side to.

I am just feeling really over-whelmed right now. I am feeling like an inadequate little kid with a disappointed mother in the background saying you are useless, worthless, not good enough.

I want to make good choices. I don’t want to eat a giant packet of niknaks all by myself and then crawl into bed crying. I want to stop feeling all of this pain. I remember being numb and part of me feels that it is better to be numb but I don’t want to be numb. I don’t want to sabotage my weight loss efforts I am getting close to my first goal of 65kg…but I am hurting myself and I don’t know how to stop.



I have been dreaming about water lately and I took that to signify from my subconscious that perhaps I was ready to deal with the time that I nearly drowned as a kid. And today in therapy, we did just that, and it was one of the most intense experiences of my life. Literally coughing, feeling the water getting pushed out of my lungs, my heart pumping faster and faster to keep up. I was only three and a tiny little mite and did not deserve that experience, and yet when my therapist asked the three year old me whether she decided that she should die, I said no, and when asked why not, I replied that I was stubborn.

One of the most powerful things in hypnosis is the fact that you can talk to parts of yourself, reminding them that they are special and loved.

Just something

It’s funny how memories creep up on you sometimes. For instance, the memory about how clearly I wanted to call bullshit on my mom when she told us, after her mother’s murder, that because we never know when a loved one is going to die that she always says that we must just love one another. But at twelve, all I had was a feeling, the disconnect about what was said and what was acted upon. That love was not unconditional, it was a treat to be doled out, and ripped away as punishment.


From the Four Spiritual Laws of Prosperity

I’m currently working through my issues with a wonderful therapist and she gave me this story adapted from the Four Spiritual Laws of Prosperity by Edwene Gaines, and it is worth sharing:

I was a victim of childhood sexual abuse, so I know full well the devastation that kind of betrayal can cause in a person’s life. From the time I was four months old until I was four years old, I was sexually abused so badly that it almost killed me.

I had a particularly difficult time dealing with the effect it had on my self-esteem, and for many years I played the victim.

I will be eternally grateful for a teacher who one day abruptly called me on my act. In order to heal this childhood trauma, what you’ve got to do is create a new story about it, he told me. Okay, here’s your new story. Try this one on and see if it works for you. You came onto this planet to be a woman of power. Your soul chose this pathway, and because you chose it, you also chose to take an initiation in the misuse of power at a young age. During this initiation you leaned what it feels like when power is misused, and it is horrible. Therefore, it is now safe for you to be a woman of power in the world because you know now that you would never misuse nor abuse this power. And in this process, you have gained the most valuable of all spiritual gifts — the understanding heart.

My world reeled from this and cracked open a bit. It didn’t happen overnight, but little by little, one day at a time, I began to embrace this wonderful new story, a saga that completely reordered my personal history. It made me feel powerful rather than helpless, and it allowed me to give up the role of victim.

It also brought to mind the coaching of another teacher who told me Never ask a ‘why’ question. There are no absolute answers to why questions. But if you absolutely have to ask why, at least have the good sense to make an answer that pleases you.

Reframing the abuse has helped me to achieve peace of mind, and that is a joy.


At the moment the only thing that is allowing me to have some semblance of normality, of sanity is keeping everything tightly wound. So tightly wound that it is unhealthy. Cracks are beginning to show…I’m irritable. I’m scared. I’m scared of the darkness inside my head. The liar inside telling me that I’m worhtless and that everyone else things that I’m stupid. That I’m incapable of loving being loved.

The darkness it creeps up on you. You have no real idea that it’s tide has turned until suddenly out of the blue it looms over you. Cold, dark, miserable. Engulfing you and silencing you.

I know there is light out there somewhere and I know that I need to let myself feel numb. Because for me when I’m depressed I don’t really feel down…I feel numb. Using the word feel is incorrect because it implies that there is far more sensation than there actually is.

Today’s depression is probably more hormonal and stress induced than anything else. But just because I know why it’s here doesn’t make it go away.

16 August 2012

I battled to sleep last night. We turned in around 11 and I read until about midnight, but it took me about an hour to get up to sleep. Then at about quarter to four one of our dogs decided to wake us up and then it took me until five a.m. to give up and take a sleeping tablet.
There is something my subconscious is trying to tell me. Something about hidden and unexpected treasures being stolen and returned. Something about an adventure. But I’m just not able to figure it all out.

Anxiety is a bitch but since the psychiatrist has doubled my dose of meds I seem to be less on edge…but the flip side is the side effects are back. Dry-mouth and headaches with a side order of nausea.
I’ve figured out that an “objective” indicator of how depressed I am is my interest in the fish. It seems to be a good scale and I’m keeping track of my mood on a site prescribed by my doc.
Not looking forward to tomorrow, it’s my mum’s birthday.