I spoke to Jonathan last night, and he and I had the best conversation we've had in a really long time. We spoke for 30 minutes (I really am *very* happy with this unlimited calling through Skype), and I felt so relaxed and at ease at the end of it. There really is nothing like speaking to friends who KNOW you, who really understand who you are and how you think and feel. I told him about my insomnia and anxiety, and he really listened and was sympathetic without being overly concerned.
I still woke up in the wee hours of the morning, but this time it was at 4 a.m., not 2 a.m., and my jaw wasn't sore from grinding my teeth. So I just lay there in the quiet dark, thinking, trying to really pay attention to what I was feeling. I noticed this dull ache in the left side of my chest, right over my heart, which is often there - I'm so used to it now that I rarely pay attention to it. I folded my hands over the ache and asked myself what was wrong, and this voice came up, saying these really violent, angry, frustrated, mean thoughts. Very Linda Blair in the Exorcist, in a way.
It (or I) was really furious with me. It said that this was all life is, and I had to get used to it; that I brought this upon myself; that all these things that had happened in my life were my fault; that I was worthless, stupid, ugly, awful, horrid... just really intense, violent, angry feelings.
And I let it be. I let it be angry. Because I think it was stuff from all the way back when my parents got divorced, and how I felt that I was to blame. That the death of their marriage and my life as I knew it was a direct result of my worthlessness or not trying hard enough or not being a better child or human being. And what was a real gift was what my mom had told me when she was sick in the hospital - that it wasn't my fault, of course, and I deserved so much better than I got from her or my father, and that she knew they had failed me and let me down. And I didn't argue with the voice, although I think I might benefit from some
cognitive-behavioral therapy to help me realign those thoughts; I just poured love into the ache, and reminded myself of what my mother had told me, and I slowly felt a little better.
And this morning the world looks better, and I'm excited to be going outside, and I feel like I'm looking forward to the day.
I'm also curious what Sean's church, Science of the Mind, would have to say about monitoring these thoughts, and how changing your thoughts can really change how you can see the world. The ache is still there, but it's not as pronounced, and now I think I can go back to it again and talk to it some more.
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Wow... that's really intense. I think that by acknowledging that hurt and anger, you've already started to allow it to heal. It's like when you're really frustrated about something, and all you have to do is express the frustration, and you feel better. It's not gone completely, but it's better. I think you're off to a good start with this. If there's anything I can do, let me know. I'll do whatever I can for my Jenny (and, to anyone else reading this, DON'T call her that... it's a priveleged few of us who get that honor :) ).
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