I haven't blogged for a verra long time. For a variety of reasons, and at this moment as I feel compelled to write, none of the reasons feel like good ones.
They say insanity is doing the same thing and expecting a different result.
Well I have hidden my pain and suffering for many years.
I feel overwhelming shame and humiliation that I have not conquered this illness and returned to gainful employment.
For short periods of time I can subdue these thoughts/feelings with exercise, proper nutrition, and yoga/meditation.
There are times where My mind/body/spirit feel so heavily burdened it feels impossible to move.
I have small cognitive steps that I use,such as, if I think a negative thought 3 times I have to physically change my position because you require a different part of your brain to engage the physical.
Having said this, these days the burden feels heavier, thicker somehow. Like moving through jello for every thought.
Partly this is the time of year and the darkness, and my frustration with this cycle of darkness.
I must not get lost, and I want to be more aware of the masques I use to camouflage all of me.
There that's some shit that was just rolling around in there, now it is out there.
Sooooo Here's the thoughts about love.
I had a long discussion recently about love in all it's many facets.
I grew up believing love was something bartered for with chores well done, good grades, proper behaviour and all that jazz.
Now I think I was always loved, and being liked was what was being bartered for.
I'm not sure I can tell the difference. I am working on it.
I have always had this big personality, glib tongue, and an affinity for dark wit and black humour.
I think the wit and the humour are survival mechanisms.
Good ones I think, because laughing is always better than wailing.
My first experience with being loved warts and all was when I met my Phenix cousins as adults.
I found the connection and grounding I hadn't experienced since my Dad had shuffled from this mortal coil.
i have been learning how to love myself warts and all, a verra difficult task for whatever cosmic reason.
I have always been able to make myself feel better when life is not about me. when I can do, or be, for others somehow it taps a part of my psyche that functions better in crises than in the routine.
I think I feel more functional when I open the window in my brain that copes with crisis well.
I feel better about myself.
This however is unsustainable. this is my perennial conundrum.
Sooooo How about this---We open a dialogue about Love and how we cope and share it with each other.
Let me know what y'all think. I know it's a busy time of year, it doesn't have to happen now.
Now is good, but it's the sharing that matters.
hugsmar
