Well, I hit a bit of a crisis this week. Combination of my turn with the work bug plus Ross getting into problems with the DHS and the LEA and with his college. And I felt like I'd gone back over nine months to the state I was in during February.
Aching legs, tired, enormous weight on my shoulders, pain in the joints of my back, feeling like the glands in my neck were bloated and swollen. I was glad to get to healing on Thursday. You might remember that I started seeing Margaret at the beginning of May though I'd been going to healing from mid March onwards. Well, it's taken this long for us to get to know each other and set up trust. So, I laid it on the line for her and she laid it on the line for me.
I told her of my misery, I told her of my fear, I told her how I was tired of being brave and that I'd been being brave since I was three. I hate the way that my sensitivity becomes a total empathy like I am hot wired into other people's pain. I hate the way that this encroaches into my relationships so that there is no difference between the other person's material and mine. And it goes back a long way to concerns for my mother when her father died when I was 6/7 years old and when my dad's dad had a stroke when I was 3 years old and I felt responsible and felt that I had to make them happy again and I didn't understand when sometimes I could make them laugh and sometimes I was told off for bad behaviour and I felt that it was somehow my fault that everything had gone bad around me because no-one realised that I was sensitive enough to know that something had happened and no-one told me what it was and I worried because I didn't know what to do for the best and I was afraid that I had lost my mummy's and my daddy's love.
And Margaret told me that I had to have this pain again so that I could learn from it and so that I could move on some more. And that I needed to protect myself because it was a matter of survival for me. That I had options to leave Ross (which I don't want to do) but which would only postpone my learning what I need to learn. That I could refuse to change and periodically end up wrung out and at the end of my tether. Or that I could find a different was of behaving.
Everyone tells me to get out of my head. Everyone tells me that I have to look after myself and protect myself. But I don't know how to behave other than I do. I feel like it's like telling me to stop loving, to stop caring, to stop being intuitive, to stop being sensitive, to stop being myself. Margaret gives me a route. The poetry, belief system, whatever she uses is based on energy centres. What she tells me is that I need to come down out of my head (ie stop being so concerned with trying to think things out), that I need to rise up and stop operating from my gut (ie being so openly empathetic that I am flooded and contaminated by everyone else's material) and that I need to work more from my heart which is true and sympathetic but dispassionate.
Well, I don't know. We'll see. I need to do something as I don't want to keep going round on this treadmill for the rest of my life.
Oh, and she also wants me to talk more to my inner child, to little David, and to find out what he wants to do and to give him treats and by giving him treats I will be nurturing the very heart of me.
So Friday, I lay in til late, went kite flying, bought and bedded some winter pansies and watched the torrential rain with awe. I'm feeling up to it so I'm going to go into town and watch at least the first half of Maria Stuarda at ENO. And if I don't like it or am not up to it I'll come home at the first interval which is no more than an hour in. See ya around.