I’m sorry that’s its been EONS since the last time I posted to this website… but I thought I’d share a short story of my journey within the last several months. If you feel you resonate with what I’ve talked about, please don’t hesitate to comment or send me a message here.
If you believe in yourself, trust yourself, know who you are, then it doesn’t and shouldn’t matter what anyone else thinks about you, your lifestyle, what you’ve done. You are the only one who knows you and the reasons for what you do, and no matter how many times you will explain it to others, others won’t get you because everyone is living for themselves, despite what they think is best for you.
In 9 months of hell — I call it hell because my life was literally turned upside by a series of anxiety attacks that I still can’t explain — no one genuinely had my back. I tried to explain my symptoms, what I was feeling, what I was going through, and not a SINGLE person understood me. I seemed to have gotten the impression that they thought I was pretending, that it was made up in my own head, like I could just instantly change what was going in my body by the snap of a finger. Like it was no big deal because it wasn’t happening to them. I felt as though they thought me as crazy. Instead of getting any sort of concern for my life and well-being, or any sort of understanding, what I got was ridicule and criticism for not being the mother I was before… It was agonizing to me that I couldn’t play my role like before. It was harder on me. As my body was attacking itself for no reason, I was attacking myself more for being dysfunctional in the eyes of everyone. For not being able to take care of my children and do normal things like a normal person. At one moment, I was on the verge of just giving up. The pain in my mind was so intense that I just wanted to stop suffering. This pain, I can’t explain… It’s not physical pain, like getting a cut; or emotional pain, like when you get hurt by what someone else said and cry. The pain was so strong, I couldn’t even eat. It hurt to eat. The food would touch my lip and it hurt me so much. As I shoved the food down my throat, I squinched my eyes as a child would do taking a medicine that taste awful.
I went for many months being stuck to a bed, not being able to stand without feeling imbalanced, dizzy, fainty. Anything I ate, I could feel it take effect in my body, like a wave hit me. I had to be careful of what I put in my body. And so, my diet consisted of only chicken, water, and sugarless herbal tea. I avoided sugar in general. Those seemed to be the only things I could eat that didn’t upset my symptoms. When I thought the symptoms were going away, it crept up behind me and attacked me, a few days after my father in law died. I woke up one night at 2 am, feeling as though something was going to take over my body, and I was hanging so hard onto myself, like I was about to fall of a cliff and digging my hands into the soil, not letting go. I didn’t sleep for 2 nights, out of fear. Tremors wouldn’t stop. It was like my body was constantly vibrating like a motor that wouldn’t stop running. Keeping me awake. Then my body had enough and it felt like I was shutting down… Not in a normal sleepy way…. like in a black out way.
Whatever I went through.. I don’t take this as “why me?” Of course, my human ego wants to say that because it believes no one should suffer in that way. It wants to be angry about what happened, and it wants me to continue to feed on that anger, stunting my growth as a human. I’ve always been an observer, philosopher, investigator of my life, trying to connect the dots, and I knew this was happening for a reason that I had not known yet. I knew I needed to learn something from this experience.
The universe, the powers that be, whatever you want to call it, had it’s way with me… Shook me to try and wake me to a different direction, perspective, approach to life. In whatever direction I chose to go, the message for me always seemed the same. To love myself more. To stop giving in to people and letting them define who I am, what my worth is. I handed it out so easily. Never trusting myself to do it, because every time I did in the past, I let myself down. In 9 months, I had to stop letting people make me feel good about who I am… Some of us here can admit that we have let people do that.. But have you ever asked yourself why you do that? Why do you let them control what you think about yourself?
It’s not going to be them that attacks you the most when you’re down; it’ll be yourself because you believed them. You will be your own attacker, like I was and still am at times. (I’m still a work in progress, obviously.)
In those hard times, I had to start caring about myself more by standing up for myself, just to stay alive. Just to survive. No one else was going to do it for me.
Love yourself. Trust yourself. Know yourself. When you can do that, no one can tear you down unless you let them.
I woke up yesterday morning, began my ritual of trying to feel good about myself by getting ready to go nowhere. Looked at myself in the mirror, fixed my frizzy, curly hair… looked at my face, dark circles and all.. and then decided that I didn’t see a problem with it, because I genuinely thought I looked damn good without the make up, and so I didn’t wear any all day. How free that felt. Not having to try and make myself feel good by putting something on my face.
Even if it’s been a nightmare, this nightmare will birth a better and beautiful person at the end of it
Photos of when it started:
Dreamcore Channeling 