Many many things have changed in the past year. I have changed. I took control of my life and I hope to write lots about it and share it. I want to bring to life on my pages how I managed to find the path to become truly wholly uniquely me. I’m still on the journey but I want to write now, while I’m in the process so others can benefit by following along. I want to show others that they can live life more fully, more contentedly, it’s a matter of HOW to do it. I invite you over to my new site, Elephantintherock.com where I will talk about how you can start your journey by starting from where you are, chipping away at everything that isn’t you and cultivating and nurturing what is. If you look back at my writings here you can see how low low low I was. I want to tell you if you are in a similar situation, it is possible, I did it, and I’m still doing it and you can to. It’s not daunting when you take it one baby step at a time. Hope to see you there.
So I have been gone for a while, more than a year. I thought about making a whole new page, in fact, I more than thought about it, I made one. I even wrote a little post but didn’t publish it. Why did I make a new page, instead of continuing on this one? Because that’s what I do. I think about it as letting go of the old and bringing on a whole new positive me. Or whatever. I do this with my diaries, my closet, my websites, relationships with people. Always erase and start anew.
I think it also saves me embarrassment, humiliation. I don’t have to look at my failures. Even written on a blog semi-anonymously, it didn’t matter, it was like looking at a mirror, at an ugly reflection of myself. That is more of the truth, a deeper truth let’s say. Right here on this site I have proof that I was depressed, hurt, embarrassed, that I felt that humiliation, that it broke me. I didn’t want to look at that again. Who would? I want to start fresh, on a positive outlook. Day 1 etc.. So how do I find myself here again, writing on top of the past that is in clear and painful view to me?
By accident. I logged in using my old login instead of my new. I braved myself enough to go to the front page and quickly and squinty eyed browse through the old posts. And I found some insight, specially in one of my old dreams. It seemed obvious its meaning when maybe I didn’t see it at the time. I was too close. The dream told me, I was ashamed of getting beaten again-letting myself get stepped on and walked all over, it told me I felt like a little girl again, helpless. But I’m 30, so I shouldn’t feel that way, I should be strong, so I felt guilt on top of helpless and sad and weak. As I write this, I can’t believe I am going over this again. I wanted to never revisit it.
That’s me too. I guess I have a hard time between deciphering when to let it go all healthy like, and when I’m burying it instead. When I’m running away from it. And I don’t even have that figured out so I’m not gonna get into it. I’m just going to acknowledge it, I’m going to say, I know that I do this. I know.
Seeing that old post, I decided to do something brave, I decided to continue my story . Because I saw value in what I wrote regardless of whether I was hurt, I saw value in myself that wrote those things at that time. Why should I shun her? I think that’s a big problem of mine, only accepting myself when I do good and things go right and lashing and flogging myself mentally and emotionally when I don’t do good and things go wrong. I shun the part of myself that hurt, the part of myself that experienced pain in anyway. I bury her and try not to think of her. Jeez that has to do some damage. I think I realized all this in a matter of moments when reading that post. Well, I decided to not cut off at the bad parts or try to start anew without any mistakes, ‘without any misery’. Instead, I’m saying it happened, things like this will happen or may continue to happen. I have to accept myself then as I accept myself at the best of times.
I don’t know if I will go back to reread them, I don’t know if I have to revisit painful memories to have some type of healing, right now it would feel more like re-opening old wounds. Or is that fear? Fear that it isn’t healed and all i have is but to look at it and I will see it festering? Jesus that was dark. Maybe its just a matter of acceptance though, as I said before it got all gloomy up there. Acceptance that it happened without hating myself or shunning myself or wanting to run and hide. To be able to look at it, at the reflection, at her, at me.
All I can say is I will be brave. I will not start a new journal (as I have been contemplating too) or a new website. I will continue my story here on top of the rest of it. Because it’s all me, it all happened, I experienced it all. And it didn’t kill me. I didn’t stop there, I kept going. Staggered and flailing but I kept going and I think I walk a little sturdier today-somehow. I still feel lost a lot, but this is me picking up trying to learn again…to be me, to find me. And I like writing so that’s part of what it is to be me.
To be continued…
Day 2 (written 8/9/2018)
I had a horrible nightmare. I have nightmares pretty regularly, maybe 1 or so every couple of weeks, sometimes more. Todays was just awful. It was full of hair raising fear and extreme grieving sadness. I was being chased relentlessly, I could not escape, people I love the most in the world were killed or going to get killed, and the whole event would repeat again. I Know this has to do with my quitting tv. I can feel it, like something coming through that has been repressed? Or my mind reacting from a bit of withdrawal from the constant strumming on my brain that tv used to do. It reminds me of the nightmares I had when I quit smoking cigarettes or weed. Disclaimer: weed is A-OK with many people, but I got panic attacks while using it and I definitely over used it. I think I have written about it in the past. I stopped smoking when I found out I was 3 weeks pregnant.
Day 2, my mind already feels sharper. I felt … happier today, I felt more in the moment. I still experienced thought loops at the end of the night, but it was not all day, and I was able not have many of them either (I say able, because I can put a stop to them when I am aware and more in control of my brain). I think I was kinder to myself, I was more aware when my thoughts drifted as opposed to figuring it out minutes into it. I more easily brought my mind back to the present. I felt like if I had ruminations they also weren’t as emotionally impactful (negatively as they usually are) except of course for the thought loops which are a different story. It’s like I can catch myself falling into patterns that aren’t my true self, just some weird mindset I fall into. I have a whole theory about mindset and how it is like a default setting but it can be switched to another Setting. To make the new mind set a default setting though, you have to keep using it. I’ll talk more about this a different time.
Jesus, the lightning finally stopped, it had been going on for hours, 6 at least. Its 3:25 now. I’ve had more time, although not a huge chunk. But whatever I have I either read an article, listen to music, or a podcast. Yes those are allowed. Or for “fun” I allow myself to watch lectures on YouTube . And the occasional YouTuber entertainment speaker though I’ve only watched maybe 2 of those. One was a movie critic which I could hardly get through.
Twitchy fingers. My mind did think about TV-and I express it this way purposefully- I watched as my mind thought about The Office, (a TV show I watch every night and leave on while I sleep sometimes or when I wake up during the night anxious) and relaxing back and watching the show and I almost felt a physical relaxation in my body(same process as cigarette thinking). Again I was aware of this imagining, I was seeing this thought process more as a bystander than really experiencing the thought as the thinker so it was easy to ignore and it was interesting to watch this phenomenon.
Since I allowed myself lectures on youtybe, I notice this IS the first thing I chose to do both days. Today, I started typing then read a few articles while I was in thought loops.
The article (on thought loops)
The article says when you are stuck in thought loops you can do two things, more, but two worked for me. To get to the root of the problem ask 5 “why” questions or imagine worse case scenario, here you will find the truth and you can turn it into an opposite statement.
What I found from my thought loop was ironic and also surprising, but not at the same time.
I will not be free.
So I changed it to
I am free. Now and always.
I won’t go into the breakdown right now. Too much thinking and I’m trying to go back to bed. But both lines of questioning, 5 “why” questions and worse case scenario, led to the same fear, “I am not free”. But I am free.
My mother in law said something like “i’m so glad you did that” to me hanging out with friends, it sounded patronizing. Maybe it sounds innocuous to you, but she always tells me I should do this or that. One of those things is hang out with friends more and it is said to me ad nauseum. I’ve told her many times I hang out with friends when I want, I have a 5 month old after all, and for other reasons, this statement just bothers me. Anyway, saying “ I AM free” to myself In response to the thought loops, I get less tense, I don’t feel that suffocating feeling. Because those words are flowing down into the stream of consciousness and flowing way down where I the fear lives, that I am not free, that I am trapped. This phrase heals my tension because I AM free, and deep down that is the issue. I’ll explain this better hopefully in the future.
Anyway, I gotta go to sleep before my baby wakes up for another feeding. I am SO tired and sleepy. Good night.
Disclaimer:I will be back with hopefully something a little more coherent soon. But my point here is to write. Write anything, I like writing so just get it out there. Things will start taking shape as I go along, I know this, I’ve seen it, The more I do think the more the smoke begins to take the shape of something real and see-able. So write, write garbage even. Just write.
I wanted to move out so badly. Well, I still do, pretty damn badly. I live with my in-laws with my husband and 5 month old baby girl, we have been here almost a year. For a long time I have been waiting, and I use that word purposely, waiting to move to start my life, because right now everything is unbearable, and if I could just MOVE I could start anew, fresh. I could start doing yoga more, I could go to meditation classes, I could paint, I could go out with my baby to new adventures. I could make new (friends with stronger bonds) maybe have better relationships with family I’m not bonded with cause I only have to see them so often, and they are exhausting, I could keep up the energy just for a little while every few months when they visit. I could press reset and start with a fresh pristine new canvas and I wouldn’t make the same mistakes again. I would show myself differently, how I want to be perceived. ‘
Here is tainted. Here is broken. Here it hurts and there’s baggage and too much work. I don’t want to look at here. I want to forget my mistakes and my shame and my guilt and I want to forget.
I am waiting to be happy, to explore this world. This smallness I have felt, this closing in, like I live in a prison cell, is of my own making. Because I don’t do, or start things and stop them, because I say I can’t. I can’t, it’s this house, these people, these feelings, my past. I have to escape them and then I can escape my feelings of closedindedness, where it’s hard to reach me, I have closed off to people permanently. It’s sucks the energy out of me to be around people at all to be honest. Because i’m holding true self in, holding myself back.
I want to move, I need to leave. I will be better at all of this when I don’t have the pressures building all around me, pushing and pulling at me. When I am alone to finally meditate and think and work on myself I will pull out of this emotional hole I find myself in. I have good days and bad days, but a lot more bad days, but I’m good at hiding it. Very good. But I don’t want to hide it, I want to feel better, and if I feel like shit I want to express it. But I will be judged and rejected. Yes I learned that from my past, my mom to be specific.
So I have to move. Moving is the key. I have to wait to move though, it’s not gonna happen anytime soon so it makes me feel even worse, more trapped.
Can’t I work on myself now, do all the things I want to do, explore and adventure the world? No, cause everyone is holding me back, judging me, accusing me. And I feel bad and unmotivated. And I have no time.
How are you writing this right now? At 10:25 pm. My daughter is asleep for the night and I have decided not to watch tv. I came home from seeing a friend after a day or two of not watching tv a lot of the night and I was in the moment, I didn’t even really have to think about it much to stay in the moment. And I came home absolutely buzzing with delight. I felt a part of me wanting to find something wrong with the day, trying to find something wrong with that delectable buzz, I felt tension of feeling tension. And I looked at the remote.
But I played music instead. If I had played the tv, my mind would have had an under buzz and would have found something, ANYTHING about the day that was bad that I should obsess over and blame myself over and call myself weak and awful over it.
Is my life tainted to the point where the only thing I can do is leave it and start anew. That is the “winning solution” to my suffering, that my mind has thought up.
Until then I guess I have to wait to feel alive again, to feel deep love (besides what I feel for my daughter, she is the gift from God or the Universe, or both, when I look at her, I feel, omg but do I feel everything that is missing from the rest of my world, love, curiosity. My heart aches with the strength of a thousand exploding suns when I look at that baby. I feel LIFE).
I don’t want to wait to Move. I don’t want to escape my past. My self. The things I’ve been through. Moving and trying to start anew will not change anything, because it is inside me and I cannot forget, not really. It will follow me.
I don’t know that I believe that challenges are put in front of us to make us stronger to make us flex and surpass past afronts. Maybe maybe not. But it feels like i’m trying to escape instead of facing it and that is why I am suffering. I am trying to go around whats in front of me and get to the good parts of life. But there is only life, I can only go through it and actually do my best. Actually try.
Anxieties, depressions. It’s just a challenge to push through while doing my best, doing the things I love in spite of them. Pushing through them to live my life.
It’s vague I know. This is a stream of consciousness.
I’m not moving right now, we can’t. But I’ve come to realize that wasn’t going to fix it anyway. That was just running away from things that I didn’t want to face or fix. I just wanted to ignore it until it went away. I don’t know how to fix it, I don’t even know what i’m fixing or if there is anything to fix really. I don’t think it matters either. I think it’s not about fixing it at all, but putting effort into building on top of the ashes, or the broken buildings. It’s to keep going, even if it turns out looking completely different than it used to but it’s an effort. It is to build and never to stop. It’s incremental, almost imperceptible tiny steps and building that is life.
I am just building whoever I am right on top on whatever this is right here. Or maybe I’m digging and finding myself or maybe it’s neither or both. Or maybe it doesn’t matter what analogy I use.
I need to rewire my brain. Think differently. Be different. I have the right mindset I’m talking about, that “different”. I just forget about it. I have to strengthen it. Make it a default but not stop there, keep it going, keep building on it. And it starts by turning off the boob tube that makes me not be able to think straight, and start reading smart stuff and watching smart REAL people speak. Not to even over think it and try to get lists together and read things in order etc etc. NO. just to read, whatever sticks sticks. And to think differently.
The mind wonders and I am taken on its journey
It goes to painful places and I watch intently
The mind tells horrible stories and believable lies and I listen and react and participate.
The mind focuses on one thought or event, it zeros in and the edges turn to black, and fold in, and now its a box, and that’s all I see, so that’s all I know. I’m in the box? I am the box? I can’t find it’s edges.
I know there’s more to me than any of this because I have had glimpses. Glimpses of a vast expanse that goes further than the minds eye can see, or even than I can see.
I forget how to get to that place. I fall back to old habits, familiarity of following the mind, like a well trained dog. Where shall we go, how shall I feel?
I forget, I have no leash. I do not need to follow.
I forget I am free. I know I am, but how do I find the edges?
Ah. Is it in the now? The RIGHT NOW.
This is where I am, this is where my breath is.
Could it be that easy? But it’s also hard isn’t it?
Yes, it is.
But could it be that easy?
Yes, it is.
Keep bringing my attention back to the now
My husband and I thought we would have a hard time getting pregnant. We’ve had many “accidents” and nothing happened. We weren’t being careful because we were married and although not committed 100 percent to conceiving yet, we knew we wanted a family at some point. Because of some reproductive issues I had, we thought we’d better pseudo try sooner rather than later. Our motto was, “whatever happens, happens”. It would be a blessing.
We thought we’d have a hard time getting pregnant since I’ve always had irregularly long periods, my hormones were out of wack and I had ovarian cysts galore. In May I started seeing a gyno recommended to me by my mother in law. The doc was kind of an asshole (she could be very condescending if I wasn’t firm) but she explained everything to me in detail, from my out of wack hormones to the effect they may be having on me, to the possible treatments. A couple of weeks of progesterone, 2 months of reluctant birth control, followed by chucking the birth control and practicing our motto, and boom shakalaka….PREGNANT.
I was feeling…weird. I can’t explain it, I don’t even know if I quite remember the feeling anymore. But I took a pregnancy test and a very very very faint line said I was pregnant. With each test each day after that the line got darker and darker. Definitely pregnant then. I was shocked, not quite receiving the message, the husband was too. I started spotting and went to the emergency room, they told me it could be a possible miscarriage, they couldn’t see the sack, my pregnancy hormones were low (hcg levels). The docs were matter of fact. I was scared and also, not quite receiving the message. My husband was very loving and positive the entire time.
I went to my gyno, she callously said the same thing, most early pregnancies end in miscarriages, most women don’t even notice. A chemical pregnancy it’s called. She took some blood tests. I called the office back in a couple of days, if my hcg levels had doubled it was a good sign. They had more than doubled. I came in a few days later and they could see my little itty bitty peanut with the sonogram machine. It was unreal, I was pregnant! I still couldn’t quite believe it. I eventually changed doctors to one closest to my new place and I didn’t have a 50 dollar copay each time! Good cause we are broke! Me and hubby moved in with the in laws, not because of the pregnancy, it had already been planned.
The Pregnancy: the good the bad and the ugly
Ill start with the bad, since it was the first: Sick sick sick sick sick sick. Do you hear me? Sick…Nauseous, acid reflux everyday 24/7 for the first 4 months, without throwing up. It. Was. Horrid. Nothing helped, stick your ginger and seltzer and saltines up your ass, thank you very much. Just murder me seriously. It was like nothing I had ever experienced. I went through labor and the pains along with it and I would still rather have done that once a month than experience that nausea non stop 24/7. I was all about eating healthy during my pregnancy, not taking medications, meditating…all that shit goes right out the window when you are so sick and there is not one bit of relief.
Well, I tried everything under the sun, then month 3 or 4 came and I was throwing up non stop for 3 days, couldn’t even keep water down. Eventually I got hospitalized for slight dehydration, my doc gave me some anti nausea meds, and that helped a bit for a small amount of time, I happily took them. Eventually, I think month 5, I permanently went on Diclegis and that was a more long term solution. I remember the first time in months I didn’t feel nausea, I had a popsicle that I didn’t instantly want to throw up…And I cried, a deep heartfelt cry of relief.
The pills weren’t magic though, if I skipped a dose the nausea would come back. At this point eating DID help a lot, I had to eat every 2 to 3 hours or I would still get sick. And some days, nothing helped and I got sick no matter what. But at least it wasn’t 24/7.
The good: I enjoyed seeing my baby at each ultrasound, She was jumping around in there at 12 weeks. My husband always gave me tons of attention, but now he was very protective of me and some days I felt like a princess and loved it and some day I wanted to slap him! Hormones ey. I loved to see my body change, the incredible accommodation it had to do to harbor my child, it’s astounding. Nature just knows. I watched impatiently as my belly grew sooooo slowly. I wanted to be big! I watched and felt as my baby butterfly kicks turned into lunges that only I felt, and then it rocked my entire belly and everyone could feel her. People (some) were extra nice and accommodating, which is appreciated as it honestly did make my life easier. Allowing me to sit at work, opening a door for me, cooking for me, asking if I needed help with something and so much more, the little things. Thank you all.
The ugly: Around the 27th week (I THINK) things got ugly. Before this I had some swelling, it was getting worse and worse and worse. Cosmetically, my ankles and knees were disappearing, my fingers couldn’t accommodate my wedding ring, my face had taken up quite some plumpness. I was ok with it, I was pregnant, it was “normal”, I had no one to impress (my hubby called me beautiful every single day and I decided to believe him:)), I knew it would all go away aaaand I was way too uncomfortable to give a flying fuck! This would have been fine if it wasn’t for the ankle pain, foot pain, knee pain. My back hurt, my neck hurt, my fingers hurt, what the fuck? I had so much acid reflux it beat the nausea in getting me to throw up. I was so tired and overwhelmed with peoples advice, everyone thought they could cure me. I was sleepy all the time, it hurt to walk and talk and BE. I wanted with all my heart for my baby to be perfect and arrive when she wanted but my God, I also wanted to be DONE. It felt like there was no more room left and I was about to pop.
Call the OB now
On March 6 2018, I was 34 weeks and 4 days pregnant, I woke up with my face swollen like a balloon. I got up , I threw up, called out of work and stayed in bed all day. The swelling didn’t go down and I started getting a headache so I called my husband unsure as to call my obgyn, I always think I’m over complaining when I’m probably an under complainer. Hubby said call. I called, told them I was swollen and had a headache, they asked if I had a pain under my right breast, I did, I thought it was the baby’s position. I guess it wasn’t. They told me to head to labor and delivery(not their office) one of my doctors was there and she would check me out.
We get to labor and delivery and my blood pressure is 180 over 100 something. In retrospect I see that the nurse might have been trying to keep a straight face. They take me to the labor and delivery room which I find odd, my doc comes in explains I have severe preeclempsia (a dangerous pregnancy condition caused by high blood pressure) and I will be leaving the hospital with a baby. It takes me and my husband sometime to figure out what she means. She has to phrase it a different way, I’m not leaving the hospital, and the baby has to be delivered today or tomorrow. Hooooly cow.
I’ll tell you something, I was praying everything would go well of course, but I was secretly content that it was finally over, all the pain, nausea, tightness, exhaustion was at a close and better than all that, I would finally hold my baby in my arms, I’ve been yearning for her. (I didn’t know it was a her at the time, the gender was a surprise)
My pregnancy overall
Well, I was excited to be pregnant before I was pregnant. And I think I can honestly say that if it wasn’t for the nausea I would have had a grand old time being pregnant, I liked my pregnant body all 40 extra pounds of it (before the swelling got intensely painful), I respect what my body has to go through to support a baby, I loved feeling the kicks and the life inside me. But the nausea man, that nausea had me floored for 8-9 months, I worked and I walked and I moved but it was a monumental effort. I want to have more kids in the future, I just sincerely hope the nausea doesn’t hit me as bad. That’s it. And medically I hope preeclempsia doesn’t surface again because apparently I was in a very dangerous situation, but that will be for me and my docs to work out. In the end I had a healthy if preemie, baby girl. Read my next post for my delivery story.
***Note: this post forms part of a series which explores how our quick-fix fantasy affects the Ayahuasca process. This post is part 3.
Here is part 1: The Antidote – an introduction
And part 2: Humping the Antidote
Some people reduce Ayahuasca to a bundle of chemicals, a wonder medicine that resolves imbalances in the psycho-physical information system known as a human being. Others regard Ayahuasca as a wise, divine discarnate grandmother spirit who operates independently of your will but has your best interests at heart. Either way, if these metaphors / theories are driven by the antidote fantasy (our desire for a quick-fix to the symptoms of our problems), we believe the drug or ‘grandmother’ either acts on the passive recipient, or it/she does not. The patient has little or no responsibility for their experience both during and after the…
View original post 3,971 more words