In Hampshire Hurricanes Hardly Ever Happen

Wow! What just happened?
There's a mountain to write. M, G, honesty, jealousy, self respect, confusion. I have no idea what is the best thing to do. Others will doubtlessly give advice and opinions and through it all I will need to pick out a way forward. There are a number of choices to choose from and all heading forward. Nothing can go backwards as it's impossible. But travelling back in time is actually how to go forward. Learning from past experiences. That is time travelling. So I can whizz backwards and observe. This will both influence the next decision, based on experiential patterns and information but the past can also contribute to making changes to those experiences and moving out of conditioning. Can't it? It requires being very conscious and that's so difficult.
My confusion right now is what to do next regarding G. Of course my decisions are based on my fantasies of what's going to happen next anyway. What if doesn't contact me at all? What should I do regarding his hospital visit on Wednesday? Should I offer to go anyway? Do I talk to him about continuing this relationship? Do I even want to continue the relationship? Do I really fancy him? Do I really want him in my life to that degree of commitment and relationship? Do I want to work through all that anger and receiving of it whether it's personal or not? Is that even normal? Do I want to be in a relationship with a man that is so emotionally attached to a woman and her environment? The answer to that is no. One no should be enough shouldn't it Universe?
If this was the other way around, I doubt very much he would tolerate it. So why should I tolerate it? I would like to be able to be friends. That's all I have to offer I think. That does not mean breaking contact. But equally that no longer means anything of deeper intimacy i.e. sex. It was surprisingly good under the circumstances. But there were things that were taboo, like the complete honesty of my past.
And what is once again so very evident is my fear. The fear of telling people the truth. The complete truth. The fear of being me, totally and utterly. It is useful as I am entering Step Four. This is in my face. Fear, fear, fear.
When asked about marriage I was afraid of telling the complete truth. Yes three times I've been married, not to mention the two near marriages with JC and SH. Ad a string of other longer term relationships and so many short term even one night stands fitted in between. IS it necessary to tell all of that when dating someone? I have a sordid past concerning relationships. I regret having sex with G so soon. I don't regret the sex, just the implication. I do not in my single life want to develop a history of sexual relationships within AA. But there we are - SH and GS now. Since splitting up with SH I have been in a relationship with JB, R, JHtB, - then I forget you see. My sexual inventory is not one I am proud of. And so you'd think I'd want to stop. But I don't know how to date or relate with men. Another good reason not to enter into this sort of thing alone.
So he moved in slightly. There were lovely times. And now he's gone. There were some unpleasant times. Whenever he'd been to visit Mrs E, poor Mrs. E, he was in a bad mood. Coupled with my insecurity and jealousy, that was not going to bode well. I wanted reassurance and niceness and closeness. It seemed as if he wanted controversy and was truculent. At times I felt hurt as if he was purposefully being acerbic and deliberately derisive but then would claim I was being too sensitive or carry it on.
I was sensible when I said "well I'm here when you want to be close and nice". I should have left it at that and dealt with how horrible it was feeling. However, by saying that I was finding it difficult was an opportunity for him to give in. Instead he became angrier at me directly and said that I was taking it personally. He admitted he was in a mood and that was that. So am I supposed to be okay with moodiness from other issues directly affecting me? I am not yet ready to deal with this sort of thing. I would hope that I wouldn't put my mood on someone so directly however I am sure that I do. When feeling insecure it manifests in many ways that can be quite pathetic and manipulative. Such as wanting people to stop being angry with me thereby feeling ill or using illness as a sympathy getter. And if I'm feeling angry I think I strop about ruffling the air and inflating my position and exaggerating the issue.
I have had a lovely conversation with my friend T. I was able to be honest with her about the past couple of weeks. The chaos and the good times. It is such a privilege to have friends that I can be honest with and whom listen and don't put their judgements on me. She was able to hear and I tentatively listened for tones that I think were there. But she gave me her thoughts without accusation. It is different.
We also talked though about not knowing what the purpose of "IT" all is. I mentioned the Cave in the Snow book that I'm reading. Actually that G has lent me. I am grateful for the loan. There are questions Tenzin Palmo was asking as a young girl that I have asked all my life. And without any satisfactory answer thus far. And T posed the same thought - are people who choose to meditate in caves alone for years also escaping something. Perhaps there they do not have to deal with disappointment or emotions evoked through interactions. Their only interaction is with their HP. This too seems like escapism or avoidance to some degree. We are social animals. That of course doesn't mean we have to be. I am becoming better placed to be alone and not feel lonely and scared. Does that mean I would tend to isolate. I think not. I know B puts that upon me but I really don't think I'm an isolator. I tend to do the opposite.
One of the things that has been a slight temptation recently has been SecondLife. What did I do last night? Late into the early hours actually? Yup you've probably guessed correctly, I downloaded a viewer and went into SL. There were a couple of the oldies and someone I spoke to on their arrival. I was apparently the first person they spoke with. She commented on how friendly and helpful I was. I'm glad I left a person with that impression. I spoke with Jokk for a while, still doing the same old things in the same old yella shirt and stinky ol' trainers. Fishin' to grab a few Lindens. Probably he couldn't be contacted because he was having a "session" with some floozy or other and there's me thinking he's one of the few gooduns. Oh and Trip was there. A king now in the world of the Vamps. Still there!! Relationship over and done with and offering a Skype address.
Some things never change. What did I do? Yup for those of you up with all of these era, I sent a message to Senor Dante. I still have an allegiance there. Odd really. I have wondered if he and JH were actually the same person. I saw his emailed message via SL and that was really the motive for going online.
Well G has texted and we have spoken and he will be over after the AWOL which starts in 5. I have to go and little is really written about my observations of myself. This needs to be recorded. It's crucial.
I will make some changes with G. More time for me is needed.

Bliss
XX
 

On the tempest

I pray that I an let the tempest pass by without trying to fight it off and then observe. I believe that I will see it pass and whatever it changes will be OK.
I was nearly drawn into the tempest when speaking with a friend yesterday. I was explaining all that I had been through this week, emotionally. I was already slightly heckled as they had commented that I had been silent for a few days so that must have meant something was going on. She hadn't and doesn't call me anyway. It is me that maintains the talking contact I feel. I rarely receive a call from her. Do I say something or do I let it pass? Because it really grates on my nerves when I receive comments like that. How do I let it go? Should I let it go?
I don't make much contact with A or L and there is never any comment about the amount of contact. I do wonder when I might hear from A but it sort of rises up and then I let it go for a while until it rises up again. I will call and leave a message for her.
What has arisen for me is connected with my dad. I was aware that with a niggling need to have contact with JH and D there was something bubbling underneath. I even knew that it was more than likely connected with my dad but I had been and still am but not entirely disconnected from the feelings. When I get in touch with the feelings I feel sad and weepy.  Talking with V the other evening really got me in touch with these emotions.
I prayed yesterday and this morning. I asked God to help him find peace in his soul. It may not be the case but I have a feeling that my dad is terrified of the other side of mortality. I pray to God that he does not have to die with an agonised soul. Peace and freedom is what I pray for for my dad. And for T, his wife too. I genuinely mean it from heart and my own soul. The devil in me can still think nasty thoughts. I want to banish those thoughts and so turn away from them and pull in the goodness even tighter.
I am sad that he doesn't want me. And that realisation came to me when talking about not wanting these men but wanting to be wanted. I wanted to contact D in case he is thinking badly for me for making all these declarations of keeping in contact and then not. I have intent on sending a text for his birthday. Just to let him know that I care. It's awkward because I do actually think it's sad that a friendship cannot continue because a marriage splits. Anyway it certainly is linked with wanting to be wanted. And this in the absence of being wanted by my dad.
But you know I do think he is probably facing his mortality, closer than ever. To have me close by might mean facing some of his crimes. That's not the word I'm looking for. I am having a word blank moment - yet again. Facing up to his .... demons? No that's not it. His wrong doings. I want him to know I completely forgive him. How on Earth can I let him know when he doesn't admit anything really. He's said he's sorry but for what has he apologised for? Misconduct, that's one word for it.
I want him to know God that I completely forgive him. I want nothing but for him to be free of spiritual agony. I hope some day he can forgive me my sinful behaviour and the hurt I caused him and my mum. The deceit, the behaviours against all of their principles, my demands and irresponsibility. My chaos and my ever ending desire for more and more. Greedy. And my rage that he couldn't give me what I wanted from him. And my promiscuity that he didn't really know about but had hints of. And the shame I brought upon him for the 3 marriages and only 2 of them that he knew about. God I am so sorry to my dad for bringing this all upon him. No wonder he didn't like me very much. In the back of my thoughts is the "yes but what about what he did to me?" But to be honest I know a massive list of things I have done that I am sorry for. And my changes are too late really. He has detached from me long ago. There is no opportunity to truly make it up to him apart from respecting his desires to keep me away.
I feel very sad. I wish he could know me. And I wish knowing me he might like me. I doubt that can happen now. I think I will try and call again. I've tried off and on during the week but there's no answer.
There was no answer again.
I am concerned and I am scared and I am sad.
No wonder I would like comfort with a man. And I've been hungry all afternoon. I know I'm not actually hungry because I have so much flipping food now. And then again I have been feeling fat all day too.
So now I'm almost ready for my evening meal. Feeling sad. Feeling tired. I've been up and down all day with my mood. I think I've been having highs and then some energy lows as a result.
Aha a call from my dad ..... he's reluctant to tell me what's going on.

Bliss
xx



 

Was it really that bad?

Putting down food has been so far a remarkable journey. And I thought it was all about body image, for instance weight and size. Or about control, either lack of control and greed or total control and starvation and the use of laxatives. I never really did vomit. But I caned the laxatives. When I discovered them I thought I had found the "answer to all my prayers" as they say around the rooms of AA. I could eat and then the food could be disposed of rapidly. And I mean really at high speed. I found them in my mum's cupboard. I can remember the packet. They've changed the packaging these days and even changed the ingredients, if that's the correct term. It sounds too "foody" maybe, as if they are made of nice combinations when I use the word ingredients. Chemical components perhaps makes it sound more medicinal.  I was using them for something beyond medicinal. The packaging was red and white and long. The pills themselves looked like large red Smarties and had a sweet tasting coating. How old was I? Maybe mid to late teens. My dad and I were going to lakeside, a show my mum had acquired tickets for. It was a man hypnotising the audience. I remember how thrilled and excited my mum was that SE had been so easily hypnotised and how funny it had been. I really wanted to be susceptible but I wasn't. I also recall worrying that people would think I was out with this man and they wouldn't realise he was my dad. I was in a stage of being a yon g woman and wanting to look that part and yet there was this vile relationship with my dad that sickens me now. It was all unsaid. And I didn't want to be looking too provocative with him beside me. This makes the corners of my mouth screw up in discomfort as I'm writing it. It was all inappropriate but also so subtle that it can seem ridiculous of me to be thinking all these sordid, twisted things, as if it was me and my fault all along. I was 17 or 18 now I must have been as SE must have been living and working with my mum, it could even have been later as SE had briefly worked for BA and then somehow got involved with my mum. I hated that she moved into my bedroom and there was a definite link between SE and my mum. My mum did become very close with people that were around my age of similar. I didn't mind so much as it kept her off my back in some ways, which as I was actively involved in behaviours I thought she would disapprove of me, was convenient. You see it's always got to be on my terms. When needy I wanted her 100% and when I was off gallivanting and up to no good, I didn't appreciate her attention and fuss. I think they were her me replacement as I was getting more distant in some ways. I would get very jealous though and reclaim her. I wanted all of her attention. In later years I think I was far more confident that she was there for me in her way.  My mum was away travelling somewhere ("again!", she says resentfully yet also with delight for my mum's sake. I have such a mix of feelings with my mum. I can feel sad, lonely and angry for me but this immediately negated when I think of my mum being happy and wanting her to be OK and enjoying herself). I discovered these laxatives and took a couple. This meant that after I'd eaten the food was disposed of and I felt thin. It felt a if my tummy became concave and there was the wonderful feeling of emptiness. So I'd had the joy of the tastes, anything I wanted as it became and then the glory of being emptied afterwards. The problem was that very soon I needed more than two laxatives and my mum's were all gone before she returned. No one ever noticed or said anything to enquire where the laxatives were. I used to think that my parents really didn't know what was in the house with things like this. I would quietly take things and it would all go by unnoticed or so I thought. I got the impression somehow that I could get away with it. This escalated when I "borrowed" things more often from other people and didn't return their things hoping that they'd forgotten. They too rarely said anything. I did steal things as well. Eek, it's so uncomfortable taking ownership of these things. I was one helluva a mixed up kid which went into adolescence and adult years/. I still smart at the time  stole ML's jeans and also the raincoat from school. I knew I was stealing and then hiding the goods. After ML returned to Paris I boldly wore her jeans until my mum noticed. She never did question me, not really but I know she was suspicious. I'd never her seen that look at me before, almost in suspicious disbelief. What is the word for that, there must be a single word that describes that look as we have such a wonderfully, colourful vocabulary.
Looking in the Thesaurus doesn't always work. How do people learn new words like this?
Sorry, I keep digressing from the main point, a little like Ronnie Corbett, but that's another story entirely. There I go again. Gosh I can remember how my mum laughed at these two. My dad too. But my mum would repeatedly laugh about little Ronnie's dancing legs. That tickled her.
What was the point I was writing about? Oh yes, perhaps I need to unwind backwards as I have digressed far from starting point. So to tell a little more about the laxatives. I think the start of taking the laxatives was like a very fine silk veil falling softly over me, almost unnoticed apart from what seemed like the benefits of being able to eat and knowing that I could keep control of my weight. Have my cake and eat it sort of thing. I used laxatives off and on from then. Sometimes more off than on for lengthy periods. Mainly in the beginning the use of laxatives worked as a bridge between overeating to get me into starvation. It worked because I'd start to feel thinner immediately and so I'd gain control over the eating, reducing and reducing intake. It's as if the feeling of emptiness was so, so wonderful that I could sustain it easier with every day. And of course I could then sustain that in reality for only a limited period of time before the food intake would start creeping up. But to begin with I wouldn't put on any weight or only very gradually. It gave a false sense of security that I could eat and stay thin. How I envied those types that were stick thin and fragile, bony looking types who cold look quite pathetic in the cold. Do you know the sort I mean? But I loved that look, there seemed something helpless about them that needed looking after. And people did seem to or maybe that was in my imagination. I wanted to be a little girl that people attended to. I wonder if that is connected with the absence of my mum from quite young. I can't quite remember how young I was but have a feeling it was from about 7 and 1/2 when we first moved to Farnham, 1977. I seem to recall my mum working part time for a while but soon got into the longer days. I would come home from school and she would leave a tray of things for me to eat. I also know that it wasn't long before I'd root around for more fodder. I think it was loneliness and boredom. But again I wanted my mum to be happy and she seemed so happy being at work. She was a somebody and she thrived on that. I can see that.
So the veil landed in the use of food to feed the emptiness in the house and absence of my mum. Then the laxatives fulfilled the need to be slim because after all my mum was always dieting and my dad was unpleasant about size. It was particularly difficult as I was going into late teenage years and changing shape. This coincided with my dad noticing my different shapes evident by his derogatory comments, his inappropriate sexual attention of course, and disparaging remarks towards my mum or anyone overweight. I should mention that he also has had a problem with his weight, shape and size, so I've no doubt today that his issues were more with himself but turned outwards and projected on to everyone else. However, understanding that does not make it forgivable especially as he has never before considered he may be the problem. Well I say that with the memory of saying "it's all my fault" when I was in the P Hospital. And also telling me at various stages of my life that he should never have had children. I have internalised that as him not wanting me specifically. I have learnt that it's not personal but of course it lands personally because he doesn't know how not to make it personal. He does not have that self awareness or discipline.
I'd love to be writing this as a piece of fictional literature, turning into a fascinating web of fictional story telling. But I think it;s just a need to empty myself of all of these thoughts and memories.
I am still not back to the main points but wish to continue with the realisations I am having regarding laxatives. I have sort of flash memories only of the progression of my use of laxatives. I recall when living with AV in Ealing I was using laxatives heavily. He enjoyed photography and was taking some photos of me in a very, very short leather skirt that I could only wear when very thin. It was not only short but tight fitting and I thought it was essential to be able to see my hip bones through the leather. The shoot was of the skirt and my legs in stockings and wearing very high heels, inspired by Tina Turners album cover. What is the album name?  Ah of course, Private Dancer. I was using a lot of laxatives by this time. I mean strips and strips per day. I think there were 16 pills or more to a strip. Anyway whilst he was taking photos, a pain that had been niggling in my back to the side became excruciating. I thought I was dying it was so bad. I can still recall the pain today which I find fascinating that physical pain can still be remembered. Especially when reference is made regularly to the fact that women tend to forget the pain of childbirth. Anyhow, AV rushed me to A&E. Oh my gosh I remember them asking me if I was pregnant. I wasn't entirely sure and hoped not so when they asked and I thought the x-ray could be a way for any pregnancy to abort, I said "no". They x-rayed me and I recall seeing them looking at my x-ray pointing, thinking they could see a baby. Anyway, the pain was a kidney stone. They said they had no idea how I had a kidney stone but I truly felt deep within me, something intuitive, that it was linked with my use of laxatives. I have a firm belief about that. But of course I often don't trust instincts because I also am so uncertainty hat my thoughts, memories and feelings are real. Which is a point I wanted to write about. But to finish the story of the laxatives. I remember sitting on a paper mache potty on a table with a gauze over the op. They wanted me to pass water because apparently the stone was on the move, hence the agony I was in. These must be muddled memories because it surely couldn't be that simple that I went to the toilet, they caught the stone, the pain diminished and all was well. Apart from cystitis which they attributed to the stone and a kidney infection caused by the stone grazing my kidney. That's how I remember it. I wonder if that's how and what it was actually? Oh I think I remember this hospital bed with the potty on top and me on top of the potty also being in a sort of passing way for doctors and nurses, albeit a curtain was around me. I could see them walking by so they could surely see me perched there.
Another occasion of which I am deeply disgusted involved the very peculiar but regular as clockwork overnighting weekends with DG. I travelled from my annexe at my parents to DG's mother and step-father's, the gorgeous S & T. S would regularly comment about the need for extra toilet rolls as I would be there. I spent so much time in the toilet as there were always sumptuous meals, especially apple pies and custard etc. Of course, laxatives work to a point or so I believe. They can rid of the food but I hated the idea that the quantities with which I ate meant that sugar and carbs would be seeping into my system because there were so many. I took more and more laxatives to try and counter that possibility. I think my weight did increase. Anyway, DG and I would sleep on the settee. That's where he slept. It was a very tortuous relationship. He was pretty damned cold all of the time. We had sex on that settee, the settee where the parents would be sitting the following day. I had used so many laxatives and knew that I was waiting for the emptying but couldn't tell him of course. It was always secret!! But during sex suddenly the release occurred. Oh my gosh, it was embarrassing. I can't tell you how I just wanted the ground to open. And he was desperately clearing up with me because of his worry about his parents hone. Oh wow this is such a horrible memory. It's so horrible I am slightly detached from it, writing it as fact more than emotionally.
There had already been increasingly occasions when I was living in Aylesbury, in my lovely little flat, that I was losing the ability to time the feeling of the emptying approaching and getting to the toilet. And there is an interesting connection, I loved that feeling as it approached emptying time. It was painful and the holding in was all a part of the pleasant yet uncomfortable feeling. And there are parallels of this when I was little. I never wanted to release the "poos". I wold hold on and hold on liking the pain. This resulted in a lot of soiled knickers for which I was told off regularly but never did anything to change it. Neither did anyone ever try to understand the problem. It was a problem and I make links of this with sexual behaviours with my dad. I have no clear link but something coincides.
So the veil handed landed but it wasn't think enough, so more and more laxative veils kept landing as the use augmented. But it wasn't enough. And of course alcohol and drugs helped with the other very potent layer of men and sexual relationships. I was so terribly shy not to mention lacking in any belief that I was attractive or would be attractive to me. If a man paid me any attention at all I was so grateful I gave of myself utterly. He could possess me. But of course, after a period of time the control I had given over became a prison to me and eventually I would start emerging in the shape of rebellion and the desperate need to escape. Relationships after relationship went this way. even right up until the most recent one with JH and all the complete handing over of self. But I couldn't deal with the mistrust, which was also inevitable. How could a man playing such games be entirely trustworthy. I do not blame him at all or hold any resentment anymore. There is in me a "need" like a child for him to love me, like the daughter in me wanting him to think I am a good girl and he will love me after all. There is still the "fucked upness" over the role play and the neediness confused with love and adoration. I will not enter that game for today. This is relevant as he plans a visit to the UK in August, luckily with his kids. I am tempted to suggest we meet but know that it is not healthy for me. The irregular contact has tinges of something for me and continue heartache that he doesn't declare his love for me. It is so similar to my dad situation. An abusive situation with both and yet wanting, wanting their approval and love. Grr at me for being so messed up. I'm not suggesting JH is an abuser or not. No, no I am not making judgement on that. It is me that creates this in me and people fit the role.
It's 10:00 and I need to get on with some cleaning but I still haven't got to the point I wanted to write about. I will get a drink and return to write until 10:30 max.
OK. The kettle is filled with water and switched on to work it's way to boiling the water. Or the short version of that is the kettle is on.
I think I'm ready. That statement in itself maybe something relevant in that I needed to clear the way to start expressing recent revelations. It's true really because as the food is no longer being used, laxatives and alcohol and drugs went some time ago. And actually acting out with men stopped 2 years ago. And with all of that clarity is stirring me from all directions. Everyday is now the lessons that i was ignoring before. I am a late started as a result. Probably things I would have been learning about myself in my late teens and early twenties and so on.
What I am aware of is this need to feel vindicated. But I'm not sure that is entirely the process. Let me try and explain using the situation from yesterday. Well it started a few days ago, although overall it really started in January but hey that would just one big winding journey and I've touched on snippets of it through the year to date. L has been in a bad mood for a few days. To quantify that, a worse mood. She was picking on me over the preceding days but yesterday both S and I were in for it. Nothing we can do is right at the moment. I'm on holiday from work now for a week. So it helps to download this here and leave it behind as I set off with my friends tomorrow morning. Anyway, all sorts of things were going wrong for her. Finally, she realises she needs to let go of the clinical work and get on with the more managerial tasks she is being delegated. It must be horrid as she is getting further away from what she actually wants to do. One of the reasons I didn't want to do that job. She ha been determined to both and working late as a result. I am pretty certain she gets resentful that Sh and I generally get out of the door as close as we can to the end of our paid hours. After all it's hardly as if we a re rewarded or thanked by the P. Not a good company to work for. I have no shame in writing that in my personal writings. I would not advertise it by speaking broadly but if people come across this so be it. It's the truth. They pay us a wage. It's barely covering my bills but partly that's my choice for living so far from my work place, petrol costs are high. However, we have not had pay increases and sickness is deducted. They have generously given me a study day per month. Not something they have to do when all training is cut. Only special applications will be considered and not many of those. So all in all there is little investment in staff except to get on with a high work load which has been increasing under L's overwork ethic.
So yesterday S and I covered the clinical work. This was amazing that she was letting go. However, we returned to the office and she was despairing. She has so much on. A few time during the year I've mentioned this or that that might need doing only to be battered. Gradually I learnt to step back. Letting go of my need to control. Instead I've been learning and practising little by little to observe. And now it's turning crazy. She was very stressed and whilst I was sitting with my back to her on the computer she said in a funnyish tone that she wanted to throw something and then said "this!" as she violently threw a metal stapler against the cupboard door right next to me. It made such a loud bang. It was frightening. S made a comment about feeling frightened. I was remarkably calm. Am I just so used to such outbursts. I must say there are many similarities with my dad. Anyway, this is the situation. S said it was out of order and wanted to leave the office. S said she needed to calm and get a grip. She had previously been crying and wasn't wanting to take any action to change things in herself. All she could do was continue to say how bad everything was (don't I know I do that myself??). Sounds familiar to me. I asked what she wanted to do and she could only say what she wanted to change outside of her. Hence I had got on with the computer stuff. Everything is a rush so we have little time to process anything that is going on within the office dynamics. That's when the stapler flew. She wouldn't even take a momentary break just to level herself. Not my business.
The point of this for me is that I noticed her sort of funnyish tone. But the action wasn't funny. So I minimised the reality of what happened and yet slowly was aware that it had been a very violent and dangerous thing to do. Nothing untoward happened but that's not really the point is it? I am not sure. But then it was also an example to express dramatically to make people that I speak to realise how extreme things can be. I still don't really know if it's really that bad or not. IN my mind I've normalised it and yet dramatised it all int he same breath. Can that happen? What is this that happens? And yet the drama bit of the situation and within me is the part that says to everyone "See? I'm not crazy and over dramatising". Similarly, with my dad I think everyone will think it's just me being over dramatic and nothing is really that bad. I think everything from younger years was minimised and subdued. I was subdued by them. My dad would do things and never, ever mention it again. My mum would always say it's never as bad as I thought. Oh not about my dad, I don't think she could have known. I really don't actually.
So what is this process I go through of not trusting my own self and not even reacting to somethings until afterwards. It's a part of this suppressing within me. At the time it's not bad and then afterwards it hits me full impact. Same with deaths. At the time I think it's like a traumatised shock, little reaction and then afterwards dramatised fall out. Is that what's happening, a sort of shut down?
But then this is used to get people to see me and see the situation. It's all peculiar.
So realising this doesn't mean I've hit upon the answer. It's a little surprising realisation and to be observed in itself. So this is the way I am. No judgement, goo or bad. It i itself could be me looking for vindication that I am "fucked up". I already know that but it's like I want everyone to know it too. Why? There is nothing more anyone can do. I simply want to be seen for the way I am I suppose.

OK well it's way beyond 10:30, it's nearly 11:00 and little is achieved apart from a cleaned bathroom and slightly cleaned kitchen. There is a lot of tidying and hoovering and shopping and then dropping Looby Lou off. She is sleeping soundly beside me. I love that as she often takes herself off alone these days. At one time she would only ever be beside me day and night. Yep! She slept with me but no more. I wonder why? IN my mind I've neglected her so much that she no longer wants to be near me. She is close with GB but after all she spends every working day there and for 3 1/2 months whilst I was in Spain she lived there 24/7. And then there are the holidays away from her. She is there more hours  than not. I love LouLou and hate seeing her getting old.
I hate that when I was man chasing I left her alone for hours. This was a period from October 1996 for maybe a month or more. Yuch! How could I have done that to her knowing she was such a me dog. It was cruelty.
I feel so sad and sorry for that and glad therefore that she feels safe and secure with GB.

Well any readers I'd be interested to know what your thoughts on my writings here....

Bliss
XX

Essence of Wodehouse

I just heard an adaptation of one of his books and the way he described one of the characters as being tall but not with a width that usually makes tall look impressive. I was looking at a guy this evening whose jeans hang in such a way that doesn't make slim look sexy. There's an excess of jean material, yet if worn tighter would surely make him look peculiar if not perverted. Unfortunate. He strikes me as a nice guy though. And as long as I remove my thinking about the quick solution being in a relationship, it might be possible to simply stick with him being a nice guy.
Yep the made thinking prevails but the correctional thinking seeps in - for now and thank God
Bliss
XX

Big Clouds, little sky

Well you see by staying abstinent clarity comes. But not without help.
Last evening on the way home from the meeting I started to want sugar products. I think I had wanted sugar products earlier and this may have been partly triggered by looking for chocolates for G for mothers day, which is today. God bless my mum. I miss her enormously. I might trek over to her grave this afternoon. Why not? And then I could pop over to S and C's just to say hello. Sounds like a plan.
I wonder if it would be appropriate then to pop in and say hello to Sister N too. If I left here at about 4 or 5 pm I could do all of that. Is there a Homebase of DIY place to get some seeds and potatoes for planting. Yep I'll have my own crop soon thanks to my friendly neighbour V. He's my gardener and I'm his chauffeur.
I learnt how the capital I came about - in older olde English apparently we used the word ich, more Germanic it seems. Gradually the ch got dropped, leaving of course i. But then i seemed so little, insignificant in a sentence and thus was capitalised I. Why not capitalise a then? Well apparently it was round enough to be able to be substantial in it's lower case form. Interesting huh, the evolution of language. I was interested by Chief Rabbi Lord Saks' Thought for the Day on Friday and the main literary revolutions ...

One small item of news this week was one of the great signs of our time. The world’s most famous encyclopedia will no longer be published in printed form. It will exist only through the internet. Is this the beginning of the end of the printed word? Will our grandchildren be amazed that people once used newspapers and books? And how are we going to read in the bath?
Truth is that the great changes in the human situation happen when there is a revolution in information technology. There have been three so far. We are living through the fourth. And each had spiritual significance.
The first was the invention of writing: cuneiform in Mesopotamia. This was the birth of civilisation, because writing allows us to accumulate knowledge beyond the limits of unaided human memory.
The second, 38 centuries ago, was the birth of the alphabet, in the form of proto-Semitic, the earliest form of Phoenician and Hebrew writing, discovered by British archaeologist Flinders Petrie in the Sinai desert in 1903. The very word alphabet comes from the first two Hebrew letters, aleph bet, which later became in Greek, alpha beta.
The alphabet encoded all knowledge into less than thirty symbols and created for the first time the prospect of universal literacy and with it universal human dignity. The alphabet made possible the Book of books, the Bible, and Genesis 1’s revolutionary statement that we are all, each of us, in the image of god.
Third was the invention of printing by Gutenberg in Germany in the fifteenth century, which may not have caused the Reformation of Luther and Calvin, but allowed it to spreader wider, faster than any new idea had ever done before, transforming the religious face of Europe.
And now the fourth revolution: instantaneous global communication and the electronic word instead of the printed one. In the long run, by equalising access to knowledge, it will enhance the dignity of the individual. But there’s a long way to go between here and there.
Jews like me love this technology. But we won’t let it stop us remaining the people of the Book. Our sacred text, the Torah, is still written today as it always was, by hand, by quill, on parchment, as an eternal reminder that we must never forget where we came from if we’re to get to where we want to be. If we want to travel safely into the future we must carry with us the wisdom of the past.

Anyway, this is way off track. I left the meeting wanting to eat sugar products. I put this down to ritualisation, as I often would leave the meeting and being conveniently out I would stop at the local late opening Tesco store and buy up lots of flour and sugar products. I would dither in my choices trying not to have too much, wanting to buy the less fattening but at the same time not being able to resist. The idea that I would be able to get home and curl up on the settee with a film and eat. That I did regularly. Then as I was speaking this morning about this I got more clarity. What caused the ritual in the first place aside from the fact I was already out and could buy these foods? Well I talked about the ways in which I realised I was sexualising feelings during the meeting. I feel a discomfort in the meeting.Usually there are more men than women. I also realise that I wonder about different men. By wonder, I question if they are someone I could have a relationship with. And some I think are a little too forward. I am scared of how I can be with men. It's a sort of power thing. And that I realise is a fear of them. Yet also I am so self loathing I don't think for a minute anyone would be interested in ugly me. I flit between feeling very attractive to completely ugly. I have no idea, absolutely no idea whether I am attractive or not. This I believe is dysmorphia. Sometimes I look in the mirror and think I am attractive and other times I just think ugh! It's very bizarre. Anyway, the realisation is that I am sexualising fear so automatically I don't even realise I'm doing it. I do it through these mini fantasies. The are momentary but fantasies nonetheless. I am very grateful that I have made the commitment to no engaging with men in any form of intrigue or flirtation for the next year. As my sponsor said this leaves room to develop my relationship with God. If I did start I would be using and that blocks out the opportunity to develop the relationship. The cloak comes over and blots out the view of God, the clarity of thought and mind and the awareness to be honest. It's not a malicious thought, it's addictive and automatic. So to step back leaves breathing space.
I was able to say to my sponsor that I almost feel as if I'm putting a pressure on her to understand the sex and love addiction,l to get it right and understand me. To be able to name the behaviours and attitudes correctly. I wanted to tell her so that I was honest and could step back from that too. I want to be able to say see I told you so, I'm different.
She could take that well though and my honesty enables me to step out of that attitude. I'm no more special and different than anyone else who also uses sex and love to varying degrees. I'm not the worst nor the best, I just do. I don't need to make those kind of comparisons about how bad an addict I am (using that word generically to represent any of the addictive behaviours I can so easily use).  The thing is I know I am an addict and I can use anything. What ensues when I'm using is chaos and devastation. I prefer today to be learning just how to deal with situations that were once baffling to me and the only way I knew how to cope was to escape them. Not always entirely, sometimes it would just be using something to take the edge of so that I could stay. But usually I end up, well these days anyway, by hating myself for the way I behaved int he situation and analysing it over and over again what I should have done, what I could have done, what I would have done. As SH says "shoulda, coulda, woulda". Yes all of that is so much easier with abstinence and help by talking things through.
Thank you God that it is not my way today to enter into the situations with men to test out the water, or to eat sugar and flour products or large quantities and restricted quantities. Thank you God that I don't drink alcohol today or take drugs. And thank you God for the fellowship of FA to help me to remain abstinent with all the "tools" there for me to pick up.
If I am vigilant on a daily basis then I can have this one day at a time fr the rest of my life. I have faith that it's there for me and gaining strength that I can turn to it whatever situation I am faced with.
Yesterday I just could not find the energy to start studying. I permitted myself a day of much needed rest. I needed to recoup energy after the draining week of interaction with someone who I am finding difficult. It's remarkable that despite the pressure of my study load I permitted myself the day of rest. I prepared my lunch and went over to AB's to eat and then we went out for a walk. I did my food shopping on the way and bought petrol. I forgot to bank the cheque from my client. Poop. I will try and do that tomorrow on my way home. The cashpoint has a banking letterbox that is accessible.
That will at least contribute to the food and petrol I bought yesterday totalling £80 and even then I had forgotten spinach.
I will eat from the foods I've been storing in the freezer. I do that, I hoard food for just in case situations but it's a cost really. I then buy offers. I have enough food for this week and even slightly beyond apart from the spinach and other fresh salad foods.
So I am pleased for the clarity I am getting. Next I can learn how to be more relaxed interacting with men and remove that fear of me with them. I am very wary of them and it's not surprising as I've had some very harmful experiences. My dad, GW, amongst a number of horrible situations and experiences. Often the horror could occur because of my contribution to the situation, especially not knowing that I could say no, or would know to avoid certain types. Instead I would be grateful for a smile and give myself so completely. I do not want to do that anymore. If some day I do meet someone, which I would like very much, it would be hopefully with me knowing that that person is right for me and he would know that about me too. It would be equal and loving. Someone who is willing to work through issues and difficulties too. Someone who is a stayer to discover what is real or not.
The scenery from my window today is just wonderful. Blue skies and bright light from the sun. Fluffy white clouds that seem utterly still. And greenery starting to show through. The trees are still brown.
Thank you Universe for my abstinence today and for clarity. I have gratitude.

Bliss
xx

Blob-di-blob

It's mighty cold! A wonderful day to walk though. Very cold but with the sun beaming through. There is something so satisfying about getting home into the warm after a walk in the fresh and cold air.
I had layers and layers on so actually didn't get too cold in my body. My face was fresh and ruddy.
Now it's a little cold - I can feel a chilliness around my feet so getting Val prepared (hot water bottle).
I have studied well today. Not fast but well. I'm taking heed of study skills for my learning styles. I am slower than many people who are attuned ... however, it doesn't mean I am neither stupid or incapable. I just need to take time. Which is something I have little of.
I need to update my CV and get it off to the recruitment agency. I would like to work more locally. Just seeing people getting ready ad leaving later in the morning and getting home earlier is tantalising.
I am very thankful to be employed and grateful to have a job that I enjoy - not necessarily the company and its politics but the work itself.
I can afford to pay my bills. Not a lot more and yet today I have booked the OUPS overview day and also employed the services of P to help me compile the case study. I need it out of the way and I have little time now to get it into something orderly for presentation. If he can help me then I will be delighted. I think I was trying too hard but also had procrastinated too long. Now I need all the time available to me to study. I would like to do well over the next 2 years. They matter in the weighting but also the past 2 years have not been great marks. Part of one year spent with JH and the other finding it difficult to really concentrate. I hope the menopause fuzz doesn't play such a big part this year.
How lucky it is I'm on annual leave this week. As for the past 2 days I have had a period. The first after such a long time. Maybe so much as a year or more ago. I feel sure that there have been very light spottings. But this is a real drain. I ache through all the lower half of my body. I had noticed the piercing pain in my right side, lower than my abdomen, most certainly to do with my female parts, had been hurting more.

Realisation - not fancying a man at all but just not being able to help myself. They are attentive and nice to me and I just can't help myself and suddenly need them to continue to be nice to me. And then if it seems they withdraw even slightly I get needier and believe that I do fancy them. Then I am also ashamed of this need of someone I don't find attractive.
Why? There must be something about them that must trigger something in me. I know one thing is feeling a person can take care of me. And on Saturday what was odd behaviour by a man I know may have dipped into this.
What actually happened? Well in the morning previous to leaving I was incredibly anxious. Social phobia of a particular sort. The large amount of people, the awkwardness of being alone. I spilled it all out to my sponsor who said she could hear my anxiety. She helped me to slow it all down. I just needed to breathe and if I was sitting on my own I could trust God that I would be OK. She was so right. I knew it.
Anyway as I was checking in L was behind me. I felt a presence. He didn't actually say anything. Strange I thought. I smiled and said hello and I would imagine appeared pleased to see him as I would with anyone I have known before.
As we moved further into the cafe, he said "hold on a moment". He slowly reached forward and moved a hair from my eyelash. I thought this was a very odd thing to do. He is not attractive to me physically in any way whatsoever. He is a nice enough chap though although at times speaks so quietly and quickly I can't grasp all he says. I noticed though that as the day went on he was clearer in his speaking. perhaps that is his own lack of confidence showing through. I felt quite indignant at this act though. I didn't say anything yet wondered all day about his motives. Yes indignant I remained. And yet ... there was something good about it that someone would do something like that. Perhaps he does fancy me and that's a relief as I feel so unattractive and incidentally I don't attract any men to speak with me who I find attractive. Something all so unconsciously odd going on don't you think.
As this week has gone on I have wondered what it was that permitted him to do something like that. I wondered if he had read about it or been told about it as a chat-up action. Indignant I remained. Then I remembered what S had said to me maybe some 2 years ago now when I was indignant with ego back then about a man. His exact words I don't remember but the inference was that I had something to do with it. What was it about me that gave him permission to do it? I certainly didn't put any boundaries down after the event although he didn't do anything like that again during the day. He was nothing but courteous. What the hell would I have said anyway? I will raise this with B.
And then he took my email address. I didn't not want to be friendly and keep in contact although before I hadn't given him a thought after the last course and OUPS days. Hmmmm. He emailed me the next day and I replied by that evening. I knew I was compelled to reply yet ashamed as I do not fancy him in anyway whatsoever. Is that being just friendly? Is it? I don't actually know. It's like not knowing what a helathy sized meal looks like. I have no idea.
So I am glad to have spoken about with A this evening and also get identification so that I don't feel so weird and disgusted with myself for my return email.
I need some help around this. I don't know what a healthy bottom line would be. I know that it feels wrong for example to maintain contact with JC. I mentioned it to B but haven't dropped the contact. I wuld hate it if my partner were doing what he is doing. It's simply having that contact an constant intrigue without anything ever develping beyond that. But it's not deent to his wife.
Some people would say well there is no harm being done. But there is. It feels rotten to say, sorry can't be text friends anymore. I have only flirted a few times and then ever so subtly and he hasn't responded. Yet somehow I get the feel that this is not all OK. He was having a sex affair, he loves another woman who has cut contact with him. Hmmmmm. All is not OK.
It's more obvious to me probably because I am getting more and more clarity all round.

The lectures on Saturday were so interesting. PTSD. The first was about PTSD in children. William Yule reowned it seems as he is called in to help with incidents arund the world where there is mass devastation. He was involved in the Herald of the Free Enterprise and the effect on children. It was only that long ago that people started to identify that PTSD affected children. Of course originally it was etected in veterans of Vietnam. Beofre that I guess it was called shell-shock.
The next speaker Emily Homes talked about visual imagery or flashbacks. Now I was intrigued as the the association of reliving traumas through visual memories. I wondered about D who has no visual memories. Would there be emotions from past memories if there are no images. Would these people ever suffer with PTSD if flashbacks are such a part of the condition? Interesting research perhaps.
There is a term for not having visual images but I can't find it and Emily said it three times without me really getting what she was saying. I felt too embarrassed to ask again.
Then who? And about what. Oh yes the biological state of PTSD. What was going on in the brain. David L - can't remember his name. Clearly very knowledgable indeed but I found it repetitive and actually felt very sleepy by that time.
Then Peter Naish and his references to hypnosis and EMDR as possible cures. To be honest I'm not sure what else he was saying.
I was indeed very interested in the training that William Yule made reference to. Specialised training of psychologists to be able to treat large numbers of children as well as finding the resource to treat individuals. I would imagine anything I could get involved in would be difficult and costly but how fantastic to be working alongside him if ever there was a need. In my dreams.

Studying has gone well today. I will be getting another early night as I feel achey and drained of energy with this flipping period. Not to turn against myself as B reminded me this morning. I am disappointed but I don't feel down on myself. As she said it's very symbollic of things flowing through me. I have always felt a period is cleansing. And also she made the connection with the unusual event of last week in group. Did I write about it?
I don't know. I have spoken about it a few times so maybe I did maybe I didn't. It's very relevant on 2 accounts really. 1 that it was supernatural and they are few and far between yet interesting, 2. I have been thinking about the pregancy terminations I've had in the past and feeling sad - grief.
I was in group co-facilitating with S. A client was being asked about situations in her life. I have been feeling immense sadness anyway around her. Out of the corner of my eye I saw something white on my arm and even felt a feather-lite weight there. I thouht it must have been my scarf and lifted my arm to shake it off and back into place. As I looked there was nothign there and I had a sense that it was a baby. After the group I explained this to my colleagues who took me seriously when I thought they might not. When I verbalised that I had a sense it was a baby I felt very vulnerable. I felt vulnerable because I thouht they would think I am too strange to be allowed to work with clients. Anyhow they didn't, they both were supportive of the concept even saying that it was some deep connection. The S revealed that the client had had a baby terminated. This is what I am connecting with her at a visceral level. I didn't know about this. I so wished I hadn't shaken the baby off. It needed holding and grieving. For her and for me. I'm not connected to any emotion as I type this. However, when I was speaking to B about it she said something, I can't remember what, and I felt the sadness rise in me and tears formed. I am already geetting used to this though. I would have been a mother to boys and girls but I killed those babies. One termination in particular was very difficult for me. I actually had an induced birth. Painful and quite weirdly traumatising as I was drugged up and in and out of a doziness. I had to be awake of course. Horrid! I made those awful choices and am not proud that I was simply too scared to tell my mum. She would not have approved. And prior to that I simply was too selfish to give up my life. A has said sorry to me which was a realisation for him when he discovered he could not have children with his wife. How sad for us both. I could not have a child with me. So selfish and yet it was the decisio a th the time. Thre is no going back. I give those children to God to take care of. That was when I connected with the sadness and can feel it slightly now.

More and more I am connecting with God. I am very thankful. I feel a shift in my negativity. I hope with God's help I will continue to heal and grow.

I am grateful to fellowship and thank God for my engagement with it. I am pleased I have made a commitment to no relationships with men for a year. I do not want nor need a relationship. I need the space to develop a relationship with me, clean of food, God and the fellowship.

That reminds me I have not made 3 calls today. It feels too late now. I will make some calls in the morning and at lunchtime tomorrow.
Thursday already - I would love more time off with pay without losing leave entitlement. I do not want to be without emplyment - just less time spent in work without losing any income.
God if it's Your will please can you help with this. I know I need to update my CV. Let's see if I can do a little of that now.

Oh and have been watching Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress. What a beautiful little film by Dai Sijje. It's mainly autobiographical.

Bye for now
Bliss
XX

Them

Menas

Grrr - at myself. I seem to have concentration for my study for about 10 minutes at a time ad this is not enough to get through the ever growing workload I now have.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I know I have had a lot of unrest in the past 4 or so weeks - the stroke scare which turned out to be a severe migraine linked with hormones, interview folloed by a job offer then decisions to be made, the stress of the distance I will have to drive, leaving my job, increased self-awarenes regarding shortcomings and then looking at the damage caused t me and others as a result of those shortcomings. Wanting more males in my life is a big distraction but is that a distraction as a result of the studying and stress or contributing. I think there is a need to be in the flattered stage of meeting people - men. Any men reading this ugh it feels uncomfortable being this open and honest and fills me with shame to be so averagely femal - human. Yes it's a fact I would like to meet someone to share some time with BUT there are so many things that stand between me and a loving caring relationship - namely me and "issues".
However, it doesn;t stop me from now being open to the idea of men in my life- creating friendships. I have followed the suggestions of having female friends and stopping contact with destructive male relationships and now I only really know women. It would be lovely to have a selection of people both mael and female that I could invite to get together for say a Summer barbecue. Goodness knows where exactly this would happen having no space for anything like that. Anyway it is the thought of it that's appealing.
Blah blah blah. Rattling nonsense out here now instead of getting onw ith studying.
Toying with whether to stop now and go for the afternoon walk with LouLou now - it's so lovely and sunny or do some more studyig and go later. I think I will compromise and do another half an hour - which will take me to 1545. Walk for an hour menas getting home at 1645. Then I can have a bath and wash my hair - 1715 - 1730. Half an hour studying 1800 put on my dinner - eat at 1830 - bell ringing at 1900 until 2130. Home in time for perhaps a little more studying.
Then bed by what 2300? Hah that's if I don't take a sneaky look at Twitter.
I send a message to the Universe - vis Tut.com (introduced to me by a Twitter friend). I said what I would like and as I am always warned to be careful what I ask for I added a whole load of qualifying conditions. I get scared though that I haven't covered all angles and I will get a partial gift from the Universe. It is so so complicated being me sometimes. I can turn this faith in abundance into such a reward and punishment thing.
See what I mean - it's a constant complication.
Anyway - half an hours studying is getting eaten into - more later I am of no doubt.