As A Bull

 These past few weeks have been so hard.

Yesterday, it all came to a head.

I thought if I went do a show and pretended the roll of sound healer, I'd be better.

SO, I went into my room to see if a new, sitting setup would be easier for me when traveling. I went to plug in the heater to be more comfortable. And then, I fell.

I caught myself on the futon. But, in doing so, I slammed my liver area on the bottom.

And then, the pain.

I sobbed, but it was painful to do so. I panicked because I just got diagnosed with fatty liver. And then it hit me...

I was already in so much pain because I stopped taking Duloxetine. It made it worse...so much worse. 

I've been so stubborn about being off the medicine. I was so closed-minded that I didn't try looking at myself from afar. I was allowing myself to struggle, to face pain, to face the heaviness within, without asking myself "why?"

My whole adult life, I was told by family and those around me they didn't understand why I was on the medicine. That I'd be fine and find my happy without it. But I stayed on it. Why? Younger me must have felt/known that it was needed. That was also before my Fibromyalgia diagnosis. Sitting here in a logical, grounded way makes me realize that the medicine may have saved me. Perhaps, the medicine kept me from feeling the worst of the worst of that diagnosis. 

This time without it has opened my eyes. It has made me face what being very, totally grounded feels like. I don't like it...but it made me see I need it. I need to find a balance between being in my upper and lower Chakras. 

And the middle of that?

The heart Chakra.

So, I have asked the doctor to create a plan to get me back on the medication. I am hoping in this I find the balance between the medication and me. Who knows--maybe a lower dose will be a blessed compromise. 

But I have to stop being so bull-headed. This isn't a failure. This is progress. The Universe didn't want me to be totally off it and on my own. My higher self now has shown me this is a test. I jumped to the wrong conclusion and held on to it as if it were the only option, no matter what. That wasn't right. I had other choices, but I refused to see/hear them. I am open to that now. 

I write this not for attention. Hell, I don't think a single person has stumbled on this journal. I write this for others out there going through the same thing. 

Depression is real. Anxiety is real. Chronic pain is real. And, while I believe some people can make it through life without help, I also believe some people need assistance. I am one of those people. I've struggled unnecessarily for almost a month in order to see that. I've put those I love through the ringer because of stubbornness. I am so sorry for that. But I'm done. I am moving forward. 

Together we heal

 Have I, up to this point, blocked my ability to be seen by those I can help?

That thought crossed my path yesterday when I was working on those shadows that presented themselves lately.

And the answer I got was a resounding 'yes.'

I spoke the speak. But I haven't been authentically walking the walk. Not on purpose...up until getting off these mood blocking medicines, I thought I was there. I was ready. I was eager. And I just had to be patient.

Well, I do still have to be patient. 

But I had a spiral the other day of self doubt and lack of self worth. Boy, was that a dive down the rabbit hole for me. And I'm still working on it. And I will be for a long while...

But I also know something else.

When I work with others, I feel healing myself. I center. I balance. I get a sense of calm I cannot explain. I'm going to be healing for a long time--but that's kinda the point. I have to find the balance of healing the healer and using the knowledge of that feeling to help others.

I went to my doctor today. She asked if I wanted to get back on a depression/anxiety medicine.

Without hesitation, my Soul said no. 

True, the past couple of weeks have been hard as hell. I've sobbed, felt anxiety I haven't felt in ages, and reentered shadows that I haven't quite lit up enough yet. But I also feel so much more alive when I'm doing the work. I've journaled and worked through things I never thought was still affecting me. 

And a funny moment just then? When I was going to write 'hard as hell' in that paragraph, my Higher Self put happy. And it made me smile. It shows me that I'm making the right choices. 

I woke up today with clear paths to stride through. Not stride--dance. I've been doing a lot of that lately. True, I am here for when people are ready for me (and I for them). But I am also finally coming to the steps I want to do to be seen. I even set up my scheduling online. I am making myself go to a spiritual show tomorrow. I prepaid for a ticket so I wouldn't back out. I'm going to bring my cards and talk to people and mingle and interact and soak it all in. I'm going as Jennifer, and the beautiful mess that I am. I still have moments that I don't know who that is. But I love and accept myself anyway. 

For the first time today in weeks, I breathed.  I inhaled. I exhaled. I smiled. And I got the feeling of being here. I am called. And I am loved.

Ah, how I missed this feeling.

Mourning

 That is the word that rang in my head this morning.

I've been on the verge of sobbing for the smallest things. I watched a performance of the OG cast of Les Mis singing "One Day More" and I sobbed. 

I watch shows and sob. It's a new and crazy feeling.

However, I almost remember being like this before.

Then I sat here, wondering what is causing this. And the word?

Mourning.

I feel as though I am mourning things I missed out by being so much of a people pleaser/trauma survival mode liver until this point.

Les Mis reminds me that I didn't follow my passion and love of theatre. That wasn't a road I could journey down and make my parents proud.

The dramas I'm crying over show suppressed women, not able to be themselves, speak for themselves, and stand up for themselves.

It seems to me that being on depression/anxiety medicine for so long has kept me from FEELING these things. The emotional releases weren't able to be seen/felt.

I couldn't be a theatre geek. I couldn't be openly bi. I couldn't admit to my gifts that I knew about long before I showed. I couldn't live in the honest truth out of fear. 

I went to a meetup of healers from the community Tuesday. I felt alone. I felt unauthentic when I introduced myself. Not because of who I was surrounded by. More because the words coming out of my mouth didn't sound right. I don't know how to introduce myself or explain what my gifts are. The other women flowed so easily. I felt I was speaking through mud.

I got high for the first time since getting home from LA yesterday. I felt a moment of lightness again. The same feeling I had more often than not before getting off medicine. Maybe that's it? Maybe I'm way more grounded than before. I'm not used to being so grounded. Being so makes my physical pain more real. The medicine also had pain relief benefits. I miss living a bit above the norm.

On the other hand, I don't want to have to smoke every day to feel this. I want it to return to being more natural. Maybe it isn't the medicine, or lack thereof, after all. What if it's just a residual effect of being in LA for so long? I've long said it feels as if there's a dome around me when there, lessening/muting my gifts.

Happenings of Late

 The past month or so has been hectic to say the least.

Let's break it down...

I went to Louisiana to visit family for two weeks. The travel there was horrible--I'll spare you the details. The visit was great. However, I forgot one of the most important medicines at home--my happy pill. And, by the time the doctor FINALLY sent in an emergency script, I had already done the worst of the detox. I've decided, at least until my next appointment, I'm not taking them anymore. Sure, I've had moments of crying for what I deem as no reason. And my anxiety has shown its face again. But it isn't unmanageable. Heck, I haven't killed anyone yet, so that's a positive sign!!

Anytime I go "home" I feel stuck. I've felt the sense of a dome being around me there. My messages from Source fade. My sense of empath dull. Sure, I feel more of a presence of my ancestors. However, I also feel a distance at the same time, if that makes sense. I had no desire to see extended family. I put out there that if people wanted to see me they just needed to let me know, but not a single one responded. And I'm okay with that. I'm not sure if that's growth or stubbornness. I'm hoping it's growth.

I met my hubby's Godchild/our nephew. We actually met two new nephews from since we left. Then, my hubby shocked me...

We have been chatting about moving closer to the south for more access to the nephews. Well, the Saturday after we arrived he put an offer down on land while I was napping! And the most shocking part? I think we actually are getting it.

I did have to go to a Catholic mass for my hubby's Godson's christening. That was interesting. I didn't like the priest. He was sounding more like "he" is the savior of souls rather than the "He" the Catholics preach of. But it was nice seeing my hubby connect with our nephew in such a deep way.

Getting home was much easier. I think after the insanity going, it was a sign of smooth sailing coming back.

Since the adventure, it's been slow-going getting back to normal. There's more what if's now because of the land. That's stressful. I am slowly getting back to my instruments. I missed them so. I'm working on a million travel insurance forms. We spend SO much more on travel than necessary. This trip made me lose a lot of faith in one of the few airlines that fly out of Fargo. Yet, we have so much travel already booked, we don't have much of a choice.

This is all a reality check for me. I have trouble staying grounded, and boy is this teaching me to focus more on it. I just hope having to focus on 3D things doesn't last too long--I miss my connection to my guides and source. They're there-I can sense them. But I can tell they're waiting for me to be fully ready again.

Learning to Live Again

I was a people pleaser growing up.

I was the girl who made good grades. In middle school, my mother was a teacher, and so I dare not get into trouble. Around that time, though, I wanted to not be that girl. So I started mini rebelling..."going out" with people I knew my mom didn't like (and by that I mean holding hands). I'd invite boys over on 1/2 days to hang out outside in the back yard, just because I knew I shouldn't (again, all of holding hands). 

Then the SA happened. No, it wasn't as violent as my mind convinced me of for so many decades. But it happened, and I got worse.

Come Junior High, I kept having boyfriends I knew weren't good. Then came the dating more than one guy to play with their emotions. My grades started slipping.

And all the while, my parents didn't notice. I was crying out to be seen.

My parents still saw the good girl. The kind girl. All the things I would do were at school, but not bad enough for teachers to take note. I started making up stories for attention. Honestly, I don't know how or why anyone believed a word I said.

But I wanted attention.

Then high school came. I was in band, and it was a family. I made up stories because my family would listen. I tried to be in the best clique of the family. I finally dated a good guy. I started doing pageants. My parents LOVED it all. FINALLY, I was seen.

Then the good guy dumped me. Not only that, but my friend group all went to his side. Come mid-year, I was alone at school. I was no longer seen. My parents didn't notice. I couldn't open up to them. So I dated another wrong guy. I hid him from everyone. I had to start being friends with underclassmen because the Senior friends abandoned me. The stories came back. The screams for help came back. But they weren't heard. I was still with the boy come prom...but I went with someone else. He ignored me the whole night, hitting on his crush of the moment. I invited another boy to my graduation. He was a good boy, so it made my parents happy that I was with him.

But I wasn't. I was still with the not good guy.

College came. I went because I had to according to my parents. My grades weren't good. I couldn't enjoy courses. I had no direction in life. I took advantage of what little freedoms I gained from being an adult. I grew a little...

Then, as I was ready to leave the not good boy, it happened.

I'm pregnant. 

I had to watch my parents' dreams for me come crashing down. I had to watch my dreams die. I went from almost dumping the not good boy to being married. I didn't want it. But I thought that was the right thing...that's how I was raised.

I wasn't allowed an abortion. I wasn't allowed the thought of adoption. There was only one solution.

I lived in misery. I needed help, but the not good boy wouldn't hear of it. So, during the day I played Mom and wife. One night a week, my friends would invite me out. And I took advantage of it. I was free, if only for 4 hours. I drank the pain away. I would get black out drunk and sleep with some bad boy that didn't care. Then I'd go home and pretend for another week. My voice was gone. I couldn't scream anymore. The cracks started showing.

The not good boy left me. My world crashed. On the one hand, I was free. On the other, my parents and family were so disappointed in me. Divorce was not a word in my family. I did meet someone way too soon after. Thank the Universe he was a good guy. 

However, even he didn't know the pain and suffering I was going through. Around this time, I was diagnosed with depression and Fibromyalgia. I was homeless. I left my son with his dad because I had nothing. I lived in pain every single day. Many nights, while couch surfing (I wasn't allowed to go home to my parents), I came so close to letting the darkness win. I pictured my son growing up without me and being fine.

My grandmother died being upset and disappointed in me. My heart was crushed. I fell into a deeper depression. I almost lost the good guy by sabotaging our relationship. I felt like I was drowning, and I desperately wanted to breathe in the water.

I got a sign to try giving the good guy another chance. He became my rock. He breathed for me when I couldn't move from pain. He encouraged me to get my son back. He was the light I so very needed.

From all this, my body learned bad habits.

I was living two lives.

My body kept all stress and anxiety internally.

My body took on a constant tension.

My body was always on alert for the bad thing to happen.

At 23ish, I had to learn how to live again. I honestly feel that at some point that other girl died. I had to learn how to be a real mom. I had to learn to not sabotage. I had to learn to be a good girlfriend. I had to figure out how to use my heart for good.

I didn't really find my true self again until I was 40. By then, I was married with both my son and daughter by my side. My marriage was wonderful, all things considered. It was as if from 23-40 I was in my cocoon. I was finally able to start caring about me again.

Even today, I still feel 14 sometimes. I am SO blessed that my children are now wonderful adults. My husband and I are still happy all these years later. I know who I am. I know what I believe in.

But the healing continues.

It always will.

Tension

 It always happens

I go into a session for myself with another practitioner for any topic, and I hear, "You're so tense/anxious/stressed." But I don't feel it. In fact, I am pleased that my anxiety has been at bay for quite a while. So, if I can't feel it, how can I know how to fix it or when it is fixed?

That to talk about this

I've been working with my doctor to get off a medication I've been on for a long time. It's a heart medicine. I was on it from when I'd have bad flutters with anxiety. Yesterday was the second day with no medicine in my system.

I woke up feeling anxious. I had a physical therapy appointment, so as I checked in I asked to speak to a nurse. I was feeling so anxious I was wondering if I should get back on the medication for now. 

That, and my age, turned me into a STAT patient. They worried about my heart. I was shaking, but it was an anxious shake. I had pain, but it was my carpel tunnel acting up. I know they had to be better safe than sorry, but I was more annoyed I didn't get to do my PT. I'm doing it so I can get approved for a pain clinic. As I go along, my Fibromyalgia has been getting worse. I just want to be in less pain so I can live more.

This interaction made me think...is the medicine hiding my anxiety? I know for years it gave me really low heart rate and blood pressure. Maybe now that I'm on 1/2 the dose (their suggestion) I'll be able to feel the sensation? The thing is, I am very much not scared to work through it. But I'm not sure how to.

It's so funny to me that I can help others no problem, but me? I'm lost. I cannot/will not rely on others to heal me. They can help, sure. But this is a me thing that I have to figure out. Sometimes it just feels futile--I'll feel like I'm doing the work but don't sense that it's accomplished the end goal. 

Practitioners can feel it, so why can't I? And, is it better to be on medicine that makes me more functional or to be off and feel that feeling until I work through it. I'll say one thing--that feeling was terrible yesterday. My mind wouldn't quiet. My body shook unable to release. And the only thing that helped was that 1/2 dose when I got home.

I know there's a solution. I've just yet to find it.

Feeling Lighter

Hello again

Until yesterday I didn't have much to chat about. That's why I've been quiet. I don't like posting for the sake of posting.

That being said...

I had a session of what is called Soul Touch Therapy. The only way I can describe this is gentle guided stretching with MFR and energy work all swirled into a loving ball of crystalline gold and indigo. At least, that's how I see it.

The session went as usual-her stretching me and sensing why areas were sore or hurting and guiding me to think about the reasons so as to release them. At one point, she heard the phrase "I feel bad." At first, we both attributed that to my grandmother whom is VERY vocal when she's around. We carried on, and when I tell you this is the most relaxing 2 hour span of my life each time...

The practitioner got out the room so I could get dressed and an emotion crashed into me. A thought I hadn't thunk in ages came to me. I had to call her back into the room.

You see, she and I first met at circles at a shop in town. I loved those circles, until I didn't. Towards the end, I felt not connected, almost like an outsider. I knew I didn't vibe well with one person, so I took it as that. However, I also took it as my now practitioner having something to do with it. Like I told her, I put her into the same space/bubble as the other person, and that was so wrong of me. 

It was a telling moment for me. I had to step WAY out of my comfort zone, use that throat chakra like I own that bitch, and release. She could have gotten mad. She could have said I couldn't see her anymore. But she was so kind and understood. She said I didn't have to even bring it up, but yes I did. My soul needed the release.

I have been working on my lower chakras so long now. The higher chakras are so much fun to live and experience in. But I put off the fact that I am a soul here on Earth to learn and grow sometimes. I need to focus more on that.

And do you know what helped the last couple days? Her reaction.

The immense feel of release.

The joy and bliss that interaction came with means so much. It's definitely a defining moment I hope to keep and cherish.

Admit when you're wrong. Admit to judging people incorrectly. You never know how much you need to let go until you do.