I sat there. Stuck. In my living room. Wondering what to do with my day. My week. My life.
We’ve all been there. There are times when it seems like all the choices you have, just don’t work. You could try this… but then that will happen. Ugh. Or take the offer you got last week… but you can’t even think about that. It’s too much.
So there I sat. This and That did not work. My life did not work.
But then I realized something: The blocks were not out there. The blocks had to do with how I felt about my choices. If I went and did such-and-such, I might get good results, but I would hate doing it, so I couldn’t bring myself to go that route.
So I did what any sane disociative person would do (and by the way, I’m not sane and I’m not disociative, but humor me) – I looked at the part of me that was in resistance to all my choices. I looked at the feeling.
And I invited it over for tea.
Normally, when I have a thought or a feeling that I don’t like, I push it away, repress it, distract myself – anything to get away from it. I want to feel happy. I want to focus on what I can do – on what I want to do – not on what I can’t do or won’t do.
But all this “won’t do” was suffocating me. I had to get through to it and find out why it was blocking me.
When I actually listened to it, it was like a dam burst. It wanted to talk to me so bad, after so many years of repression, that it started to shout. So I let it use my voice. And what a toxic voice it was.
“I hate you!”
“You are worthless!”
“You can’t do anything right!”
Actually, it was much harsher than that. The profanity spewed out of me. Whatever that thing was inside of me that wouldn’t let me do anything worthwhile – that thing hated me and wanted to hurt me. It was insane.
We all have our Ego, which opposes us in many ways. But this thing was beyond that simple label. It was a collection of repressed thoughts, feelings and beliefs that had been pushed down and hardened over the years. It was a voice that was not allowed to speak. It was a Shadow that needed light.
So I shone light into the shadow. I looked at it. I listened to it. To “him.” To that voice that needed to speak.
And after a few minutes of shouting obscenities, I felt better. I felt that my voice had finally been heard. After all the dirty words, I felt cleansed.
I think I need to do that more often – listen to myself, that is. Listen to the Shadowy parts that need to speak. Listen to why I think I can’t do something. Give it love. Give it light.
And then move forward.