My enneagram email today asks me:
"As you approach the start of a New Year, reflect back on the past one to see how you've grown and what issues still block your way to a deeper transformation. Has there been a theme during this past year and do you see a pattern for your future challenges?"
God, what the heck is with all this deep thinking, soul searching, pattern breaking, feeling emotions but not wallowing in them?
Walking home today from Morden, and I passed the same fences from my childhood. I would swipe my hand over them and get splinters. The same trees I'd smile at. The same houses I wished I lived in, because the people seemed to belong, to be more "together" and to be "happier" than what my own reality was.
I would like to be that child again. Shrug off all the burdens, the stress, the pricking sense of foreboding, that the house of cards will fall to the floor if I relax.
Whoa, back in that pattern again, I see.
On Grooveshark at this precise moment: You Could Be Happy by Snow Patrol
Meaning: I automatically think of the Phantom Sphinx.
I'm feeling hurt for him right now. Impressions of him as a little boy. I wonder how his childhood was, what scars he holds deep, deep, deep within. Did I open any? Did I make him look inside? Did I manage to heal anything at all? Or was this solely a fucked-up, self-sabotage mission? And it could have been anybody at all, but it just happened to be him who made the soul contract with me for lessons to learn and teach?
Did I hurt him too much? As much as I have hurt myself?
It hurts me more because it takes a lot to get close to someone, to make that flowing mind and soul connection. There are too few people in my life sphere these days with whom I have that. So every single one of them matters a great deal.
And, well, he was to be my spouse. In theory, at least. He had potential to be "the one", I was obviously dead wrong. When I said to Sidra that because he was sober and good and kind, that's why I've chosen him. She went all shocked and laughed knowingly "What do you mean, you've chosen him?!"
I thought I was right. I felt a little insulted that what I thought was truth and real, she didn't see it as the same.
Ha ha ha. Obviously, she knew more. And now I know a little bit more.
I wasn't waiting for love, I was settling for somebody to hold ~ Darren Hayes, Where You Wanted To Be
Falling for the very first person who showed a gnat's weight of interest in me, my mind, my intellect, my physical beauty - me.
Well, my conclusion is: he has been burned much less, if at all, in this entire facade. Obviously. He's a male. And he's repressed and denied everything for a long, long time. He's heartless. And acts headless sometimes.
And I'm just one in a long line of "almost" conquests.
It obviously has a lot to do with his father. I've been trying to pinpoint his Enneagram. He's a 5w6 or a 6w5. Maybe. Violent and abusive childhood. I'm getting the idea that the father was physically abusive: to the mother, without question.... anyone else?
I couldn't make it work. I've failed, and so feel like a failure. I didn't even want it to work. I don't want him at all, that's for sure. He's way too religious. I am no longer religious, but I am trying to become more spiritual. And there's at least 50 other things wrong with the entire thing. My thinking he made me feel uneasy being myself is a huge indicator of the disconnect.
And the entire inexplicable and imbecilic accusations and suggestions by stalker girlfriend about me prank calling him and getting back with him was entirely superfluous and pissed me off to no end. That was the height of it.
I shall play no more power games, man-boy. C'est tout.
So why am I crying now? Why am I feeling sad and nostalgic now?
Why am I still obsessing over this? Why can't I just let it go... and get over it? Why do I still think there's something serendipitous and synchronous and meaningful in all of this? That the crazy dots will connect?
Why can't I just say, "Shit happens. You don't always have to understand it."
And, well, you keep saying that it "shouldn't" have happened to you. That it was too crazy and weird and nonsensical. Not sane, not normal, not regular, not predictable.
Truth is: it happened. Try denying it. Can you?
Nope.
Feeling anger, guilt and shame doesn't change what has actually happened. Fear and worry will not change what will now happen. And complacency and wallowing will not propel the present.
It's just want to have it: love. It is possible. Look all around you; people do it all the time: even the chavs. Especially the chavs!
And I hate myself for wanting it, for needing it - so desperately, so urgently.
I want it NOW. And seamlessly. Union. Freedom. Love. Tenderness. Care. Soul mate. Life partner. Husband.
Thanks to this little interaction with the man-boy, the dam has been mercilessly yanked open and the floodgates have been thrown aside, allowing it all to gush forth.
Why is it that I'm "not ready"? When will I be? How many scars have to be probed open, how much salt has to be rubbed in them, how much flipping pain has to still be experienced?
Simplicity is key. I obviously don't want things to be so simple. I like the complex, the unattainable, the mysteries that need to be solved, the unprofane, the Sacred.
And it's not that difficult. No matter how much I try to peer into the depths and pull apart a few of the veils He's place in front of me, I can't. They are utterly impenetrable.
No result. Pas de résultat.
I use the words and I read the books and I understand in my head - but the heart and the gut is blank. I don't comprehend.
I can't understand the lessons. Yet. I shall, and very soon.
I'm forced to be human, when all I aspire to is to merge with the Divine.
I don't know what my intuition says, mostly because Tazeen's says one thing, Sidra's says another opposite one and my overwhelming feeling is different from the both of theirs.
As far as the obsessive obsession with this affair is: I feel he's two faced. He was completely confused. He's looking for something he might never find.
And it would be okay, but I'm taking it personally.
"This kind of shit should happen to others, not me" ~ Outlandish, Nothing Left To Do
I'm a catalyst, but this shit burned me so badly. I frigging became part of the process.
Ms. Impervious has been completely shattered by Mr. Impervious.
I found my mother, my khala and even my friends to be weak when they would feel so attached to a man. That they put up with all sorts of nastiness and hurt and pain... to me, it was clear.
"He's not worth it, take care of yourself. Such spineless bastard; a real man would never treat a woman like that.Why can't you just leave? Where's your dignity? It's not that big of a deal. You'll find someone else. Be a woman. Stand up for yourself."
But when it was my turn, I said:
"I'll say yes to the Universe. It's not really what I'm looking for, or what I want. but I'm way too picky and snooty. Let's see what happens... even though I see it's not working for me at all, even though I feel like I'll never measure up, that I can't be safe in my own skin, I'll give him another chance, he's good inside, I can see it, he's just confused, as am I...I need him, I can't afford to lose him, he completes me... I don't know how to let him go..."
Famous last words.
I forgive myself.
I am forgiving you, too, man-boy. May you find peace and healing. I hope I can be the waseelah. That means by distance Reiki healing, of course. At least, that would help me make sense of it all. If I was just God's vessel to help you. A healer doesn't discriminate: she heals everyone.
Now, if I can accept that it's not personal, that you didn't reject me, Sukaina, but just another person who came onto your radar, I can move on - truly.
I wish I could stop blaming you.
But then that means I start blaming myself.
What's the fine line between taking full responsibility for my part in this and just laying the heavy blame upon my shoulders?
How much was my responsibility, and how much was yours?
Why is there no complete resolution yet?
*This is it: I pray with all my heart that this is truly the last time I shall talk about this on this blog. Any further ramblings will be in my paper journal. This is now my private grief, wallowing and healing.*
And I'm still rejecting my femininity. It disgusts me, being female. For me, being female, being woman = being weak and shahwa and non-rational. I become Adam's Rib. Just there for sex and beauty and for the overall gratification of man.
Ack! Just remembered I forgot to buy hot wax from the grocery store. The sole purpose I went there in the first place. Well, I went for milk, too. And I bought choc chip cookies instead.
Sigh...
So I'll have fat and hairy legs instead of thin and sexy, smooth legs.
Guess, I'm going to Sainsbury's again tomorrow.
I have vowed to keep up my grooming to an acceptable level. No more Yeti-in-training look for me. If I look good, I feel good about myself, which means I feel like doing well for myself, which means I can then do good and be there for others.
I am woman.
I am beauty.
I am sexy.
I am power.
I matter.
Hear my roar.
"As you approach the start of a New Year, reflect back on the past one to see how you've grown and what issues still block your way to a deeper transformation. Has there been a theme during this past year and do you see a pattern for your future challenges?"
God, what the heck is with all this deep thinking, soul searching, pattern breaking, feeling emotions but not wallowing in them?
Walking home today from Morden, and I passed the same fences from my childhood. I would swipe my hand over them and get splinters. The same trees I'd smile at. The same houses I wished I lived in, because the people seemed to belong, to be more "together" and to be "happier" than what my own reality was.
I would like to be that child again. Shrug off all the burdens, the stress, the pricking sense of foreboding, that the house of cards will fall to the floor if I relax.
Whoa, back in that pattern again, I see.
On Grooveshark at this precise moment: You Could Be Happy by Snow Patrol
Meaning: I automatically think of the Phantom Sphinx.
I'm feeling hurt for him right now. Impressions of him as a little boy. I wonder how his childhood was, what scars he holds deep, deep, deep within. Did I open any? Did I make him look inside? Did I manage to heal anything at all? Or was this solely a fucked-up, self-sabotage mission? And it could have been anybody at all, but it just happened to be him who made the soul contract with me for lessons to learn and teach?
Did I hurt him too much? As much as I have hurt myself?
It hurts me more because it takes a lot to get close to someone, to make that flowing mind and soul connection. There are too few people in my life sphere these days with whom I have that. So every single one of them matters a great deal.
And, well, he was to be my spouse. In theory, at least. He had potential to be "the one", I was obviously dead wrong. When I said to Sidra that because he was sober and good and kind, that's why I've chosen him. She went all shocked and laughed knowingly "What do you mean, you've chosen him?!"
I thought I was right. I felt a little insulted that what I thought was truth and real, she didn't see it as the same.
Ha ha ha. Obviously, she knew more. And now I know a little bit more.
I wasn't waiting for love, I was settling for somebody to hold ~ Darren Hayes, Where You Wanted To Be
Falling for the very first person who showed a gnat's weight of interest in me, my mind, my intellect, my physical beauty - me.
Well, my conclusion is: he has been burned much less, if at all, in this entire facade. Obviously. He's a male. And he's repressed and denied everything for a long, long time. He's heartless. And acts headless sometimes.
And I'm just one in a long line of "almost" conquests.
It obviously has a lot to do with his father. I've been trying to pinpoint his Enneagram. He's a 5w6 or a 6w5. Maybe. Violent and abusive childhood. I'm getting the idea that the father was physically abusive: to the mother, without question.... anyone else?
I couldn't make it work. I've failed, and so feel like a failure. I didn't even want it to work. I don't want him at all, that's for sure. He's way too religious. I am no longer religious, but I am trying to become more spiritual. And there's at least 50 other things wrong with the entire thing. My thinking he made me feel uneasy being myself is a huge indicator of the disconnect.
And the entire inexplicable and imbecilic accusations and suggestions by stalker girlfriend about me prank calling him and getting back with him was entirely superfluous and pissed me off to no end. That was the height of it.
I shall play no more power games, man-boy. C'est tout.
So why am I crying now? Why am I feeling sad and nostalgic now?
Why am I still obsessing over this? Why can't I just let it go... and get over it? Why do I still think there's something serendipitous and synchronous and meaningful in all of this? That the crazy dots will connect?
Why can't I just say, "Shit happens. You don't always have to understand it."
And, well, you keep saying that it "shouldn't" have happened to you. That it was too crazy and weird and nonsensical. Not sane, not normal, not regular, not predictable.
Truth is: it happened. Try denying it. Can you?
Nope.
Feeling anger, guilt and shame doesn't change what has actually happened. Fear and worry will not change what will now happen. And complacency and wallowing will not propel the present.
It's just want to have it: love. It is possible. Look all around you; people do it all the time: even the chavs. Especially the chavs!
And I hate myself for wanting it, for needing it - so desperately, so urgently.
I want it NOW. And seamlessly. Union. Freedom. Love. Tenderness. Care. Soul mate. Life partner. Husband.
Thanks to this little interaction with the man-boy, the dam has been mercilessly yanked open and the floodgates have been thrown aside, allowing it all to gush forth.
Why is it that I'm "not ready"? When will I be? How many scars have to be probed open, how much salt has to be rubbed in them, how much flipping pain has to still be experienced?
Simplicity is key. I obviously don't want things to be so simple. I like the complex, the unattainable, the mysteries that need to be solved, the unprofane, the Sacred.
And it's not that difficult. No matter how much I try to peer into the depths and pull apart a few of the veils He's place in front of me, I can't. They are utterly impenetrable.
No result. Pas de résultat.
I use the words and I read the books and I understand in my head - but the heart and the gut is blank. I don't comprehend.
I can't understand the lessons. Yet. I shall, and very soon.
I'm forced to be human, when all I aspire to is to merge with the Divine.
I don't know what my intuition says, mostly because Tazeen's says one thing, Sidra's says another opposite one and my overwhelming feeling is different from the both of theirs.
As far as the obsessive obsession with this affair is: I feel he's two faced. He was completely confused. He's looking for something he might never find.
And it would be okay, but I'm taking it personally.
"This kind of shit should happen to others, not me" ~ Outlandish, Nothing Left To Do
I'm a catalyst, but this shit burned me so badly. I frigging became part of the process.
Ms. Impervious has been completely shattered by Mr. Impervious.
I found my mother, my khala and even my friends to be weak when they would feel so attached to a man. That they put up with all sorts of nastiness and hurt and pain... to me, it was clear.
"He's not worth it, take care of yourself. Such spineless bastard; a real man would never treat a woman like that.Why can't you just leave? Where's your dignity? It's not that big of a deal. You'll find someone else. Be a woman. Stand up for yourself."
But when it was my turn, I said:
"I'll say yes to the Universe. It's not really what I'm looking for, or what I want. but I'm way too picky and snooty. Let's see what happens... even though I see it's not working for me at all, even though I feel like I'll never measure up, that I can't be safe in my own skin, I'll give him another chance, he's good inside, I can see it, he's just confused, as am I...I need him, I can't afford to lose him, he completes me... I don't know how to let him go..."
Famous last words.
I forgive myself.
I am forgiving you, too, man-boy. May you find peace and healing. I hope I can be the waseelah. That means by distance Reiki healing, of course. At least, that would help me make sense of it all. If I was just God's vessel to help you. A healer doesn't discriminate: she heals everyone.
Now, if I can accept that it's not personal, that you didn't reject me, Sukaina, but just another person who came onto your radar, I can move on - truly.
I wish I could stop blaming you.
But then that means I start blaming myself.
What's the fine line between taking full responsibility for my part in this and just laying the heavy blame upon my shoulders?
How much was my responsibility, and how much was yours?
Why is there no complete resolution yet?
*This is it: I pray with all my heart that this is truly the last time I shall talk about this on this blog. Any further ramblings will be in my paper journal. This is now my private grief, wallowing and healing.*
And I'm still rejecting my femininity. It disgusts me, being female. For me, being female, being woman = being weak and shahwa and non-rational. I become Adam's Rib. Just there for sex and beauty and for the overall gratification of man.
Ack! Just remembered I forgot to buy hot wax from the grocery store. The sole purpose I went there in the first place. Well, I went for milk, too. And I bought choc chip cookies instead.
Sigh...
So I'll have fat and hairy legs instead of thin and sexy, smooth legs.
Guess, I'm going to Sainsbury's again tomorrow.
I have vowed to keep up my grooming to an acceptable level. No more Yeti-in-training look for me. If I look good, I feel good about myself, which means I feel like doing well for myself, which means I can then do good and be there for others.
I am woman.
I am beauty.
I am sexy.
I am power.
I matter.
Hear my roar.
Comments