Since Friday, things have been difficult. When I got home on Friday, I cried so much. My wrist has been especially bothering me.
I don’t know what triggered this. Maybe the stress at work. Working with a friend and trying to please her is difficult. Who knows?
This weekend I find it difficult to do anything but mope around. I never allow myself this kind of luxury, but now I am on vacation and feel I should take the time. We will see what tomorrow is like, as I will see both Hell and my EMDR therapist.
In answer to some questions I asked, Hell suggested that I watch Bliss. As usual, it was a very good suggestion and, as usual, I followed through because it is always a good idea to listen to Hell’s suggestions.
The film is beautiful, but it is intended a lot more for someone else I can think of than it is for me. I am too old and, with my husband gone, it only makes me miss him all the more. The film makes me feel more alone than ever. Many times, after seeing Hell or my EMDR
therapist, I desperately need someone to hold me and caress me lovingly, and to tell me, “There, there, it is going to be all right.” The teddy bear in Hell’s healing room just doesn’t cut it anymore.
I am all alone on this healing journey. I know and recognize, and am thankful for, the guidance I receive. Still, it gives me little comfort. I guess one thing I should do is allow myself to cry as long as is necessary to allow my feelings to come through.
The film shows what would be ideal for victims of sexual abuse and incest, but it is not likely to actually happen. I assume that very, very few victims ever receive the kind of healing they need, though I think I am very close to getting this help.
Dec. 15, 2000 (NSA Journal after adjustment) Today I felt…“Ask the little girl what she wants from you,” she said (the facilitator at a rebirthing session), but I did not ask. Besides, Micha is always silent. Today, I heard her say, “I want you to cry because I could not.” But strangely, today I could not cry. That’s because Micha wants me to cry consciously, not because of the adjustment or as a result of it.
She wants me to grieve, really grieve as an act of grace, not as a reaction to Network. I don’t know if I can. Today, it seemed I was very close to releasing the pain, to opening up that one vertebra and letting the pain shoot through. I am not sure if it was because I was not ready, or if this was not the place to do this kind of release. I ended up just breathing through it. If I had done that, I would have made a lot of noise, with much screaming. Still, I think it is only when I can release the pain that my grieving will be for Micha, not before.
Dec. 16, 2000 (Computer Journal)
Mom’s birthday
She is seventy-nine today. I wonder how her inward journey is going. Mine is in a terrible shambles. I try to stay away from writing, yet I can’t. It drives me, always.