๐ ๐๐๐ฅ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐๐ฉ๐๐ญ๐ก๐๐ญ๐ข๐ ๐๐ง๐ ๐ฐ๐ก๐๐ญ ๐โ๐ฆ ๐๐จ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐๐๐จ๐ฎ๐ญ ๐ข๐ญ
Sep 10, 2024๐ ๐๐๐ฅ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐๐ฉ๐๐ญ๐ก๐๐ญ๐ข๐ ๐๐ง๐ ๐ฐ๐ก๐๐ญ ๐’๐ฆ ๐๐จ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐๐๐จ๐ฎ๐ญ ๐ข๐ญ//
I’m not so much breaking into pieces, as the false constructs that held my humanity together are being melted from the inside out, and I don’t have bones to hold myself up. Metaphorically. Literally, I still have bones guys, do not send help.
Cue: pile of goo stage.
3 days ago in a healing session with Suzanne, I discovered (and started deconstructing) two things:
1 ) My higher self is asking me to get okay with the idea that I might never be in a relationship again, knowing deeply that I’ll still have an exceptional life.
Ugh.
2 ) Which unlocked the false belief: ๐ต๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ก๐๐๐๐ โ๐๐ ๐๐ ๐กโ๐ ๐๐๐๐ฆ ๐ค๐๐ฆ ๐ก๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐ฃ๐๐๏ผ Every other kind of love is lesser. It doesn’t count.
Woof.
Lately, I’ve also been having a reoccurring issue with feeling unimportant, so yesterday I decided to dissolve the original emotion loop that created a different false belief:
๐ผ๐ ๐ผ’๐ ๐๐๐ก ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐ก๐๐๐๐ก๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐ ๐ผ’๐ “๐๐๐๐๐๐ก๐๐๐ก” ๐๐ก ๐กโ๐ ๐ก๐๐๐๐๏ผ ๐กโ๐๐ ๐ผ ๐ค๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๏ผ
They are such core threads of my supposed identity, that I feel like an amorphous blob without them.
I know neither of them are true. And yet they each held upright pillars in my core being and without them, I feel more of a wisp of smoke aimlessly floating.
The apathy is present, I suspect, to hide some deep cellular grief about to be released.
Betrayal, at being lied to about these things by society.
Mourning the traditional relationship that I’ll never have because it is too embedded with society’s distorted, unhealthy programs about what makes a match. One person being singularly responsible for your wellbeing. In the absence of which, you are a lesser person. Only a half.
Most importantly, I shed these things willingly. I will not stand by and do nothing, while higher frequency versions of my happiness and life exist in potential reality.
But being with this version of me is strange.
This formless version that doesn’t feel the way I used to but also isn’t sure how I ๐๐ feel now.
I see the dishes, and they don’t leave an impression on me.
I see the trash piling over and it is so inconsequential it literally doesn’t register.
I feel the “I’m supposed to be working” edge, that has a list of things for me to accomplish, and I sweep it to the side.
Because what I really want, is just to be soft with myself. Today, I want to sit. I want to stare. I want to write if I feel like I have something to say. I want to just feel what I’m feeling. Even if what I’m feeling is nothing.
I suspect it’s not nothing. I suspect it’s a log jam of emotions grappling to escape simultaneously and so blocking the exit.
Either way. I’m okay. And so are you.
If you can relate, try it with me.
Just for today, put down your to-do list, pick up a pillow, and be soft with yourself
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