Today I feel particularly down. I feel like my old fears and coping mechanisms activating and I am waling on the edge of of falling into old habits. I haven’t had it for a while and to be honest experiencing it again makes me shaky. Too shaky. Yesterday my bullshit rumination has started and I spent the whole day unpacking the pockets of self-deception and I uncovered many. The skill of being honest becomes more and more important. It also feels like a magic remedy for life without hypnotism and ability to touch reality how it is. Why is it so difficult to be honest, though? Today I realised how I was avoiding honesty for many years. Perhaps, for most part of my life. When I was growing up I had to pretend that everything is alright, even if it wasn’t. Problems were not discussed, just put aside. All potential worrying issues where ignored, subject matter was removed, leaving only the worry behind. Worries without body were accumulating and causing feeling of anxiety without clear understanding what is behind. I think on the larger scale it affected my emotional intelligence disabling me to point out my feelings and emotions. It also affected my ability to ask for help. I never had a problem, every problem is a reason to worry. So I became real bad at cooperating with others and giving them my trust. And I wasn’t able to give trust myself. It is a tricky and lonely place to be in. I developed a sense of responsibility for the emotional well-being of others, in order to avoid any discomfort and worry. As a result of it I became dishonest with myself, pushing away feelings and emotions I had. My priority were the emotions of others, I learned how to adjust or even suppress my own desire.
At the moment I feel like the realisation of these old formative processes affects me big time. While I am learning honesty I become confronted with not being able to spot the reasons of me being dishonest. It feels like a blackout. I know I am being dishonest, no doubt about that, but when I try to understand how the decision-making process went, I fail to find the source. It is frustrating to me and this frustration results in the return of the old habits I mentioned in the beginning. These habits are either numbing or overstimulating. Both types are aiming to enhance the presence/absence in the moment. As I am writing these words, I feel the strong urge to give in to some of these old friends who can help me out in not being confronted with my dishonesty. I have this feeling in my belly, I recognise it well, especially when I need to know if the artwork is good, butterflies combined with intense contraction. This is a feeling of wrongdoing. The realness of it is highly uncomfortable that is why distractions come in handy.
I feel a little wary that I will spiral back into some undesirable place where I spent too much time there not that long ago. I am not the same anymore, yet, I feel anxious at the moment. At least I am being honest about it without hesitation. Noticing it gives me a boost of hope and an idea to go to bed early. It has ben unexpectedly rough day. I feel not only emotionally illiberal but also exhausted.
Night and morning.