Day Seven

Day Seven of the Rest of my Life – Milestones

God created the world in six days and rested on the seventh.

For six ‘days’ Helkele tried to drain all the negative bits from her soul and on day seven she didn’t rest but came up with a résumé and a somewhat cleansed outlook on life…

Question:            What is wrong with me???

Answer:               Essentially – plenty.

Anxiety and Frustration

These two monsters have accompanied me as long as I can remember…or as long as I have had the ability to reflect on my life. They are deeply engrained in my emotional memory and have crept into me during my early development years. Karyl McBride[1] (Chapter 6) refers to the roots of this as internal vs. external validation. With a narcissistic mother as mine, I was denied any recognition or validation when I was a little girl (See Day Four – The Devilish Child) and later on in life I have never learned to validate myself or accept myself for what I am. Instead, I would do more and more and try harder and harder to get external validation or recognition. At first this appeared to fill the emptiness inside me, and therefore, I started to rely on this external validation. However, at the same time, it created and anxiety and fear to lose the recognition for it could be taken away at any time and would leave me without any control over how I would feel. This Catch 22 situation of accomplishments, pressure and anxiety has been my constant accomplice. 

So, this the plan of how to get rid of this brain-terror and to finally exit this emotional roller-coaster.

Affirmation Milestone 1: 

I learn to rely on myself for validation, only then I will be able sleep peacefully at night. I will give myself credit where credit is due. 

But this is a tricky one. With my mother constantly overindulging in praise for herself, there has always been the fear to become as narcissistic as she is and display a “grandiose sense of self-importance” and arrogance. Though trying as hard as I could, this narcissistic streak is in me as well – it took me a long time to finally admit it and it will take even longer to get rid of it.

Affirmation Milestone 2:

Giving myself credit for my achievements does not equal arrogance. I have a ton of real achievements that I can be proud of because I’ve worked so hard for them. I feel good about what I have already done and achieved.

But what if it’s not true? What if I am not as intelligent and lovely as some people think I am? Am I an impostor? Is all of this just a mirage?

Affirmation Milestone 3: 

I am not an impostor!!! I feel worthy of myself and I value myself and my accomplishments. I am learning to accept my success and the recognition of it for what it is.

However, the tendency to disparage myself and to play down any positive attributes for fear that someone will find me arrogant stems from being the target of my mother’s envy and hatred when I was a little girl. As a result I have lived with a general anxiety all my life, a lack of self-confidence, depression and a huge amount of frustration about my inability to meet these ridiculous self-imposed standards of achievement. Though my mother has hijacked my young accomplishments when I was little, I myself continue to do so today. Sadly.

What am I afraid of today?? I don’t live under the influence of my mother anymore!! I think I am afraid of my own courage, of my own shining light.

Affirmation Milestone 4:  

Mind the words of Marianne Williamson:[2]

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God (I prefer The Universe). Your ‘playing small’ does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God (The Universe) that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.  As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

Well, one does not necessarily have to bring God into the equation; I prefer to call it The Universe. You know how I feel about that. But reading it as I may, I do get the message. I’ve been told many times to ‘let my light shine’ not knowing exactly what was meant by that. I am now in the process of accepting that I have got a light, that I am a ‘light’. I am full of love, compassion, peace and happiness.

Affirmation Milestone 5:

(These words still hesitantly leave my mind for all the reasons mentioned above but I am saying them...that is a start. Believing them will follow.)

I am a true marvel. I have overcome great odds and am an amazing woman. Now I need to take care of myself and give myself the credit I deserve. Then I will be able to enjoy the marvel that I truly am and cherish myself as I deserve.

Affirmation Milestone 6:

I will remain positive and active. I will be patient with myself and get on with my life. I will not let the pain take over. I know the pain will go away, not tomorrow, but eventually I will make it go away. I will take control of the pain. Hurt doesn’t mean harm – I will keep exercizing. I will keep running. Running keeps me sane and balanced. I will throw in a bit of meditation and the perfect ointment is created. 

Anxiety, Frustration and Pain

Anxiety, stress and frustration release certainly chemicals in the brain and into the body that make us feel ‘not good’. And if there is a physical ailment or pain in a specific part of our body already (in my case my lower back – go figure!), the negative feelings and their accompanying chemicals cause the pain to intensify, be prolonged and ultimately become chronic.

Emotional traumas are engrained in our muscle memory just in the same way, and not dealing with them properly has got the same effect as anxiety, stress and frustration combined. Put these two together and you get ‘the passion of Helkele’. Painkillers don’t help. They only temporarily release the pain but don’t get to the bottom of it. Patience is the magic word. Patience and picking the right people to ask for help. I think I am on the right track as I can see small improvements and am happy about it.

Love

Not having been able to have a long-term, deep and meaningful relationship leads to the ultimate conclusion: There has got to be something wrong with me!!! Now, don’t say ‘no’ because as previously established – there is …plenty wrong with me. But all of this does not really matter and is actually irrelevant.

If a man happens to fall in love with me he will do so anyway, faults or not. There is not much I can do to help because I don’t have the power to influence other people’s feelings about me. Ultimately, that is the part that I don’t really like, I have to admit, the fact that I can’t control it. It is time for me to step out of fairy land and get real.

If somebody does eventually fall in love with me he will do so for his own reasons and not because I’ve lost a stone or because I’ve been over-polite or been trying hard to be funny when as a German I am not even supposed to have a sense of humour. 

If a man does fall for me it will be because of me. Full stop. (I can’t believe I am saying that but yes, that’s it. No magic, no tricks.)

All I can do to “help” this is to start making myself happy – in the meantime and forever. There are laws of attraction – you attract what you send out – or something like that. Which means: if I am happy and chirpy and relaxed, I will most likely attract men or human beings in general that are similar and swim in the same ocean. And that in turn will make me even happier. Easy-peasy.

Also, the less freaked out I am about this and the bio-clock ticking, the more I am likely to bring what I want into my life.

Affirmation Milestone 7

I recognize the things I can change and the things I cannot. I will take it easy, relax and see what happens. If there is one thing certain about life it is uncertainty.

I will find out what is toxic in my life and get rid of it.

I will find out what I want in life and will be honest about it.

I will find out what is fantastic in my life and will be thankful for it.

I will think more carefully about whom I am getting involved with and I will keep my wits about me when it comes to meeting new people.

I will try not to assume what other people are thinking because I don’t know.

I will try not to predict a negative depressing future but rather think of what it would be like if it were happy.

I believe that whatever happens happens and that I will be able to adjust and adapt to whatever situation arises.

I believe in my positives and in what is good about me.

I believe that only I have the power to determine how I feel and I will not let other people or circumstances make me feel bad about myself.

Finally, I love myself for who I am.

Epilogue

The route to self-discovery is long (time), wet (tears) and painful (literally). I started out by realizing that something wasn’t right and that something needed to change in order to get better (Day 1). I faced may own demons (Day 2) and life-draining loneliness (Day 3). Going back to my childhood was the part that harboured most of the anger I felt (Day 4) and the attempt to establish a sense of self (Day 5) just left me even more confused. And finally, trying to shake off all the emotional pain and healing the scars that were caused by growing up in my family was the most painful part.

I know that my journey isn’t over yet and I will keep ‘travelling’ and healing. But it is important to draw up a resume just to see where I stand in my development. Since I’ve consciously started this journey I have met a lot of people and made friends. In one way or another all of them have given me some input or highlighted some interesting aspect of myself. But all of them have taken a piece of me as well, a piece that I have willingly given and will continue to give willingly. I am very fortunate to have been surrounded by people who saw (and hopefully continue seeing) the good in me that I never could. I am so thankful for their patience, their friendship and their help (consciously or not) to unearth the real me.

I love you guys. xxx

---

[1] Karyl McBride, Will I ever be good enough? Healing the Daughters of Narcissistic Mothers, (New York: Free Press, 2008), Chapter Six, 87-97.

[2] Marianne Williamson, A Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of a Course in Miracles (New York: HarperCollins, 1992), 190-191.

...forgive them because they don't know what they've done...?!

Friends...
They know how you tick, they know lots about you, they will be there for you when you need them. They make you laugh, they cry with you if need be. They want you in their lives just as you want them to be in yours.

Is that what it means to be a 'friend'?
And when they don't tick all those boxes, are they not your friends anymore?
My friends deserted me when I needed them most.

When you feel completely lost, your emotions are on a constant rollercoaster, your mind is just blank and your body just functions - you turn to your closest friends for advice, comfort or just a hug.

When you are in such a state, you can't even express yourself because you don't know what it is you are expressing. My friends probably had the impression that they had to speak for me,  knew better what is best for me...but they didn't really listen to me. They didn't know me. Didn't try to understand me.
Instead, they started projecting they're own experience/thoughts and solutions on my problem. Which only made my head spin even more and my emotions and my will was relinquished to what I was hearing. I trusted them completely, because I loved them and because I was lost and they seemed to know the way out. But it was their way and not mine. What I really wanted didn't really matter at the time.

I took this advice because I was so vulnerable and in a state of shock and they were my friends and I loved them and was led to believe they loved me, too, and that they only mean well and - most of all - because I trusted them to be there for me when the sh** would hit the fan!!!

And when the sh** does hit the fan - who is really there for you?

My world fell apart. I lost the ground beneath my feet and I fell long and hard and to a million pieces. I was broken. I lost a very important part of myself as well as my soulmate. And when I did, I was alone. Very very much alone.

I didn't expect to be alone in this. I expected my friends to be there for me and help me through this. Hm, I must have been on a different planet because my friends were busy, had appointments, couldn't make it, were out of town...even my very own sister whom I considered to be my closest friend at the time had to go a concert when I needed her by my side. It was a matter of life or death.

They simply...turned away from me - something I didn't expect, something I couldn't handle on top of everything else.

At the time I needed them by my side and a simple reassurance that they would help me should the need arise - that is what I would have done for them. Full stop. No question. I didn't want any money, material things, a roof over my head...I just wanted them to say that they would be there for me and mean it.

What an empty phrase: they kept reassuring me: "oh sweetie, of course I'll be there for you" - they were never actually there for me. What is a line in an email or perfume and body lotion compared to a friend by your side? Giving you the biggest hug ever in an attempt to stop you from sobbing, handing you the tissues and possibly a glass of really strong wine? Sleeping beside you because you're still afraid that something is going to go bad over night and you'll  have nightmares. Even a line in an email or a text message is nothing compared to that. I needed hugs. I needed to see it in their eyes that they meant it.

So, friends, then, huh?...Where were they? Not there when I really needed them...When the sh** hit the fan they stopped caring for me, stopped loving me, were too much involved with themselves. When you've already fallen down the abyss and had your heart ripped out that is just what you need... NOT.
But I suppose nobody really wants to clean up somebody elses shit.

This was a severe blow to the head and to the heart and I am still working on the recovery today. My friends appeared back on the radar when 'the worst was over', claiming that they had been there for me all along. Really??? Strange but I don't remember them being there when I cried for days on end, when I wondered around town aimlessly not knowing where to go or what to do with myself, when I refused to sleep for days because the nights and nightmares were a regular trip to hell and back.

And because to me it seemed that they didn't care I had to swallow all those emotions and thoughts because I had noboby to talk to. They didn't want me when I was down and sad and broken. They only wanted me when I was back on top, funny and all smiles.
But that is  not how it works, or is it??!
Apart from the scars that formed from what happened, this was just as bad. Deep scars. Deep deep scars.

Eventually, I put myself together again, the will to have a second chance was stronger than the feeling of hopelessness, defeat and loneliness. It took two years. I did it alone.

The mad thing is though, that because they were my friends and because I had 'sworn' some emotionally allegiance to them I couldn't just break with them. Insane really. My friends actually let me rot in the gutter but still I felt for them?? What is wrong with me??

It took me a while to get to that stage but I told them how angry and lonely and deserted and unloved I felt when things happened and they left me.
But did that even matter? Was that going to change anything about what happened? Was that going to make me feel better or make me regrett less what happened? No. Not really. But my heart refused to believe that.
After I carefully expressed how I felt about their 'friendship' there were some moments of shock. Yes, but apparently, it was my fault for taking things too seriously - or even literally. "Oh sweetie, I didn't think you actuallly meant that I should be there - in person."
But seriously, what is there to misunderstand when you ask your friends to actually be there for you?
...silly me.. I probably should have booked the tickets for them and shoved them up their noses!!! But even then they mightn't have bothered to come...

Sadness overcomes me. I would have moved a mountain for each and every one of them, they would not even have to ask.

Can you imagine the tears of anger and frustration and most of all sadness??

Deep breath. Oooommm. Don't cry again. It's done. It's the past.

Now, what can I learn from this experience? What do I do with all of this?
How can I use this an opportunity for growth? Forgive them because they didn't know what they were doing?

I've tried the forgiveness thing - not sure I've succeeded. I'll keep trying.
But I learned never to trust those friends again. I learned not to trust 'new friends' but rather keep them - not at arm's length but rather a mile away - from me.
I have learned to rely on myself only and not on anybody else.  I am my very own best friend ever because I will always be there for me and I am strong enough to pick myself up - again if I have to.

I have learned not to commit, but this is a very lonely position to be in, to be honest.

I still talk to those friends but not very often. I keep my distance. Nothing is as before. Everything has changed. But incidently, I do care whether they live or die.

The scars however, are a constant reminder of what happens when you trust people too much and when you actually rely on their 'friendship'.

I have made some new friends over a year ago. And I am running the risk of 'demanding' too much of their friendship, so I am on my guard not to let myself get into this friendship-thing too deep.

 ...One of my new friends is brutaly honest with me but in a way that is neither hurtful nor patronizing. She respects my wishes and my opinions but she can also sense how I feel - without brushing my feelings aside, telling me it's all nonsense.
Do I want to commit to this friendship? I don't know, time will tell. But I wish I could have known her two years ago. She said something the other day that made me realize that that was what I wanted to hear  two years ago: "Luv, this is about you and not about what I think you should or shouldn't do. I can open my arms and help you find out what it is you want but I am not going to tell you what to do. Because deep down inside you know what is right for you. You don't need me to tell you that but I can help you bringing it to the surface."

Tears. Again and again.

As life goes: the past is the past. It is gone. I have grown. I keep telling myself not to look back.
Instead, I will look forward to the future and am not going to make the same mistakes, for if I do all the pain and suffering will have been for nothing.

So, choose your friends carefully. Feel the connection. The right friends will know the melodie of your heart and find you. You don't have to do much. If you don't feel this connection, trust yourself and protect your heart.

For "Happy" ;-)

xxx

Wear Sunscreen - Baz Luhrmann

http://lyrics.wikia.com/Baz_Luhrmann:Everybody%27s_Free_%28To_Wear_Sunscreen%29

 I so needed that today :-)

Ladies and gentlemen of the class of '99:
wear sunscreen.

If I could offer you only one tip for the future,
"sunscreen" would be it.

The long-term benefits of sunscreen
have been proved by scientists,
whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable
than my own meandering experience
I will dispense this advice NOW!

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth.
Oh, never mind;
you will not understand
the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded
but trust me: in 20 years,
you'll look back at photos of yourself
and recall in a way you can't grasp now
how much possibility lay before you
and how fabulous you really looked.

You are not as fat as you imagine.

Don't worry about the future.
Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective
as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum.
The real troubles in your life
are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind,
the kind that blindside you at 4 pm on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing every day that scares you.

Sing.

Don't be reckless with other people's hearts;
don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Floss.

Don't waste your time on jealousy:
sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind.
The race is long and, in the end, it's only with yourself.

Remember compliments you receive.
Forget the insults:
if you succeed in doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old love letters,
throw away your old bank statements

Stretch.

Don't feel guilty if you don't know
what you want to do with your life.
The most interesting people I know
didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives.
Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't.

Get plenty of calcium.
Be kind to your knees:
you'll miss them when they're gone.

Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't;
maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't;
maybe you'll divorce at 40;
maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary.
Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much,
or berate yourself either.

Your choices are half chance;
so are everybody else's.

Enjoy your body:
use it every way you can.
Don't be afraid of it or of what other people think of it:
it's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.

Dance.
Even if you have nowhere to do it but in your living room.

Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.

Do not read beauty magazines:
they will only make you feel ugly.

"Brother and sister together we'll make it through
Someday a spirit will take you and guide you there
I know you've been hurt

but I've been waiting to be there for you
And I'll be there just helping you out
Whenever I can..."

Get to know your parents:
you never know when they'll be gone for good.
Be nice to your siblings:
they're your best link to your past
and the people
most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go,
but with a precious few you should hold on.

Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle,
because the older you get,
the more you need the people
who knew you when you were young.

Live in New York City once,
but leave before it makes you hard.
Live in Northern California once,
but leave before it makes you soft.

Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths:
prices will rise,
politicians will philander.
You, too, will get old.
And when you do, you'll fantasize that when you were young,
prices were reasonable, politicians were noble,
and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don't expect anyone else to support you.
Maybe you have a trust fund,
maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse,
but you never know when either one might run out.

Don't mess too much with your hair
or by the time you're 40 it will look 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy,
but be patient with those who supply it.

Advice is a form of nostalgia;
dispensing it is a way
of fishing the past from the disposal,
wiping it off,
painting over the ugly parts
and recycling it for more than it's worth.
But trust me on the sunscreen.

("Brother and sister together we'll make it through
Someday a spirit will take you and guide you there
I know you've been hurt

but I've been waiting to be there for you
And I'll be there just helping you out
Whenever I can...")

Day Six of the Rest of My Life - Shake off the Past

...that is easier said than done...especially when it keeps haunting you...
It is the pain that doesn't seem to want to go away or even ease off...I'm not consciously obsessing about it or retrieving it just to make myself feel bad or to confirm that I am indeed a 'piece of sh...'.
It's more the sadness and the disappointment in the people that I love and who don't think I'm worth the effort....
My friend Claire told me last night that if they don't recognize that I am such a wonderful, strong and lovable person then they are blind and it's their loss. It makes sense. Totally. But the trouble is that the people I am talking about are my family.
How do you process that in your conscience and your emotional realm? What do you do with the realization that the people that you've loved unconditionally for most of your life actually set conditions for loving you and that they have had set these conditions the whole time? Why is it that my love for them feels so pure but their love for me is so tainted? I would have given my right arm for each and every one of them!!
I suppose the question is...do I really need their love in order to live? Do I need love in order to exist? If they told me they loved me or showed me in any other way that they love me and care about me would that really still have an impact on my life? Or are my emotions just stuck in the past? Trapped in some unforgiving episode of the soap called 'Life'???
I don't have an answer to those questions.
But ironically, as much love-deprived as I am, I feel so much love inside, love that I want to share...love that I have felt for my family in the past but which somehow doesn't seem appropriate anymore...love that needs to find an outlet. I know that I should put this love to myself, nurture and protect myself, love myself. I am in the process of doing that.
But loving myself does not take away the loneliness. I can love myself and accept myself even spend time with myself and enjoy it. But I still feel like the loneliest person on the planet simply by knowing that nobody loves me. Unconditionally. Just the way I am. Catch 22!!!
I am me and I can stand on my own two feet. I've done that since forever. But I've always been emotionally tainted and imprisoned in the void created by the lack of love. The only person who did love me for me died when I was 11. So, for the longest time ever I have not been emotionally independent because I have been chasing after love...
I would really like to shake off these emotional shackles. I want to be free. Free from the heavy burden I had to put on myself...the idea that I can only be somebody when I feel loved.
If my family loved me would that change anything, really? Would that really make me happy?? Or is it too late for that?Would it give me more self-confidence? Would it make me whole?
I have been loved - unconditionally -by my grandmother who ignited that tiny little flame inside me. That is what must have kept me going though I would have wanted to end it many times.
My therapist used to say that I should try and cherish the fact that yes, despite all the shit that's happened to me and all the pain I have been going through I still turned out to be this fantastic, lovable, loving, complex and delightful creature. And that I have done this all by myself! With the little help and sunshine I've received from my grandmother!
I suppose that nothing would really change if my family suddenly turned around and showed me that they loved me. It really wouldn't change anything. (I am trying to convince myself of that.) I would like to believe that I am not alone. I don't have anybody to care for yet but that doesn't mean that I am alone. I've got friends in a lot of places and I've got myself - my most priced possession. :))
I am just hoping that I will be able to listen to myself and take my own advice.
I will come back to read this. Again and again until it sticks.
Namaste.

Day Five of the Rest of my Life: I am what I am and not what you want me to be

...yes and it took a while for me to realize that - painfully. Why should I be what you want me to be when I get to be me???
Don't bully me into something I am not. I've been bullied all my life and I’ve had enough now. I don't want this anymore. I never really knew what it meant to say: 'If you don't love/like me for who I am then you don't deserve to be with me.' But it makes sense to me know. After all this time.
I am what I am and I am great the way I am - with all my faults and imperfections. I am unique and I am me.
Helga. Helkele. And that's it, really.
I am not this meeky little thing anymore – well of course I am still me but my core is protected now and I can stretch my spine and stand up straight and breathe a bit more freely.
The boots weren’t for me after all. I break in the boots and not the other way around. And when they don’t fit and hurt my feet I will not wear them anymore. It’s simple, really. And it took just one little comment of yours, K, – most likely unintentionally – to make me realize that if you don’t like me as a whole then you don’t like me at all. You don’t get to just like my hair or just my eyes or just my butt. In this case it’s all or nothing. And you chose nothing. I chose me.
Unfortunately, it cost me a few tears but I suppose that is how you (literally) get things out of your system.
I will try hard not to look for the good in people anymore, but rather want to try to recognize it when they reveal it to me. (Sometimes I don’t see it because it is too obvious. I am so used to having to dig things up or to fight for things...) When people don’t show it it’s probably not there. Because why would you want to hide your goodness from others? I don’t want to try to heal other people anymore but rather I will nurture myself and make sure that all the love I feel is passed on to the right person who deserves it. This is promise I make to myself and I intend to keep it. xxx

Intermission - Practice: Boots and VW girl

So, here I am ...trying to find myself....and instead I found S. Or better: he found me. We had an explosive beginning and a middle that consisted of raunchy sms and clandestine meetings and an abrupt guillotine ending. Two weeks. Wow!!! I found out quickly what I want and what I don't ...all the while trying carefully not to get emotionally involved too quickly. Hold your horses, I kept telling myself over and over again. Give it time. Give him time. But really?
Well, I do have an allergic reaction to people who are trying to press me into a mold that I don't want to be pressed into. That's good, I suppose. It's good that I can say 'no' and 'stop' when it doesn't feel right. But why don't I feel the satisfaction I should for standing up for myself??? Why does it taste bitter and why am I close to tears? It feels quite ridiculous even talking about this because this is what people do all the time...they buy a pair of shoes or boots, wear them a couple of times and with the generous capitalist policy in this country they can return them or dispose of them to their liking. It's quite normal, I guess. Well, I grew up in a country where it was very difficult to get any boots at all. But does that mean that now I have to feel bad for not wanting those boots? In the past I would have had to wear them...simply because there wasn't a choice and indeed a shortage of boots and actually of everything else... But hang on, I'm getting side-tracked into the shoe business and maybe slightly confuse men with boots? Very odd!
Anyhow, S is a lover of Ferrari-girls as he calls them...and from day one I was suspect about what he wanted with me anyway- a normal VW girl. Maybe it is my suspicion that killed it. Maybe I am too inflexible or maybe even too scared to find out what I would look like as a Ferrari or Porsche girl. Maybe. But what I know for sure is that I want to be able to express myself and what I want, and I want to be respected for that. I don't cope well with orders and commands especially when they only benefit other people and only please me on a secondary level.
Selfishness!!!! Yeah, that must be the key!!!!! Memo to self: Be strong, be selfish and tell to go and ..you know what. Yes! I can do this. Ommmm.
 But why am I not jumping up and down, celebrating my newly-found selfishness???? Is it because it's so new, unusual???
No! It is scary and intimidating and I don't know what to do with it especially since past experience has taught me that if you're (I, that is) selfish then you'll end up alone and unloved (that's my mother for you!)  Oh dear...
Well, I guess we shall see if that holds true as well.
In any case, deep down inside I don't think there is anything wrong with saying how you feel or what you think or what you want. S does it. All the time. And if S cannot respect what I have to say well then...thank god I kept the receipt! :-)

Day Four of the Rest of My Life

The Devilish Child – Part I

Once upon a time there was a baby, born to parents who didn’t love each other but rather got stuck with one another for various reasons. That child was the second in a row of three and had no idea what it was born into. Indeed, it was a cute little tabula rasa waiting to be filled with knowledge, emotions and experiences. The first two and a half to three years went by uneventful – or let’s say, unremembered. Although the child was normal in her development, she was somewhat an anomaly: the girl had fiery red and curly hair. In village mythology she would be called ‘the devilish child’: made by the devil, with an evil mind of her own, doomed for hell and therefore to be made the scapegoat for everything negative and horrible. Now, who can blame the young mother for being embarrassed to be seen with her walking around in the village?

The little girl was curious by nature and took everything in … a bit like a sponge…registering words and experiences…and pictures, emotions…having too little knowledge for verification and reference. She was particularly susceptible to sounds and phonetic differences especially in tone of voice.  

So, when lovely Mom said, “Krause Haare, krauser Sinn, steckt der ganze Deiwel drin“, at three years old the little girl was at an age where she was able to understand the threatening ‘under-tone’ with which this phrase was repeatedly uttered. And that happened whenever she seemed to have upset her mother by not behaving like a proper three-year-old was supposed to behave (whatever that behaviour may be). More importantly, positive reinforcement and self-confidence building was not something her Mom’s repertoire had in store for Helkele – that’s her name, by the way. In fact, that devil phrase and allusions to it would creep into the daily routine - unannounced, and inconspicuous but not unnoticed by Helkele. No wonder that soon the little girl started to believe that she was the devil’s breed and not of this world.

Feeling bad about herself, she tried to do everything to make her Mom happy and love her – Mom obviously didn’t love probably wouldn’t have abused her verbally and emotionally to the extent that she did. When things went wrong Helkele felt it was her fault and she started to feel sorry for everything and began uploading the weight of the world on her shoulders. But because Helkele was only so very little and so dependent on her parents, our redhead did everything she could to please Mom and Dad and everybody else around her. Even at her young age she started to take care of other people – her two sisters above all. And in doing so she received feedback that made her feel good about herself. Later in life… this would become an addiction that would eat her up from the inside.

Growing up she never thought of herself as being worth a penny or even pretty. ‘Don’t be so vain’, ‘Gosh don’t be so arrogant’, ‘Who do you think you are?’ were the words she would regularly hear from that one person she wanted to love her. And because her Mom was as rejecting as she was, Helkele felt a great emotional pull from her lovely granny – obviously to the dismay of her mother. Oma Frieda became this one trusted and loving figure in her life who would give her the unconditional love she was so longing for. It made Helkele proud to hear that she looked like her granny when she was her age. It made her proud that her granny, too, had red hair when she was young – and obviously because she was so lovely and absolutely fantastic, there could not have been anything wrong with her. And there, just there, for a few tiny moments Helkele dared to think that maybe there isn’t something wrong with her either, that maybe red hair is pretty and that maybe she, too, might be loveable. This deep emotional connection to her granny gave her a little bit of strength and self-confidence…for a short little while.

But then Oma Frieda died. Out of the blue. Just like that did she leave her. Helkele had seen her two days before she passed away and back then they had made plans to do some tailoring and sewing and cooking together and just to have a great time.

When granny died, Helkele was only ten years old and her whole world - the only good world she knew - collapsed. She was devastated, everything fell apart. But she was supposed to be tough because crying wouldn’t bring granny back – she was told. Helkele tried to understand what had happened but she couldn’t make sense of it. She couldn’t figure out why Oma had left her. She probably wouldn’t have gone, Helkele figured, if she had been a good girl. So, there was something wrong with her after all…

From then onwards everything seemed to make sense to her. Mom was simply right: She was the devilish child; who from now on needed to be punished for everything negative that happened. Guilt became her alter ego. Mom and Dad didn’t get along – that must be because of her. The bad weather was her fault, too, as Mom told her when she was only six, that it rains only when God is sad because she had been such a bad girl - again. Her granny, her Mom told her, was an evil woman (mother-in-law to be exact) and one day, she promised, Helkele would become just as evil and fat/heavy just as granny was at the time she died, when she was 66!

 Oma Frieda was gone and so was anything positive, the little love that she felt had died with her. Mom didn’t leave and she said terrible things about her – but at least she was there…emotional dependency laid bare.

Day Three of the Rest of My Life - Draculon

He approaches slowly, steadily, not walking – but floating softly a few inches above the ground. The cold and mutinying air that surrounds him announces his coming.

He is tall, and dark and oh! is he handsome! I would almost describe him as ‘hot’ but I know better. His dark, almost black, marble-shaped eyes suck me in – if I let them. His opaque, refreshingly cold skin is as soft as satin sheets. The dark moustache makes him look like a melange of the Count of Montechristo and a Romanian prince. And his smell! This tobacco-y, musky scent - excites all my senses…and tames me.

He is strong! And when he puts those muscular arms around me I feel protected by his cold masculinity. And trapped – like a bird in a cage.

He goes by the name of Draculon and he is the loneliness I loathe so much and desperately crave.

I love him madly. When he is with me we merge into one when he cradles me under his big, heavy and majestic cape. He sweeps me off my feet and we go to far-off places only he can take me to. I melt under his cold touch – when he gently caresses my face, my neck, my shoulders…every minute with him is cherished like a precious gift.

I tell him to leave when I feel stronger, when my head is occupied by presumably meaningful stuff swirling and twirling about, keeping me busy trying to sort things out; when there are people I can try to please and appease. But that’s when he’s desperately trying stay because he gets jealous. He can’t bear to share me with others. But I won’t let him; it gets too much. I ignore him and that’s what kills him.

He is there for me though, when I am weak. I don’t even have to invite him; Draculon just appears unannounced to comfort and love me and hold me. Just like that. He knows. He knows how to seduce me. I get lost in his velvety eyes and plunge deep and deeper into is endless soul. And then he starts caressing my neck and his soft lips carefully nibble on my skin. His breath remains cold and steady but I can tell that he gets really excited. He knows he’s got me. Within a split second he snaps out his razor-sharp fangs and hacks them into my skin and starts drinking – wildly at first – thereon slowly sucking the life out of me. I see little stars before my eyes, and the adrenalin rush provides the kick. The kick that doesn’t last very long because slowly, slowly I start losing my senses and sink deeper into his bleak soul.

How I ever manage to escape from his tight grip, this life-draining fear is a mystery to me. Maybe there is an early warning system within me that prevents him from consuming me completely. Perhaps a phone call, text message or e-mail from a friend – a sign that someone cares – that is what brings me back. And then, as if turned on by a switch, I warm up again. From my core, out to my legs, my arms, my neck and face - life is quickly rushing back into every cell in my body.

Once Draculon, is gone – I barely remember what it was like to be with him; lying next to him, feeling his strong arms entrapping me, sucking my spirit into his black and bottomless soul.

But I remember the thrill, the thrill of coming back into existence, the warmth threading and sewing me together again. A tiny rebirth. A kick I can’t live without.

Day Two of the Rest of my Life. At war with me, myself and I.

 (Note: not everyday counts towards the days of the rest of my life...)

 

Now, I figured that before I can go and forge new plans for the rest of my life I need to figure out what is going on with me. (Yeah, what’s up witchou, woman?)

Don’t worry. I am not so arrogant as to attempt to answer the universal questions that even Aristotle or Plato weren’t entirely able to figure out: Who am I? Where do I come from? And, what the hell am I doing here?

I don’t attempt to be as philosophical as that – rather a bit more practical, and I will focus on the microcosm that is me, myself and I. How do I feel as microcosm about myself and within the macrocosm which is my immediate universe (i.e. the city in which I live and work, the friends I surround myself with and my family)?

So, how do I feel about myself? Instead of giving a textbook answer (I’ve always rebelled against what the majority would do…), ‘Oh, I love myself to bits,’ I’d rather go: “Oh, gee, I don’t know,’ or would rather counter with “Why are you asking me such a stupid question?” (Note here that the internal monologue or better even, the internal conversation with myself – which I always denied existed – has begun...)

The odd thing is that how we feel about ourselves is always always always very different to how other people see us, feel about us and think about us.

“You are an amazing woman.” “You are gorgeous and funny and just the nicest person.” “You are so sweet.” “I know you’ll be a good mother.” “You are really hot.” “You deserve to be with a man who really appreciates you. He is out there and you’ll meet him some day.” (This last statement, btw really horrifies me: the prediction that ‘some day’ I will meet my ‘Mr. Right’….I have always been very sceptical of that because let’s look at the facts: what exactly are the chances that this person, this Mr. Right will be in the same city, the same country, even the same continent at the same time when I am in my sexual and physical prime? What if he lives in a far-away country on some far-away continent? Do I really have to go out looking for him? (Saying that: isn’t he supposed to come looking for me?!) However, because I am quite emancipated, I don’t mind looking for him. But the most upsetting thing is: I don’t event know what I am supposed to be looking for! And, more importantly, I don’t even know where to look for him? Do I really have to travel to every single continent on this earth to find my ‘Mr Right’? Not that I really mind the travelling, in fact, that would probably be the part I would enjoy the most. But, let’s be serious here: probability theory applied – what chance have I got to actually meet him? (I am sure my friend J would be able to write a fantastic algorithm for that!). Ohh, long deviation… let’s get back to other people’s perception about me.

No matter how often and in which variation they say nice things about me and no matter how positive they feel about me – I don’t get it. I just don’t get it. Or – better – I don’t feel it. I don’t feel about myself the way other people do. I can understand why they might say that I am pretty and not entirely out of shape. Objective. Facts. But I don’t feel it, which doesn’t necessarily mean that I am a complete ice block – what with me being German and all that wouldn’t be too far-fetched - but it is more like something or someone is disabling me from feeling this way about me.

And because nobody is standing behind me with a whip – and even my mother has disappeared from my right shoulder – it must be of my own making. It’s like I am constantly at war with me, myself and I.

For years I have been exploring the reasons for this self-deprecation, self-devaluation, self-destruction and self-loathing. I have come close to solving some of these issues (and I have to mention here that Dr H. would probably do a little jig and clap in her hands if she knew that I can finally accept some pieces of myself) but still they are holding me back and hostage from myself and in myself.

Why in heaven’s name would anyone punish herself for things that other people have fucked up or didn’t get right? Nobody, obviously. But because we are slaves to our subconscious we can’t help it. Or at least I can’t.

Yep, you guessed right - it goes all back to the childhood -  patterns that were formed when the brain wasn’t quite finished yet…emotional memories that were saved without having been analyzed or explained or discussed…patterns that have ingrained themselves on top of each other creating thick layers in the gooey river that is our subconscious, interacting very strangely and autonomously with actual present-day experiences and emotions. Oh, how I love Freud!!

Now, I am not sure whether this should be alarming or not. But I what I have learned over the years from my endless sessions with the nicest shrinks is that: I matter. I matter to me, myself and I. And letting those three down is apparently the worst thing that can happen to you (although thinking of all the atrocities, war crimes and natural disasters in this world I doubt that very much). But obviously, nobody can really truly love you until you love thyself.

And there you have it: it’s easy. Just love yourself and you’ll be fine. (Duh! Why did nobody ever tell me? Why did I have to find out for myself? I could have spared me, myself and I many deeply disturbing mental boat rides…seriously!)

Have I finally discovered who I am and what I am and how I am? How my microcosm interacts with the macrocosm and the universe??? Duh! No!!

I am obviously a WORK IN PROGRESS, and therefore, not a doll that is sitting on a shelf in some social shop waiting to be picked up by Mr Right. And judging by the name ‘Mr. Right’ he obviously isn’t for me because he’d probably be looking for a ‘miss’ he can turn into ‘Mrs Right’ or Mrs Perfect. But I am not perfect and quite frankly – I don’t want to be. Perfection is a) boring and b) very subjective. So, for me there is only a ‘Mr.’ and he could be any guy. And if he really is for depends on whether he’d accept me as WORK IN PROGRESS and whether I would let him do that. (And this goes back to Day One …about what I want…)

Whether I love myself or not – I am a lovable person – actually all three of us are (me, myself and I). And we get on great – despite the occasional wars we have got amongst each other. I don’t think that people’s opinions about me should matter  - and to be fair in times of peace they don’t but let me tell you, in times of war between me, myself and I -  they are all that seems to matter. (Pause. Note: I really do sound like a schizophrenic. Help! – Or is that actually normal?)

So, I am really trying hard to keep the peace…within me with myself and I.

Day Two of the Rest of My Life (Note: not every day counts towards the Days of the Rest of My Life) - At war with Me, Myself and I

Day One of the Rest of My Life

Oh dear, that sounds actually quite gloomy...but it's not meant to be. What this is supposed to mean is that - yes, from today onwards I want to be happy.

I want. Big words. Easy to say. I want. The question is, however, what is it I want? And more importantly, how do I know what I want? Because what I want changes. Like the leaves on a tree. Only more quickly. More drastically...as in yesterday for example, I wanted to move to Geneva. And today I want to go on a Yoga-retreat-ultimate-self-discovery-journey to Goa...and tomorrow I might want to move to a small town by the seaside and be a teacher again. Not that everything I want mutually excludes everything else I want. But I seem to want everything exclusively and absolutely.
(Oh dear, I guess a team of shrinks would have a blast reading this, analyzing all my 'issues').

Happy. Always the ultimate answer to the question that comes up right around the end of a year: What is your New Year resolution? So, what are your plans for the coming year? Answer: I want to make myself happy. Ensuing question to myself– well, you guessed right – but how the hell do I do that? How do I know that I’m happy? Or maybe am I happy already and just don't know it? Do I have to be unhappy when I know that I am not happy? Am I not happy because I don't get what I want (see paragraph above)? Am I asking myself the wrong questions? Am I asking questions that I know are impossible to answer and therefore give me reason enough to fret and moan about my all-so-unhappy self?

Happy = lightness. Opposite to unhappy, darkness, heavy darkness, gloom. But can you be ultimately 100% happy with everything that you are, with everything you’ve got – or are people just lying to themselves and are actually just as unhappy as I am?
For me it’s always been a question of principle: all or nothing. Ganz oder gar nicht.
But as I have painfully realized – ‘ganz oder gar nicht’ geht nicht.
I would like to move from ‘wanting to be happy’ to actually being ‘happy. What if I am happy already but I don’t like to admit it because if I do I’ve got nothing else to worry or fuss about? Well, that’s pathetic, you would think. But think again. Especially when it is me, we’re talking about...

Or maybe I am asking myself the wrong questions. Or I should stop asking questions altogether and just make up statements and believe in them as if there were true...a la: Well, I am happy. Period. I am happy and I make myself believe that I am. Self-deception? Get outta here! No way!

Anyway, you see what I mean? And this is just the beginning...there is more where this brain crap is coming from...
But not today. Tomorrow.

Day one of the rest of my life...

Oh dear, that sounds actually quite gloomy...but it's not meant to be. What this is supposed to mean is that - yes from today onwards I want to be happy.