I have avoided living my life and taking control of it, and have been a silent witness and have lived outside of my life. Almost all my life I have followed this pattern and have been anxious to want to live life on my terms, and anxious and depressed for having subjected my life for being an outsider to it, and have developed self doubts to a great extent that again circulates the anxiety stream back in my body as if regurgitating on these ill beliefs and enabling it myself to stay stuck in this rumination which has become my routine for decades and decades. I have been completely ignorant of this self imposed limitation that has made me scared of living life and living outside of my fears of such non living.
Although the emotional abuse received from my mother and the combined environment at home in childhood have been the reasons for my stuck feelings, it's letting go these anxieties and fears about living life by myself, authentically and with secure sense of self dependence that seem daunting to me. But since I have stepped into feeling my feelings and realizing the painful lack of awareness of my life's truths which were wrapped in layers and layers of numbness and toxic attachments to the pattern mentioned above, it's this very same initiative to own my life and my truths that I had avoided for so long that's bringing back my long suppressed emotional pains into life and for my living and releasing them.
I was subjected to body shaming, guilt tripping for being too weak(I am sensitive, body and mind, that's all) and projected as a fellow victim by my mother in the name of securing her attachment with me in this toxic obsessive way which just broke my spirit for living my life which I had to scramble together, brokenness, pieces and all, but still it's a lot of time wasted in not living my life which is a missed opportunity. But here I am, still alive and still true to my feelings and life learnings that being real, being who I really am feels worth it.
Sadly the anxiety that had kept me clouded, stressed, and hyper vigilant about my mother's regular criticisms on my body, my health, made me withdrawn and stay deeply hidden from her prying, critical eyes for any further criticisms in the form of repressing my boiling feelings like anger, irritation, and so on was just similar to placing the vessel(my mind) on simmered heat(repressed feelings) for too long and expecting the same mind to carry me through my future ahead with clear plans and concrete goals, which was a matter of idealistic imaginations and unrealistic fantasies which became an extension of me.
When this disordered mindset gets regulated, then we fall trap to our own thought process and limitations believing tendencies which become root causes to then avoid living our actual, real lives as my life is proof of it. Anyway, I am really thankful to the intuitions that didn't stop talking to me despite my shutting off and keeping my mind and life open to only very few relationships. It's the truth within these intuitions that made me realize that I am not true to myself and I had to get down to the root of this matter one day at a time.
It's an opening, a discovering journey of hidden wounds and scars which would be a lifelong process but not at the cost of forsaking my present, my reality in the moment by living in the hard to forget, hard to numb anymore hurts from my past. History need not repeat unless we tune into it as a routine everyday thing and feel sad and stuck for lack of better awareness as I had been doing over and over, repeating what could have gone right in order to have avoided whatever that had gone wrong - this is no self responsibility taking but just creating reasons to be self critical and hyper analytical about my past. The wound stays opened and only half released as holding to the remaining parts in the hope that some day, somehow the past could all start to make better sense is just my rigid logical side of mind speaking loud and clear. I hear that too and I accept the feelings of betrayal, anger, confusion towards my mother which are the side effects of the half released wound which hurts nevertheless.
But I need to move on too. As much as sitting with my hurts and feeling them and releasing them is important, it's equally so that I forgive myself fully for having allowed myself to get that hurt and broken in the first place. It's okay...shit happens. Centering on whatever life that's left in my quota I shall try living to the fullest.
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