The voices in our head

28 08 2013



I just woke up with a pounding heart. I don’t want to publish the article I wrote yesterday, was the first thing that crossed my mind. The next thing I did was tell myself that I was just being nervous,  and  that of course I would publish it, there was no real reason not to. – But there is! ‘I don’t want to’ is reason enough! – But you wrote it yesterday, yesterday you wanted to publish it. – I thought I wanted to, but I guess I don’t want to after all. – O, stop whining, just publish it! – No, I don’t want to! – Well then you have nothing to publish, do you? What will you write about then? May I remind you it is Wednesday already. You don’t have time to write something else! – O, I don’t know, maybe I’ll just write about you. Read the rest of this entry »

Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

21 08 2013



With the vacation becoming a memory and things getting back to normal, stress levels are up again. Not steadily rising, but surging out of seemingly nowhere. I feel a strong resistance to get back to my life again, anger and sadness for being pushed back into a format that feels restrictive.  Although this resistance feels highly uncomfortable, I watch with curiosity what is unfolding within me. I understand I am not reacting to this situation, I am merely triggered by it.

My body feels heavy and dense, compressed by something enormous that is weighing me down. I have difficulty breathing, I feel smothered. It hurts. I can’t be who I am. I have to adapt constantly to the needs of others. If I don’t I will die. A  constant fear of not being loved, of dying. Pockets of pain deep inside me. They need to be voiced. The anger of not being allowed to be me, needs to come out, finally. They’re bursting to the surface, like old WWII bombs that still linger on dutch moorlands. All my life, I have accommodated and adapted to the needs of others. It is a survival tactic. It is a behavior pattern, an automatism. I am so good at it, that Read the rest of this entry »