Very intimate diaries  11

I have long tried to "neutralize" the negative waves of events before they reach me. In vain! Until I realized that the waves and negative events will always be; it’s my reaction that I have to change.

(....)

All my life, I looked for and waited for the "psychological clicks" that would wake up my mind, my brain and finally solve various mental knots where I was chained.

Like lights that would suddenly be on.

But I still bogged down in this big intolerable darkness until one day I realized I could not see them because I had my eyes closed...

(....)

Sometimes when I’m writing my Pages, I enter a kind of hypnotic and meditative state so strong that, for a few seconds, I have no knowledge of what I have just written.

(....)

A while ago, I thought of all these numerous years of painful therapies and medications I had been through, dozens and dozens thoughts of death that had crossed my mind and I realized that as deeply nourishing and uplifting that might be the love of my family and my friends, it was not what could make me want to stay alive, but the following questioning: Is it enough? Did I accomplish my mission? Is it time to go?

I have found no answer. That's why I'm still here.

Very intimate diaries  8

Sometimes in the morning I'm dreaming and when I wake up I'm still in my dream as if my brain thought it was part of reality and when I return to reality, I’m often very depressed because of the reality check.




I noticed that when I’m less physically active ... I become more tired.




When I’m told that I have a lot of "presence" it’s generally when I feel the most fragile.




I tried the thing with the elastic at the wrist; it seems to have some effect. But in the long run my wrist gets very reddish!




I’m again and again obsessed with the thought, “What will soon happen to me?”




Writing, eating, drinking, making love, laughing are in pleasure’s world my top 5.




When I’m writing, my sentences on the lines of my notebook remind me of those little paths that I created in the sand with my toy trucks.




Slowly, in my head, I’m going from total monologue to genuine dialogue.

Very intimate diaries  5

I do what I can do. I slowly move forward. That’s the way it is.



I am everywhere at once, except where I have to be. Very effective!!

(Another Day)

That’s the vision of me who’s so distorted.

I remain me, in writing, what I am.



I asked myself so many questions being young; others seemed to find answers so easily.



I sometimes feel "exhausted" from words.

(Another Day)

When I work hard on me some changes of mind can be so profound, almost radical, such as a coat or a veil which I remove sharply.



"I do what I can, when I can, where I am, with what I am ..."



I think I can be a control freak sometimes.



I would like to have as much compassion for me as I often have for others...

Very intimate diaries 3

I have intense emotional paralysis. (...) It’s true that there’s some anger in all this. A big bundle of anger. In fact, it’s hundreds of small, medium and large rages all piled on top of each other.
That's what has paralyzed me, I guess.

(...)

Does fate really exist? Is it what I thought it was when I was young, and I felt I had something great to achieve?

(...)

(Another Day)

I live my life a lot on pity and the idea “not to disappoint.” I don’t live my life in function of me a lot I think…

(...)

All I know is that I try to be approved, validated constantly.

(...)

(Another Day)

It seems to be going rather slowly… That's good!  I'll have more time to mourn a number of things ...

(...)

Do I have any superstitions? Telling me that if things go well, I will pay dearly, it is not a superstition, right? Sure!!
Luckily that I told myself I no longer had them!!

(...)

(Another Day)

Things take place one by one, slowly.

(...)

Sometimes, I'm afraid to write... I know how it’s demanding and what that costs me in energy ...

(...)

(Another Day)

I just read Brainlock (Jeffrey M. Schwartz)

 
(...)

Sometimes that lasts for two full days (the obsessive negative thoughts). And there may be residues (flashbacks) for the next three, four days. It's so ingrained in me ...
For de-focused, I sing a little. I also use a mental positive picture.

(...)

Do I still have the right to dream?

(...)

If my fountain pen had the strength of the biggest will in the world...
Could it be possible? I wish…

Very intimate diaries 2

I am looking for my inner dynamo.

(...)

I'm glad I managed, gradually, in "downloading" of things.

(...)

 

And if I could express my anger and pain by drawing?

(...)

(Another Day) 

I think the Morning Pages make me feel good inside. I seem to crush, to eliminate fears and everything else. As if that was cleaning in full every time.

(...)

The important thing is to keep writing (regardless of frequency). I know at some point I'll end up getting a more regular and a more frequent pace.

(...)

I'm scared I'm so scared. As if I could ... As if all good that can happen to me masks a great misfortune. As if I should not move, speak, or do anything, or something will explode. Otherwise, misfortune appears. I mustn’t tell him (the misfortune) that I found positive and happiness. As if a murder is committed, otherwise. And it's loud it's so strong it's unbelievable. Once again, it's really crippling.

(...)

What do I do with this little “creative genius” that I have in me? He won’t die that’s for sure! I wonder why he's so strong ... (...) It's so strange ... Looks like it's there to allow me to get the steam out.

(...)

I don’t create because I’m in a crisis, and I’m in a crisis because I don’t create...

This n' that 5

When I took the train to leave my little town for my studies, I was torn apart between this new freedom to discover the world and the well-being and love I felt in my home town with my family and friends. A huge sadness occurred and I had an intense feeling of uprooting, which continues even today. 

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When my father died, I felt a tremendous relief.
Then, the regrets and the guilt fell on me like a ton of bricks.

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On my gravestone: he was loved…

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I am amazed how easy it is for me to guess, to feel others.

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I’m constantly in need to prove that I have the right to say, to think, to write.

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“Don’t forget that the others also live a fight; they’re warriors who look for resting.”

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My concentration: I’m here, I’m not here, I’m here, I’m not here, etc.

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Don’t be afraid anymore to say:
"I want to finish what I was saying..."

"Give me still a minute or two…"

"Just wait a little until I finish…"

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A staircase is built from the bottom up, but it’s swept from top to bottom.