Choosing Your Emotional State

“Bad things do happen; how I respond to them defines my character and the quality of my life. I can choose to sit in perpetual sadness, immobilized by the gravity of my loss, or I can choose to rise from the pain and treasure the most precious gift I have – life itself.” ~ Walter Anderson

 

I travelled to see a new Lyme doctor yesterday. In Australia they are getting harder and harder to come by. This one lives hours from my home, so we allocated an entire day and my husband Ben drove me. I am still not up to driving most days, and certainly not a trip of this distance.

After 2 years of intense antibiotic therapy which saved my life, I was unable to find anyone to continue my treatment, and had to stop midway through a program of therapy. Why? My first doctor was shut down, and my second stepped away from practice. My third doctor wouldn’t treat me because of the risks to their career, although they were happy to supervise me on the protocols of a previous doctor until my medications ran out. so, like at many other times in my life I was back to doing my own doctoring.My fourth doctor, the one who initially diagnosed me, still refuses to treat me because it’s ‘too controversial’ – although they will put me on a ‘wellness program’.

Since then I’ve supported myself with herbs, diet, essential oils, acupuncture and detoxing. I have a good GP who is supportive but doesn’t know anything about Lyme. I’d been doing pretty well, apart from a few hospitalisations. But now my chest pain is coming back, and some other worrying symptoms. Symptoms that recently eased when I went on a course of antibiotics for something entirely unrelated. So I know I need to be back under the care of a lyme literate doctor.

To be honest, yesterday was a difficult day. As we drove I knew that my friend Liz was above me in the sky somewhere, winging her way to Hawaii with her family. After a recent cancer prognosis Liz knows she has a very short time left on this earth. I was thinking of her, and the conflicting emotions she would be feeling as she made the journey for what might be her last holiday with her loved ones.

When I wasn’t thinking about Liz I was reviewing my thick folder of health notes. These aren’t all my notes and results. Just the ones from the last few years. The entirety of my notes fills a filing cabinet, and that isn’t even all of them. In fact, in peaks of chagrin or frustration I have thrown many away.

As I looked through my medical files, I became increasingly distressed. I’ve been seriously ill since my late teens. This illness has shaped my entire adult life. Restricted my life. Impaired my life. Almost ended my life on more than one occasion.

I looked at all of the notes from doctors and specialists and natural therapists who didn’t believe me, or put the blame on me when I didn’t respond to treatment. I looked at all of my various diagnoses and treatment plans stretching back to my late teens, when I first became very ill.  I am now nearing fifty and was only given a Lyme diagnosis in early 2013. I could fill a notebook with the diagnoses I’ve had before that.

I thought about all of the doctors whose practices have been shut down over the years for electing to help people like me who are falling through the cracks of the medical system.

I thought of the people I know who have suicided because of Lyme when they couldn’t take the pain anymore, couldn’t see a way out, were getting worse despite their best efforts, couldn’t find any support, or whose loved ones grew weary of the burden of their care. Of all of the sufferers who have never been believed or taken seriously, although they are desperately ill.

I thought of all of the lyme sufferers I know who have died from this disease, or the complications that have arisen from this disease.

I thought of how much money and time I have thrown at this, for such limited results.

And I got angry.

So here I was. Angry and nervous.

Nervous because what if this new doctor turned me away? What if they didn’t believe me?

I forgot to say fearful. I was fearful too. Because I am so much better than I have been and this chest pain is awful and I am so frightened of sliding back to where I was. Or worse.

By the time we arrived at our destination I was a churning mess, although I was trying to hold onto optimism.

The appointment itself was frustrating. The doctor wants more information. They are being very careful. Who wouldn’t, in a climate of such persecution of medicos? While they review all my recent results from the past few years, and discuss my case, I will wait. Hopefully this doctor will then take me on and I will finally have a supervised course of action.

As we drove home in a car filled with silence, I came to a profound understanding.

Most of my life I have faced hardship, especially in regard to my health. Despite that I have remained optimistic. I have made plans. I have held to a vision of a positive future. I have lived despite my disease.

This year I have so many lovely things organised. I am blessed with my husband and the love of my two crazy hounds. My little farm fills my soul with peace. I am well enough to work. I am finally well enough to travel. (Yes, I have chest pain and yes that freaks me out, but I have travelled and lived with this before and been fine, and if I croak it, it won’t matter anyway!)

So I decided yesterday that what matters most is my attitude. I just can’t afford to get bogged down in the injustice and awfulness of it all. I can’t get bogged down in my own personal history. I can’t even get bogged down in my current situation. I have to stop opening that damned folder! I need to rise above this, to turn my face towards the sun and stop looking behind me.

When I think of my plans and I sit in gratitude for my life, I can still be happy. I can still feel good inside.

That dark bird of death always sits on my shoulder. Just as she follows each one of us. But I am comfortable with her now, and she helps me to remember what is important and good in my life. Her presence is a blessing because I am reminded to live mindfully, to chose what matters and to live that. No more for me the life of an automaton. I cannot take life for granted and I won’t.

None of it matters, really. We will all die. We don’t know when. But while we are alive, we can live. And what we choose to think and focus on colours every single day.

I cannot always choose my outcomes or my circumstances, but I can choose my thinking. And that is a powerful place to be.

 

 

A Me Update

Image from ibnlive.in.com

Image from ibnlive.in.com

“Solar Eclipse

Each morning
I wake invisible.

I make a needle
from a porcupine quill,
sew feet to legs,
lift spine onto my thighs.

I put on my rib and collarbone.

I pin an ear to my head,
hear the waxwing’s yellow cry.
I open my mouth for purple berries,
stick on periwinkle eyes.

I almost know what it is to be seen.

My throat enlarges from anger.
I make a hand to hold my pain.

My heart a hole the size of the sun’s eclipse.
I push through the dark circle’s
tattered edge of light.

All day I struggle with one hair after another
until the moon moves from the face of the sun
and there is a strange light
as though from a kerosene lamp in a cabin.

I pun on a dress,
a shawl over my shoulders.

My threads knotted and scissors gleaming.

Now I know I am seen.
I have a shadow.

I extend my arms,
dance and chant in the sun’s new light.

I put a hat and coat on my shadow,
another larger dress.
I put on more shawls and blouses and underskirts
until even the shadow has substance”
~ Diane Glancy

 

It’s been easy, in recent weeks, to forget for hours at a time, or even days, that beneath my skin lurk a host of bacteria. Lyme, bartonella, babesia and some other nameless beasts. They drill through the flesh and fluids of my interior. Many have been killed over these past two years as I have flooded my body with antibiotics, herbs and essential oils. But not all.

It’s the ones that remain which are so bothersome. Some have not been well targeted by any protocols I’ve yet undertaken. Others have cleverly changed form. They deconstruct parts of me and then rebuild themselves with pieces of my DNA, rendering themselves invisible to my immune system. They slough their cell walls and then slip into my own cells soundlessly, hidden from view. Hidden from drugs. Hidden from so many kinds of treatment.

These past weeks I haven’t thought much about all of these pesky invaders. Instead, I’ve tasted normal. I’ve known delights lost to me for so long I’d feared I’d never know a time for them again.

My body is stronger. My mind is working better. My immune function is the best it has been in years. So my docs asked if I felt ready for a round or two of more aggressive drug treatment before I went back to gentler, more natural methods of healing. Intuitively for me it was a yes – before I even got my bloods back. Yes. Ready. So, we began last week.

I’m lucky – I had the luxury of some free time before I need to be functioning well again for work. Weeks I had slated for writing time and a holiday before I gear up for my next retreats became the perfect opportunity for embarking on new treatment adventures. I knew this was right timing. It all seemed to fall so easily into place for me.

Except that I’d conveniently forgotten just how horrible such treatment adventures can be.

Oh.

My.

Goodness.

It started with vomiting and pain. My body did not like the drugs. Or what they were doing to me.

The misery ramped up as the bacteria within me began to die. Glands the size of golf balls. Night sweats. Fevers. Chills. Seizures. A tongue that rolled around in my head unable to grasp at words, or to make much more sense than a drunk. A brain on holiday. Night and day merged, hours merged. It got messy. Really messy.

Then there was the pain.

I’d forgotten about the pain, and how bad it can be. Body pain. Nerve pain. Brain pain. How did I ever live with this pain before? This loss of function? This rendering of myself into a million screaming and incoherent fragments?

There have been other delights too. Loss of vision. Confusion. Immense fatigue. The kind of fatigue where it takes all you have to lift your head from the bed, or to track your eyes across a room. Indignities such as loss of bladder control. Streaming eyes and nose. Rashes and shakes and parts of me misbehaving, no matter what my brain was bidding that body part to do.

Everything that had become easy was suddenly hard again.

But I know it’s not for long.

I know it’s just for this short window of time, after which this current treatment will end and I’ll step back, regroup and allow my body time for healing and rehabilitation.

There’s not one pill that will fix this. Not one magic bullet. I have thirty years of complex bacterial infection. On top of that, all of the chaos and damage those infections have caused to my brain, my organs, my central nervous system and hormonal systems.

What I’m doing to heal my lyme and co-infections is working. My results prove that. My daily life proves that. But it has taken a lot of gritted jaw to get through this last round of drugs and I have a few more weeks to go. Although I pray I am through the worst of it now.

I’ll tell myself that anyway. Just like I always do…

This is what life is. It’s what I’ve learned over time. Life is ups and downs. Mysteries. Breakthroughs. Dead ends. Wrong turns. Wrong turns that lead to the right places. Breathe in, breathe out. Place one foot in front of the other. Rest. Keep going. Keep growing.

In the ten days I have been on this new treatment three lymies (people with late stage lyme disease) I know have taken their lives. Too much pain, too much damage, not enough support, no access to adequate doctors or treatment, no light at the end of the tunnel, and they each reached the end of their respective ropes.

I understand that space. There have been times over the years – even the last two – when I have sat on that same bench, and had that same conversation with myself and those closest to me.

It puts my own illness into perspective, my treatment into perspective, my recovery into perspective.

I won’t do myself or this illness the disrespect of rendering the lyme journey down into a handful of trite new age slogans. Loving my disease, making peace with myself, loving myself – they’re all noble and worthwhile sentiments, and I honestly do my best. But how many people who got hit by a bus or a dose of MRSA from a hospital stay, or a life-threatening bout of meningococcal disease get those flags waved at them? Who of them would be expected to be healed by the simple waving of a crystal, the chanting of an affirmation or a thorough investigation of their past lives?

For me, a wholistic approach to healing means using intelligent diagnosis and solutions – a range of traditional and alternative treatments. Science. Ancient and modern. Spiritual practice. Drugs. Energy medicine. Herbs. Oils. Intuition. Food as medicine. Doctors and practitioners who use their brains in an investigative manner, allowing space for curiosity and open-mindedness, and a synergy of puzzle pieces. I expect that to be my own practice too. Of course there is room for magic and miracles, of course there is learning to be had. I’m open to it all.

Thanks for all your well wishes, and I’m sorry if my silence had you concerned. But you know me by now. Whenever I’m quiet so long there is always something going on.

I’m busy getting well. That’s what’s going on. Messy business, but I’m making progress, and things will be back to some semblance of normal here just as soon as I have the energy for it all.

Sending so much love your way, Nicole xx

Image from emiliesquotes.com

Image from emilysquotes.com

 

Update from Lyme Land

Image from Norway Street

Image from Norway Street

“Every day you may make progress. Every step may be fruitful. Yet there will stretch out before you an ever-lengthening, ever-ascending, ever-improving path. You know you will never get to the end of the journey. But this, so far from discouraging, only adds to the joy and glory of the climb.”
~ Winston Churchill

 

It’s been eighteen months since my Lyme diagnosis, and fourteen months since I began treatment with an intensive regime of antibiotics and specifically targeted herbs.

On top of all of the other good things I was already doing that had sustained my life, but not healed me.

For those of you who’ve been following my journey, you’ll know it’s been a long and tough road. And I still have a long way to go. Perhaps another two years of treatment yet. Maybe more.

But truly, I can FEEL the progress I’m making now. Little by little I am beginning to reclaim my life. I am having, on balance, more good days than bad. The bad days are bad, but not nightmarishly so. I can cope with them.

I am still suffering pain, and insomnia. I still suffer from periods of intense fatigue. I have days where I can barely lift my head from the pillow and the night brings only more pain and no relief. But on a good day I have a sense of returning strength. My brain works – almost all the time. I have the energy to do a little housework, to do a little gardening – and not be completely wrecked afterwards.

I’m writing. And writing. And writing.

I am beginning to think in possibilities. There is once again room in my life for dreams.

Above all, I want to say thank you. For sticking with me. For sending me messages of support. For helping me hang in there when I truly didn’t think I could go another step.

I have no idea what ‘well’ will ultimately look like for me, but I’m excited to have the chance to find out.

Much love to you, Nicole xoxo

PS: I love the wisdom of the quote below:

When-things-fall-apart-consider-the

#Lymetime – The Big Day Looms…

Image by KicsterAsh

Image by KicsterAsh

“I still think that everyone’s life, no matter how unremarkable, has a singular tragic encounter after which everything that really matters will happen. That moment is the catalyst – the first step in the equation. But knowing the first step will get you nowhere – it’s what comes after that determines the result.” 
Robyn SchneiderThe Beginning of Everything

 

It’s a little over a year since I began my treatment for Lyme and various co-infections, and this morning my husband is taking me back to my doctor to get the results of a huge barrage of tests to see what progress I have actually made since beginning my drug and herb regime.

There will be a lot to talk about. In this past month I have had brain scans, heart scans, bone scans, and innumerable blood tests. Among other things…

I admit to being nervous. I want for this appointment to go well. I want to hold in my hands some tangible proof that all of this suffering has been worth it in the name of progress.

Truth be told, despite the horrendous nature of the drugs, and the herxing, and the misery, I really do believe that I have turned the corner. My brain is working again. I can feel a strength in me that wasn’t there even a month ago. But will this feeling translate into some kind of scientific evidence?

Yes, I am the psychic who needs proof. I don’t want to trust ‘just a feeling’. I want that feeling validated by objective data!

This morning I’ve meditated, sipped tea, hurried down a little food so that I could take my meds, and now I’m dressed and ready to go just as the sun is coming up. It’s a long drive, and today I will be the first appointment in my doctor’s day. Oh, the butterflies in my stomach. Oh, the apprehension.

Fingers crossed…

I promise I’ll let you know how it all goes. 🙂

A Little Piece of Normal

 

Paris-Café-19224

“There is nothing that makes me happier than sitting around the dinner table and talking until the candles are burned down.”
~ Madeleine L’Engle, A Circle of Quiet

 

While I’ve been in Brisbane this week for all my medical tests a dear friend took me for an early dinner. Collecting me from my front door she drove us to a small suburban bistro.

It has been so long since I have ventured forth in the evening I’d forgotten how enchanting a restaurant can be.

The place we chose had only two other diners when we arrived. Inside it was a place of quiet and calm; a little background music, a sea of crisp white linen, a portly head waiter with a kind face and soft well-manicured hands, and a jovial patriarchal chef-owner who came and greeted us as if we were friends returning home after a long absence.

I drank it in – the sights, the sounds, the aromas. Oh, it was heavenly to be out. It reminded me of being a small child, newly experiencing the wonders of an adult world when my grandparents would take me out somewhere for a grown-up lunch.

The food was delicious. Italian. A little sinful. We chatted between mouthfuls as the tables around us began to fill. By the time we’d finished our mains the place was humming.

Dessert?

Please. Two girlfriends out for dinner? Of course I had some!

I thrilled with each mouthful of tiramisu, served with the daintiest of spoons to prolong the ecstasy. Not even close to my usual healthy fare. But that’s okay. It’s a good thing to bend the rules every now and again.

plated-tiramisu-cycling-tours-italy

The best part of dinner? Simply being out, with a friend, doing something that felt a lot like normal – a reminder of the life I used to have, many years ago, pre-Lyme.

It filled me with hope.

That simple act of dinner with a friend was a like a tiny glimpse into all the good things yet to come.

And then last night, very early, I received a text. Two girlfriends of mine were just ‘driving around’. Could they maybe pop over and say hi? Five minutes later they were on my doorstep, and then, like teenagers, we went driving and bought ice-creams.

I was still home and in bed early, but wow! Fun, friendship, ice-cream!!!

There is so much to be grateful for.

What small blessings can you count right now?

Much love to you, ♥ Nicole xx

 

Image from Open Your Arms and Embrace Life

Image from Open Your Arms and Embrace Life

Measuring Progress

“Progress means getting nearer to the place you want to be. And if you have taken a wrong turning, then to go forward does not get you any nearer.
If you are on the wrong road, progress means doing an about-turn and walking back to the right road; and in that case the man who turns back soonest is the most progressive man.” 
~ C.S. Lewis

 

I spent the morning with my Lyme doctor yesterday. It’s been over a year since I embarked on a strict regime of diet, supplements, herbs and industrial quantities of various drug combinations. On top of my pre-existing meditation and alternate therapy practices that have kept me alive and functioning thus far, defying conventional prognosis.

Yesterday was all about evaluating my progress this past year, and determining our next course of action.

I went to my appointment armed with a list of symptoms: those which had improved, those which had worsened, new symptoms and those which have resolved and gone away. My list was only slightly shorter than War and Peace.

Image from Claire in London

Image from Claire in London

So, how did I go?

I can’t actually tell you yet.

I have a fistful of blood work tests that need to be done. I have to pee in a jar and poop in a cup.

I have to make appointments for a brain MRI, ultrasounds and scans of various organs and body parts. There is every kind of test for my heart.

2014-04-05 06.03.56

And in the meantime I shall be drug and herb free. Two glorious weeks without this punishing regime of horrors. I feel like a kid at the beginning of summer vacation, with all those beautiful clear days stretched out ahead of me.

Once my results are in, we’ll formulate a new treatment plan, my doctors, alternate therapy practitioners and I.

I am looking forward to comparing where I am now with the results of previous tests and scans. I am hoping for good progress.

In the past thirty years, while I have dealt with declining health, often the only way to evaluate my progress or response to various healing agents was how I felt. I know lots of people who use that technique for evaluating their progress with Lyme treatments. And I think that is valid to some extent. If you feel better, you must BE better, right? And if you feel worse…

Truth is, I have felt WORSE, sometimes much worse, over the course of the previous year, as I have knuckled down and followed this healing path.

And I have had many times in my life where I have experienced a lessening of symptoms, or an upward swing for a while. When you live with chronic illness any kind of better day or improvement in energy and function, even if that improvement is marginal, seems like a really BIG thing.

But until last year, few of my improvements have ever lasted. And scientific evaluation of my condition over time, using evidence based medicine, prove that prior to 2013 I continued to deteriorate. Although, in my defense, I have stubbornly refused to die, even if that was my expected trajectory! 🙂

So, I welcome this next barrage of tests. I welcome being able to use the best that science and modern medicine can give me. I want to be able to critically evaluate what’s working, what isn’t, and working out from there where we go next. Yes, I am the psychic who embraces quantifiable results and proof of change!

I am hoping for measurable improvement. I’ll keep you posted as to how I go.

Image from Chronicles of Illusions

Image from Chronicles of Illusions

PS 🙂 Thank you to everyone who has contacted me with advice and suggestions.   Some of your ideas and treatments have been happily embraced by myself and my very open-minded doctors. An especially big thank you to all the lymies who have given me tips on coping with herxing or who have suggested alternate therapies, herbs, essential oils and so on to compliment my current drug regime.

Thank you to my friends and readers. Your healing energies, prayers, letters and words of encouragement have meant the world to me, and have kept me going through the darkest of times.

 

And for all if the people who have contacted me with suggestions about changing my obviously-flawed thinking which caused my disease (Dude, get with the 21st century – they are actually called pathogens and you can see them under a microscope!) , repenting of sins, God’s cursing of psychics, past life regressions as THE definitive treatment, multi-level marketing product miracle cures accompanied by pages of written testimonials about people feeling better, and stories of people who have cured their Lyme disease with a crystal, drinking their own urine (I went there already and it didn’t work!) thirty-day water fast (tried that too), psychic surgery,  amazing technological device or  a simple solution of bi-carb soda or other common household product, thank you. I’m always opening to expanding my knowledge and trying new things. However… If you can claim a cause or cure, I would appreciate your evidence and long-term results to back this up.

Coming back to myself

BB-Photo-3

“There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered.” ~ Nelson Mandela

 

I am sitting in a cafe at Byron Bay, and it feels like a small miracle.

After my six-week fever broke last night, and a powerful meditation shifted me past most of my pain, things have me believing that somewhere in the quiet dark hours of early morning I turned a significant corner.

Expect a return to normal blogging tomorrow. 🙂

Hooray!!! I have missed you. xoxo

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Day 16 – Gratitude Challenge

Image from googleimages.com

“Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow.”

~ Melody Beattie

Take a moment and close your eyes.  Can you hear your heart beating?  Can you feel the blood pumping around your body, racing oxygen and nutrients to your cells? Can you feel the muscles holding your spine, neck and head in position, are you aware of your hair and fingernails growing, can you notice the millions of commands that are given each minute from that command centre that is your brain?

Your body is like a miniature Universe, with wonders far beyond your comprehension. But don’t feel disconnected from that Universe that is your body.  You have more power over it than you know.

Image from ergoorgo.com

Imagine sucking a lemon.  Go on! See yourself select a fresh lemon from a basket.  As you hold it in your hand you feel the waxy clean skin. As you cut into the fruit the fresh lemony smell fills the room.  Now in your imagination bite down on a tart quarter of the bright fruit. Imagine the astringent lemon juice flood over your tongue – sour and strong. Feel how your lips pucker, and the saliva streams into your mouth. Your eyes might even water a little.

I’ll bet as you read that your mouth actually started to water, and that you may have even swallowed or winced a little at the expectation of sourness.

You have influenced your body with your mind alone. That’s how powerful you are! Think of the implications of the thoughts you have every day and how they must consciously or unconsciously affect your body. We are never without power in our own healing journey…

Image from healthwealthwisdom.blogspot.com

One of the most healing and healthy thoughts you can gift your body is gratitude.

Counting Our Blessings and Using our Gratitude Rock

If you need a detailed reminder of our daily process, you can review it here in Day 1 of the Gratitude Challenge.

  1. List five Blessings in your journal, explaining why you are grateful for each one.
  2. Count your Blessings off on your fingers, summoning positive emotion and saying Thank You from your heart for each one.
  3. Think of an area where you would like to improve your health and wellbeing.  Take  a piece of paper and write Thank you for the Gift of  _____________  in my life.  Imagine that you already have this gift of health.  Really feel that positive energy in your heart.  Now place your healing request under your Gratitude Rock.
  4. Tonight before you go to sleep, hold your Gratitude Rock and affirm I am richly Blessed. I have an Abundance of Good in my life. Visualise one thing you have been grateful for today. Swell that positive energy up in your heart like a beautiful golden light, and give a heart-felt Thank You, Thank You, Thank You to the Universe, then imagine a tiny shower of golden light travelling from your heart into your Gratitude Rock.
  5. Still holding your Gratitude Rock, bless your fellow travellers on this Gratitude Journey by sending them golden light, and saying Thank you.  I Bless You.  I intend for you Love, Miracles and Abundance. Know that as you are saying this for them, they are also saying this for you. Feel that connection and gratitude and know that there is real love and support for you here. Place your rock back beside your bed, and go to sleep, cocooned in this good energy.

If all you do today is these five steps, know that is enough.

For those of you who’d like an additional challenge, here it is!

Flood Your Body with Light

Today I’ve created a short guided meditation for you, to facilitate your own body’s natural healing process.  All you have to do is listen.  Allow about ten minutes for you to get settled, to listen to the meditation, and then to rest in that gentle healing energy a while afterwards.

Nicole Cody’s Guided Meditation for Healing with Light

Know that the capacity to heal is within you.  Find ways to be grateful for your body today, and grateful for the knowledge that you DO have power in your own healing journey.  Bless ♥ xx

When is it okay to break a promise?

Image from blog.chasebrammer.com

I take giving my word very seriously. Promises made are never made lightly, and since childhood I have rarely needed to break one.

But I’m going to break one now. This isn’t information I’d normally share, but I have given so much thought to this that I felt my musings might be helpful to someone else in a similar situation…

A while ago I blogged about knowing when to let go.  Today I realise that for me, with one relationship, it’s time. Why now?  Because where I find myself is not what I signed up for.  Let me explain why I’m walking away.

Image from timshome.com

When I came to your aid you were drowning. Drowning and calling my name. I jumped into that seething river, (as any reasonable person who could swim might), held up your head, and with all my might I edged us back towards the shore.  As you stopped panicking, as we moved to shallower water and your feet touched bottom, you quit struggling and began to help yourself.  Finally we got to shore. You thought that was the end.  I knew it was only the beginning, and I pledged to stay.

We moved further up the bank, away from the danger. Others came to help.  You were safe. And after a while I quit holding my breath and trusted you.

But you keep throwing yourself back in that damned river.

And you expect that I will keep jumping in after you.

So far I have.  Every single time. And each time you’re sorry.

And then you do it again…

It has worn me out. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t uphold a promise when you won’t value it yourself.

To keep jumping in after you puts ME in danger. As much as I have a responsibility to you, I also have one to myself.

Image from safetybanners.com

So I will stay here on the bank. You know where to find me.  I can help you from here. And we’ve been in that river enough times now that YOU know how to navigate the hazards and get back to shore.

I’m not giving up on you. I’m still loving you.  But it’s time to love yourself.  That’s one thing I can’t do with you, and I sure can’t do for you.

Image from kcgraphics.tumblr.com

If you give up on yourself I’ll feel so sad for you. But it won’t make me save you at my own expense. I’ve learned to love myself more than that. I pray one day you learn that too. ♥

Image from loversinvain.blogspot.com

Telling yourself a better story

Image from Flickr – slightlyeverything

I really haven’t had that exciting of a life. There are a lot of things I wish I would have done, instead of just sitting around and complaining about having a boring life. So I pretty much like to make it up. I’d rather tell a story about somebody else.
Kurt Cobain

We all tell ourselves a story.  We often tell that story to others too. Our story is the way we see ourselves in the world, our view of what’s happened to us in the past, and who we are because of it.

Sometimes our story is sad, sometimes, it’s funny, sometimes it’s downright terrible.  And we trot that story out time after time; for ourselves, our families, our friends…

But what if that story doesn’t serve you? What if that story compounds low self-esteem, or failure, or loneliness? What if that story is a constant reminder to us of a painful time in our lives?

The Law of Attraction states that whatever we think about most and talk about most is what we draw to us.  That or things of a similar vibration.

You need to ask yourself if you want to keep living that story.

Because maybe it’s time to write a new one…

Tell yourself a different story – image from freedigitalimages.com

Journal Exercise:

Today, write yourself a new story.  Make it up, like any good writer would, but let it have a few bones that are real.

Tell yourself a story that is empowering and positive.

Look for examples from your life that illustrate a different truth for you – of times when things have worked out, when people have been kind or helpful, when you’ve known success, when miracles have happened.

Or, if you are feeling brave, or creative, just write a new and entirely ficticious account of your past, present or future.

What is the life you would like to live? Write about that AS IF IT IS ALREADY HAPPENING!!!

Here are a few prompts to get you started.  Choose whatever most appeals and then start writing:

  • My life is unfolding in the most exciting of ways…
  • The place I’m living now is so well suited to me.  It is…
  • You’ll never guess how it happened.  It all worked out perfectly in the end. One day…
  • So we’ve been together for…
  • And one day a letter came in the mail and it said…
  • The doctors couldn’t believe it…
  • My life is so blessed because…
  • It’s my dream life.  I have to pinch myself to remind me that it’s real. Now my world looks like…
  • I answered the phone and you’ll never believe who was on the other end…
  • OMG! This is exactly what happened, and it’s FABULOUS…
  • It feels so good to be able to…
  • My career is going from strength to strength.  Already I have…
  • I’ve planned the most amazing holiday.  It starts with…
  • Such wonderful relationships in my life.  Let me tell you a bit about them…
  • Now there’s no more money worries because…
  • My proudest moment is…
  • I finally achieved…

Words really do have a magical power in your life.  So choose them wisely – when you write them, speak them, think them… Expect magic and know that you are worthy and deserving of good in your life. NOW is your time to invite the future to look different to the past.  Believe! ♥

Image from favim.com