You did it!! We did it!!

These are the images I’ve posted recently on Instagram

We’re at the end of 2020. And you did it. I did it. We did it. I didn’t think I’d make it through the year, yet here I am. Here you are. It’s been one hell of a ride these past months. Although I haven’t replied to the comments on my last posts, I’ve read them all. And I’m really touched. It surprises me that you’re here and care despite how MIA I’ve been.

Congrats for making it through 2020! Let’s celebrate…

Here’s to a year….

Hopefully next year I’ll be more present amongst you…

Lotsa love and sunshine

E (not Eliza, I just dunno how to change my blog name).

Ramblings about a live

I just watched an IGTV – 40 minute video on instagram, and I’ve so so much to say…. that I’m going to try and put some of it into words. It’s definitely worth watching….

I’m not actually sure where to start, because almost every 5 minutes of it brought up something to write about, which would mean I should be writing 8 different blog posts… anyways. This is really for myself. To out it down.

Her first point was that choosing to have children is an act of courage. About 3 years ago I recall discussing this with my rabbi, and telling him I didn’t want to have children. It’s the first time I’ve heard anyone validate that. I don’t want to bring children into the world. The thought of bringing a child into the world is absolutely terrifying. I’m not saying I never will. I’m still a kid. I’m 26. I don’t know what will happen if I date, or ever decide to marry. Will I want to have children? I don’t know. I really appreciated the validation, the understanding. I don’t want to bring children into the world.

Okay so I’m going to miss out a whole lot of points.

Choosing to love takes courage.

It does. In real life I find it incredibly difficult to reach out to people. Well, online too. I don’t reach out in the way of making myself vulnerable. I share, definitely. I email or DM people, definitely. I don’t message anyone and tell them I’m struggling. I might write a post or story, which says that I am. But because it’s going public, it’s sharing, and isn’t requiring the same vulnerability.

There is someone absolutely gorgeous who lives not far from me. This person has given me the opportunity to be in touch with her a lot. A really lot! I’ve told her how much I appreciate her messages. It’s too scary to build that relationship. There’s also a big part that whenever I have reached out she hasn’t actually followed through with her offer. There’s my part to play. Building such relationships are scary. Terrifying. More than terrifying. I’m not saying I don’t have that honesty with anyone, for I do. My friend M who lives in Israel (I miss her… lockdown means that I haven’t seen her in a year. Haven’t been to israel in a year. I guess she hasn’t had to make that day trip from the north to central – 4 hours each way – in a year).

Choosing to connect takes courage. In any way. Whether through parenting, or teaching, or building any relationships.

I really appreciated those words – not a quote! I teach. My students are the most incredible humans on earth. Most of the students I’ve taught are learning disabled, special needs, or somewhere thereabouts. Teaching is draining. It requires 100% of my focus (which I don’t always have available, which of course brings guilt for they are not getting my all. I do know that my not all often gives more than someone else’s all. And I do give more to my students than most).

Choosing to build relationships is scary. It’s only during the last year that I’ve built a relationship with one of my sisters. A truly honest, vulnerable, relationship with. No, she doesn’t know most of what’s been going on. I’m grateful I’ve spared her the fear she’d have been living with.

Safety. I don’t consider myself to have PTSD, because I haven’t been through trauma. Although I can’t say nothing has been traumatic in my life. The more you talk about something, the more okay it is to talk about. Going off on a tangent here.

Today I was talking to a couple of people on a group call. We were sharing, they did first, what we were ashamed of. The first thing that came to my mind was that when I was 14 I didn’t have good hygiene, which meant I didn’t have friends, and no friends meant no learning what normal hygiene is. That’s something I’ve been ashamed of my entire life. Well, not my entire life. When I was 16 I went to seminary – Jewish girls college – and for the first time I learnt what people do. That hey, you’re meant to shower regularly etc. (My family didn’t practice good hygiene…). I’ve never spoken about it before because it was one of my most shameful secrets. I wrote about this on a private blogpost recently. And today I shared it. And as I was saying it i found it funny. Because. There’s nothing for me to be ashamed of. I wasn’t shown what to do. I didn’t know better. I was the cause of a lack of friends through no fault of my own. I’m going to have to go back to see what I was trying to say, but the point I’m saying here is that the more you talk about something, the more okay it becomes, the more you – I – accept and make sense of it.

Oh. So trauma. There are some things in my life that really impacted me. One of them being my special needs sister whom I was brought up to belief was normal. Who when I was 9 would say she wanted to end her life and it was our fault. I knew I was guilty for living. I knew she was going to due and it was my fault. My sister is a topic that recently is the first time I’m really okay talking about it. I’ve joked about it with my friends. Things like I’ve been sent to hell enough times that hell doesn’t scare me (by my sister and mother).

I’ve come to understand some of my life. Even as I say I haven’t been through trauma, I’ve come to understand that some things in my life traumatised me. And that’s the first time I’m saying that. Yes, writing IS saying. Interestingly enough, on the phone today, one of the people said that writing isn’t as real. I thought, hey, for me writing is real. Is more real.

Trauma brings a lack of safety. Teaches you the world isn’t safe. Why has no one ever put it so clearly into words before? She put it into words in a way that really spoke to me. For I’ve never heard it framed that way. One of the things I’ve said about my world is that there is no safety. I appreciated hearing the why. Why there’s no safety. The world’s definitely not as unsafe as it used to be. I don’t feel unsafe all the time. I don’t feel safe. Ever.

Another thing she put really well was how using something brings along its own set of problems. Yah. Don’t I know that. Her example was a kid choosing to avoid the problem of going to school will create the problems that staying home brings.

Destroying my life, which avoids all the causes for self destruction (to anyone who knows what I’ve been doing, I want to apologise. I don’t think it’s okay for me to have ever written on here what I’ve been doing. For my GP to know is okay – and of course the tight thing. For the psych I met to know, is of course the right thing. They have to know the risks. Which of course there is the risk. Which is why I’ve been living with it. For anyone here to know isn’t okay. I never should have shared. That’s the reason I’ve passworded the posts I’m aware spoke about it. I’m sorry.

Destroying my life takes away the pain of dealing with the world. It gives me an illusion of safety. It gives and control. It brings along self destruction. It brings along the battle of life vs death which is exhausting, and so hard to fight.

Self harm has helped. Side track again. I’m calling it self harm. The past few months I’ve finally named self harm, as exactly that. Self harm. It’s hard for me to say it. Why? Because then I’m saying that’s what it is. Self harm helped. It helps. It helps one problem. It causes others. Such as wrecking clothes I don’t want to wreck.

So yeah. This live brought up a lot. Hang on, I want to check how long I’ve been writing for. Okay. It’s been nearly 40 minutes.

I’m grateful for this space to process my thoughts. I’m grateful for writing, which helps me process my thoughts.

Oh. I wanted to share something positive I posted on instagram. I know I’ve said the same thing before, but, or AND, I’m saying the same thing again now.

If you’ve read this far there’s 2 points I want to say.

The most important point is – thank you for listening. Thank you for being here. Thank you for taking the time to read.

And I forgot the second.

Second point – I’m thinking of you all even as I’m not reading your posts. You all mean so much to me. Your support and encouragement, and belief, and hope, from some relative strangers, means a really lot to me. I’ve read every comment you’ve left even if I haven’t responded. I’m not around much as I haven’t had the headspace (on Instagram I’m reading the stories, not keeping up with posts directly, unless they show up in stories – on the days I check the stories that is). I do think of you all a lot. And thank you for being here.

Thinking of you all

I’ve kinda been living in my head these past months. I’ve come up for air a few times. Looked at either the first posts in my reader, or a few of those in my notifications or emails. I’m not sure who decides what shows where. I haven’t been around recently. Not on here. (Nor on instagram, email, or real life friends either).

Anyways. I just wanted to say that I’m thinking of you all. I’m not naming people but I do mean you. I’m grateful you’ve been a part of my journey. I’m grateful that you are a part of my journey. And, I’m thinking of you. I know I’m not around much, and that’s nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me. It’s taking my everything to just do what I am.

Thanks for your part in my journey.

I’d love to hear how you’re doing. If you’re happy to share that is.

Lotsa sunshine, sparkles, hugs, and peace

E

Thoughts.

I’m sad.

Someone messaged me a really gorgeous message that it’s been a while since they’ve heard from me and they’re a little worried and could I please respond. No pressure but yes pressure.

I’m sad. I’m sad I scared her. I don’t even know if she was scared. I remember TC telling me when I got her post that when she sent it she had no idea whether I’d actually get it or not. I felt the same way then.

I do feel something. Even though I can’t name it.

I hate that I scared her. I don’t know how scared she was or wasn’t. And it’s not like I can even go and tell her she had no reason to worry. It’s not like what I’ve been doing has no potential of killing me. This person doesn’t really know what’s been going on. I’d never tell her. It’s. Yeah whatever.

I can’t really share my world with people. I can on here because it’s public so it’s not like I’m reaching out to a specific person. I can’t reach out in that way. I wouldn’t get what I needed. And even if I did I couldn’t risk not getting it. And I know I don’t deserve others to be there. I know I can’t reach out to others for I’m not worthy of their time. Which is also why all the people who respond here mean so much to me. Especially those who don’t know me at all. You know who you are. I haven’t read your blog. I don’t know your life. I haven’t been here for you. Yet you’re here for me. What’s ironic is how many people I have always responded to and been there for who haven’t been here for me. Most of them I don’t care. I know I don’t deserve it.

I wish she hadn’t been scared. I replied. And. I’m sad I scared her.

Somehow I’m still here. I’m not sure how come I still am. There were so many times during the past few months that I knew I wouldn’t be. Yet I’m here.

I bought myself something expensive yesterday. I’ve been wanting it for months but I haven’t bought it because I may not live, and if I’m not alive than it’s pointless buying it. As in I don’t want the money to be wasted. Buying it, whether I do or don’t keep it (I wonder if it may go down in price over lockdown) is an affirmation of life. Is a statement that I believe I’m going to be here to use and make use of it.

I emailed someone some of this. I feel bad. I know she’ll respond. I’m obligating her to respond. And for all I know this is all too much for her. She just replied and she completely missed the point. I succeeded in scaring her but whatever. Her emails mean way too much to me. I’m on edge until she responds. And then I often have to explain what I meant.

I need to sleep.

Relationships, boundaries, and responsibility 3

Saying yes, taking responsibility, gave me the right to exist. K, so I’m speculating here, but I’m trying to put my thoughts into words, and either it’s true, or it’s not. I’m going to put it down. And it could be I’ll turn around one day and say that this is nonsense.

I grew up feeling responsible for others.

I grew up feeling guilty for existing. The guilt comes from the fact that through existing, by living, I’m hurting others. That’s not just speculation or a kids thoughts. It’s still the reality today. By existing I’m hurting someone. By living I have hurt people. Not through anything I did. Just through existing. One of those people have changed a lot. I no longer hurt her through my existence. I’m not blaming myself here. I never did anything wrong. That person was threatened by my existence. I did nothing to cause that. It was her issue. She’s changed. The person I still hurt through existing has special needs, mental health difficulties etc and will not be able to change. The fact is I hurt her by living. I don’t think I feel guilty for it any longer. I used to. By now I know it’s not my problem. There are others I hurt by being me. It’s not my existence that hurts them, but that I’m me. And if I ever truly live my own life I’ll really hurt my parents.

The guilt for living has played a big role in my life. I still don’t believe I’m allowed to exist, however I don’t feel guilty for those people.

I’m wondering if giving to others, being whatever others needed me to be, justified my existence somewhat. I’m here, and I shouldn’t be here, because I’m hurting people, their lives would be better without me, if I’m making other peoples lives better, maybe it balances that out. Makes it somewhat okay that I’m living, even though I shouldn’t be. Balances out the pain I’m causing to others.

The only problem there lies that giving gives meaning to my life. I love giving to others. Not because I have to. Not because it justifies my existence. But because I love giving.

When I said that saying no goes against my nature R’R commented nature or conditioning?

I think both. Conditioning is that I’m not allowed to exist. Nature is I love to give. Whether by nature or by nurture I feel others. Whether that’s inherent or something I had to develop or both. When I was speaking to E she told me about her arm hurting. I felt the pain in my own arm. Not physically, but yes physically. I don’t know how to explain it. Her pain hurt me. I don’t really know what physical agony feels like. I know I’ve experienced physical agony – when I got burned (I’d say burned myself but that sounds like I caused it. Someone dropped a pot. Thankfully of water!!!!! It could have been the oil pot…) and my arm was debrided – do not google. I wrote a poem then about pain. I don’t recall the pain. I recall hating others doing things for me. I couldn’t do anything because I couldn’t use my arm at all…

I feel others pain. I want to take their pain and take it away from them. I feel others pain too much. It’s funny how I so feel others pain yet cannot feel anything about or for myself. Though then again my life was a pretty calm, good life.

Anyways, the point I was making is that I love to give. And that giving gives meaning to my life. And that I wonder if giving was a way for me to justify my existence.

This is also why I think I don’t ADHD. Because I go back to what I started off with. A past friend once said to me that she loved how though I’d jump from A, to B, to C, I’d always go back to A, to B, to C.

Relationships, boundaries, responsibility

I’ve been meaning to write for a while. I’m in that space where I haven’t been posting on instagram either. There’s so much to say. And. I don’t know. Too much. It’s after midnight. I should be going to sleep. And I hate posting on these days because Friday is a kindness post and Sunday is a sunshine post. I want to keep it that way.

I want to wrote properly but will share a couple Instagram posts about responsibility. That’s really what I wanted to write about anyways. I was hoping that if I start writing about it here I’d be able to formulate my thoughts, my words, a lil bit more.

I’m sharing the posts in chronological order. I hope to be able to write more sometime as it’s through putting it down that I’ve begun to understand it. Maybe I’ll write another post (Haha for I’ll share them again for making it make sense to me).

View this post on Instagram

This morning I was journaling about responsibility. I made the second picture to make it clear that of course I have responsibilities. Although this is relevant to NY entire life I was referencing a specific childhood friend. I grew up responsible for F (friend). My life was giving to her what she needed, doing what she wanted, regardless of the detriment to me. Recently, as in the past month, I've let go of responsibility to sis. That brought up really clearly the responsibility I take for F. F calls and asks me for my help, and I'm unable to say no. I do what she asks. Because it's easy for me to do and why not. I resent it too because I don't have a choice. When I'm unable to she tells me not to worry. Um, hello. I don't need her to tell me not to worry. It's not my responsibility… Yesterday she called me and asked me to do something. I said no. I just said I'm sorry but I can't do it. There's a lot of guilt. It's a 5 minute job on the internet that is easy for me to do. She doesn't have internet access and with lockdown can't just go elsewhere to do it. Yet it's not kay responsibility. It. Is. Not. My. Responsibility. F is not my responsibility. I grew up being responsible for F. It was easier for the adults to allow me to take responsibility – even though it negatively impacted my life – because they either ignored it, or because I was taking the responsibility off them. Letting go of responsibility towards sis made me aware that I don't need to say yes to F. She expects it. I expect it. I resent it. And. It's not my responsibility. Is it really the right thing for me to say no? Not to give when I so easily can and it doesn't harm me in any which way? I'm not the 7 year old giving in to F at her expense. I'm not the 11 year old left on the sidelines because of F. I'm not the 18 year old going where I don't want to go with F. I'm not the 22 year old leaving when I want to stay with F. I'm not going to do what hurts me as it is. Or impacts me. I've learnt not to. This is easy stuff in my spare time. And I said no. I said no. Because I can say no. Because I just don't want to say yes. Is it the right thing? I don't know… … cont

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Dear E I'm proud of you E. I'm proud of you for saying no to F – yes, I'm proud. I'm proud even though you could so easily have helped her. I'm proud even though the no was purely for the sake of saying no. You're allowed to say no just because. You're allowed to say no to something you don't want to do. However easy it may be. I'm proud of you for putting yourself first. I'm proud of you for saying no to M yesterday. Even though she was disappointed. You put yourself first. You aren't creating an unhealthy dynamic. If you say yes when you don't want to you're creating an unhealthy relationship. You're allowed to say no. Your needs, even your wants, always come first. Your want comes before some else's need. Of course sometimes you can put their need first. But only if it's a choice. Only if you're choosing it. If you're putting their need first because you feel that you have to, you're ruining the relationship. That's why saying no to F was, is, important. Because you never feel like you have a choice. If you felt like you had a choice you wouldn't resent helping her. If it was a choice you would be happy to help. You've not been happy to help for you knew you had to. And E, you don't have to. You never have to do anything for anyone. You always come first. Once you've put yourself first, you can give to others. Once you can say no, you can say yes. And you can say yes to things that are hard for you to do, or that you'd rather not do. Because when it's a choice you can put someone else's needs before your wants, and be happy about it. I love you E. And I'm proud of you. I'm with you always. I'll always be with you. I'll always stay with you. Nothing you ever do can ever take me away from you. Love you E. Always and forever. E. #lettertomyself #journaling #journaltherapy #journalingismytherapy #responsibility #responsibilities #lettinggo #selfcare #selflove #selfhealers #selfhealer #selfhealing #innerchildhealing #innerchild #innerchildwork #soberliving #sobriety #addiction #addictionrecovery #recovery #adultchildrenofalcoholics #narcoticsanonymous #acoa #acarecovery #overdoserecovery #jewishmentalhealth #jews4mentalhealth #jewishgirl #jewishblogger

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And this is something I often feel.

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I never just wanted to be a part of the groups there were. I'd feel left out. Know I wasn't worth it. That there was something wrong with me that those people seemingly struggling with the same as me, who I was there for, could be there for each other, but not for me. The past few months have shown me something. On my blog I've met some new people. People I didn't know before. People who I did know but never identified with. People who took the time to respond to what I wrote. People who were there… I've learnt who my people are, and it's not whom I would have expected at all. Some of these people were those who I've never read anything of theirs before. And plenty of people I'd been there for weren't there. Just weren't. Creating your own community. I've always been a misfit. I've always been an anomaly. My friends in life are very different to each other. Although they're friends with each other. This tells you who I am! If you're a friend of mine you feel close to all my friends and likely become real friends with them too. It's just how I work…. my friends become friends. So. My people. It's weird to say that because I really don't turn to others. The people I like and appreciate, I hope they know I do. I'm learning to. And are here I am a bit. Beginning to. Definitely more than I ever did. What I was saying was that people. For people in my life I can give a prototype but honestly there is none. Genuineness is the one thing that draws me to everyone. And once I count you as a friend, I'll be your friend forever and ever amen unless you do a lot to ruin it, and even then I'll really care about you. Who are your people? Who are you grateful for? #mentalhealthjourney #mentalhealthmatters #mentalhealth #mentalhealthrecovery #relationships #buildingrelationships #navigatingrelationships #understandingrelationships #innerchildhealing #innerchild #innerwisdom #innerconsciousness #selfhealing #ptsd #cptsdwarrior #cptsdrecovery #attachmenttrauma #bpdwarrior #anxietywarrior #socialanxiety #eatingdisorderwarrior #adultchildrenofalcoholics #acoa #trustyourself #innerwisdom #selfcare #selflove #mindfulness #jewishmentalhealth #jews4mentalhealth

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Rambling 0001

I’m wondering if I should try and put my thoughts into words. I haven’t sat down to write on here for so long. There’s just nothing to say. And everything to say.

So I started a new Instagram account. I think I’ll actually use it. E.journeytolife

I realised the beginning of this week that it’s up to me, and me alone, where my life heads. Yes, I want support. I won’t necessary get what I want. If I wait until I get it nothing will happen. I also realised that I often don’t follow things through. And then blame everything else when it’s on me for not having followed through.

For the past week and hopefully the next 4 weeks, though committing only a week at a time, in the morning (about 20 – 30 minutes all in) I’ve journalled for a couple minutes, wrote 3 gratitudes, 2 way prayer – journalling, filled in future self journal, most days I wrote to myself, and did a mindfulness practice. I’m pretty certain I posted on here the letter I wrote from my younger self to the current day me. Oh, I did.

I really should speak to my GP. Or the other GP. I’m scared to speak to the other one for I know she will act on it. My GP, so basically I need to find out what my blood test results mean practically speaking. Like, do I have to do anything about them. Or just hope for the best.

I’ve cut down on what I’ve been taking. It’s mostly okay. As in it doesn’t even count as ODing. I’d been eating for a month. So the last week I’ve cut down on paracetamol. And found food hard. Been making sure to eat. Been eating way too much. And TU occasionally. But that’s better than not eating. So yeah.

I reached out to a charity here about therapy and they told me they can help until I hear back from the CMHT but when I told them I’d want to use the sessions to go through a therapy workbook they said they can’t help because they don’t offer filling in workbooks. R’R put me in touch with a service here which said they’ll offer online support in a couple weeks. The CMHT sent me a letter that they’ve arranged for a telephone appointment on the 1st of December.

I bought and have begun reading a book by Imi Lo, who created eggshelltherapy. When I saw she had written a book I had to buy it because all the articles on her site are really great. It’s good her book. Emotional Sensitivity and Intensity. I’d definitely recommend it. Although I’ve nowhere near finished reading it so how could I know?

Working until 2.30 every day. Sometimes it’s okay. Sometimes it’s really not.

Up until I messed up I was beginning to really live in the world. Recently it’s as though there’s nothing there. I don’t connect to myself at all. I miss the connection I had been building.

Can’t think of anything else at this moment.

Oh. That I think that the energy work SG did is the reason I’m not suicidal and see life as possible. Still buying gifts for people. They should be surrounded by mementos in case. Should know I loved them. But life is possible.