I know the story. I see the pattern. Thanks, Dad. Not.

But knowing this is not enough. Knowing that I am living out this pattern from my childhood is not enough to change it.

ACT would say get distance from it in some way and then take valued action.

IFS would say heal the burden.

I think it’s a bit of both. I can heal the burden through getting some distance and taking valued action.

Rules. Rules have long been my thing.

But recently things are coming untangled.

I feel freer. Not sure how it necessarily makes a difference in my life. Like how do I DO differently.

But maybe the more I talk about it the sooner I will work it out.

So it started, 3 years ago.

So I think this is me giving myself grace that it’s ok for it to be hard to connect to pleasure.

Biologically it’s not a thing. …

See the thing about starting ‘challenges’ likes this is that I start to pay attention.

The moments that I would have ignored before - I look at them with different eyes.

This morning I was pondering as going about the mundane tasks of getting up, the routine of breakfast, asking myself….

Here we go again… another attempt at a 90 day something….

What’s the relationship been pleasure and anger?

Join me as I explore what pleasure is and how to get more of it.

How do I really accept this part? Really let this part know they are welcome without then living this really disruptive experience. It’s HARD to be that frustrated all the time. To be that activated.

But I do not want to live in shame and shut this part down.

I don’t have the answer but I don’t like the current answers on offer.

Trigger warning on this post. Only proceed if you have the capacity.

My new mantra.

This. Is. Not. Me.

I’ve been on an interesting journey recently.

Not to gaslight myself about the trauma.. but

As easy as I breath air I am angry.

There is the big anger.

The anger that makes me want to lash out.

It’s just there.

Like the blood in my veins. Or the air in lungs.

The anger is just there.

Always there. Around.

Sometimes it’s more noticable. Many times you’d never notice it but there is a knowing that it can’t not be there.

I promised myself a lot when I was a little girl.

I promised myself when I was trying to disappear down the crack of the bed in the wall. That one day I would be in a house full of laughter and joy.

I promised myself after each attempt on my life that it would be different one day, I would be happy and know how to laugh.

There once was this little girl who use to write letters to her dad. Letters of love but also trying to express how much he hurt her.  This little girl that tried to think of all the things he wanted and needed so she could do them in advance. She tried to think of the right things to like. The right music to be be into. The right sport to play. The right view and opinions to have. This little girl who spent so much time trying to work out what he was thinking.