One day, as I was worrying about the future, my intuition told me to transfer my fear, like give it to something or someone else. So I imagined I have a small doll and that I literally take the fear out of myself and give it to the doll. Doing so, I felt peace inside, no rush or worry. That was good, as from a place of worry and concern, my decisions are not usually healthy for myself.
I did find the doll and her name is Coco, as it was written on her box. I gave Coco my fears of being rejected by other people, of not having enough money, of a violent death, of covid, of war, of being physically hurt, of not being good enough, of reaching the end of life with regrets, of saying my truth or how I really think about something.
I like Coco and when I hold her, I feel like I am embracing my inner child.
It is not the first time I write about emotions and some years ago, somebody told me “You should not write about this kind of stuff.” So, next time I will write about uninstalling some software, including related to what a person should or should not talk or write about.
It’s been more than a week since Ukraine was invaded by Putin’s army. I never really thought this could happen, yet it did happen. I felt the fear inside my body so many times these days, in the beginning a paralyzing fear, making all kind of scenarios in my mind. What am I going to do if this or that takes place? I was and still am in a state of alert.
One day, while taking a walk with my dog, I realized that I have no idea when and how this is going to end and that I cannot live all my days in fear until I have any sort of certainty. So I made space inside for acceptance of what is, as it is: uncertainty, having no idea what will come next in terms of war and its consequences. Then, I made space for some hope. Also played Rummy with my family and realized at the end that while paying attention to the game, for some moments I forgot about the war.
Each day I see the news regarding Ukraine and when president Zelensky asked on March 1st the European Parliament that Ukraine to be added to EU, I thought that a Yes would mean that Putin’s opponent in war would be the whole Europe, not just Ukraine. EU response was No, so the war still stands between Ukraine’s borders.
When doing all normal things, I feel compassion and some guilt that I can do this and most of Ukrainian people can’t. I hope this war will soon come to an end.
Later edit: In the meanwhile I found out about secondary trauma, which occurs when we are exposed to other people’s trauma. It is indeed traumatizing to witness what’s happening now in Ukraine. It also felt like a selfish attitude if I live my life instead of constantly feeling bad about the war, but I also realized that me being stuck in emotions like pain, anger or grief is not actually helping anyone. I walked through the valley of pain, but decided to step out. So I will give myself permission to live – sleep, take a walk, wash dishes, smile, watch a movie, read a book, be grateful – despite the war in Ukraine, just as I gave myself permission to dream or not be extraordinary. I will choose hope, despite the fear I feel.
“I see darkness ahead of me. I think I need to talk to a psychologist.” That’s what I told my mother when I was about to graduate university. After 16 years of school, when I have always been told what to do, the idea of deciding for myself was so very scary.
I still remember the look on my mother’s face. She said nothing, but in that nothing I felt her helplessness, shame and confusion.
20 years later, I talked with a psychotherapist. We met 4-5 times and each time we discussed a topic I chose. There was this part of myself speaking, but at the same time another part was paying attention to what and how the psychotherapist was saying. I felt empowered after each discussion and I kept thinking afterwards what exactly has helped me the most.
My answers:
I could talk about anything and feel welcomed – what a relief!
I did not felt judged;
I was shown respect and patience and felt being an equal to my psychotherapist, not inferior;
I felt listened and accepted, the psychotherapist paid attention to me, stayed in my story and did not leave, no matter what I said;
the psychotherapist stood by my side and this sensation somehow filled other empty spaces inside of myself;
I felt I do matter as a human being, no matter how my past looked like;
I felt enough.
Because I was shown how healthy respect looks like, I started to treat myself with more respect although I felt the guilt of taking better care of myself.
Writing here is a form of honoring myself.
Scrisoare către psihoterapeutul meu
„Văd întuneric în fața mea. Cred că am nevoie să vorbesc cu un psiholog.“ Asta i-am spus mamei mele la final de facultate. După 16 ani de școală, când în permanență mi s-a spus ce să fac, ideea de a decide pentru mine era de-a dreptul copleșitoare.
Încă îmi amintesc expresia de pe fața mamei mele. Nu a spus nimic, dar în acel nimic i-am simțit neputința, rușinea, confuzia.
20 de ani mai târziu, am stat de vorbă cu un psihoterapeut. Ne-am întâlnit de vreo 4-5 ori și de fiecare dată eu am ales subiectul discuției. On-line. O parte din mine vorbea, însă în același timp o altă parte era atentă la cum și ce psihoterapeutul spunea. M-am simțit linișită și împuternicită după fiecare întânire și m-am tot gândit ce anume m-a ajutat cel mai mult în toată terapia asta.
Iată:
am putut vorbi despre orice și nu m-am simțit respinsă – ce ușurare!
nu m-am simțit judecată;
mi s-a arătat respect, răbdare, m-am simțit ca fiind un egal al psihoterapeutului, nu o persoană inferioară;
m-am simțit ascultată și aceptată, psihoterapeutul a fost atent la mine, a rămas în povestea mea și nu a dat bir cu fugiții, indiferent ce am spus;
psihoterapeutul a fost de partea mea și cumva treaba asta a umplut mai multe goluri din mine;
am simțit că eu contez ca ființă umană;
m-am simțit suficientă.
Întrucât am văzut cum arată respectul sănătos, am început să mă tratez și eu cu același respect, deși mă simțeam vinovată să am mai multă grijă de mine.
Să scriu aici e o formă de onorare a propriei mele persoane.
