Winds of Change

Change means doing things differently… Einstein said “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result”. I confess I change slowly and with an incredible amount of resistance… I only discovered this small gigantic flip of the switch when I started really moving deeply into the dark side of my neuron connections. I had to find myself becoming an emotional brain surgeon. It did not sit well with me I can assure you. Anarchy is where I find my thrills.

My usual line of business – which I am exceptionally good at, is trying to change other people and circumstances. It’s how I used to control life (trauma) around me, but that didn’t work out too well for me in the long run – accepting life on life’s terms is a large bitter pill which I did not want to partake of in a sacrament-like ritual, however when one is crawling of pain on your belly what choices are left?

Since I have applied the ”change” I have been sorely tested on whether it has actually shifted even a small iota of my thinking and acting by a couple of momentous events this year, so far. On mother’s day this year my very ex mother in-law (with her signature on my divorce papers to prove it) texted me to request nothing else but change – I had to change the mind of my son by using my influence as his mother, that I needed to change the trauma and hurt we have lived and so on. I was astounded by how selfish the demands for change were, that by no means was there an ounce of acknowledgement for what we had been through… it was minimised and wiped clean off the table and all that was lying on the table was her and ‘he who must not be named’ bleeding hearts. I was filled with anger and self-justification and wanted to defend our raw life lived without food at times and ask where the fuck were they… I desperately wanted to retaliate!

In that moment had to decide whether I would bite. This was the moment of change… My Lady Gandalf’s words came screaming into my muscle fibres… STOP!!!! Observe, and Steer (very fucking carefully). I stepped onto the rocks which had cut me to shreds before – I replied after a couple of minutes of breathing, that I am no longer in the business of changing anyone or anything but myself, that I cannot control or engage again in such emotional chaos that for my emotional sobriety I am not able to fill her demands. The onslaught did not stop there (it only does in the movies…) she proceeded to say that my recovery is to the detriment of her family and my children… The manipulation were like neon labels attached to her words. I held my ground, my boundaries with conviction and I was not mean or nasty in doing so – just strong.

Looking back I recognise her desperateness and I have compassion for it as I was filled with that exact desperateness not so long ago – I had to change that, I had to form a different path in my brain and heart to change my behaviour.  Addiction is largely a behavioural disease that envelopes families, everyone eventually gets some form of it, like the flu. I did not expect her to thank me for being such a well behaved bunny and for keeping firstly myself safe and by default everyone else safe, including her. She thinks I don’t understand when in fact I do… I just disagree now, and I choose to change bad chaotic behaviour which causes upset and drama.

Pixling schnarfs… change won’t bring praise but will bring results, just a thought.

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