Do you believe in anything? Do you believe in a destiny? In something bigger than yourself/ourselves?
That is a quote from Game of thrones, I am watching it as I write this. I used I hardly ever watch Tv, but now I do to kill the time and stop me feeling a crippling loneliness that makes me want to die. Which is why I answer yes to the above questions. I have to have something to hold on to in those terrible times, to believe something is holding me, when no one actually is expect me trying to hold myself together.
Hey so that’s my first paragraph huh? Deep and Depressing… and maybe my darkest secret that I have had many battles with keeping alive.
Don’t worry this blog is not about me moaning… well it may be sometimes, I am not perfect. Think I have been waiting to be perfect to start it, but anyway I decided to just do it, to just write right now, and just publish this writing on my website.
It has been round and round in circles in my head for about 3 year now, jenuine itself was first created 20 years ago, I have been chipping away at the dream ever since. Getting qualified, writing journals for 13 years. But still what to write about for an actual audience? I mean, what will people think? what if people attack me, what if I am laughed at, what if I am wrong, what if I change my mind? What if I sound like a hypocrite? What if I suddenly decide I don’t agree with that I have even written today, a week, a year from now? What if it’s all a load of crap? What if no one likes me? What if what if… what if…
I started writing journals to help with the loneliness when the father of my first born left… being a single parent with no family around is so difficult. So my journals became my best friend, a lover even, the perfect confidant and counsellor, not judging me and whom I could tell anything to and who would go anywhere wth me.
And then after writing for a week I had the tsunami dream, the time the 2004 tsunami happened on the other side of the world from where I slept. And I was amazed and wondered why. Yes, a tidal wave was also occurring in my private life. But no many people over the world had a similar dream that night and so I wondered how, why and whether there was a cosmic connectiveness that we could all connect to, if we choose to.
At the start, journals had a main theme of finding true love, The One. I met him and it did not work out. Then Mr. Perfect, I met him and he was irritating as hell. Then mr Right, then Mr. Right Enough. I started writing when Sex and City was on the screens. Exe and the City. Where was my Mr Big? I am no longer looking though. I finally met the father of my little girl, my twin flame* and oh how i got burnt. My girl is 2 and a half now and she has not seen her dad for 11 months, and not cause I have stopped him. He was cruel and I could not believe a word that came out of his mouth. An addict, not that I judge as have since worked with many people in recovery, even some of my best friends ever have been addicted. But he, he was a narcissist*, I think, too. Yes, probably a narc and yes the typical very fashionable empath* narcissist attraction. And yes I have a new ptsd (post traumatic stress disorder*) diagnosis from the pain I let myself go through. I am learning to trust my heart again. I believe empaths need to be more narcissistic and narcs more empathic. Except they hardly ever learn to do that. My ex said he was going to have empathy tattooed on his fingers in s recent “hoovering*” attempt. I sometimes think maybe i am a narcissist, I mean who has a website called jenuine if they don’t actually like themselves and what they have to say a little bit? I think I am possibly a recovering empath. So yes, I have several trending hashtags… #ptsd #narcissist #selfharm #mental health #empath and more.
I’m not even sure I believe in a relationship (relationshit) anymore which makes me want to cry sometimes. I’m like Cinderella, the bit where she runs into the garden and flings herself on the garden bench and says “I can’t believe anymore, l can’t, l can’t…” but no fairy godmother appeared and I must grow up. I have grown up.
The other thread of the journals became about healing. I am still healing, 20 years after frost discovering Louise Hay* and her book “You Can Heal Your Body”, given to me by a fellow waitress at Pizza Express. “You mean I can heal this myself?”, I said in shock. I have never heard such a thing before. I used to scratch or rub all my skin off, especially on my face. My body is covered in scars. Eczema the doctors said, but I realised in my counselling training it was self harm. Took me ages to admit that. Plus I used to rub my eyes, actually inside the eye. Yes, I know it’s disgusting. Allergic eye disease, they said, kerataconus*. But I worked out it was from stress, like a child unable to cope, and unable to cry.
Almost 43 now. An epic work of many many books, many many journal, each journal a chapter, and still no happy ending… except me. I strive and strive to get happier and happier, more peaceful, calm, even on the days in the moments when I nothing but.
Today I have literally got through the shit in the morning to make it out and have a good day. I mean literally shIt, as my little one decided to take her nappy off, that she had pooed in, and I cld not see where she had put it and it was all over her legs and everywhere she walked (I can not see well without contact lenses… not able to wear glasses…as I have really damaged my eyes from the rubbing). I wanted to take a towel to my face and rub my skin til there was friction burns, to calm me, help me, punish me. I did actually get the towel and actually start the motion, so nice so soothing. But instead I cried. Instead I got angry with the situation, how hard it is being a single mother when I really did not want that to happen ever ever ever ever ever again. But this little girl is my great teacher, to be mindful and in the moment. I managed to regain my harmony, clear up the mess, and get ready and get out. What was a long bad moment did not turn into a bad day. It did not turn into a bad week, which is what it wld of been if I had hurt myself. It used to take two weeks for the friction burn sores to heal on my face.
jenuine, as a whole, is about being real, which i why i share what i once kept so hidden, but it is also about maybe having to fake it at times but being real about having it fake it. You know, overcoming the battles, about finding the life affirming moments, the moments you would post on Instagram or collect in your happiness jar*. jenuine is about not letting the bastards get you down, on knowing who and what and where brings you up, about breathing well, about living well.
jenuine is about the Law of Attraction*. They say that all that focus on happiness and peace literally helps rewrite your story, rewire your brain and create neuropathways for happiness. And in case no one has told you yet, you are allowed to be happy.
We are all just trying to figure it out aren’t we. So Shine. I am a work in progress. And so are you.
Thank you so much for reading. If you have any ideas for the site please send them in. Bad days when you clench your teeth and want to scream, and good days with magical moments.
With love and light, jen xxx
Ps. Oh I forgot to mention the daisies… I just have always loved them. They are my signature flower, I actually used to add them to my signature. But they represent wanting things to be simple and easy as possible. Please Join my daisy chain in the contact page.
it may seem strange that a psychotherapist who is trained to be a kind of mysterious figure is so open about their own mental health struggles. i am doing this to be part of the action to remove stigma from mental health. i am breaking free of complex ptsd. a couple of months ago i did […]
it may seem strange that a psychotherapist who is trained to be a kind of mysterious figure is so open about their own mental health struggles. i am doing this to be part of the action to remove stigma from mental health. i am breaking free of complex ptsd. in my last blog i was the […]