Failure & Loneliness .


The Power of Now.   The observer looking in and not judging or thinking.

Failure and loneliness .  That’s what I came up with when I stopped to meditate and listen to my ego / pain body / self  .    Those moments when you really stop and listen .   Really give yourself time and a kind word.

So , currently ,  I am spouting unconscious judgement and derision on myself for putting on a bit of weight and for seemingly being unable to halt it,   to take myself to task. I can almost hear the whispers (and I am listening very intently)   ‘ you’re useless , you’re greedy , you never actually thought you’d be naturally slim ? ‘  .    They continue,   ‘ you’ve been deluded for a while,  you’ll never get back to what you want , you’re going to fail ‘  .   And to cope with these almost imperceptible thoughts ,  I have the desire for food,  for sweetness,  for a mouth filled with delights;   to help sooth the ache in my soul.

Eckhart Tolle says:

” But ,  look closely and you will find that your thinking and behaviour are designed to keep the pain going,   for yourself and others.  If you were truly conscious of it , the pattern would dissolve ,  for to want more pain is insanity  and nobody is consciously insane . ”  

Problem is , I have reached this point before,   I know that I am soothing myself with the very thing that I don’t want .  The question is how do I continue to balance myself so that I remain with this body that I am happy with.    Why do I forget the awfulness of being fat and in pain ;  so much so that I begin to eat again?

What is that powerful force beneath the layers that catapults me into a space in time where food is the controller.

The failure feeling  also comes from my sense of being a parent.   I have one child who is very overweight and refuses to go to school and another child (man-child)  who can’t control his illicit drug – taking enough to do his school work and function in a normal way .

I do well at showing the world that I am together.  That I do not blame myself.   That I am in fact an extraordinary mother ,  in my ability to accept and love my children for who they are. That I am a free spirit who will allow my children to be and become who they need to be and in their own time.    But underneath ,    I am viciously attacking myself.    It’s almost a cloak room whisper.     A passing undercurrent of nastiness that you don’t quite hear,  but you know it’s about you.     ‘ What did you do?   How did you manage to get it so wrong?  Who do you think you are ?   Other people are  so much better than you’.      

And then comes the loneliness.   They say that when you become spiritually awake ,  you become lonely.  The futility of everyday conversation becomes almost unbearable. The incessant need for recognition,   the all encompassing obsessions with children’s futures ,  the absorption in career.  The disinterest I feel  in any conversation which is even mildly classed as ‘  small talk  ‘.     The boredom.    Then the fear that it is actually you  who is the fraud.    You are the issue,  you are shallow and needy.   You are bored with people , so you are in fact the problem.

I want to be free from the desire of food.   That is my desire,  which in itself causes suffering.   So I need to just ‘BE’  ,   but it doesn’t work .   I have a roll of fat on my stomach that wasn’t here last year.    It’s frustrating ,  it’s shameful,   it’s my fault.

So today isn’t a good day.    I do feel lonely ,  ashamed & heavy – hearted.    I am also consciously eating to sooth these feelings.   How do you destroy that bridge ?  I built the bridge.  It’s hard to knock it down.   To even stop using that road .

Turn left down the road less travelled.   And for fucks sake ,  do it now,   before you have another 50 lbs that you want to lose  all over again. ..

It’s the cycle isn’t’ it.    The maintenance feels good ,   it gets cosy ,  it doesn’t produce intensity.     RE-feeding ,   piling on the weight,   it gives intensity ,   the losing ,   the addictive nature of it all.      I want OUT.    I don’t want food to be who I am .




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