My Divine within (on fear)

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Dwelling thoughts

Like ocean storm

Rise and fall

Bruising thy gentle soul

She keeps searching

For the Light of Sunrise

But sky is covered-

Solid grey..its crying..

Deafened by the thunder drums

She can’t hear her essence calling,

Can’t feel her voice,

Nor can she sing…

Heart quickens by the fear,

Wings freeze-..can’t seem to keep a beat

Time remains oddly still

Or goes too fast-its hard to tell..

 

What lasts, what fills her heart

And helps her bear through-

-Hope & Faith-

The only Rays of Light within

Shining gently on her Truth

‘This too shall pass’-

And suffering endured

Will soon come to an end

Where her Loving Light

Will once again

Hold her in a warm embrace

Hold her forever

Through any time and space.

“Dear child, look up”,

She heard herself,

And so she did- Oh, Joy!,

A vibrant Ray of Loving Light

Broke the morning gloom

Brightening the murky sky-

Every corner lit!..

‘Is that you?  – At last?!-

Oh, Light of Me, come, rise-

Please shine again,

Dispel the darkness of the fear

Illusion grasping all of me,

Dissolve its ugly shadow here,

Free my Divine within.”

Me (Feb’16)

❤ to all

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Today

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It’s been 3.5 years since my brain fell into a cognitive glitch (anxiety disorder), countless ups and downs later, change of themes, countless anxiety attacks, merciless rumination… I am still here, much better, blessed it be, but still stumbling to find the path through the thick layers of the ego fear and conditioned cognition.

Prison.. if trying to describe anxiety in a word, that would be it. A mental prison that isolates you from you. A 24/7 prison of doubt and fear, regardless of which you still need to function and be all that you are… (mom, wife, worker.. you)

I miss me, I really do, the most important parts of me, the brave ones, the one of not feeling fear, of clarity … love and joy, happiness in noticing all the little moments of pure love .. they are still there, just hidden in the shadows casted by the thick branches of my anxiety baobab.

After following my inner guidance (the joy of helping and healing) & being attuned in Reiki I & II something wonderful happened, I ‘woke’ up briefly for a week, (a beautiful experience) but the ego got terrified and pulled me back into the baobab shadow. That week was amazing, there was no fear, no doubt .. just me- joy, love and peace, compassion- a knowing without knowing that everything will be ok. But I guess as a friend said I wasn’t ready for it yet.

Our ego is part of each one of us, and it does have and serve a purpose, but at a certain point (this lifetime or the next) we are ready to transcend it, for most of us I guess this happens in the ‘afternoon’ of our lives (as a wise man said)., or after times of huge emotional turmoil. Ego will always be a part of us, and I believe one of the ways to move beyond its controlling and overpowering nature is to accept it and basically ‘shut it up’ with love.. though will get back to you on that one, still have to get there .

I’ve asked so many times, why?, why I have to go through this, even though I know the answer, it’s my path, my means to grow, to heal, to help. (.. my ego laughs quietly in the background ‘who are you to do so” )… the ugliness of my fears makes me doubt my very core, which in turns produces even more fear robbing me of my confidence, power and light.

It is extremely frustrating having all the knowledge to get pass anxiety and yet your brain seems quite reluctant to just ‘get it’ and stop getting stuck in an endless looping …

This too shall pass.. maktub

Prayer

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This goes out to a couple i know, who just got to experience the most joyfull event in their life only to hear some months later that that little miracle won’t last .. bless them ❤
——-

I pray for those in spirits low,

Whom life a sorrow has bestow,

It may be a loss, an illness,

Or a cross,

We all have them-

Some more.. some less…

I pray for you,

So Light envelops gently

Your injured soul

Your very core

And guides you soft and steady

Through the abyss of the dark,

So you can reach

The safety of a shore,

Where a new journey

Awaits you to embark.

I feel for you and pray for you-

Take a piece of my own Light,

So you won’t lose your way,

So you won’t walk astray.

It’ll all be well,

Believe it, as I believe in you.

We all are given

What we can bare,

Even when it’s hard

To take a simple draw for air…             

Let your soul

Defy the depths of fear,

And lift your spirit up.

Do not despair,

And search

For the little piece of Light,             

I send to you

In my humble prayer.

Me ®

Fear

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The thick dark fog of fear

Clutches mercilessly my brain

The heart spins madly out of beat

Reasoning and logic seem shut

I know better .. and yet,

At times-

It doesn’t seem to help

Countless little drops of sweat

Gather through my every pore

I feel literally the ‘fire’

Enveloping my very core…

Absurd ugliness this is,

Running through my head

Rumination they call it-

Horror at its best

Tormenting my every cell…

Love and light come back to me,

Reason you know better –

Dare not abandon me…

I am Light, as I am Love

Fears are to be prevailed

Darkness to be illuminated

So we know better the brave

And we shine a brighter Light!

Me

 

On ‘Pure O’ OCD by Fletcher Wortmann

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“The Real Experience Of Obsession”

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“Oh my god. I am so OCD.”

I know you’ve been obsessed, so tell me: what’s your poison? What did it for you? Was it an unrequited crush? Some esoteric branch of knowledge you could never quite master? A mop-haired teen idol with the face and vocal range of a neutered kitten? An old grudge you know will never be put right? Trouble at work, at home, in bed, in church? Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim?

Every one has been in that situation, when you wish you could quit thinking about something. Yet when you say “Stop,” your brain, politely but insistently, says “No.”

I have Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD). But I want you to consider your own obsessions before we talk about my clinical ones, because the line between the two is not as clean and distinct as you might think. I suffer from debilitating obsessions that can leave me paralyzed by anxiety, and from compulsive ritual behaviors that can consume me for hours at a time. But in their structure (not necessarily in their content, and certainly not in their persistence) my obsessions are quite similar to yours.

You already know what it’s like to be crazy; you just don’t know you know it yet.

As I describe in my book Triggered: A Memoir of Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder: Obsession comes from a simple glitch in cognition. Ordinarily, you have a built-in time clock in your mind. After turning over a certain problem for a while, a committee of highly efficient businesspeople in your brain decides, “okay, that’s probably the best solution we can come up with for now,” and they table the issue and move on. That’s healthy and normal.

When you obsess, however, your mind is taken over by a demented executive with the disposition of The Office‘s Michael Scott or Parks and Recreation’s Leslie Knope, she of the 48-hour telethon. So, as if hijacked by an NBC sitcom character, your mind refuses to admit defeat, to accept that you just can’t come up with a better answer. After all, what’s the harm in thinking about it just a little more? And more again? A sliver of doubt persists that you haven’t examined the issue from every angle; and so you wrestle with your problem a little longer, trying to find a new solution that reduces your uncertainty and leaves you satisfied.

‘Obsession’ is kind of a sexy word; it evokes models in cologne advertisements, with tight, white underpants and bedroom eyes. Yet the experience of being obsessed is irritating and embarrassing, like having to wear that underwear yourself. For most people, that’s as far as it goes, and obsession is a fleeting annoyance that passes quickly. Obsessive-compulsives are less fortunate. We are taken in, every time, by the promise of one more look at the problem, even if we’ve already worked on it for hours, days, months. (Etymological fact of the day: according to Merriam-Webster, “obsess” derives from the Latin obsessus, which means “to besiege.”)

Sometimes this results in physical, visible compulsions. If we are obsessed with the possibility of catching a disease we may wash our hands over and over again. If we are frightened of hell, we may run our rosary until the chain snaps. But these physical compulsions, which so many assume are the greatest burden of OCD, may be only modest indicators of a terrible internal struggle.

Some of the most distressing forms of OCD have no visible signs, no tangible compulsions. I happen to manage a variant of the disorder referred to as “Pure O,” or purely obsessional OCD, characterized by runaway intrusive thoughts. With Pure O, the mind is held captive by its worst nightmares: fears that the world is about to end, for instance, or that the sufferer is a murderer or a sexual deviant who could succumb to uncontrollable violent urges at any moment.

With Pure O, these problems cannot be put to rest through physical rituals like hand-washing or counting. Instead, the sufferer is left obsessing, silently and almost continuously, incapable of finding conclusive proof that these hideous scenarios will not occur. We cannot tell anyone, for fear of being labeled paranoid or psychotic, and because our symptoms are internal, we are rarely offered aid.

If a sadistic billionaire decided to gather every Pure O sufferer into an Arkham City of twitching misery, then (according to Lee Baer’s The Imp of the Mind) it would be the fourth-largest metropolis in the United States. Yet the disorder continues to be under-diagnosed. It is the invisibility of the disease that gives it power: because so few can recognize our symptoms and because so many do not understand them, many of us struggle for decades before successful diagnosis.

OCD sufferers aren’t straight-jacketed neurotics or treacherous psychopaths or lovable buffoon detectives. We are people who suffer, in a way that is familiar to almost every one, but to a degree that no one should have to endure.

I lost the first twenty years of my life to OCD but I hope that, by continuing to spread awareness of the nature of the disorder, we can bring it out of the shadows and work to alleviate the suffering of so many.