The Dream Continues: Engaging with Demons and Fighting Back


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I entered a Searchwarp competition to write an article with favorite quotes.  Whoever gets the most comments wins 75 smackeroos (US).   I wrote about how great that community is, and used quotes from articles that have touched me.  The response has been amazing, it’s like Christmas in While You Were Sleeping.  If you want to read the article, click here.

I gotmy first response to things I need for my singing!  James Bond – yes, that’s really his name! –  sent me a link for a site I can use to put music on my blog.   Thanks James.   Now I have to figure out how to get the music from my voice to my computer.

Realized last night after day of torture I’m not a real musician and they’ll all laugh at me or despise me or not notice me that I’m still apologizing.   Bloody hell.   I keep trying to pre-empt rejection by mega explaining, instead of just doing.  I’m going to have to put graffiti all over my walls No More Apologies. Nobody cares, anyway.  Here’s the thing.  People see whatever you present to them.  Apologize for yourself, they’ll think you’ve got something to apologize for.

The apology is about old stuff.  Eugh.   When you start taking charge of your life a tsunami wall of terror rises up within and threatens to obliterate all your good news and belief yes I can do this.  When it does is when I apologize, roll over and say don’t kick me.

If you had to be a nobody and a dog for people to kick emotionally as a child in order to survive, it’s engrained into every cell of your body,  goes way beyond your thinking brain.  You know what it’s like?  When somebody’s been attacked and they’re very badly wounded: they want to go to sleep, but if they do, they die.  So people slap them, shout at them, talk to them, do whatever they can to keep them awake.  Don’t let go.  Don’t let go.  Hold on.

It’s the same thing when you’re claiming your life emotionally.  Well, I can’t curl up and give in, can’t let go.  Won’t.  I’m going to have my life.  Yesterday in therapy I found that young child in me who never spoke up, never shouted and kicked and defended herself, never let herself be angry.  I was astonished.  Before this, whenever I’ve found the child in me, I’ve curled up in a heap, needed to be held, defended, protected.

Yesterday was different.  I didn’t want to cry, I wanted to defend myself.  Bloody hell, stop bullying me.  God I love therapy.  You get to do the things you haven’t been able to do all your life.  You get applauded, celebrated for it.  You get to stand up for yourself, feel that part of you that refuses to apologize come to life.  Whoopeee.

Right, on with the rest of my day.  Apart from the usual singing and practicing and writing, find out:  i) cost of printing script,  ii) cost of sending script to US,  iii) mic;  iv) pc stuff for putting songs onto blog;  v) recording equipment;  vi) digital camera;  vii) piano tuning,  viii) cost of phone calls to US.   Also, make list of people to send Meeting Robert de Niro to.

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