Unconditional Love and Money

Money or not enough of it is just in my face.  The R500 I was offered as down payment to sell the timeshare ended up being R250. I wouldn’t have agreed to do work for payment that might never happen if I’d thought that was the deal. It was a huge shock. Thought you were going to be safe? I’ll show you.

So now I have R350.  $50 separating me from the street.  I’ve still got a couple of days’ worth of food, and money now for another 10 days. That makes two weeks. I haven’t been able to sell my furniture yet, but it’s still a possibility, and I can sell my fridge. Beyond that, I can’t let myself think about it, it’ll paralyze me.

I know essentially this is not about the money, it’s about my self-esteem, which is directly linked to my entitlement, but a lot of it plays out in the arena of money, so sometimes it gets confusing. I guess the self-esteem comes first, but I’ve seen communities rescue people from the mess of their lives – bankruptcy, tragedies – and give them the money they need to get on their feet.

I’ve seen those people accept that money. I haven’t thought there was anything wrong with it – in fact it’s been pretty moving. So did it rescue them from a journey they’ll have to take anyway, did it enable them to ignore the wake-up call, or did it help to repair self-esteem? I haven’t figured it out yet.  The only thing I can be sure of is that the criticism, you are nothing, you are dirt, you are pathetic – it comes from me. It’s still very alive, and very powerful. It’s a demon I haven’t conquered yet.

I don’t want to be rescued from my challenges, I just want to not feel like I’m an orphan in the entire universe. I’ve paid for the mess that my childhood experiences made of my life, we all do. I also paid very harshly for the mistakes I made that led to my bankruptcy and to where I am at the moment.  Even though others were involved – I took the fall for it all.

I don’t want to take the fall any more.  I don’t want to pay so harshly any more.  It’s enough now.  Enough punishment, enough deprivation.  I need to know and experience the gentleness of life, the fullness and generosity of love, back-up and support.

And I’m not crazy.  I’m for more universal support in my journey of emerging healed from what I was born into and transforming what I was given into what I can be.  Some of that support is obviously about love; on the material plane, some of that support is about money.

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Bankruptcy, Poverty and Shame. Wanting Relief

I’m not enjoying myself today.  I’m hungry to have had a different history. Hungry for anything but the truth.  I don’t want to be where I am, don’t want to have found life so challenging, don’t want my bankruptcy to have happened, don’t want to have needed it to wake up to myself at a deeper level.  I don’t want to have taken so long to re-build myself and my life.

I just don’t.  It’s raining outside.  I’m raining inside.  Cup’s half empty.

I want solution quicker than I’m able to access it.  I don’t want a crappy rusty car that could break down at any time, and that has bald tires – I want one in good condition and is safe. I want a warm jersey and a pair of jeans, and a pair of track shoes. Mine are falling apart. I want to earn money with my writing. I want someone to reach out to me and say “hey, you could do this, this is how you go about it, I’ll show you”.

I want to not be ashamed of myself all the fucking time.

How am I going to make it out of this whole mess? I’m 54, and still wrestling, still trying to find a place of normalcy for myself, a place in the world that isn’t driven or defined by neuroses – mine or anybody else’s.  I’m still shuffling off, not this mortal coil, but the aspect of me that doesn’t belong to me.  At least I’m doing it.  I suppose.

I’ve always been dogged by fear that I was crazy.  I guess it’s understandable.   Thing is, I know the real me and also see the me that I was conditioned to be.  I can separate them out and distinguish between them.

I can also identify the dialogue in my head which has controlled me all my life, and separate it out into the different ego states of parent, adult and child.  I can see how we hold beliefs that we aren’t aware of, have emotions we don’t know about.  I know that unexpressed emotions create depression.  I can see the abandoned children in people. Does all this mean I’m just becoming conscious, or does it mean I’m crazy?

I so want to be done with all this.  I want to move on for real – at the deepest part of me, so I can be done with my history because I’ve brought my repressed emotions out and addressed my unmet needs, and my baggage is unpacked.  Otherwise, what’s the point?  I do want that right at the core of me, but today I can’t really care, I don’t want to be sensible.  I just want relief.