Don't Hide the Sins of the Parents

My humble opinion at the Goodreads site about the book by Joseph Le Doux "Anxious: Using the Brain to Understand and Treat Fear and Anxiety ":

"I really appreciate the effort Joseph Le Doux put in writing this book, but, to be honest, from the perspective of the person who is suffering from severe anxiety problems, it is completely useless work. It's not helping, and it should - otherwise, what is this whole effort for? It's not explaining anything, though the title contains the word "understand". I, myself, can figure why I am so scared and why it is so hard to feel better, so I will remain at my own way of looking for help."

I was about to add that 'neuroscientists are morons', but it wouldn't be just since I don't know works of many of them and maybe there are some good books they have written. 

The opinion came for two reasons. One, the Author listed some causes of anxiety problems and none of them had any sense. Two, he wrote - correctly - that experiencing anxiety problems is very unpleasant and that most of the people (everyone I presume) want to get rid of the fear they feel every day and that the science's role is to find how to bring some relief. 

In regard to the reason one, I expressed what I really think about the causes of (my) anxiety in the previous post. Genetic or environmental factors are secondary to the relations that were built by our parents or carers when the matrix of our nervous system had been formed. 

When it comes about the reason two, I am absolutely sure that both contemporary psychiatry and science are totally wrong claiming that the sick people need to take meds (psychotropics) and that there is no other way to help them. Sorry, but this is a f***ing mistake. 

Indeed, the anxiety or fear or anything else that makes we feel frightened is awful (whole the deliberation concerning terminology was also annoying while reading). But! It didn't come from nowhere. In my case, the origin of my fears is very clear though very hard to accept out of very simple reason: I was afraid of a person who I loved the most thus I was raised in constant cognitive dissonance thus... I hid the real causes from myself and other people (sometimes other people intentionally were hiding it from me).

And the problem is in this hiding. 

Believe me, there is no better way to hide the sins of our parents than meds prescribed by psychiatrists, produced by scientists. They make us fuzzy, sleepy, spaced out... And they induce other problems - e.g. with digestive system - that even more cover the real issues. 

The only way to get better is to face the problem. Face it! Not escape. I myself didn't believe that I am strong enough to make it, but once another psychosis episode approached me, I felt that it's too much and that I need to work this problem out in a different way. 

So, it turned out that the truth sets us free for real.

 

Simple Recipe for Schizophrenia

Black clouds have been gathering over my head for some time now. This is a real dark, nothing made up. 

This is the fear that becomes like a snowball - it is growing, increasing its size. It may not be real, yet it is... 

Something happened a long time ago. This event caused irreversible changes in the way my brain has been functioning: it always tries to come back to that painful experience by pushing me to the thoughts and emotions (think the thoughts induce the emotions) that would invoke the whole sequence of mental states.

So, you may ask, what did happen?

Well, I have no bloody idea. I don't remember, for who wants to remember such thing that had fried your brain?

I still insist on coming back to the past, instead of rationalization of current events, of one particular reason: as an adult person, I've been through so many and so bad things - all of which I overcame smoothly and with courage - that I should have learned that there is nothing to fear... But I didn't. I see again how my body and mind are preparing for another psychosis episode. They are doing so because they were created to stand guard over the Truth and they don't care that my conscious was trained to deny it for the sake of the comfort of other people. And the Truth is someone had hurt me a long time ago and never redressed it. 

My anxiety is in regard to:

1. being rejected (in general, not only by certain people)

2. losing things that belong to me and that I worked very hard for (it also concerns basic needs like my flat, food, even nationality) - in two words: being robbed

3. being invisible (anything I do or say is unnoticed or disregarded)

4. being a victim of some kind of collusion (though it contradicts the point above) of people who want to get rid of me... 

Yep. Once I wrote these sentences, I saw my problem in a little bit different light. Let's face it.

1. As a child, I was constantly terrified that my mother would reject me (I had been writing about that not once, also in my books); moreover, she was maintaining that others don't accept me. That's right! My own mother was telling me such things.

2. I was robbed of many things, but maybe let's start with my father and the right to have him. Imagine you need to live with the person who took you something essential and you are obliged to love, adore and honor her... You cannot fight for your rights (like you can fight as a citizen who doesn't want to pay higher taxes) and everybody around you is backing her, not you, hence...

3. ...you sometimes feel like an invisible creature. You try to say something, to scream or just to die - everything seems to be good as long as that would ensure you any attention. 

4. Okay, though it really sounds like paranoia, I did experience the situations in which I was hounded and bullied, e.g. in the army when I reported sexual abuse... But! The people who scare me the most are members of my mother's family. I am seriously frightened, for they did give me a reason to be so. They are insane and dangerous. And they constantly plot against me (luckily, I have the witnesses for their lunacy). 

So now... let nobody tells me that the cause of schizophrenia is something mysterious. 

The Cascade Catastrophy

Last time, I wrote about being triggered by something that may lead a person to commit the suicide... Well, despite there might be the events that occur right now, the real reason is hidden in our brains and was created a long time ago. It would be good to find the primary cause and face it.

Today, something bad happened to me. I am not sharing the details with anyone (except my 'analog' diary), for I know that, for most of the people, the situation is trivial. But not for me. And it did trigger whole the sequence of bad thoughts and emotions in my body, leading me straight to the edge of despair. 

Why?

As a child and a teenager, I always had to be perfect. And my every decision and action must have been good. This was not about perfectionism but about how other people think and look at me. If anything was going wrong - in my mother's opinion - and there was a slight possibility that someone else could have criticized me, I was sure I won't have a life at home. The punishment was definite. And cruel. And lasting.

And this is what I am afraid of - the lasting punishment, the cascade catastrophy: wry face, evil words (or silence for a week or more), rejection, anger... All these just because I did something 'wrong', that I placed her in an unfavorable light in front of other people's eyes. 

Now, after many years those situations took place (though not so many), the wound on my nervous system is still open and bleeding. I constantly dwell on evaluating what would she have thought about this or that, and the list of 'wrong' things according to her hasn't changed whatsoever. 

The main problem is that, by her vicious 'upbringing', I wasn't taught that some people sometimes may have a negative opinion about me, and if they do, it doesn't decrease my value and it doesn't take away my elementary right for living the normal life.

The Abyss

Today, I read on Twitter about the suicidal death of a woman, young, beautiful, smart and kind person, who was a TV star broadcasting the weather. As someone commented, 'no one knows what for real is in other person's head'. 

Well, I may tell you - it's an Abyss. 

A couple of times, I had these strange dreams about traveling into the darkness where there was simply big Nothing. The Abyss. And this is how most of my days look like: traveling into the darkness.

Why?

I can tell you that too. 

Me, as a baby and toddler, waiting for my mother coming back from her various 'entertainments' - those were the moments when I was traveling into the deepest darkness in the Universe, for I was dying thinking that she would never come back.

Me, as a ten-year-old and as a teenager, waiting for my mother coming home after work - those were the journeys into the evil darkness, for I was sure that, once she comes, she will torment me again and again.

This is waiting for something bad. 

And, as in my case, it always comes. Being abandoned by my mother (and also by an absent father) was as much dreadful as her being around. An impossible situation, without salvation. And it lasts. It has never ended. This is how my brain works. And my body. 

After work, I am coming back home and I am terrified though there is no one here who could hurt me. I sit in my flat and I am trembling when hearing any noise behind my double door.  And sometimes, bad things happen - and these are the moments I cannot deal with. 

You have no idea what kind of 'stupid' issues may trigger someone to commit the suicide. Except they are not banal, not for us, for they are the wide road to the darkness.

Psychiatrists are Idiots

The main problem of the contemporary psychiatry is that the vast majority of patients are badly diagnosed. Why? Because, in fact, the doctors and psychologists don't listen to them. At all! And this is not like in the TV series, House M.D., where the patients were being blamed for not being honest with their doctors in every single episode (the episode 1 of the first season was titled "Everybody lies"). The doctors I came across didn't want me to be honest, for they had their own agenda in treating me. The psychiatrists (and other kinds of doctors) were not interested in my truth, in my story I wanted to tell them. As I wrote in "The Notes from the Abyss", I don't like shrinks because, instead of healing, they try to cope with their own problems by using other people, dependent on them (and they are not aware of that whatsoever). 

The most common situation - in which I also was - is when a psychiatrist tries to make peace between the patient and his or her parents. My psychiatrist, the dumbest person I met, herself had some issues with dad and, by convincing me that I am doing wrong not to talking to my mother, she was dealing with her own demons. She didn't want to hear about my mother's deeds (even if she was able to admit that she 'might' have been a bad parent). If she would have listened to me, she would know that the meds she prescribed me were useless because I am not bipolar but I have very serious anxiety problems caused by a sadistic person who was raising me. I was so scared that I wasn't able to admit that I am... scared as if it was something shameful. Back then, I needed someone who could understand my situation and helped me to recall what really happened. Instead, it took me over five long years to get to this very conclusion by myself. 

Chance One in a Milion

Most of my friends don't know me. Not to mention my own family. I mean... When I think about it longer, I realize that no one knows me, like at all. 

I discovered that fact after publishing "The notes from the abyss" when some people started looking at me with this weird look and asking strange questions. It was shocking, however, explained a lot.

The funny thing is the only people on this planet who have any idea who I really am are the readers who bought "The Notes..." or "Guide for (Ultimate) Losers." 

At some point, this situation is my fault, because it is the evident manifestation of the two worlds I have been writing about: I was focused on building the world No 2 that, in fact, is something unreal, some fake I created believing that it would ensure me people's love and attention because the world No 1 is the reason to be ashamed of. 

But! At some point, this situation is not my fault. It was coerced by others - my family in the first place and my 'educators' from school times. Later on, I had this misfortune to meet 'friends' who had been forcing me to be someone else too. My struggle and pain were inconveniences. 

I was always afraid (and many people had been telling me so) that once I'd open up and be me, nobody would like me. I then didn't know that being 'liked' is not the most crucial thing in this world and that being real me means the chance for meeting persons who could like me for real.

The Biggest Surprise Ever

Couple of weeks ago, I wrote:

'You don't know if the upcoming events will ruin the fragile fundament your emotional stability depends on...'

Today, I know something very important that may change my daily basis in the future. 

In the next posts, I described my ordeal with anxiety, fear and suicidal thoughts. And, suddenly, it struck me that this is the answer to the unasked question:

What for real is this 'fragile fundament' my emotional stability depends on?

In case of people who were raised by normal loving parents or carers, this fundament is their own self. In my case, it had been always my mother with her moods and unpredictable behavior (wrongly named 'love'). I've learned that I have no right to feel good until she wouldn't let me. I couldn't be convinced that I have right to live until I didn't receive her approval. Later on, other people showed up who were very similar to her, preying on this weakness... I was trained not to live but to be depended on somebody else's opinion and decision. I had been trying this trick also with God - the Giver of freedom; as expected, He didn't played this game.

So, how does it look in real life? In life where there is no longer my mother nor other bad people? You may assume, it is much better... But it's not, because the nerve system still works its own way.

It is exactly how I described it in the post: 'Suicidal Daily Basis'. This is the living in uncertainty. Waiting for something bad and scary - just as I had been waiting many years ago. 

But when I focus myself on the cause of my state, this anxiety fades. And this was the biggest surprise I've experienced since I remember. It actually works! 

I imagine myself my internal world as if it was standing on very unstable base, and the base simply is my mother's mood and opinion. I remove it, e.g. by smashing with the hammer, and put myself on the stabile ground: my-own-self. I am no longer shaking. I am standing. And now I can walk.

50 Shades of Pain

I still don't know how to merge the two worlds I live in... But at least I know better now why do they exist.

If I look closer at my emotions, I can see very clearly what kind of situation I was in as a child and that I had been desperately trying to recreate it as an older me. While experiencing the rejection from the mother (later on from the father and other important people), you may feel as if you are not invited to the world you want to find yourself the most. Mother's role (or someone who is replacing her) is crucial when we are very little babies. We need her as if she was some kind of a mirror in which we can see us and gain the certainty that we are real and that our emotions are true. If she doesn't ensure this... we have the impression we live in two separate worlds.

After many years, it turned out that I was always right by trying to recreate that situation when I attempted to gain somebody's attention and to acquire the permission to become the part of this person's life. Well... of course, I was right until I was using my brain and getting the point that repeating this actions one by one (with different people) is complete nonsense. I needed to stop and think what I am really doing. What am I recreating? 

The thing is I cannot simply stop doing it. I cannot say that I don't need this love and the sense I am important to someone who is important to me. But the biggest issue is that people important to me don't want me... So - impasse?

No! Everything is fine, since I am aware. Awareness, again, saves me, even if I tend to think that I am lost... The knowledge gives me the opportunity to direct my actions and thoughts where they should be. Pain doesn't disappear nor fade, whatsoever. Still, it has a little bit different shade than before.

The Only Companion I Have

In the book "The Notes from the Abyss", I wrote that I distinguished at least five main factors that may lead to suicide thoughts... 

Well, I thought I was very honest by doing so, and that I am opening up about my real experiences and feelings. But the list is not completed. There is one particular thing making my life unbearable and turning my daily basis into nightmare. 

It is fear.

Not an anxiety, described in specialistic literature (e.g. by Joseph LeDoux), but rather the terror...

What I am afraid of?

My own mother. 

Since I remember (since I was two or three-year-old), I was scared to death in her presence. 

Now, imagine this situation - you live with the person you love the most; you are depended on her in every aspect of your life; you are alone and nobody knows what you're going through... And that person is your tormentor, some kind of lunatic that hurts you every time you look at her, and sometimes she's nice and seems to have quite clear mind.

First of all, I was afraid that she's gonna kill me. Literally. Unbelievable? Unheard of? She wouldn't be the first parent who kills the child after all, would she?

Second, I was physically maltreated. Tapped, pinched, brutally treated (e.g. when dressed). And couple of times severely beaten. I was constantly experiencing some kind of pain. All day long... 

Third, and probably the worst for my nerve system, I was humiliated, ashamed, offended, or just left alone, e.g. when she had decided not to talk to me for three days out of no reason. I don't remember any good day in my life with her. 

To sum up - I am trained only to be scared. The fear accompanies me in every second, every minute... and it never leaves me. But I want to leave the fear. I don't want to feel it anymore. But nothing helped. NOTHING! The death seemed to be the one and only solution.

To be honest, I was trying to find the remedy in wrong places and with wrong people. And this is not odd if we consider that I didn't really named the problem. Even when my friend, the lawyer, has been telling me that I am nothing to be afraid of, that the law protects me - I didn't feel a relieve. I think that I am only at the very beginning of my road to something better...

Anchor

I'm sure, you all know the touching stories about people who were trying to commit suicide, but, just before this final act, they met someone kind who told them not to do so... 

And how many people did NOT meet such person? 

I didn't.

I am invisible with my problems. Just as many other people are. 

We shouldn't be deluded - vast majority of population not only has little awareness about mental health problems, but they are not even interested in increasing their knowledge or empathy. We are alone. 

And I think that it is huge mistake to wait for someone who could help us. It is waste of time. Moreover, this attitude may lead us to making our condition even worse. 

I didn't kill myself only for one reason - Faith. I believed in God and I entrusted Him... But the example of my grandmother showed me that sometimes it is not enough. There is something missing that I should have given myself. And this one thing is God's gift: a talent. 

If I feel badly - I write. 

If I have problem that seems to be unbeatable - I write. 

If someone hurts me - I write.

My late uncle, while fighting with certain issues, was baking the cakes (and they were delicious). 

And everyone should find this one thing that become our anchor keeping us safe and alive.

Adoption is not an Option

I've never told about that anyone. I didn't even say this thing to myself, I didn't write it down in my diaries, thinking that if I will avoid the truth it would disappear. 

It didn't. 

The truth has this one feature that, when denied, it becomes real 'problem', it grows and tugs us stronger and stronger, until something breaks...

I regret I was born. 

Simple as that. Yet... appalling and unbelievable. 

I regret I came to this world and that I live my life. Why? At the first glimpse, because of the pain I live with. Because of the shame I feel though there is no reason to feel it. 

But when I go down deeper into my emotions, I see this unspoken thought suggesting that I shouldn't be born, because it would make some things easier... 

The question is what things? And for whom?

The demonic answer is that for me. I'm serious. I hear that 'voice' in my head. But this is ridiculous. 

I remember very well the countless situations my mother had been saying that she 'regrets' I was with her, because, if it wasn't for me, she could go out for a date with this handsome policeman... or do anything else. She was the one who was constantly pondering how her life would look like if she didn't have me. And she is not an exceptional situation, for we all heard about parents telling their children that they ruined the parents' lives only by coming to this world. 

So, by thinking I regret I was born, I still protect her. She didn't abort me and this is something good (but nothing extraordinary), however she had no ability to take care of me and she wasn't mature enough to find me someone who would ensure better protection and upbringing for me.

(Writer's) Independence Day

Today, Poland celebrates 100 years of Independence. And this is something really big and important. 

I know very well how it is not to be independent and has no right to have own identity... Unfortunately, also as a writer. But at least at this one aspect I could reclaim my rights and publish books I write without 'help' of any third party.

Yesterday, I managed to publish the collection of essays "The Notes from the Abyss" in paperback. The book is now available on Amazon, and, what is important, it is not expensive ;) 

LINK

👇👇👇

14 Reasons

The reasons I find myself not worthy of living:

1. I am not fully healthy

2. I cannot cope when working with psychopaths 

3. I spend money - for food, clothes, shoes, bus tickets, books, furniture (yes, basically everything)

4. I am not young

5. I am not pretty 

6. I am not skinny

7. I have no husband nor kids

8. My publisher is a thief 

9. My books don't sell well

10. I didn't provide any positive input for the society (I am not a good person)

11. God did not listen to my prayers (when I asked for one specific thing)

12. I don't speak to my family

13. I breathe

14. I am terrified 

Now, look at the list above and add one sentence: "and this is my fault". 

For I am blaming myself for everything - real or imagined. 

But there is something deeper, the fundament - conviction that until these reasons are live I am not worthy of being loved. 

And look at the point 14. - I am blaming myself for anxiety, my fears, psychosis that have been tormenting me for years. And this has no sense (if I think about it with clear mind), whatsoever. Yet the fear is the second 'leg' my mental problems are standing on, apart of guilt. 

The most important aspect of this situation is that I am programmed to find the new reasons as if some kind of tape with strange voice was broadcasted every time I feel better. Some evil power tries to pull me down and, in certain occasions, it is stronger and more vicious. 

But there is the truth hidden from my sight for years: the list shouldn't exist. This way of thinking is a denial of God's Law; this faul mindset that we need to 'deserve' for love, for life... And the fear I am experiencing is about I will never be good enough and I will never feel what does it mean to be loved. And if so... then the life has no sense.

Suicidal Daily Basis

In our lives, nothing can be taken for granted. But there is nothing less sure than living the life of a person with mental health problems. You don't know what the next day will bring, what may cause you're gonna feel even worse than yesterday; you cannot predict what could make you more anxious than you are daily. And you don't know if the upcoming events will ruin the fragile fundament your emotional stability depends on...

In my case, the absolute turn was when I accepted the fact that I cannot guarantee myself that I will stand another day without doing something stupid or harmful. I didn't do such a thing, still... I cannot be deluded. This awareness was one burden less on my shoulders.

For the most part of my life, I felt I was hounded. And, unfortunately, in too many situations, it wasn't only feeling but reality. I was hounded and bullied by my own mother and her family. Thus I become easy prey for other predators - at school, in the army, at my work... And this is something I cannot prevail, for I don't know whether another person will be tormenting me tomorrow and, by doing this, she or he will destroy me again. 

Tormented since the Cradle

I read somewhere that Franz Kafka was convinced that he shouldn't write, because 'God doesn't want that'. Well, if you'd read his biography (Kafka's, not God's), you'd realise that he probably was transferring his feelings from his father to the Almighty. 

From my experience - of a writer and a child of bad parent - God is the first and sometimes the only Person on this world that wants us to develop our talents, simply because He gave us them as a gift to be developed. It is not in our parents' interest to see us thriving and being successful. Why? Because, in their crooked minds, such situation may cause they will lose control and they won't be able to do with us whatever they want (they are also jealous, mean or just stupid). Of course, not every parent wants to manipulate and control the kids... But there are also mothers and fathers who want to exploit the skills of their children - just look at some sportsmen and sportswomen, destroyed by sick ambitions of the people who should have took care of them instead of tormenting them since the cradle times.

But let's get back to Kafka. We share the same birth date and, unfortunately, the same conviction that God doesn't want us to be happy and to do what we love... And again - I need to verify this belief, for it is very unfair towards God and His plan for me. 

(Un)Aborted

As I wrote in my book "Guide for (Ultimate) Losers", people who survived an abortion or were unwanted (so the abortion was an option), very often are damaged. The natural, given by God, right to live was challenged, just as it was in my case, also after my birth when I was abused, both physically and emotionally.

For the most part of my existence, I wasn't aware of the fact that I am constantly questioning my basic rights and that, in fact, I don't feel worthy of living. My all prayers had been starting from begging Lord for death, for I couldn't stand such a situation. Maybe I was asking for His permission and confirmation that I am worthy of something, not for terminating my life? Of course, as a Catholic, I felt guilty that I don't want to prolong my existence, allegedly the biggest gift of Almighty... But I had to be honest because only honesty had been keeping me in vertical. 

God didn't take my life nor He didn't send me a solution for my problem... I shared the fate of millions of souls from all around the world suffering the excruciating pain of mental illness. And I was trying whatever I could to find the cure. I didn't find it either, but I found the answers and Awareness. I've learned about causes, symptoms and ineffective treatments that cost billions. I read dozens of books. I wrote thousands of pages of my memoirs... I know. I understand. I am aware. I've changed my life. But I am not feeling any better.

There was however something that started brightening the darkness of my 'wounded brain': the actions undertaken by pro-life groups and movements. I felt, for the first time in my life, that someone is speaking my voice, the voice I didn't have. I saw how determined these people are, how they are defending life and that their arguments are logical and real. 

The pro-lifers save not only unborn babies, but they also save everyone. 

Guardian Demons

Unaware of what I was really doing, I touched the gist of every mental illness. Only after writing and reading my last post, I saw that this is the fact: we, sick people, had been separated from our own 'self,' that's why I had the impression I live in two separate worlds. 

Every human being should be connected with each part of its own construction: body, mind, soul, memories, emotions... We must become our own owners. But we are not. The core of the existence is like owned by something else: havoc. And the real name of this havoc is LIE. We live far from our own truth. 

I will explain it by using an example. Ten years ago, on a regular day, I was going to work. I met a guy I used to love... And this meeting was the havoc as if some kind of tornado came through my body and mind. I was agitated, desperate, angry, sad, depressed, but also happy and full of hope (just as I was feeling when I met my father...). After that, I came to work and... everything stopped. I crossed the invisible border and found myself in the second world of mine, the 'normal' one. 

There are two things. First, I didn't know then that I had been constantly experiencing the emotions related to my biological father, because they were forbidden, I had to push them deep into my memories and pretend that I don't have them. Second, for over thirty years I was convinced that the world of havoc was something wrong, that I am a big failure since I still have it in my mind. And this is the essence of mental illness - this very lies. 

The same when it comes to my 'right' to live. I was sure I have no right to be alive unless someone else would give such permission. I wasn't wanted and I always knew it. I knew my mother considered me as a 'problem' or a 'burden'; she also was certain she is my owner and she can do whatever she wants with me, with my body, mind, memories, emotions, etc. She, and, later on, other people, became the 'guardian demons' standing on the border of my own 'self', forbidding me the pass. 

And the thing that pisses me off is that most of the so-called therapies and rehabs lead to the addiction to another Guardian Demons - therapists, doctors, family members - instead of showing us that the healing is when becoming free and independent human beings.

Merger

At least a couple of times in my life, I experienced a very extraordinary situation in which I could see that, in fact, I live in two separate worlds that do not merge. One world represents the space in my brain that is responsible for the 'black hole' that leads me to suicidal thoughts. The second one is everything else.
Do you know what exactly is the world number 1? These are those scars on my amygdala made by my parents when I was so little that my brain was like soft wax which they could shape and change. These are the questions I asked and the answer was still wrong. So, in this world, I constantly ask the questions, I recreate the situations from my childhood, with the people who have the set of characteristics my parents had until I won't get the correct answers.
Leaving the world number 1 is impossible - I would have to deny my own self, for this is the core of my 'self' and I cannot simply stop being myself unless I intend to be a lunatic. But staying in this place also seems to be madness.

Well, I didn't leave this world, I just realized that its arrangement is wrong. I ask good questions and I should know the correct answers even if I don't 'feel' them. And I should try to rearrange the place. Both worlds need to be merged somehow. But I still don't know how...

My Books You Can Buy Easily

1. 'The Notes from the Abyss' [e-book] -> just check out this price!

2. 'Guide for (Ultimate) Losers [paperback] -> if you prefer to touch the book

3. 'Guide for (Ultimate) Losers' [e-book] -> just... buy it!

Wrong Assumptions

The wrong assumption is when we assume that the things we experience now will be the same in the future. The most erroneous assumption is when we think that people we are now with will stay with us and will do what they are doing at the moment.

I met many people in my life. But I am not loyal. Not for those who get used to my presence and take it as a certainty. Because, behind that attitude, always comes a lack of respect, indifference... The indifferent people simply have no volition which is the base for love. And love is something that interests me the most. 

Make no mistake, the love doesn't mean someone has feelings towards me - though this is a very important factor. The love means we give to each other things that are necessary at the very moment. Sometimes, even the strongest feelings succumb to very weak will, yet, the people around me tend to think that I won't bother the poor quality of their behavior. Well, it does bother. And I don't have to stay.

Enough is Enough

Despite I am currently going through a huge crisis in my relation to God, I strongly believe that He not so rarely 'helps' me with very hard decisions by creating certain circumstances. Everything seems to go fine and suddenly I meet a big obstacle on my path which I am not able to beat. After weeks or months of fighting and trying to figure out how to jump over the obstacle, I need to stop and think whether I really want to go further, or maybe there is something else I want to do, that was hidden deep in my mind and heart up to this moment. And here starts the most interesting: when I make the decision, the right one of course (God's Will), I can notice the other path in my Maze, the next level, another story to experience and to write about. 

DIY

Speaking of being in euphoric state...

Nowadays, there is no better way to find the reason to be euphoric for a short moment than social media. I didn't understand that until I started promoting myself as a writer... and this still is uneasy to get. Honestly, this is hard case if you really need to bump the statistics and see some measurable results. The euphoria quickly changes into frustration and disaffection, especially when you were taught that you are a living error and especially when you promote the work your shitty publisher doesn't pay you for.

Nevertheless, I do my best, e.g. I design and constantly improve my website:

https://www.rozalewanowicz.com/ 

Work in Progress

No Maze wall will stop me to do this:

Hats, hats, hats, hats,  hats,  hats,  hats,  hats,  hats,  hats,  hats,  hats,  hats,  hats,  hats,  hats,  hats,  hats,  hats,  hats,  hats,  hats,  hats,  hats,  hats,  hats,  hats,  hats,  hats,  hats,  hats,  hats,  hats,  hats, 

The Maze

I had a teacher in the high school, an older lady remembering harsh times of war. She wasn't good for us. She wasn't a good person whatsoever, being constantly focused on her own pain and memories, ignoring the world outside. I know that this opinion may not be welcomed warmly among nuns running the school nor by my classmates. We had been obliged to think (not only talk) about her only in positive way although she had been causing a lot of distress of ours and simply made her lessons unbearable. Bitter woman, complaining all the time and humiliating us at every step we made. She ones  told us - and this was a very rare moment when she was smiling - that, as a sixteen-year-old girl, she dreamed about becoming "a great saint" of Catholic Church and that this dream was very, very strong... 

"Well, I thought, so why didn't you become one, you old crone?! You maybe wouldn't be so bitter and full of wrath."

I now know the reason - she walked into the wall. A high wall which seemed to be an impassable obstacle.

I'm sure you heard countless stories of people who recollect that they dreamed about becoming someone else they are right now but they didn't achieve that for many reasons. However, I think, the problem is we don't understand that the life is not a straight line or a path. It is a Maze in which we must learn how to navigate. When meeting the wall, we sometimes need to get back or chose another direction - right or left. And we should memorise the way: I've already been in this corner, coming back there is pointless etc. 

Yet, what do most of us do? We stay. We dwell at this spot of despair and we settle down there instead of moving on. Or, which is even more stupid, we try to demolish the wall by force.

Recipe For Adulthood

So, I did something crazy.

This thing helped me feel better in my poor condition.

I did this because I know myself and I was sure this should be done.

I, once again, succumbed to love despite everything.

And, foremost, I didn't hurt anyone by that.

I strongly believe that we need to stay coherent with our own philosophy. We should have solid convictions, especially at some stage of our life, and follow them no matter what. This is what adulthood is.

No Surprises

I have had this feeling for some time that nothing will surprise me in my life. And you know what? Nothing surprises me, at all. 

First, I know myself. I can predict most of my reactions in various situations. It's good, I suppose, for this ability helps grown up people with managing their own emotions. For the most part, at least. 

Second, I constantly plan everything upfront. Expenses, actions, career... Unfortunately, I only succeed in things that have the least interesting value for me. 

Seems I became too cautious, too serious, too adult. And this situation doesn't bother me so much as the fact that I didn't get from life what I really wanted. There was no "success". The Success. 

And it won't be. 

Even if I will gain all my goals that look so delicious from the distance, I won't feel the relief. 

And this is the biggest success of my life: understanding the truth from the line above. Any kind of triumph nor luck will not comfort me, though they might taste so good at the beginning. The dark and bitterness will be back, but, this time, there won't be surprise. I simply know they will emerge eventually. 

Does it make of me a bigger loser than I am? 

Or maybe it makes I am no longer the loser?

Humility. Submission to the ultimate truth of who I am which may be closing a door but opening the other one. 

e-Book

Guide For Ultimate Losers 

available on Amazon

Succumbed To Love

Some people say: follow your heart, follow your dreams... It is stupid to have a dull job, 9 to 5, five days a week, in order to have some goods which don't make you happy.

I, as an expert in following and un-following heart and dreams, say: dull jobs are usually very helpful while fulfilling your dreams, simply because you earn the money that is the ticket to something better. (Of course, if you were born in a rich family and you don't have to work, I completely don't understand why you still wait and don't follow your dreams.)

Here is the thing - the love is the most important thing in this world and demands of love can be always met, even by doing a dull job. Because love is something opposite to egoism, so you won't neglect your basic needs nor the needs of people who are depended on you and you won't act childish due to your unfulfilled dream (I recommend watching the movie: "The Glass Castle" with Brie Larsson and Woody Harrelson, it is about people who follow the dreams no matter what it costs).

Follow your heart, but use your brain. 

Take advantage of the power that the feeling to 'wrong person' gives you, but don't get close to that person.

Do crazy things as long as they don't hurt anyone. 

Succumb to love, but don't be deluded and stay aware it will cause a lot of pain. 

F***ing Wrong

So... I am sick. Like... for real. I have been trying to avoid the topic for some time, but you simply cannot omit such thing as your failing body. Though, you try... Especially when you know that the disease will continue taking off your strength and many abilities, and you will never ever be healthy. I feel like I'm losing control and like I am guilty of the situation. 

But there is something I cannot forget about: I have never ever been healthy in my life. I was born sick and the main problem was nobody wanted to treat me or even see the issue. Thus, admitting I am not OK may change a lot, for I can take care of myself now. At least, I can try. 

The second truth about my condition is that I had been sick less every time I was... "crazy". Now, I know that these were the moments when I was really me, but, for most people, I was insane. I heard, not once, that I am deluded because I am acting against a "normal" way of thinking, e.g. I am going to the big, strange city without money, a job and nothing else but the crazy idea that I must go to this city. Well, after ten years, I must say to those people (some of them are dead now): "you were f**ing wrong". 

I realized lately that I need a balance. My madness, disease and common sense must be always considered while making any decision. Because I was indeed deluded thinking that I'm not sick. This was insane and this must stop. And I would be a lunatic if I'd reject the power inside of me every time I am eager to do something really mad. 

Debugging

When I was in the army, I once visited my friend I had been living with in a dorm when we were students. I liked her very much because she was a very nice and gentle girl. It was Christmas break and I could meet her siblings and her mother. This visit helped me understand why this beautiful and smart girl is so insecure and where her countless complexes come from. Her mom was very friendly... towards me but not towards her own daughter. And the daughter had been doing anything she could to please the moody and criticising mother - even neglecting her guest. 

I then saw pure and the most hideous manifestation of jealousy I have ever witnessed in my life (beside my own jealous mother). This woman hated my friend and it was so obvious I was surprised the daughter wasn't aware of that. The woman wasn't a mother, whatsoever! She was a bullie, demotivating her wonderful girl at every step she had been trying to make, insinuating that she is ugly, stupid and lazy. 

I'm recalling this situation, for I realised lately that, for ninety percent of my time, I am not happy just because I am afraid that someone is going to destroy my happiness just for envy. OK, Someone in particular - God. That's right! I was meditating and I found this "glitch" in my "code". If I had to depict this thinking schema, it would show crooked black arms reaching out to me from the dark hole and pulling me down into it. I know it's awkward to think like this about God... but this is how our Faith is weakened by being brought up by... jealous mother who is pulling her child down into the dark hole of despair every time the child wants to be happy. There is huge possibility we would shift our fears onto imagination of God. Thus, I am insecure and I am afraid of any indication of happiness which inevitably would cause the wrath of some "god" who will punish me right away. 

I'm sure you know people around you who constantly are unhappy. Sometimes, it is the matter of character, but, quite often, the person is scared of being content because this means loss of parent's "love". Except, we don't need their love, not anymore. But, for sure, we need friends.

After many years, I refreshed my relationship with this girl. Unfortunately, I couldn't keep it, when I realised that I will never "win" with her mother, still present in her life. I could handle that she had been discussing in details our every conversation with mother - though it wasn't easy for me - but constant changing plans we had been making together when mom had been showing me that personal life and friends of her daughter are not important... that was way too much to handle. 

It's Your Turn

Couple years ago, I lost my job. I got fired and this was enormous disaster for me. Mortgage, bills, problems with my health (depression mainly), constant fight with my publisher (who hadn't been paying me my share)... And, what was the worst and the strangest, absolute lack of response from various companies I was sending my applications to. It was a mystery, something really odd. 

Today, I have my own business and I am a contractor in one fine IT company. Honestly, I cannot complain, especially for countless job offers. Seriously, there are lots of them. Sometimes, I receive three offers a day. Can you imagine?! Shocking! 

So, what's the difference? Why I couldn't find any occupation for four months then, and, now, there are so many? You may assume that the situation on labour market has changed, improved. Well, no! That's not the case, not in IT sector. The thing is, then, I didn't know what I want to do. I didn't specify my career path. Everything changed when I finally decided what kind of work I want to go to, what skills I am going to develop, and, what is very important, what things I won't do. The result was as if someone snapped the fingers and the reality became better. Except, no one did anything with anyone's fingers. It was me who made the choice, I took the responsibility for my future and I hadn't been waiting till other people will help or decide for me. 

This applies to every single sphere of life, even buying a coat for new season, believe me. I had been escaping from defining my future actions for most of my life. I was too scared because I was taught that MY decisions are always wrong, that I cannot do anything valuable, that I am egoistic... Thus, as almost forty-years-old woman, I am starting to express my own will concerning my own future. I am walking out of darkness I had been living in. 

Let's Talk About... You

Let's talk about motivation. Again.

First, I'm afraid I am going to lose the factor that motivates me now. Seriously scared, really. So, I am motivated to fight for the motivation to stay with me, no matter what (as long as my actions don't hurt anyone).

Second, the motivation makes I change, I seek for being altered, becoming better person... I see things I didn't want to see before. I am much more brave and determined.

Third, I am quite convinced that I have no much choice when it comes about things that motivate me during my life. They come directly from the biggest scars in my heart, and I cannot either ignore or erase them. They define me, they are part of my personality, and, by declining them, I would decline myself (which is nothing but base for auto-agressive diseases, both mental and somatic and who wants to be sick?).

Fourth, I need to be prepared for ultimate lost of the motivation, for the big break when I inevitably will break... down. But, you know, life goes on etc., etc. Yeah... We'll see.

Something I Can Never Have

There are two big couches in one of my favorite cafes in Warsaw. One is situated against the other, so if you will come with more people you can spend nice moments there at coffee, cake or sandwiches. But on last Sunday, there was a middle-aged couple sitting on one couch, and a young mom with a very little toddler sitting on the other couch. The couple was reading magazine and surfing in the internet but, as soon as the little boy woke up and started spreading his charm around himself, the woman jumped up from her place, and demanded changing the spot. The man, her husband I guess, looked confused, for he didn't understand why they would do so, since the couch was so nice and comfortable. 

"It's too hot in this sun" - she replied and grabbed all her belongings. 

No, it wasn't too hot because of the sun. One glimpse on her face let me recognise the problem. She couldn't stand the view of the child. She couldn't stand the fact that someone has something she doesn't have... 

Oh, I know the feeling!

We very often think and feel that we are not loved when we don't have the things we crave the most for. We are hurt to the bone. We suffer excruciating pain... For "being-not-loved" is the worst thing that can happen to us... 

Yes, as long as we are children of stupid parents who don't understand that being a parent (or a carer responsible for other life) means constant giving without guarantee of receiving anything back. The "goods" children want are, in most cases, something they need, hence they crave for love:

closeness, 

presence, 

conversation, 

acceptance, 

even if what they feel or do seems inappropriate.

If they don't get it, they are hurt and suffer an excruciating pain... Then, as grown up persons, they cannot stand when they don't receive what they want, and their pain is real and unbearable. And there is no understanding for what they feel. They are sometimes diagnosed as narcissistic personalities, they are bitter and depressed.  

The worst side effect of being deprived of parents' love is lack of an ability to differ what we NEED from what we WANT. 

Last(ing) Love

As I mentioned once, I had been doing various things during my life just because I loved somebody. To be more precise: I came to Warsaw ten years ago because I loved one guy; I wrote my first book (in fact, it was a manual for UAV users) because I loved... the Prince (yeah, THE Prince I had been writing about so many times at this very blog). Thus, I am not afraid of any "inappropriate" feelings. But when I made a resume of my real successes, I realised that most of them were possible thanks to motivation I was taking from loving someone else. Honestly, I'm shocked how this feeling impacted me, even in professional sphere. Yes, having a good job is one of most visible benefits I may experience every day...

So, as the Gospel says, "You will be able to tell them by their fruits" [Matthew 7,16] and, since there are so many fruits and they are so sweet, I had to rethink everything I have been thinking about this... situation. And it's interesting, for I had been concerning it as a huge mistake, which wasn't weird after previous awful stories. Meanwhile, it turned out, this is something that have kept me in vertical for last couple of years. The huge mistake became a huge surprise. 

To be continued... (I hope)

Non-Artificial Intelligence

In order to live a real life, we need one thing: a purpose. A meaning for everything we do. I mentioned in one or two posts on this blog that, for last couple of years, I have been feeling that I am losing my motivation, for I've been freeing myself from old schemas of thinking imprinted in the process of incorrect upbringing. I have been torn between well known path of "dealing" with  the problems and something completely new, what seemed to be so scary as if I was looking to the abyss. I didn't see my purpose. And meaningless life is the worst scenario for everyone. 

I discovered an interesting thing: every goal to be achieved, every stage to be closed and every small step I need to make are already in me and nowhere else. They are hidden deep in the dark, like paths of code written down for an intelligent machine. But they are overwritten by bad deeds of my parents and of my own wrong choices. So I can either follow commands of this damaged code or make an effort and get to the source code written by the Author who doesn't want the meaningless life for me.

How to reach access to the Source Code of mine? By trusting. By being peaceful. By being patient. By being focused. By loving and respecting myself. By following my heart.

Moving Out, Moving In, Moving On

Finally, after long seven years of waiting (being too poor), I flew to the vacation. Believe me or not, spending two weeks in some nice resort in Polish mountains or at the seashore still is too expensive for my thin wallet, so I had to choose a cheaper option - Canary Islands. 

Eight years ago, I had been spending a short vacation on Fuerteventura with one day on Lanzarote where I am now, repairing my emotional and physical condition. And, what is very interesting, where I want to move. 

Yep, I suddenly saw a need to change the place I live in. And it is not a whim or something that occurred couple days ago. No! This very idea showed up last year and the feeling that I should do so was really strong. My approach to it however is very careful. From my experience, every changes - especially those crazy ones - should be conducted after a very long consideration. But... not too long. Because, if this indeed is something that comes from my heart, I need to act decisively, whit a head on my neck and right away.

The Core

The worst nightmare you had? Do you remember?
Mine was terrifying.
I was sitting in a room and I realized there was someone else sitting in front of me. I looked up there and I saw... myself. It was me, but not me I knew. It was the person I had been scared of for most part of my life. The core of me. First, I froze. Then, I wanted to say something to me, to calm down the person I see. But she attacked me fiercely.

It took me at least five years to understand the meaning of the dream. I had to go down deeply into myself. How did I do it? I suffered. I was tormented. I was left alone by everyone. I had depression. I was hungry. And every time I experienced any kind of distress, I had been turning to God, reproaching, grieving, crying... But He wasn't keen to talk back. In fact, He was very quiet until His voice silenced for good.

I understood.
The person I need to talk to is the woman from my nightmare because the stage of becoming independent human being wasn't closed. Me as me was rejected by my mother. I had to develop some other personality, to wear masks, to be someone else in order to earn somebody's love... But love means acceptance for who I really am.

Now, I cannot expect this very acceptance from others. The only person who can do that is me.

Princess Diana and Princess Marilyn

If you were not loved by your parents and by nobody else whatsoever, but, unfortunatelly, you are pretty or sexy girl and, later on, a smart woman, you learn very quickly that your beauty and sex appeal may buy you a "love", which, in fact, is only some kind of attention and admiration. 

Undoubtely, either late Diana Spencer nor Marilyn Monroe had loving parents and carers as a little girls. They were not wanted, always rejected, not good enough... Reading their biographies made my heart bleed in excruciating pain. But it took me some time to realise that both of them were 36-years-old when they died tragicly. And only when I turned 36, I fully understood their situation. 

This age is very special for women. The body changes rapidly. The face is no longer so shiny and fresh. It is hard to sustain proper weight. And the mind, much more bright than before, starts to realise that past is past and the ageing cannot be stoped. Well, for "normal" woman, who has all stages of her psychological developement closed, this is the time of new prospects. She may feel sad looking at the mirror and not seeing that smooth and nice face, but she has so much more reasons to live longer - family, children, friends, career, glass of wine in the evening, favourite TV series etc. But, for us, the "sweet dolls", "little princesess" this is the end of everything, unless... we, by some miracle, become "aware" princesses. 

In case of Diana and Marilyn, the miracle didn't happen. The lines of their lives - filled with drugs overuse, eating disorders, believing in superstitions and nonsenses read from the tarot - had been leading straight to the doomed end. 

Marilyn's real name was Norma. And if you take a glimpse of the pictures taken while she was very young, you will see a normal looking girl. Eccept she wasn't loved. She used her sharp mind (she was very smart) to draw the attention of other people. "Boobs and butt" instead of intelligence and modesty. Platin blonde hair and a perl-white smile instead of a gentle look and a simple hairstyle. 

The people "bought" it, yet the pain had been intensifying. Norma didn't feel the love the fans all over the world showed her... 

Reading biography of Diana, written by Andrew Morton, was one of the less pleasant experiences in my life. Nobody cared of this girl. From the very beginning, she was a huge disapointment, only because she wasn't a boy (what is interesting, one of her sons was the same disapointment for not being a girl). When she had been marrying Charles, she practically was a child and I am fully convinced she remained the child till her demise. 

And she had been "selling" some kind of fake picture of herself, too. Full of contradictions, always knew how to make people's hearts beat faster. Innocent gaze under golden fringe, silent voice, proper pose and, at the same time, countless affairs (or just gossips about them), controversial moves, interviews set up with the press she supposedely hated so much... She hid herself behind charity work - which provided the most of people's admiration - so the pain seemed to be fading. Her last days were filled with constant work and her life was much too fast...

So about me... I am no longer pretty. The sweet doll disappeared. I am overweight and a little bit clumsy. My legs and arms look like fat sausages and I'm constantly tired. I look like normal woman, almost 40-years-old. Naturally, I felt an excruciating pain, since I've lost the things I was buying people's admiration and attention with. Yet, I am alive. I have prospects, I've just received an offer of  a good job, my next novels are to be printed... The pain didn't fade, but the awareness is keeping me in vertical. And there is something much more important - Faith. 

I am not against the charity work neither against career in show business, but I think that in God's intention our personal good is much more important, for:

"What, then, will anyone gain by winning the whole world and forfeiting his life? Or what can anyone offer in exchange for his life?" [Matthew, 16,26]