Yesterday, I’d been working for hours but started to notice a bit of mental exhaustion. As a part of learning how to show up for myself, I strive to listen to my body *as soon* as I feel discomfort (rather than waiting until it’s unbearable). So, I went to transition to something else…
I sat, the tension in my body rising. I stared at the screen of my computer, mentally scrolling through ideas, manically attempting to break the spell. And yet, the more I struggled, the more trapped I felt. Anxiety started to slide into panic.
Getting frustrated, I decided to try getting the inner conversation out and in front of me.
I opened my ‘notes’ app and began to stream all the thoughts as they came. The usual suspects immediately popped up, busily attempting to be noticed. Bored of the same old terrorizing thoughts, I kept going.
A lightbulb finally went off and I asked the question, “What is the fear saying?” as I mentally invited Fear to speak.
It first spoke from my body:
“Tension.” “Ache.” “Afraid.”
“If we don’t get this figured out, we are at fault for everything.”
I almost couldn’t write it out. It felt ridiculous. But I made an agreement to listen, so I finished the sentence.
And then I sat staring at it.
I couldn’t decide if I wanted to cry or laugh. It did still seem absurd, and I could feel some part of me really believed it.
And this is what rolled out, right after:
“So doesn’t that mean that some part believes that we are unworthy at the core?
I didn’t do anything to deserve being abused or neglected or manipulated or hurt. There’s nothing more I could’ve done to release myself from the situation.
I deserved a childhood. I deserved a start of goodness and love and health and understanding. Nothing I did led to not receiving this.
So, who am I trying to prove my worth to? Who do I need to be worthy for right now? Who deserves my healing any more than I FUCKING DO?! Who do I think I owe it to?
Why am I torturing myself trying to be worthy of something that I’ve been worthy of all along? Why am I making it worse for myself now? Haven’t I paid a high enough price already? Haven’t I been through enough??? When will my tension and hard work and stress and fear be enough currency to pay for my wellbeing?
I nearly wept re-reading it.
I’ve always seen my Fear as a monster, perpetually stalking me - or a cage, bent on keeping me trapped. Now I can see that she’s been a lonely yet unrelenting friend. She’s been pounding on the door, not with the intent to frighten, but hoping to guide me to my deepest grief.