Monday, June 15, 2015
Friday, June 12, 2015
I explained how I feel and presented the evidence that I am cursed to a friend recently. She suggested a little divination. She offered to do a reading for me but I feel like I need to do a reading for myself. My friend loves me very much and I am concerned that she might pull some punches and not share the intensity of some of what she sees. Also, I can consider the cards at a level of intimacy that she is incapable of simply because she cannot crawl inside my brain and heart. Of course, that provides her with an objectivity that I am incapable of achieving because I cannot crawl out of my head and heart. I might still take her up on her offer to read for me for that reason.
I did a little research and found a spread that looks like it will be helpful. The original spread and full instructions are at the Texas Hoodoo website (http://texas-hoodoo.com/divination/jinxed-curse-hexed-spread).
he is looking out at me. She sees me and knows my plight. IV The Emperor appears initially to be looking forward, at me or at his subjects, but he's actually looking out of the corners of his eyes at III The Empress. He's looking to her for guidance. He cannot do his job alone. Considering these things and the closeness of their relationship, I would say that IV The Emperor is helping me with careful attention to the guidance and advice of III The Empress. I have one final observation about III The Empress and IV The Emperor. Aside from XV The Devil who represents the curse itself, they are the only Major Arcana cards in the spread. They are the heavy hitters and, fortunately, they are on my side.
The women in the spread appear only in the bottom. The Page may be a boy or a girl but will be a youth either way and can not be a mature woman.
Intuition plays a role in reading tarot cards and it led me to impression that IV The Emperor represents a Greek God. Which one, though? These cards are not created around the Greek pantheon so I went in search of a deck that is. I found The Mythic Tarot. Matching my cards to the corresponding card in the Mythic Tarot deck indicated that IV The Emperor represents Zeus and III The Empress represents Demeter, both of whom I have strong connections to. The correlations rang true. I am certain that they are on my side in this.
The remaining cards, being Court cards and not Major Arcana cards, leads me to the conclusion that they represent regular people. Other than that, who they represent still eludes me.
Monday, June 8, 2015
The human brain tends to remember the negative experiences of life. I'm pretty sure it's an evolutionary trait that helped us survive by reminding us of things, places, activities, etc that put us in unhealthy or dangerous situations. It's a good idea that, at least in my case, has gone awry. It acts with an intensity that can be paralyzing.
The negatives cling to me like parasites and leave little to no room for positives. I have a terrible time finding the positives and, when I do, keeping the positives in mind is just as hard. It adds up to feeling like I'm cursed. The extent of that cursed feeling waxes and wanes with my moods. Recognizing that correlation to my mood has been helpful in the sense that I'm better equipped to wait out the feeling but it does nothing the reduce the pain, anxiety, and sense of helplessness that comes along with it. Family and friends criticize me for being pessimistic or defeatist. Saying things like, "It could be worse," is not helpful. I continue to feel what I feel and a certain guilt for feeling that way is added to the emotional burden I already carry.
The other day, a valuable lesson I learned in a class I took a million years ago popped into my head. The context of the original lesson was completely different from my current situation so I never thought to use it in my battle against my curse before. The mind is resilient but that characteristic must be nurtured, it must be fed. Feeding it a diet primarily consisting of negatives kills it. It must be given plenty of positives. One positive for each negative is insufficient, though. It makes for a malnourished resiliency, one that's sick and leaves a person at risk of giving up. Because of this and the fact that critiquing each other was a significant part of the class, the teacher established an important rule. Before someone could offer up a criticism, they had to provide three compliments.
This provided me with a technique, a new weapon to wield against the darkness. I am forcing myself to find at least two positives that are directly related to the negative situation feeding the cursed feeling. A recent example is when the transmission went out on my vehicle. Positive 1) The vehicle rolled to a stop in a location safe from traffic and from being impounded. Positive 2) Someone near and dear to me was willing and able to tow it to the shop for me.
My curse is a little more intense than that. It involves a large number of things going wrong all in a small window of time. The transmission was just one of them. Looking at each problem, each thing that's gone wrong, and finding a couple of elements in each situation that worked to my advantage is time consuming. Hopefully it will be worth time.
Saturday, August 16, 2014
While working through my quest I got stuck. It's my own fault, too. I was faced with a challenge and didn't do it. I haven't done it yet. I started to but it was uncomfortable so I set it aside with the intention of returning to it the next day. I did return to it but I didn't do anything about it beyond rereading the description of what I was supposed to do. What did I get stuck on, you ask? It's silly, really. All I needed to do was write a journal entry answering this question:
See what I mean? It's simple. Yet, it's so complex. Formulating a reply has been troublesome and it's been weighing on me.
|Source: Get Out of Your Comfort Zone|
My comfort zone is always changing. It varies with my mood - how manic or depressed I am or if I'm neither. My level of anxiety plays a big role in defining what I enjoy doing or what I'm willing to try. Likewise it determines what completely freaks me out, it draws that proverbial line in the sand which I cannot cross. What feels impossible for me one week is second nature the next and vice versa.
|Source: Clinical Junior.com|
So, today? At this moment? I feel good about myself. I believe I'm good at my job and I enjoy it. I feel good about my relationships with family and friends. Calling my best friend is not a stretch today even though the same activity yesterday was distressing and I couldn't bring myself to do it. I feel like I have something worth sharing on my blog and I'm able to adequately answer the Superbetter question.
Will I feel the same tomorrow? Who knows.
Wednesday, July 30, 2014
Sunday, July 20, 2014
|Visual prompt for this weeks FSF Challenge.|
I laughed, sang, and twirled in his arms to music that existed only in my mind as we approached the arched tunnel through a stone pedestrian bridge which stretched across the road we sloshed along.
I saw bewilderment on his face and a touch of fear in his eyes as I loosed my fingers from around his hand and shoved him back into the downpour we just left and then I rushed through the enchanted veil of rain which promised to free me from my madness.
Saturday, July 19, 2014
I think I manage the anxiety I experience rather well. Most days I can keep my darker emotions from ganging up on me and I've done a great job of successfully beating them off. There is a certain threshold, though. Somber turns to despair and I feel defeated, crushed beneath the weight of my own sick brain. Grumpy morphs into a full blown rage and the catalyst will be something ridiculous. Discomfort becomes humiliation and shame as my brain brings to the forefront of my conscious mind everything it believes I've ever done wrong. What happens beyond the threshold is not anything I'm proud of.
I scratch and cut myself. It makes sense to me in the moment. I've done it enough throughout my life that I no longer carry sharp things with me when I feel the stable ground beneath me tremble, a sign that a terrible fissure threatens to open under my feet. Leaving the pocket knife at home interferes with my attempts to cut myself. Most of the time, the appeal of cutting fades away before I can gain possession of an object capable of drawing blood. Sometimes cutting is so terribly seductive that, unable to access anything sharper, I resort to using my fingernails. They don't cut per se; they scratch well, though. They become claws that scrape at the skin of my thighs in moments of desperation.