Welcome to my blog.

My blog expresses my views and thoughts and in no way intends to offend however that does not guarantee it wont.

I write in a stream of consciousness and sometimes the odd typo or bad grammar may appear - please excuse these.

Please feel free to leave a comment if something inspires you to do so.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Getting Better Every Day

I am happy to report that I have had a fairly pain free weekend. Last night hubby and I went to Dralion and the seating was not wonderfully wide and I had a very large man sit next to me for the second half which was not comfortable for either of us and by the end of the show my shoulder and hip were really sore. So much so we ended up not going to a friend's birthday party which was on and we had hoped to managed after the show. So when I went to bed last night I was worried about how I would sleep but did not take any pain killers. I slept really well. I am now back in the spare bed and having the extra room gives me space to really get into a position that suits my body. I miss having my lovely husband in bed with me, but it is a sacrifice we are both happy with if it means I can get better. If our bedroom was big enough for a king size bed we would be okay, but a queen is all we can fit in there.

Today I have had little pain at all, although my shoulder is a little tender now, but nothing compared to how it has been.

So I am hoping that Simon's work with me is clearing my meridians and allowing me to become pain free. I am also having weekly full back massage for the next 6 weeks to try and loosen my muscles so that they can work in combination with Simon's kinesiology.

My doctor put me on a course of stronger pain meds and anti-inflammatories but I have resisted going to the chemist and filling the scripts as I want to see what happens without resorting to more chemicals in my body. I'm not sure how she will react to all this as I haven't told her what I am doing, but it is my body and I really have to try.

So fingers crossed I continue down this path. There maybe some minor detours back to pain like last week as my body and mind fights to go back to the ways it has lived, but I am moving forward and that can only be a good thing. My hubby has also been home all this week and I think just having him here soothes my spirit, he is back on the Adelaide jaunts again from tomorrow and it will just be me and the cat until Thursday night, but I will cope.

Thank you to all my friends who have been so supportive recently, your prayers and thoughts really boost my spirit - a special thank you to my work sister - twins we are indeed.

Friday, February 20, 2009

A Complicated Woman

Today I got told I was a complicated case - Simon has never before had someone like me present themselves to his clinic - someone with frozen accu-points within other frozen accu-points. Never before has Simon had someone present with as many blocked meridians and with a repressed adrenal gland and pituitary gland. He said I was uncommon and obviously with my now weekly massage and fortnightly kinesiology appointments I won't be cheap either. Still as I said to my hubby isn't it better to have an uncommon and expensive wife rather than a common and cheap one!

But really I am not surprised at all by what Simon has said. As I mentioned in a previous post I have many things buried deep within my soul. I lie to myself and say I have dealt with them, but the reality is I have buried them so deep I think they are gone - well in my head anyway. My heart always tells me they are there.

That is why I am finding blogging a way to release some of what I have hidden. Unfortunately there are things I won't post here because to do so may hurt some of the people who follow my blog. And causing someone I love pain is not something I can intentionally do. I know that I most probably do cause unintentional pain to my loved ones as we all do that but I can't write all I want to on a public blog because I know that some of it will hurt others. I have thought about starting a private one as well and not letting anyone have access to it, that way I wouldn't have to censor what I write but I'm not sure if that would help as isn't that just hiding again. I will have to dwell on that one for an answer.

Who would have thought that hanging on to all the hurt in my life would have made me continue to hurt myself without even knowing it. I once said many years ago when one of my work colleagues told me she didn't know how I coped with all that was going on in my life that I was too frightened to cry as some days I felt that if I started crying I wouldn't be able to stop. And so I controlled myself every day rather than scream and fall into a heap - my family needed me to be strong and there for them. Maybe that is why I sometimes have the odd tear fall from my eyes when I least expect it - they are still there stored up just waiting to be shed. And that scares me more than anything else in my life. I just can't let all those tears escape so I will continue to cry at sad movies and the bad news that I hear and see on TV because each of those tears lessens the ones I am holding onto.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Foreboding and Fear

Sometimes as I lay in bed I have a strong sense of foreboding and I start to dwell on my death. I have many strikes against me living a long life - diabetes, weight, menopause although I also have a strong family history of women not dying of heart disease.

But late a night when I wake with cramps - last night in both legs - that leave me with tingling legs and back and an increased heart rate, I lay there and feel that death is perhaps not that far away. Sometimes my whole body tingles and I feel tightness in my chest and I find myself hyperventilating - and I know that it is fear rather than a heart attack that has taken hold as there have been late night dashes to the hospital early on before I knew what was causing these panic attacks.

Why is it that fear controls my life? To the outside world I have little to fear and yet here it is somewhere deep inside me.

Is it fear of being who I really am, after all I went from being someone's child to someone's wife and someone's mother all by the time I was 17. I never had 'me' time as an adult so to speak and while I wouldn't change the path of my life is fear now here because I have the space to really be me and I don't know how to?

In some ways I embrace fear in the things I surround myself with. I love to read books filled with fear and my television watching survey would reveal I watch shows and movies filled with fear. Light and happy books just don't grab me, neither do shows like Packed to the Rafters and the like. Give me gritty shows like Criminal Minds or Bones that explore the dark side. Let me read books by Stephen King and Dean Koontz, books that explore the horror and randomness of life. They are the genres I love. Why is it that I don't like sweetness and light.

I am even fearful of good things like losing weight, all I can see is the loose skin that will remain and the plastic surgery to remove it as the outcome - not that I will weigh less and feel better. The same with my diabetes, my Mum says I am in denial - but I am not, it is just that all I see is another thing that is trying to control my life and I won't allow it too and so if I don't acknowledge its place in my life it can't control me.

And yet I say I want to live free of fear, I want to live free of pain - but do I then sabotage myself? If I was honest I would have to say yes.

So is my foreboding really a wake up call and are my thoughts of dying young a warning rather than something that may be set in stone. If only I could convince myself to take the first steps towards freedom, I see others doing so and applaud them so why is it that I can't allow myself to do so. What am I afraid of finding?

Monday, February 16, 2009

I'd Like You To Meet My Therapist

May I introduce you to my therapist - 'menopausal mumma' is her name.

The other night my son in law, who incidentally has been staying with us for a couple of weeks while he and my daughter and grand-daughter find a house, was walking past and saw I was on the computer. I was posting my Chocolate blog, he asked what I was doing and so I told him. His comment was "I think you need a therapist!". He said this in a fun, joking way so no offense was taken.

The thing is that this blog is like my therapist and the best part is it is free.

Here I can say what I like, within reason as I wouldn't truly like to offend anyone, but I can freely write about how I feel and I find the posts I write about my pain and such actually give me a sense of relief. I don't always want to admit to others how I really feel, and while I know now that some people are actually reading this blog, it still feels in some ways as if I am doing it anonymously.

I suppose to that the feedback I receive in the way of comments is also a soul-boosting event for me. I welcome the fact that someone takes the time to read and comment.

So I feel that I will continue to use my therapist for some time to come.

Sunday, February 15, 2009

Falling Back Into Old Habits

Earlier I posted that I was going to have a session of kinesiology and that I hoped that it would ease my pain. Well for a day to two it did, then it came back with a vengeance. Now this got me wondering.

If I have been holding onto fear for 53 years, could I in 1 session lose that fear or would my body and brain fight to get it back? After all it had built its existence on having fear inside.

Does my body really want to live without pain, after all it has gotten used to having that in its life too.

Is part of the reason I am having trouble because I am so emotionally exhausted? Do I need to be at my full capacity to allow myself to heal?

Am I in fact my worst enemy? I really don't know, but I do know that I can no longer cope with this much pain. Last night I was walking laps of my back garden at 3 am trying to get rid of the cramping in my left foot. Then I had to sit up in a chair with my shoe on and my foot flat on the floor to keep it from returning until 4.30 am when I staggered back to bed.

Part of the issues with DISH is that when you get bone calcification on each end of a ligament or tendon the tendon or ligament tightens, hence I suppose it is more prone to cramp. My massage therapist commented last Tuesday just how tight my calf muscles and Achilles tendon were. She proceed to massage them which was extremely painful. So it seems even getting better cause me pain.

I am a strong woman and I know that I will continue to cope with this, there is no other option apart from death and I am not ready to die yet. It is just that at this point it all seems too hard.

Waking every morning feeling just as tired as when I went to bed, struggling to get up and move, having trouble doing simple things like putting on my own bra and getting dressed seem wrong for a woman my age and what does the future hold, more of the same?

Hence my search for help, I know there is no cure for DISH or osteo-arthritis but something must be out there that can help reduce the pain apart from stronger painkillers - I am not ready for morphine yet.

So I will have more sessions with Simon and continue to have weekly massage. I will try to recharge my batteries so that I am better able to heal. I will remain positive and I will above all else keep smiling.

Saturday, February 14, 2009


Oh how I love my chocolate ... just plain Cadburys is best

Oh how I love my chocolate ... in Easter eggs and all the rest

Oh how I love my chocolate ... warm and in a drink

Oh how I love my chocolate ... I don't really need to think

Oh how I love my chocolate ... as it melts upon my lips

Oh how I love my chocolate ... forever on my hips

Oh how I love my chocolate ... a timtam slams a treat

Oh how I love my chocolate ... it curls the toes upon my feet

Oh how I love my chocolate ... room temperature is best

Oh how I love my chocolate ... forget about the rest

Oh how I love my chocolate ... it makes my endorphins zing

Oh how I love my chocolate ... it makes me want to sing

Oh how I love my chocolate ... it really needs to stop

Oh how I love my chocolate ... please keep it at the shop

Wednesday, February 11, 2009


Why is it that whenever people start to show the good side of human nature like the generosity that is being shown to the victims of the Victorian bush fires that the evil side of humanity shows its face.

Looters belong in the same category as arsonists - sometimes I wish I had a gun. I'm not a violent person, in fact I hate any sort of violence, but right now if I lived in Victoria and I had a gun and I saw someone lighting a fire or looting the house of one of the victims I would shoot them and willingly stand trial and serve my time for murder. They are the lowest of the low and a scourge on all that is good. May they be found and have the full force of the law thrown at them, they do not deserve an ounce of compassion as it is obvious they don't know the meaning of the word.

Monday, February 9, 2009

A Mixture of Feelings and Emotions

Devastated is how I felt watching and hearing the news of all the people who have lost their lives and homes and possessions. Devastated is what the countryside looks like ... just burnt earth and blackened trees. Tears of sorrow falling from my eyes for people I don't know but who did not deserve to die this way.

Angry is how I feel knowing that some of these fires have been started by arsonists, twisted people with a fetish for fire ... let them burn in hell I say.

Proud is how I feel seeing the Australian spirit rallying behind those that have lost so much.

Admiration is what I feel for those fire fighters, risking all to save others, and often losing their own in the process.

Respect is what I feel for those people who have to go through the rubble to find and identify the bodies.

Sadness is what I feel for those who were evacuated only to return to nothingness.

Hopelessness is how I feel, for I am so far away and there is little I can do except donate to Red Cross.

Empathy is what I have for those who go to bed tonight ... without someone in their lives - lost to fire ... without a home to return to ... with only the clothes on their back ... to those that continue to fight the fires without rest for days on end.

Hope is what I feel - hope that those that survived are uplifted by the thoughts and prayers of so many strangers who have watched in disbelief as these fires thundered through Victoria like a freight train from hell.

Love is what I send and may in some way it make its way across Australia and into the hearts of those that need it most.

Sunday, February 8, 2009


Isn't it strange that you can be lonely when surrounded by people. Sometimes my soul is lonely, I don't know why and maybe it is not so much that it is lonely but that it is sad. Sad that my hubby has to go away again tomorrow and won't be back until Thursday night. He has been working away every week in Adelaide for over six months, and the only time he has been here for more than a weekend was when his Mum died and over Christmas and when we had 2 weeks holiday together in November.

I miss the little things when he is away ... the way he gives me kisses for no reason, the way he comes and strokes my hair as he walks past when I am watching TV, the cups of tea he makes for me, the way he rubs my back when it hurts (even though he doesn't know how to massage the warmth of the rubbing helps) ... it's the little things I miss.

And so here I am today surrounded by people I love including my adorable nearly 1 year old grand-daughter and yet my soul feels lonely and a little sad because tomorrow he will be gone again. I hope he knows just how much I love and miss him. I try not to tell him how much I miss him because I know that will make him sad too and because he has suffered from depression in the past I don't want to make him sad. It is just that I love him soo much and I don't feel whole when he is not around.

Saturday, February 7, 2009

Am I Adopted? Part 2 - the Full Story

My Mother’s Journey - an article I wrote for Western Ancestor (Sorry this is rather long but hopefully you may find it interesting, particularly if you are ever thinking of starting your own family tree - maybe you can learn some lessons from reading this about the pitfalls you can find along the way).

It’s the late 1980s, I’m in my early thirties, married with four children, and I think I know everything about my family and therefore myself. Then my Mum tells me that she was adopted! How could that be? Why would she wait that long to tell me? Did she only just find out herself?

Mum explains that she has known since childhood and had kept the secret, as it was important to my Grandma, her adopted mother. After I had taken all this in, Mum told me she was thinking about finding out about her birth family. She assured me it wasn’t that she was unhappy with her life, as she had been lucky to have loving adopted parents and to have had a happy childhood. However, somewhere deep inside she had always wondered about where she came from, she also felt any knowledge she gained of medical conditions could, perhaps, help her own family. Mum had made the decision to embark on the journey to find her roots and she wanted me to join her. After all, the time was right - both her adopted parents were deceased and she felt free to undertake this search without upsetting the two wonderful people who had meant so much to her. Thus began Mum’s journey to find her heritage.

While many people start tracing their genealogy knowing lots about their families, Mum started with nothing but the official Order of Adoption that gave her name as Peggy A and the names of her adopted parents. (To protect the identity of people in this story I will only use initials for surnames where possible).

Mum could only undertake the first part of her journey alone, albeit with her family’s support. She had to register with Jigsaw, then be counselled by the Department of Community Services, and then apply for non-identifying information. They were able to tell Mum that she was born on 2.1.1932 at Hillcrest Hospital, North Fremantle, that her birth mother was single, West Australian and 21 years of age. Mum then had to apply to have her adoption records opened and her original birth certificate issued. This took time but eventually the certificate arrived and gave her birth mother’s name (Evelyn A), but not that of her birth father.

Once armed with Evelyn’s name the search was on. Mum decided she would obtain a copy of Evelyn’s birth certificate and, having a rough idea of when Evelyn had been born, she paid for a search of the WA BMD Birth Index. In due course this certificate arrived and gave us her parent’s names.

Having being told as a child that her birth mother had died young, Mum checked burial records at Karrakatta and Fremantle. Imagine her consternation when there was no record of Evelyn being buried at either of these cemeteries. She did however find the records of Evelyn’s parents (Robert and Eda) at Karrakatta and subsequently visited their graves.

So we had a mystery to solve, could Evelyn have gotten married before she died? Mum paid for a Marriage Index search in WA from 1933 to 1943, but still no luck. Rather than give up, Mum paid for one last search and she got a hit in March 1946. Now armed with Evelyn’s married name it was back to searching the cemetery records as Mum was convinced that Evelyn had died. After still failing to find any burial records, Mum came to the realisation that maybe Evelyn wasn’t dead after all! So it was time to search the electoral roles. Imagine Mum’s surprise to find out that not only was Evelyn indeed alive but that they had been living only about a kilometre apart for approximately two years (1988-1990).

This information was then handed over to Jigsaw, as the agreement was that they would be the mediators who would try and arrange a meeting. After the excitement of finding Evelyn alive and holding onto hope that they would meet, my Mum then faced the disappointment of being told that Evelyn had said no. I must say in Evelyn’s defence that she had lived with this secret for 60 odd years. It must have been a shock for her to find out that Mum had traced her whereabouts and wanted to see her. We found out from Jigsaw that Evelyn was now widowed and living in a nursing home (only about 5 kilometres from Mum) and that she was concerned about what her family would think, as only her parents had ever known about her pregnancy. This was hard for us to understand but we could do little but respect her wishes.

However, through perseverance on Mum’s part, and help from Jigsaw, Evelyn agreed that Mum could write, and so they started having occasional contact through letters. Then one day Evelyn agreed that Mum could ring her. I can only imagine how hard it must have been for Mum and for Evelyn to make this first voice contact. They spoke sporadically by phone until the last year of Evelyn’s life. Evelyn had been diagnosed with ovarian cancer, and it was after this that their phone calls became more frequent. But, even when dying, Evelyn still couldn’t bring herself to meet Mum. This was a very hard time for Mum, as her desire to meet Evelyn was strong, but she respected Evelyn’s wishes. Mum did however contact the Matron at the nursing home and explained her situation. She asked to be kept informed if Evelyn’s condition deteriorated, as there was no other way of knowing when Evelyn died. The Matron was wonderful and sent Mum a photo she specifically took of Evelyn sitting in her room. It is uncanny how much Evelyn and Mum looked alike. Evelyn died on 31st August 1996, and her cremation service was held on the same day that her great-great-granddaughter (my granddaughter) was born; an event she knew was imminent and seemed very pleased about.

It was from these letters and phone calls that Mum learnt that Evelyn had never had any other children. How she fell in love, became pregnant and then was abandoned. How she had wished to keep the child and had her mother’s support but that her father had forbidden it. Evelyn never told Mum why he was so adamant, but I wonder if it was because he was a police officer of some standing, and it wouldn’t sit well if he had an unmarried daughter with an illegitimate child on the way. Evelyn was sent to Hillcrest Hospital for the term of her pregnancy. In the first letter that Evelyn wrote, Mum found out that Evelyn’s mother had asked that the baby girl be named Peggy. A name, which Mum changed to Margaret by deed poll in 1943. I wonder if she would have done so if she had known that her birth grandmother had given this name to her. After Mum’s birth, Evelyn returned to her family of sisters and brothers with none of them being any the wiser. We are not even sure that Evelyn told her husband John. This was a secret she took to her grave.

After Evelyn’s death, Mum could have given up, after all she had found out where she came from, but she wanted more. The genealogy bug had certainly bitten. Slowly she began to piece together more about her birth mother’s family. She obtained the death certificates of both of Evelyn’s parents. These listed where Robert and Eda had been born, the names of their parents and Robert and Eda’s children and their ages. It gave us a starting point in moving back one generation. Although, it should be said, that we later found that a lot of this information was wrong. For example, on Robert’s death certificate his mother was given as Mary Jane – her name was in fact Jane Margaret - and her maiden name was listed as Larsen, which is actually the correct maiden surname of Robert’s wife mother. Not only that, but Robert’s father was given as Robert, when in fact his name was Stephen. Then on Eda’s death certificate we had the wrong father’s name - he was given as Edwin Schultz - which was in fact, the name of her step-father, who to make matters worse was also know as Bruno! Eda’s mother was given as Marie Christine but her maiden surname was listed as unknown. We later found out that Marie Christine was also known as Maren and Maria. We have surmised that Maren is her correct name but that it was anglicised when she emigrated to Australia from Denmark.

Think you’re confused; imagine how confused we were. After all, we thought all the information was correct. Don’t forget it was early on in our search and we were still naïve enough to think certificates were always right!

So we searched for Robert’s and Eda’s births, with lots of dead ends due to misinformation. However, we were determined and eventually found Robert’s birth in Victoria. His birth certificate gave us the correct names of his parents. We were having no luck finding Eda’s birth in Queensland; after all we were searching for an Eda Schultz at this stage. Everything came up blank, so we decided to leave her for a while.

Mum decided to see if any of Evelyn’s brothers were still living. Using the electoral rolls she found that a person with the same name as that which was listed on Robert’s death certificate was still in the family home in Subiaco. This had to Mum’s Uncle!

Mum went back to Jigsaw and with the help of Angela at Department of Family and Children’s Services was able to meet with her Uncle Stephen. Subsequently Mum also met both Uncle Lindsay and his family and her widowed Aunt Maisie. None of them had an inkling that Mum existed, or that Evelyn had ever had a child, but thankfully all were willing to meet Mum. Unfortunately Uncle Stephen and his wife both died shortly after. Uncle Lindsay, his wife and their daughter have become friends with Mum and she now sees them on a semi-regular basis.

From these sources she learnt more names, and was given some family photos and Evelyn’s gold slave bangle. She also got more dead ends! It seems the family didn’t talk much about the past, hence the mix up with the names on the death certificates. Mum was also able to give something back, as it was through her research that Uncle Lindsay found out that his second given name is the maiden surname of his paternal grandmother.

Mum of course was still wondering about her birth father, and as none of Evelyn’s living relatives had even know that Evelyn had been pregnant they had no idea who Mum’s father could be. Stephen and Lindsay were considerably younger than Evelyn and couldn’t remember whom she had been dating at the time. It was the one thing that Evelyn had never told Mum.

Earlier in her search, Mum had been encouraged by Glenys at Jigsaw, to forge on and see if she could find out any more information about her birth father but until now we had concentrated solely on Evelyn and her family. So it wasn’t until 1998 that Mum contacted the Department of Family and Children’s Services who advised that the Registrar of the Family Court would send any documents that could be located. Six months later a letter arrived enclosing the Adoption Order, the Application for Order of Adoption and the Consent to the Adoption. On two of these, George C was listed as my Mum’s birth father. We looked but we couldn’t find him anywhere, as he had an unusual surname Mum checked the phone book and found a couple of people with the same surname, so Mum again contacted Angela. This led to Mum making contact with her half-brother Darrell and finding out that her father’s name was actually Walter Thomas George although he was usually known as George. Mum also found out George had married twice and had three other children, so she had two half-brothers and half-sister. Unfortunately one brother had died in 1977, and George had died in 1987. She has since formed a strong friendship with both her remaining siblings and is in regular contact with Darrell.

It was about this time (2001) that we found out about and decided to join WAGS. I had the good fortune on one of my first visits to find both Mum’s maternal grandmother and great grandmother and great grandfather on the Queensland Pioneer CD. Many thanks to the wonderful lady who helped me work out the search engine. Remember how we originally thought Mum’s grandmother’s maiden name was Eda Schultz, and that was that name we for which we had been searching. Well, we had a breakthrough when we obtained Robert and Eda’s marriage certificate, we found out Eda’s maiden name was in fact Larsen. As soon as I searched under Larsen up popped Eda and her mother Marie Christine and her father Niels Peter. More certificates were ordered, and more information came to hand. Just to make a confusing story even more confusing, Eda’s name on her birth certificate is written as Ada, however on all other legal documents – her marriage and death certificates and her children’s birth certificates she is known as Eda! We wonder if her mother’s strong Danish accent was misunderstood by the Registrar and was incorrectly written as Ada.

Our search has so far us taken us through WA, Victoria, Queensland and New South Wales, as well as overseas to Scotland, England, Canada and Denmark (these last two countries can be a challenge to even a dedicated genealogist). We have found many births, deaths and marriages, and even a widow buried with both her husbands! We’ve found a gentleman, as stated on his death certificate, who helped establish and name the town of Wyndham (now known as Werribee) in Victoria, and on a trip with my husband, I found the family graves in Werribee. It was strange standing in front of these headstones, in a town I had never visited before, and realising that I had blood ties to those buried within these graves.

With help from Darrell, we have found living relatives in Canada and the USA and have email contact with them, thus learning even more about our ever-expanding family.

Using the local help columns in the Victorian newspapers, Mum has found cousins in Victoria. She is in both email and phone contact with them and we have, and still are, receiving more information from these sources.

Not content with her birth family, Mum has now completed a fairly extensive search of her adopted parents’ families in England, and has made contact with a couple of distant relatives.

In her search to find her roots, Mum has not only found out where she came from, she has also been lucky enough to find living family members who have embraced her. It has also expanded her horizons – she has learnt to use a computer, genealogy software, the Internet and email. She has found the patience to sit for hours in front of a microfiche. It has also given her an interest, and a chance to pass family information on to those she has met. She is slowly but surely adding more and more branches (and a few twigs as well) to her family tree.

I hope this story may help someone else find the strength to keep going, after all Mum sadly never got to meet her birth parents, and it has taken close to 16 years to get to this point, but there are not many branches left to find on her family tree. You could say her roots are now firmly planted.

Mysterious Indeed

Today I had my first kinesiology appointment and as I had feared there were tears shed. In fact I got very emotional indeed - and I still don't know exactly why as all Simon was doing was tapping very lightly on my forehead as he counted backwards from 53 to birth. When he got to birth the floodgates opened and I couldn't stop crying no matter how hard I tried, so I just let the tears come - felt very embarrassed indeed.

Simon tells me it is common as part of the process of letting go usually means tears. I'm still not sure what exactly I was letting go of - Simon said I was blocked with FEAR and that most of it came from birth, but I'm not sure how my birth caused me fear unless my Mum was frightened during my birth and somehow I picked up on that. Or maybe as a baby we have far more conscientiousness than I thought and I was scared of being born - after all I was a month prem. So I then held on to all the fears in my life and allowed them to control what happened - the fight or flight syndrome - I had patterned myself to react in certain ways when fear was involved. I need to digest this a little more I think.

However, even though I ended up in pain from laying on my back for over an hour, when I went shopping later in the morning, and shopping is when I get a lot of my back pain, standing in queues and walking around - no pain, not any, not in my back or down my leg or in my feet - nothing. Spooky isn't it.

So I am going back to see Simon in a fortnight for follow up and he is going to work on unblocking my thyroid and adrenal glands to see if that can help me loose weight and speed up my metabolism. I may need to have more work done on other areas of my meridians as we can quite easily fall back into old habits. But I am going to try really hard to understand what exactly I let go off so I don't welcome it into my life again.

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Hurting Ourselves

On Saturday I am going to see a kinesiologist - I've tried everything else that normal medicine has on offer to try and overcome my pain. Living with pain 24/7 even on the days when it is not too bad is so draining on my spirit. Somedays I wish I was not me, just for a day, but that is not ever going to happen.

Today while driving to work I found myself crying, just the odd tear escaping from each eye every now and then. I seem to find this happening more often nowadays. I am not depressed in the normal fashion, but I am emotionally exhausted, I have nothing left to give, not even to myself. The battery that keeps me ticking along just seems to have very little charge left in it. I know that I am not sleeping well and that doesn't help either, but I need to do something.

So I have made an appointment to see Simon - a lovely man who believes that we sometimes injure ourselves by holding on to stuff - stuff from our childhood, stuff from our everyday lives and stuff we don't even know we are holding onto. This blocks the meridians in our body and this effects our muscles. Now it might sound like smoke and mirrors to those non-believers out there, but I believe our mind is sometimes our worst enemy and sometimes our strongest friend. Simon believes I have at least 3 frozen accu-points in my body - 1 at the base of my skull, 1 in my shoulder and 1 in my back. He did a simple test today with amazing results. So smoke and mirrors or not, I believe I have nothing to lose, except the $80 it will cost me for 1 1/2 hours treatment - costs me more than that for my hair!

From what I have heard and understand about kinesiology I may have to confront things about myself - I am really quite scared about that aspect of the treatment, I like to be in control at all times but maybe this time I need to let go.

I am scared that many tears will be shed because I know when I am honest with myself that I hold on to everything. I store it in little places in my soul and bury it down so deep that I sometimes forget it is there, but it is. My soul bruises very easily, that doesn't mean I am thin skinned, but I take on the troubles of the world and the blows that others receive hit me as well. I don't understand all the bad things that are happening out there, I don't understand the selfishness of some people, I don't understand the hate, there is just so much that upsets me - and these are things I have no control over.

I feel physical pain every time I hear someone close to me saying hurtful to others they love and I love. My heart feels it all. I know that no one is happy 100% of the time and we all lash out in times of stress - I do it myself, I am certainly not perfect and when I do it too that hurts my heart even more. So I over compensate and try and control all the things I can within my sphere of influence.

Don't even get me started on how I feel about myself and my weight.

Yes I think there may be many tears shed, but oh to be free of pain.


Related Posts with Thumbnails