It’s late Friday night 6th November, and early Saturday morning, 7th November. My tinnitus is having a party, and my brain is singing, “Hark The Herald Angels Sing!” It’s been a bit of a day, and I am not ready to go to bed yet.
Today [Friday 6th November, or yesterday as the case may be] was my final counselling session, and I am in a reflective mood.
I’m just thinking where I was about a year ago, and the changes these sessions have wrought in me. I want to share more of the processes I went through, and the outcomes. At the present moment, it is hard to find the words to describe my current state of being, but suffice to say, I will quote my counsellor, who said that these sessions have allowed me to reconnect with myself.
I must say I did achieve one of me main objectives. The lancing of the internal boil. That tightness in the stomach that was ever present, an accumulation of years of regret. A constant reminder of what I could have done, if only I had the courage.
For me the process was successful in some unexpected ways. Learning how assertiveness actually feels. For example, saying No, in a quiet but firm manner. Learning how to be still. Learning how observe your emotions and responses. Learning that it is quite OK to feel what you feel, it is OK to be angry, and that you have choices in how you respond to, and act on them. Also, laying a few ghosts to rest, along with the greatest love I have ever had, unrequited.
Perhaps the most unexpected success, is learning to relate to another person more openly as the person I really am.
Of course, I can also reconcile myself with the idea that I am a good person. A person worthy of love. A person who is loved. I can say that I have a good self esteem, that is quiet and assured, that inner sense of value, and not the razzle, dazzle, I shower people with.
But none of this would have happened, if my counsellor had not offered me the free sessions, which gave me the time and space within which to continuing my inner work. I still think, that if I had stopped the sessions back in July, I would still be relatively fucked up. But…..
Just as important, if not more so, was the online chats with my mate Damian. He became the barometer by which I measured the changes taking place. Remembering the way I used to communicate with him [which was the same with others, constantly deflecting], and finding that I was enjoying being more direct, honest, and being myself.
The fact is, people, that being yourself, is liberating. But it does take courage. This was a recurring issue for me, over the past year, and my counsellor did suggest that I allow my environment to respond to me being me, rather than me, holding myself back, because of any fears, or preconceived ideas of what may happen. If I be myself. This is a big ask. But perhaps, I having started be more courageous, without realising it?
I say that being yourself, being truly yourself, takes courage, because my experiences of the world, and indeed many people, have been that it is [they are] only too ready and willing to put roadblocks in my path to selfhood. This is done by means of social and cultural rules, expectations, and what have you. Our world encourages us to aspire to be someone other than ourselves. But there are plenty of people out there saying, “Fuck You!” and perhaps it’s high time I joined them?
Of course, the process is never ending, and I do plan on going back for more inner work. But for now, I am reflecting on my new sense of being. Which if all goes well, I will be sharing with my friends.
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Mephistic Moments: On Knowing Someone
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