SHERMIN LEE

 'The line between sanity and insanity is very thin, people keep pushing it'

'In Sanskrit, kundalini means “coiled snake,” and it is believed that divine energy was created at the base of the spine. It’s energy we are born with, and Kundalini works to “uncoil the snake” and connect us to our divine essence. Kundalini was originally a study of the science of energy and spiritual philosophy.' - Excerpted from  Yogajournal I never asked for my  Kundalini to be awakened . Heck, I didn't even know what it was until 6 years after my first psychotic break. For all that men talk about Kundalini and its power, I feel that women are susceptible to awakening the kundalini by accident, or at least unintentionally, during childbirth or when having penetrative vaginal sex, especially as a virgin for the first time. If 'Kundalini, being feminine itself, is often associated with Shakti , the feminine life force, or sexual energy', it stands to reason that using the vagina for birth and sex can trigger some kind of Kundalini experience for the user. 'An

I have been struggling with sleep of late. My body is tired, but my brain just wants to keep going. Today is day 2 of not being able to shut down and rest. Last night, I slept 4, maybe 5 hours? Tonight, I'm hoping to get better rest. I walked 13,000 steps in a total of 2 hours today, so my body should be adequately tired... So then, why can't I go to sleep? I don't want to rely on sleeping pills. I believe in naturally healing the body. But why is my nature then denying my body sleep, when I've done everything I can to adhere to my human nature? I eat better, I exercise more, get enough sunshine... I'm physically tired, but I just can't get anywhere with my sleep... I'm still on Abilify, so it's not like I'm off medication... Am I headed for an uncontrolled spiritual experience (manic relapse) again? Or is my poor sleep due to my kundalini being awake ? Read more about Kundalini and wakefulness here . Click here for Sadhguru's take on sleep (exc

I remember experiencing, twice, the sensation of breath/life literally leaving my body, when my two babies exited my birthing canal on two separate occasions. I also remember the chill/funny feeling I felt when the epidural needle entered my spine. It was uncomfortable and alien, unwelcome and just... cold. Read about my birth trauma and how it triggered a Kundalini awakening here:  PTSD .

'If one is prematurely exposed to divine energy before the psyche has had a chance to develop/prepare its circuitry, the results can be catastrophic. Unable to tolerate the kundalini energy, the psychic container can become traumatised and turn on itself. Underlying/unresolved trauma and personality disorders are amplified, which if not faced and resolved, the kundalini energy can quite literally send one insane.' Excerpted from  Can Kundalini awakening trigger psychosis? by Jennifer Hiranya Rose Taken from  Yogajournal Taken from  Yogajournal

' I’ve studied a lot of Jungian Analytic Psychology, and this is how I’ve changed from a low-energy person to a high-energy person. Children almost always have high energy. This is because very little of their authentic desires, needs, instincts are repressed (yet). This is why children can eat terrible food and bounce effortlessly from interactive activity to activity. As we grow up, family / friends / society tells us what parts of our original childhood self are good or bad (praised / validated or shamed / useless). We basically get tried to ‘give up’ and suppress a lot of our original drives. For example a drive to be the center of attention or play spontaneously or be a class clown or express romantic / fairytale desire or even just feel powerful. These original needs and drives never disappear, they are pushed into the unconscious and become a ‘ shadow personality ’. It requires energy to suppress them, and because they are themselves sources of energy, we eliminate a ton of

  " Those who dance are considered insane by those who can't hear the music. " - philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche I heard the music, in the wards. I even felt like music was being written about me and my spiritual experience, in the next room. I swear, I heard music playing on the old intercom, and a piano tinkling in the next room, trying to put into composition my what my spiritual insanity was trying to communicate. I'd love to hear your music/madness stories.

At one point, when I was manic and in the hospital, in one of my earliest admissions, I insisted I was blind. I shut my eyes real tight, and remember literally moving around like a worm on the floor. I kept bumping into walls and things, and the nurses kept yelling at me to open my eyes. Ah, good times... But the experience taught me what it must feel like to be a sperm, swimming in the dark, bumping into things.  Another time, it felt like the whole hospital was a spaceship, spinning and spinning, and we were just landing. I also 'directed' the missing MH370 Malaysia Airlines plane in my psychosis. I felt its energy, I connected with it, somehow, and I directed it's safe passage to land. Yes, I have superpowers. P.s., did I also tell you I'm delusional? Lmao. Read more about Bipolar Disorder and sprituality here .

Maybe it is, maybe not... But since so many, if not all those afflicted with bipolar disorder report experiencing some kind of spiritual encounter in mania, or ' deep rest ' in depression, shouldn't we lend some credit, or at least explore the claims that there is an association between manic depression/insanity and spirituality? If this topic is of interest to you, you can explore more about bipolar and awakening at Sean Blackwell's website .

Nutritional Psychiatry says that your brain can heal from mental illness through food. Enroll in this free Edx course by University of Cantebury right now! ---- Chinese New year It's Chinese New year We all get together To celebrate family One day of every year My parents have made it very clear I don't need medication - now, I am all ears They say (and there is support for this) That food is your medicine or poison I'm currently studying the effects of what I consume, in what proportion Eating junk food inflames the brain So maybe therein lies the fault and blame I have not been taking good care of myself It's no wonder then, that I am in such poor health (Excerpted from my new book Nutrional Psychiatry: Food as your Brain's medicine) Buy the book here .

 

GOD: Give Own Definition. I personally like to refer to it as Source. 

You control your thoughts - i.e. the things you consume (content, food, social influences), and your thoughts in turn become your actions... You make your mind what it is, and what it becomes... Be careful what you decide to put in your body, and what you decide to focus your time and attention on, because it all gets internalised.

 How do you know what God wants from you? What life has designed, what Source has in store? Well, you never really know, and I'll bet nobody ever really does... We're all just feeling around in the dark here, and anybody who says otherwise is full of cow dung.✌🏽 But I can say this... You can start by looking within, not without, for the greatest expert on yourself (your dreams, wants, needs and aspirations) is you (and possibly your family)! So don't let the pretenders of the world set your guideposts for you. Step up and do the work on yourself, yourself. Reach out to @ clubheal @ samh or your preferred communities to get started, for support and friendship. You'll thank you later. 

Find a body of water, lie down and float. Let your body relax into the ebb and flow of the water and its movement, bobbing your body gently up and down. Look up at the sky, or else close your eyes, relax your body and mind, and just enjoy.

I remember telling my mum (and this was before my marriage) that I wanted to sample sausages. Now, I sample sounds @ sherminukulee /@ healingoffmeds Don't jerk off some jerkoff, go work and work your ass off. Pick up a microphone, not a dick. #theybothphallic #youcanquotemeonthat

 

The first book that confirmed all my suspicions and backed my gut feelings and intuition about child-rearing is this book by Jean Liedloff. I knew in my heart that common conventions are wrong about babies and children, regarding what babies and children need to not only survive, but thrive as emotionally whole and healthy individuals in modern society.  Children need to be carried in-arms, not just in strollers. Children need to be held and soothed, not just allowed to cry it out and 'self-soothe'. Children need to be given freedom to run and play, not just sit in a classroom. Children need to be given autonomy, not just authority. Children need to be allowed to play and flow on their own, not just guided and told what to do. Women need less traumatic births (i.e. waterbirth, doulas, home-births), not just drugs and medical intervention. Parents need support and a village to raise children, not just to go it alone. There is a time and place for tradition, and a time and place

I was on 3 years of Olanzapine and Haloperidol (oral pills) and Clopixol (monthly injection) since my last admission to hospital.  My eyes would randomly and uncontrollably roll back into my head every 2-3 days for hours at a time. I was powerless to stop the eye-rolling, and rendered sightless due to my eyes pointing upwards, towards the back of my head. This handicapped me from taking on any jobs, and I couldn't reliably leave the house alone, for fear that it might spontaneously attack while I was out of the house. That all thankfully stopped once I dropped the Clopixol jabs. The Olanzapine and Haloperidol made my memory suffer. I could not recall any of my immediate thoughts, even if only a few seconds had elapsed since I thought them. I favoured junk food and little movement, if I even moved out of my bedroom at all... I would sleep until the late afternoon, and then sleep again in the day, and then all through the night. It was no life at all. I am currently off medication, b

Read Laura's coming off drugs story  here . Follow inner compass initiative on Instagram .

 #bipolar 

I Now Diagnose You Bipolar . But, Why...? An imaginary panel discussion between myself, and the doctors (at the Institute of Mental Health, IMH) who treated me. Attention: this is NOT a work of fiction. This is me recounting my experience with my first, second, third and fourth psychotic break...       ---- IMH Doctors ( D ): From everything that we have observed, you present as suffering from Bipolar disorder.  Me ( S ): *My BEHAVIOUR presented/presents as someone living with Bipolar disorder. Now, I respectfully request the panel to please ask me why I behaved the way I did, during that period of my life... At home, a few days leading up to my first admission: D : Why did you believe you saw images of a succubus, God-like persons, a handsome Indian man (in the prints on the mirror), and a pair of eyes that belong to a black cat (outside of your bedroom window)? [On your very first psychotic episode/break from reality] S : I hadn't slept in 4 days. Pretty normal for the sleep-dep

It's not enough for therapists to genuinely and sincerely listen: I think all therapists should be trained to ask 'why', even when the answers are dark and twisted. Light is good for health; well then, so is darkness. Darkness brings healing and depth that light may not be equipped to provide. Especially when the questions and answers revolve around suicide, self-harm and existential depression. Read related by others:  Stuart Sanderson

I've always enjoyed singing and playing the ukulele... Some might even say, I have the talent for it. So it's been a long time coming for me to take lessons to master both singing and playing the ukulele, so that I may one day perform for a living... How successful I will become after I have fulfilled this endeavour (money, fame, fortune, gigs?), I do not know. But I have to start somewhere, and for the first time in a long time, I finally have a realistic goal I can look towards reaching, that is aligned with my hobbies, love and passions. 26 May 2023 Update: I did not, in fact, begin taking ukulele lessons... #amateurforlife  As for money, fame and fortune, I'd determined to let go of these grand illusions/delusions in favour of a far simpler life, filled with #love #laughter #togetherness and #thatsallimafter (MJ is probably rolling in his grave right now).

In case nobody has told you this, it's ok to relapse when you have mental health condition, whether it's bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, or whatever else it may be. It is not a failure on your part, and you are not a failure for relapsing. I have been off drugs for a while now, and I've never been better. I've never felt better or had a higher quality of life, but I know the risks of not being on meds (a supposedly higher risk of relapse), and I'm ok with that.  I'd rather live a happy, healthy life off meds and have a bipolar relapse than continue to stay drugged and unmotivated everyday.

 There are a lot of things I don't like... The trick is finding out what I really like. And there isn't very much that I like these days... It's hard to find a hobby or job when you don't really know what you're passionate about. I guess I should just keep trying and see what fits me.

 I had a super vivid dream today. In my dream, my mom and my daughter came home while I was lying in bed. My eyes were open, but I couldn't move. I tried to talk but what came out sounded like Helen Keller's speech. I asked '*mi, where's reyhan?', but but nobody could hear me.  I tried desperately to wake up, but my body would not move. After a few attempts at waking up, I finally did, only to remember that my kids were at school. If this is what death is like - falling asleep never to wake up, but being able to observe your loved ones from a place where you cannot interact with them, then I don't want to end my life prematurely. I want to be around for the ride. *mi is what I call my mum

So instead of sitting around with a black cloud above my head, moping, like I usually do, I decided to get up and move to a little bit of music on YouTube. Then, I picked up my ukulele and started to strum and sing some simple songs I liked. And I have to tell you, my mood completely lifted. I no longer have a dark cloud hanging over me. It felt good. I haven't felt this way in a long time. Maybe there IS something to trying new things... I've got nothing to lose, and it beats sitting around, moody and moping, anyway.

What do I do all day? I have a husband who works to support the whole family, so what DO I do all day? Well, the day starts with us trying to get our daughter out of bed for school. Once that is done, we go back to sleep for awhile... Then, my husband heads off to work while I continue the day in bed. It's not very healthy, I know. I try to find activities to fill up the empty hours of my day. Writing helps a little bit. On the same thread of unhealthy habits, I also like to order Grabfood. It's usually junk food. I should start taking better care of my body before my organs fail me. So, on an average day, I pretty much just spend it watching TV or browsing the Web looking at memes. It's not terribly exciting, but I get by. I wonder about you. What do you do all day, everyday?

I had an assignment to vet some transcriptions for a friend. It was easy work, but it was no fun, so I told her I couldn't do it. It's okay to fail. It's okay to say no. It's okay to say 'I cannot'. No one is going to punish you for being fallible, so really, don't sweat the small stuff.  

 If you asked me what the name of my blog meant, I would tell you it means 'slow down' or 'take it slow'. I was inspired by the Chinese phrase 慢慢来 ( màn màn lái), which literally means 'take it slowly'. So here's a reminder for those who read this blog: take life as it comes and go slowly. It's okay to live life in the slow lane.  🐌 

 I remember a man who was committed to the hospital (note: committed as in jail, not admitted as in general hospital) because of a suicide attempt. He was really pathetic, and I mean that in the most sympathetic way. He was a whiney old chap (around his 40s) and the only time we 'interacted' was when he was complaining about his sister to the nurses and whoever would listen. "She's such a bitch! I can't see without my glasses and she doesn't want to help me get my glasses here," I remember how desperate he sounded. I felt bad for the guy. Trapped in the hospital with little to no family support. No family support, damn I wonder what became of him. I hope he didn't try to take his life again, bitch of a sister or not. I wish him well.

 When I was in hospital (I've been in a total of 7 times IIRC), I met a hopeless young man who would lie on the floor all day. When his friend came to visit, he would lament that the place was hell to stay in and that he hated everyone here. He was generally very negative. I remember turning to him and saying 'give us a chance. You might end up having fun with the people here' or something to that effect. Same energy Lo and behold, fast forward a few years later and he's getting married to the love of his life, that he met in the very same hell he wasn't willing to give a chance to at first. They are madly in love and the happiest kids I know on Facebook. Now, fast forward a few years from when I first met them in a hopeless place, and I'm in the hospital again. This time, there is another blossoming romance. But alas, things never worked out because they both took their lives, one after the other.  Perhaps their lives would have been saved, if they had found so

 I am a result of the times I'm living in. I overeat and I have breakouts on my skin from stress.  Look at this Namibian woman with flawless skin and a healthy body. Now look at me and my obese ass sitting here writing this blog post. *SMDH

 I've been on meds for about close to 2 years now.  I used to have spurts of creativity, but ever since I got on my meds, I stopped having these highs, or manic episodes where I would write poems and posts. I can't say I miss being in the hospital too much. I like my freedom, and being in the hospital takes that away from me: no phone, no laptop, no way to contact the outside world. If I were to ever go back in, I'd borrow some books from the library before going to get admitted - mostly romantic type books. I may be bipolar, and the medication may be numbing, but at least I still have this platform, even if nobody is reading what I write. It's cathartic and therapeutic to get to write, almost like journaling, but public. If I were more able, I'd draw a nice cartoon to go along with this post. Maybe I'll give it a try: Ta-daa! I'm thankful for this laptop, it makes writing and drawing a breeze. I have my dad to thank. I still have all my loved ones with me..

 I'm happiest when I'm writing, because I feel productive. But when the dark thoughts assail me, I feel useless and start questioning my existence. The one passion I have is writing. Oh well, I have multiple interests: I like music, and to sing, too. I only wish for a way to turn my passions and play into something profitable.   I want to feel like my work means something; I want to be productive and love my work, too.

It's been close to 2 years since I was last admitted to hospital for mania (Dec 2019). I've been at home doing fuck all and feeling bad about it - thoughts like 'I should rejoin the workforce' and 'I feel useless lying around at home all the time' would manifest, leaving me feeling suicidal at times. But now I know there is a movement called #tangping or #lyingflat, and I don't feel so bad anymore. Increasingly, more and more people are rejecting the 996 (9am - 9pm, 6 days a week) working life, and are just coasting by day to day like I am. They work less and live within their means. I don't work at all. I feel bad that my husband is the only one supporting our young family. But my bipolar depression acts as a handicap sometimes, and it's hard to hold on to any job. Suffice to say I'm glad #tangping exists, and I don't have to feel bad about wanting to stay at home without working. Perhaps I'll take the next step in tang ping and get a te

Just like video tapes went out of style, cell phones with cameras will go out of style, too. We will replace phones with virtual reality technology. How, I do not know, but I know it with certainty, that there will come a day when we no longer use our phones to take and save photos.

When we sit in a car, an airplane, any vehicle that travels faster than we can on foot, we are effectively cutting short our journey, thus time-travelling (speeding up time). If I would have gotten to my destination in 4 hours by foot, and I take 30minutes by car, I am speeding up my travel process. If that isn't time-travel (pressing the fast-forward button), then what is?

I was feeling dejected and down, seeing my life as bleak and meaningless. That is, until I started reading some articles on Mothership.com, specifically their 'Stories of Us' section. It was then that I realised that our destinies are in our own hands. We shape who and what we become, by reaching out and getting for ourselves the very things we want, becoming the versions of ourselves that we want to be. I want to be a writer, and so I reached out to their recruitment arm. Here's hoping they write back. Update: well blow me down, it just came to my attention that I'm already a writer. I'm writing this blog, aren't I? Lol.

I had not known this to be true - that writing for a living would be a dream come true. Every time my fingers tap the keyboard and words form on the screen, it's like some kind of magic taking over. I pray and hope for more writing engagements; to put my skills and voice to use.

Instead of thinking of home and 'outside' as separate, think of the space blending into one another. Think of outside as an extension of home... Then maybe it wouldn't be so hard to leave the house, since you never really left, and the whole of outside is part of the inside (your home). @sherminukulee

You cannot talk about Mental Health without religion and spirituality coming into the mix. You cannot understand mental health conditions based purely on brain science: what about the soul? What about consciousness being about more than thought; being about heart and spirit? Psychiatry is based on brain science, but I'd put my money on therapy that involves talking about feelings, and feeling human emotions, whether it's loneliness, sadness or grief. @sherminukulee

So what if we know the composition of the human body? I'd like to know why I'm alive, sentient, and thinking.. 26 May 2023 Update: I feel like I have a vague hold on the why, having now gone through spiritual metamorphosis and cultivating the practice of consistent emotional regulation (regular catharsis)... My next question is  HOW ???

What is 'keeping busy'? What does it look like? Filling your time at a job you don't care about? Keeping busy for the sake of being busy..? And in your spare, free time, what do you do? You try and stay occupied with entertainment. It is no wonder then, that you find nothing worthwhile. Because all you do is waste your time 'keeping busy/staying entertained' when there are so many causes out there to champion... And yet, there you sit, lamenting the fact that life is boring, when it is indeed within your jurisdiction to change that. Start by looking outwards: what's a great cause for me to champion with my time today? Maybe clean water; sanitation; hunger. Stop wasting your time, when you can donate it. Or maybe start by looking inward: what moves me, what drives me, what do I enjoy? What would I be doing right now, if I could do anything in the world?

Today I am 'Happy' But 'happy' is almost profane: a curse word. I'm afraid to say I feel happy, because it is often an emotion or state of being that is all too fleeting... So what am I feeling today? Uplifted, cheerful, nice... Never 'happy', because 'happy' is a bad word, something I cannot achieve on my own? No. Nevermind that it doesn't last; even if for half an hour, I feel happy right now.

Look around you - what do you see? I see decay. As we take our next breath, we grow closer to drawing our last. As we live, so too are we dying.

I feel like an animal, trapped in a cage of my own making. It is a gilded one with lots of creature comforts. I have nothing to complain about, and yet I lament my sedentary lifestyle - still, I'm not motivated to do anything about it. Is this a catch-22 situation? It sure feels like it.

Why are we always in such a rush, such a hurry, to be somewhere? What about the present? I see the frazzled, hassled-looking nenek hurrying her charge along, pulling him by the hand. Why? Where are they going? What are they late for? Why do we spend our days and our time on Earth  rushing, worrying, working as hard as we do for our quality of life and standard of living - there is no guaranteed fortune, or heaven, at the end of our existence, so why do we live like we're in hell, and heaven is miles and miles away... when it could very well be on our doorstep, if we just stopped to look, listen, and play..? Why are we going so fast, what am I missing? What's wrong with slowly slowly now? Again, what am I missing out..?

Feel.

Myself.

Is sex/gender fluid? No, you are either male or female. Is identity fluid? Yes, you can identity as male, female, male-female, female-male etc. But that is only my opinion, which we all know, is fluid. #agreetodisagree

Comfort is not a reward, it is a systematic management process for emotions like sadness, grief and anger. Punishing big emotions only exacerbates and fuels anger/frustration etc. The emotional child is needing and wanting for your comfort and attention. Will you choose to be soothing and help soften rough, sharply-edged and pointy emotions, or do you continue to whip and lash the suffering *animal/hurting *child? *Plot-twist: The suffering animal/child is you .

The time you spend working is also life... So why do we separate work and life as two different things? You are alive and living and breathing as you go about doing your work (well, most of us, anyway). So why choose to submit to the slow death of mindless, soul-crushing-or-numbing-at-best, meaningless work? <  Neglect Your Family & Ignore Your Passion  > #survival over #selfrealisation is #deathtohopesanddreams... and #deathtohopesanddreams is #livingbutnottrulyalive

Happiness and fulfillment aren’t something you think your way to. It’s in the doing and being present every day. --- All the thinking and rationalizing in the world is just expending mental energy. At a certain point you have to 'do', and be present in your actions.

You have an object. You need to move said object from point A to B. You remove object from point A and carry it to point B. Congratulations, you have accomplished a task, and are now fulfilled. -- You have an object at point A. You have another of the same object at point B. You no longer have any job to do, in relation to ferrying objects from point A to point B. Your service/work is no longer required. You have been rendered not useful, in this circumstance. #obsolete #noworknofulfilment

I wish I could suck and fuck and have fun and not give a damn or two shits about people in my life. I just wish I had the opportunity to have meaningless, animalistic sex, without the consequences. #Girlsjustwannahavefun Update (4 Dec 2022): It's been 3 years since I wrote this post. I can say without hesitation that I have certainly moved past feeling this way in my life. I have experimented within reason, learned and grown a little, and the only sucking and fucking I'm interested in doing now is sucking less at playing the ukulele and singing, and being fucking awesome and winning at life. 😎

Today, my daughter quietly let go and pissed her panties, puddling onto the floor. I did not get mad - which would have been my usual, tired response when I'm stressed and distracted. Instead, I shamed her. The damage I did to her psyche was far worse than if I had responded angrily, or taken a healthier/more healing approach by supporting and encouraging her, and letting her know that it was okay, we all do silly/undesirable things, make mistakes, and accidents happen. I shamed her by telling her I was not, in fact, going to clean her up, and she could stand in her piddle. She really, really started to cry. And for the rest of the day, she refused to wear panties, asking to be comfortable in diapers instead. I had achieved the opposite effect of what I had set out to do. Shame is an unwieldy emotion that parents, and a patriarchal society has to be or should learn to be careful with. By Ciole Loia, on Quora:

Breathe in, breathe out (deep and slowly). Hold your breath for as long as you can, after the outflow/exhalation. Appreciate the little death in life. The quiet. The void/the chilling-out (state of resting). Go back to regular/more shallow breathing, as you normally would. WARNING: DO NOT TRY IF YOU ARE PRONE TO PASSING OUT FROM HOLDING YOUR BREATH. ATTEMPT AT YOUR OWN PRECAUTION.

This is a story of how we became a lost, and losing people. -- Once, there was a king who loved his wife, very, very much. She was his moon, his stars and his ocean.  When he was down, she was his up. And he loved her so much, that he gave his seed to her, 3 times, to grow her womb and bring her fruits into bloom and blossom And he was happy. Alas, that happiness was not to last. One evening in July, as she was out by the garden, gazing at their children playing in the fountain in the great sprawling grounds of the palace, tragedy struck. Her short, impermanent life was taken by a passing beast that had determined to crouch and hide in the bushes. It had no reason to attack and maul her to dying (it did not appear to be hungry), but it did anyway, apparently unprovoked, as her children watched in horror, powerless to stop the unfolding gruesome scene of their mother being torn apart, limb by limb, in the mouth of an unrelenting and fearsome lion. And it was

I direct my attention, and my attention in turn directs me. What I choose to pay attention to, and give focus to, becomes my life. And my life will continue to revolve around the things I lend importance to, in my mind. Until and unless I turn my attentions elsewhere, onto other tangents, thoughts, and ideas, my life is what I choose to pay attention to. What I choose to think, becomes what I act on. What I act on, gives me fodder for my thoughts. (The attention - direction cycle)

Once you have faced the worst of your emotions, fear melts away. I wonder when fear will visit me again. I hope when it does, he comes to see me as an old friend, and not an enemy.

To allow yourself to feel, before you attempt to communicate with someone else's emotions. To cry before you address the needs of a crying child. To feel their pain, and respect its nature and power, and understand its source origin (or at least attempt to), before you begin to attempt to interact with it and to try and convert that energy into something less destructive to the self, and more healing (lest you absorb that pain, or destroy them or a part of yourself in the process of attempting to heal).

Life-form: a living creature/animate being Life-source: a well or pool of sustenance for something or someone living. I have always been a life-form: my body, and its energies. But becoming a woman, and a mother - carrying a child in my womb, and then feeding and sustaining her from my own flesh and body (breast milk) turned me into a life-source. My connection to the source of all life - energy, and mystery - was strongest when I was both a life-form, and a life-source. God(?), or source, was sensed at its strongest, when I was breastfeeding my child. I mourn that psychiatric doctors interfered with a connection they could not understand - they did not understand that it was detrimental to my physical and emotional and mental health to stop using *source to take care of and feed my daughter. *source refers to God, or the divine, or universal forces - I.e. the naturally occurring milk that a mother makes for her child, with her natural body. I am still sa

Adulting is hard. So treat yourself to that ice cream cone, or buy yourself a cute stuffed plushie to hug. Give yourself the experience you would have wanted your parents to give you, when you were a kid. Your inner child will thank you, and you will feel happier for taking care of your innocence and the place where joy and pure love comes from.

In my hand, I hold a pen The power to be free A flower child, lost in the wild Slow-growing on a tree And if I fall down to the ground, Then who will capture me? A cosmic force, a sonic voice Tells me that soon, you'll see

Source made/created/produced every man, woman and child, and every creature on earth beautiful: with the potential to be-a-you-to-full.  Be a you, to full. Be yourself, to the fullest capacity you know how. ❤

Today, everything that could have gone wrong, did. I had planned on getting a good night's rest, but my daughter kept waking me up all through the night, complaining of aches and pains. In the morning, I felt tired and had the runs, courtesy of my kids and their gastric flu. I popped some pills and left it at that. I had half a mind not to even step out the door - what would it matter if I missed a day of exercise, a day of work? I immediately nipped that thought in the bud - negative automatic thought is second-nature and seductive. Powering through your natural responses and reactions takes a certain level of calm and determination. So I told myself to fight through the sick/tired feelings. Even when I had to turn back and head home to switch my pair of pants out (my helper had left incomplete stitches and a pin in the one I was wearing), I had to remind myself it was okay! Even when I found myself sitting at the coffeeshop, trying to book a cab and not g

Cleo-PAT-Ra was the name of a lion. A God. A creature. Cleo: woman. Pat: (now known as pet). Ra: Goddess/God. Cats were not pets or slaves or servants. Not to the Egyptian kings and queens, at least. They were protectors. And the protector to protect them all? CleopatRa. When we KILLED her (the beast), Egypt fell apart. The ‘Lion Sleeps Tonight’, a song about killing lions/hunting them for sport, underscores the tale of how Man, in his folly, ill-appointed himself as protector and ruler of the realm, when the higher power should have gone to the beast of beasts, the animal to rule them all: the lion queen (beast) and her king (man). One without the other, and the world is tipped into chaos and imbalance. We are all animals. Human beings are NOT the apex predator, and neither are we prey. We are somewhere in the middle. And we have forgotten that, thinking ourselves higher creatures than our quadruped counterparts. I submit we honour cats and nature again; a cat’s purr vibrat

Dad, you didn't teach me discipline or control over my sexuality. You were always absent- when you weren't working, you were still checked out emotionally. I never learned how to hug a man or draw healthy touch or affection and attention from men, because you never role-modelled that for me. All you ever were was unavailable, physically and emotionally. Maybe your presence and simply listening to me would have taken the wind out of my sails, on a ship sailing towards lust and hedonism... Mom, you didn't teach me how to, or that it was ok to harness and cultivate my sensuality. I had to fly blind and grope around in the dark to figure out that a woman's power is her gentleness and kindness of heart, not just her sexuality. Being sexy and desirable is not powerful, without also being kind and soft, to my partner(s) and to myself. I'm not complaining about my parents. I'm taking responsibility as a parent, as a mother and as a father, too, in the abs

There is a darkness that consumes Everything in its path It is a formless, shapeless monster  With no future and no past It likes to hide in places Where nobody knows its name It takes the brightness out from light And fills a heart with pain Some know it rather well and dear While others never know its fear The power that is has, control Steals away inside your soul At last, in darkness, shall I find A quiet, still, and peaceful mind  I accept that this I am 'Meaningless', she is my friend

You raised me with anxiety and irrational fear in your heart, and that's why I have my own anxieties and irrational fears now. You guilt-tripped me into apologising for behaviours and expressions that were actually healthy for me, and that's why I struggle to exhibit healthy behaviours and habits, and to express myself in a genuine and open and honest way. You encroached upon my decision making, which is why I made bad and foolish choices, against my better judgement and instincts. I'm flaky, and I escape my problems and big emotions. I cannot blame you, but I don't think it is a coincidence that my sister is this way, too. For all this, you have made me stronger and wiser. You did your best to mould my spirit, but I fit no mould. I broke apart to break free of your control and your manipulation, only to fix myself back together again, this time with no manual or directives from you, but to the whisperings of my own heart. I love you for trying and

The human spirit is limitless. When you trap it in a cage, staying at home all day, or sitting in a ward in a mental hospital all week, month, year(s), what do you expect happens to the human spirit? Neglected, or not taught how to embrace, harness and channel your spirit into 'fulfilling' activities and tasks, the mental and spiritual faculties decline from lack of use, or misuse. Instead of putting your mind, body and will to good work that could potentially benefit yourself and other people, we sit staring out the window from within the confines of the mental institution's ward... The same can be said to be true of staying home, consuming entertainment media all day. We are all spiritual beings. We are capable of healing our spirit the same way a bird let loose from its cage has the option of flying away, learning how to, or to stay grounded. The choice is ours, how we want to harness and channel our living essence. We can read, research, ask for guidanc

Something happened to me today that turned my understanding of myself and my emotions on its ear. I began to understand why I'd checked myself into a mental hospital, to cry and grieve and scream and generally act like a mentally insane person. I was denied the release of my emotions (i.e. my anger, my sadness, frustration and fears) when I was under my parents' tutelage. It became apparent to me, after how they handled the situation today: instead of owning up to their emotions of sadness (which I suspect was their primary emotion, seconded by frustration, perhaps), they responded to my 3-year old daughter's tears and frustration with anger. She'd wanted to go swimming, but she wanted to go to sleep. She'd wanted to go out for a fun excursion, but she also wanted to be carried to the car. And so, in her confusion and ambivalence, she released her emotions the only way she knows how: by talking through tears and screams of loud frustration. And ho

As a child, I was touched inappropriately. After that, I repressed the memory for the rest of my life, until now. Perhaps my childhood trauma is one of the reasons why I spiraled out of control and ended up in a mental hospital, and possibly why I overeat.

I sign up for projects and work and think 'oh I'll be happier for having done it/achieving this' when really, the most rewarding part of the job is being on the job. Doing the work, experiencing the activities and socialising with the people: that's where the payout lies. Ofcourse, taking a paycheck home is also, if not equally enjoyable. But if you choose only to focus on the end goal, the game itself becomes... Well, cumbersome and exhausting. But if you play to have fun, and enjoy the work you've chosen to do- to immerse yourself in the situation - well, then you create your own gold. *Thumbs up*