Thursday, April 28, 2016

Lessons New Zealand has taught me

The idea of moving to New Zealand was rather exciting, and my entire body was buzzing from joy and excitement.  I was so ready and so happy about it.
I never saw myself age in Slovenia anyway.

Ages ago I met a cristal-ball-lady and she said there is a gypsy soul living inside me (totally!) and therefore I am not a settler, I am a mover. She said I will leave Slovenia and won't come back.

So buzzing guts, happy heart, man that I couldn't love more by my side, and the bad ass words from a psychic --- It seemed as I am all set for the move.

But the last few days before we left I stopped eating, anxiety replaced the joy and excitement, fears replaced the courage.

I felt as I am dying.

Lesson #1: Moving hurts

Old pain came back -- Family!
Although they were very supportive of our decision,I couldn't stop feeling terrible and guilty.
 "How will my mom survive without me? Am I giving up on them? How will my brother be?"

I felt like someone was tearing my heart apart. The sensation was so strong and so scary, it paralyzed me completely.
It was exactly the same to the one I had at one stage during my recovery when I was processing the cause of my eating disorder, processing the dark side of my family. It was the stage that lasted the longest and during that stage I wanted to quit my rehab every single day.
Realizing that my family is harming me (and themselves) broke my heart into pieces. I remember my therapist encouraging me (at one point telling me) not to visit them for a while, because they are so very toxic. I remember the image in my head and the sensation in my body as the world was falling literally apart, sinking into its own self. I physically couldn't breathe when processing that. The scariest thing ever. I saw the image and felt this sensation on the right side of my face.
The only truth I knew was now gone. If I have to live my life without them (not in a physical sense of the word but emotionally free from them) who am I then. My dad's opinion is the  only one that counts and the way my mom takes care of the family is the only right way, and if one isn't as successful as my parents one is worth less, because my parents set up those standards for me and my brother. They were my only truth. And I was expected to let go of that truth and find my own one?
I'd rather die.
That was definitely the darkest time of my life and I honestly just wanted to die.

Without my family am I nobody.

That is what my mother brainwashed me to believe "Tasi, friends come and go, Family stays."

It never mattered that my bulimia was born in that family, that I grew up with domestic violence, my mother being extremely passive  aggressive, my dad aggressive without boundaries... They were my truth.

I sort of processed that and with enormous amount of Jono's support I distanced myself from them at least so I could take a breathe and slowly, very slowly, I understood what my therapists were talking about and what did Jono mean everytime he said: "Babe, nothing matters, we are a family now."
The child inside me was screaming, but   slowly I managed to say No to my parents, stand my ground. But the inner child, the abused and "the wrong one" was not healed.
If my parents blew at me I would still tip over. They could manipulate me with their eyes closed.



However - -
I sort of pulled myself together and made few grown ups decisions, which actually helped my relationship with my parents (although The inner child hasn't been healed yet) but moving to NZ threw me straight back into the pool of the biggest pain.... like I have never even touched that area before.
It was so painful.
All over I felt like my world is falling apart, sinking into its own self. Who am I if I am not defined by my mom and dad and my brother?
How will they be without me?
The biggest pain was related to my brother actually. The physical pain when I hugged him for the last time at the airport was just insane.

The burden I carried months and months after we moved to NZ because my mom suffers so much because we left was just too much.

I knew my dad will be alright because he is a very logical man, and he put one and one together, figured out we are be better off in NZ and that is good enough for him.
But my mom and my brother hit the very rotten old spot.


I felt so much sadness it was insane. It felt as I died and I talked to my family and friends from heaven every now and then. Everyone was so sad. It took me about two months to realize I am not dead and I have life to live, then additional four months to pull myself together and process the actual sadness and loss of identity.

I grieved for the streets of my city and I still dream of my village.


Lesson #2: What defines you? Should anything even define you but you?

The strangest sensation in the world - who am I?
Things, places and people that defined me up to this point are no longer there.
I am on my own. Alone.
Am i slovene? Balkan? Slavic? Mom and Dad's daughter? Such and such's best friend? His sister?Non of that was there for me to lean on, to point at and say "That's it! That's me. I belong there!"

I have heard people say things like "We own nothing. We belong to no-one and no-one belongs to us." but experiencing that in practice was rather -- uncomfortable.

All I had was my own self, and my story.

For someone with such amount of selfhate relying on my own self was really beyond me.
If I tell people I am from Slovenia that means nothing to them. They don't get any clearer picture of who I am.They don't know whether Slovenia is a country or food. If I tell them I am Bosnian they know even less. Or even worse, they make an assumption that i am a refuge. If I tell them I am from Ljubljana, it is like I said I am made out of marshmallows.
Nothing would put some sort of a frames on "who am I" -  nothing but the way I spoke, the way I laughed, the way I interacted in that very moment. Me. Myself.

I don't know how, I don't know when, but it seemed to me as one day I just woke up stronger than ever before, relying on my own self, walking my own path. Still experiencing little to massive anxiety everytime I interacted with   someone or just walked outside (It took me 6 months before I walked outside by myself for the first time), but I overcame it each and every time.

It is quite liberating, actually, to be pure, simple YOU.
But we grow up believing that family brings safety. The village brings safety. Community brings safety. Whatever we are familiar with brings safety. But no. It is the very raw core of ourselves that can bring you safety.

I relay on myself now. I can tell people who I am without looking for the definitions that would help them get the IDEA about me.... no ideas. just me. true me. Natasa. The way I am because of me.
Not because of my family, not because I am Slovene and Bosnian (although I love the fact I inherited Balkan temperament and passion), not because of the way I grew up, not because of anything but myself.

Every now and then fear of depression and bulimia arises, but now I have the tools to pull myself together as soon as I realize how I feel, and I have been doing quite well.


Lesson #3: When feeling lost - go back to basics!

I had a period of two weeks when I became so very sad. So sad and unsatisfied. I set with that feeling day after day, trying to figure out what is it about and what to do with it. Thanks goodness for all those years of therapy and meditation. I set still and went into my body. I felt the sadness and it really hurt me but after couple of weeks of hard work and trying to feel it, it became apparent that the sadness is all about loneliness. I feel lonely. Ever since we have moved we have been unsettled, and had no time and space to make new friends. I miss friendship hug, laughter, support... I have Jono and we are best friends, but at least one other friend. I was able to understand the feeling of sadness, and I was able to embrace my loneliness. Suddenly, it all made sense, my life made sense. My situation made sense. My feelings made sense. I am displaced. I belong nowhere and that is a pretty sad realization. I know that from a psychological point of view we shouldn't even aim for belonging in a sense of the attachment, but I am talking about belonging as safety. Belonging as home. As space where you can slow down, feel and recover. And we had no such place, because life circumstances turned out the way they did and life gave us few more lessons before it would give us the "belonging" ..

Lesson #4: I don't have to be a bitch 
We moved to NZ with jobs waiting for us. But once we arrived they said they need additional 4 weeks before they can accept us. So there we were with no place to stay other than our parents. We needed this time because our relationship with Jono's parents was not glorious and we have been silently hurting one another big time for the past year and half. we needed some time together to restart the relationship, heal and recover from the invisible war.

it started off as a promising recovery, but after a week it all became even more painful. We simply can't meet my mother-in-law's criteria. We always disappoint, on all the levels. Either we sleep in for loo long or we don;t help around the house or we are using them or we are giving a vibe that they are too old to hang out with or we don't want to be engaged or we are too engaged or we aren't aiming high enough or we are aiming too high and are just the two dreamers or we don't earn enough or we are too generous or we let people use us or we are selfish or we are inconsiderate or we are too loud or too quiet. Being stuck in that situation for such a long time (we paid for food and at one point moved out) was both good and bad for us.... Good was that we protected out marriage so much that we would not once give my mother-in-law any material for any judgments which in practice meant I was the best behaved wife ever. I wasn't a bitch, I didn't comment every Jono's movement and I embraced him the way he is for the sake of not being seen as a difficult wife, I didn't whine and I didn't complain - at all! So, after this I had no more excused - If i could hold myself back for my parents in law I can hold myself back and not emotionally (ab)use Jono even if parents in law aren't around. Jackpot!!
But putting up a show for such a long period and being hurt by them because they just wouldn't embrace us as their children and treat us with unconditional love hurt both of us and the pain was real, especially for Jono as they were Jono's parents, so there was a lot of pain untreated and the day we left we both literally exploded. We hurt each other. But we also forgave eachother for all the bad words said in the fight and one more time proved to eachother how much we care and how grateful we are that that was our only second yelling fight we had in 6 years of relationship.
This was the moment that brought us closer again and for the first time I didn't see Jono as my support but someone I love and respect and someone whos heart can get broken as well and I should be there for him and support him just the way he always does for me. Very important break through in my behaviour and emotional development.

Lesson #5: You can only help this much
We took a role of teacher parents for the young boys (age 11-17) who have severe conduct disorder and mental health problems. With other words, for those from not a field of psychology - a very,very naughty boys. Their crimes vary from stealing cars, robbing big businesses, sexually assaulting other children and youth, heavy drug use and selling drugs, strong gang connections and being violent in public and their personal circle.  They come from heartbreaking background and their stories tear your heart apart, cut it right open! Growing up as product of a rape, seeing mother geting raped and beaten on daily bases, being heavily beating yourself, often needed to be hospitalized because of the seriousness of the injuries, being not fed, starve most of your childhood, get beaten by bet by your mother everytime she got high and the worst of all -- being left in this situation until your mother dies and you are 11 and you lose your mind because now you are a teenager and you are angry and all you know is violence, drugs and sex, and you are on a loos and the crimes you commit and bigger now and you put innocent people at risk the social workers finally pick up their game and think now its tie for you to get tome help, and they look for people like us who are willing to help and who will take such cases on board. So there we were, with two boys (three more waiting to join our household but were put on hold because one of the boys was way too dangerous and first he needed to be replaced - to prison, because their is no such treatment available for such heavy cases) who do drugs everyday and night, hate the system and all they want to do is to destroy the system and evrything related to the system, including you, who give them food, a nice big sunny room, clothes, love and professional treatments. Their strategy to destroy you is very violent with daily assaults, both physical and verbal, to the point that police dispatcher recognizes your voice when you call the police.  Their old pain coming out in a form that is painful for all of us, but you understand it. You know it is not the child's fault.
you can see the treatment work and soon they become to trust you a bit, though still attach you physically almost every day, and you can have some quite happy moments with them. You care so much for those boys that you love them with every fiber of your being yet at the same time you are scared of them because they can end your life at any point. We have been threatened to be killed on number of occasions and sometimes the treats were serious.

During the night they would be taking drugs, stealing from you, running out and coming back in the middle of the night and for every inappropriate behaviour you need to write an incident report and inform the police. Awake most of the nights, working hard from 7am till 11pm - in the mornings you need to get the household set up, shopping and cleaning, meeting lawyers, social workers, psychiatrists, therapists, psychologists, teachers, in the afternoon you need to be with the boys delivering the treatment, therapies and keep them sober.  You get one night a week off.

And as much as we cared for the boys and wished for them to get back on track and as much as their progress made our hearts sing and everytime they were able to hold a respectful conversation, ask you for an advice or simply love you was a magical moment, but we did't have enough support from our employers and support staff and we were burning out.  We have one rule: always protect the marriage! so we left! We left the situation with broken hearts but stronger than ever before, closer than every before, more connected and more inlove and respecting eachother more than ever before.

The progress I made during this time was equivalent to 2 years of therapies on weekly bases.

Lesson #6: If you don't protect yourself, no-one else will

It wasn't easy to leave because we cared so much for the boys and they progressed so much and they cared for us too, and they have no-one else who cared for them. We made wonders with those boys, but we reached the limit. We asked for more support, asked for more time off, and although they guaranteed and always reminded us that they will do anything to support us, they failed to fulfill their promise. By they I mean our employers.
They actually didn't care how we felt. they olny cared about how much use do they have from us.
And they used our commitment and our good hearts.
Leaving was especially hard for me because the voices were screaming things such as: "you are a quitter!" "You should be grateful they gave you the job." "You are weak." "if only you were perfect they [the employers] would fight for you."
All this crap, but I managed to look our boss into his eyes and say "it is not good enough for us."

At last, we were free.

Lesson #7: Relationships require sacrifice
Although we were free at last, it wasn't time for us to settle yet.
We had my brother visiting. We loved having him here and he was the best support in those hard times and he was the best and the easiest visitor, but anyhow we were on the road all the time, traveling around NZ. I was ready to move in into the new house and settle and rest and sleep and recover, and make some friends....but not yet!
He is our brother. Our dearest friend. Our family. the relationship with him was our priority. Creating home will wait.

Once my brother left, my cousin arrived. Same thing.
Our creating a home needs to wait. Tired and exhausted but we knew that when all is over and we are safe, we will be very grateful for both of them (brother and cousin) visiting us. And we are.

Brother and I needed that time together. It brought us closer together.

For new friendships you need to put an effort in. Go out and try. Fail and try again.
I wish we could just tap someone's shoulders who seems interesting enough and say "Hey, would you be my friend? or Would you try to be my friend?" just like four year olds do.

For old friendship you need to put even more effot in, and no matter how sleepy you are at night you answer that call and answer the messages. No matter how tough your life is at the moment, you share your pain with your friend so you dont lose the depth of the friendship.

And you realize how many friendships dry out before you even land into the new country. But that's ok. 

Lesson #8: Commit to stillness 

Finally it was end of March and my cousin left and we committed to stillness. We slowed down.
We couldn't wait to create a home, go into the community, meet people, explore our new town, see where do we even live and who are the people we share this space with.

When we slowed down the pain and suffering had time and room to come out but also , this time I had room and time to feel and process it all. Processing was very unpleasant, but  once I let go of those emotions beautiful things began to happen. I met my first friend. I freed myself from sadness. Jono's mom and dad started putting effort  into the relationship (we are all good now), my body stopped hurting me, I continued with yoga and meditation again, I began to create and write, and most importantly- I began to feel and understand. And belong.


Bonus lesson: If you have to push it, Don't! Just leave it. Let it become ripe.









 
  



Sunday, April 10, 2016

Art of Letting Go

I have been trying to write a post about my life in New Zealand in chronological order, but i somehow don't  "like it"..... its just the sequence of events and its boring, although all the  events are very much bulimia relevant, because they have shaped me into the person I am now, buy nah ...

Then I realized ..
This is  exactly my problem ----- everything I do, I do with other people in mind. Will she like it? Will he mind? Will they get it? Does it make me look stupid in his eyes? Does it make me look worthless to her? What will she think? How will she get me? Am I sounding reasonable? Am I clear? Will they get me? If I dress this way will people think I am boring? If put this on, will people think I am out of my way? Should I be quite and say nothing? If I don't speak I am so lame, if I speak I am pathetic. I better not try this out because he will think I am beyond stupid, but better not try that out because she will look at me like what the fuck.

With these thoughts in my head I make decisions throughout the day.
5 thousands decisions made out of fear of what other people might think of me.
Day after day.
With every decision made out of fear of what other people will think of me it means I am not true to myself, but to them. To people out there, relevant or irrelevant to my every day life. 

It sucks. It truly sicks. And 5 years into rehab I still mind what people think of me.
It is getting easier as each day goes by, but still punish myself everytime I allow myself be true me -- "Now what will she/he think of you after they saw you walk this way? Heard you laugh oddly or say such and such thing....." my voices speak up.

It's so annoying because the entire rehab is about accepting myself for who I am.
Accepting the way I walk, the way I talk, the way I work, the way I drive, the way I think, The way I clean, the way I cook, I wake up, I make love,  I make friends.....

I just so so so sooooo badly want to let go of a burden of being suitable for everyone in every situation.
Fuck it, some people don't like me, I don't like bunch of people too. Some people are more organized than me and some are more active and some are better dancer and some are quieter and some are bubblier, and some are sexier and some are wiser.... But that ok, because they are just different.

I get it. I get it in theory.
I know we are all beautiful and gorgeous and creative and sexy and interesting and artistic and we smell nice.......but the difference between "The beautiful ones" and us is that they know they are beautiful, they are aware of their uniqueness and their strengths and we aren't. We are still so terribly afraid of who we are. 

The child inside us is still afraid of what mommy and daddy will think of us, and if you are as unlucky as I am then your mommy and your daddy are afraid of what their mom and dad will think of you, and their friends and the neighbors and people in the store and the whole village.....
So you grow up needing to please all the people in the entire universe so your mom and dad would get the approval that they did a good job raising a kid.

There is no way you can suit everyone. No way. And you shouldn't/
But I have that need to "be approved" by everyone ... the neighbors need to think that I am the best neighbor they have ever had. The mother-in-law must think that I am better daughter in law than her own daughter are. The kids in school must think that there is no better teacher in the world than me. Friend must think I am the awesomest and  they almost don't want to hang out with anyone else but me, because no-one is as good friend as me. The cat has to think I am the best owner in the world and the colleagues at work need to admire me and those that like me should look up to me and those that don't like me should feel like they should totally change their minds and start liking me. I mean the list goes on, I want to be perfect in every social situation at once!
Of course that means I am being hypocrite.

Underneath all of it I have this big desire to let go of that need and just be myself.

I feel the heaviness of this burden, I feel like there is a massively heavy brick that holds me down and I can barely breathe.
 I know if only I could take this brick off, I would feel such a relief and I would breathe normally.

So my mind gets it. My mind wants to fee itself, but then as I try to let go of this burden I seem to struggle. I keep coming back to it. I manage to let it go for a bit, I spread my arms and I honor my self, my life, my choices, my path and my purpose. I get it. And I feel it all. I am present in the moment and I am so grateful and don't feel any need to change anything. It's all so perfect and everything smells nice and a gray rainy day is the most beautiful color ever and the sun feels like its filling me up with light and colorful flowers and houses and cars and buildings seem like the most delicious fruits. Everything is just fine and I understand it all and I am thankful for my legs, my eyes, my belly, my hands, my face, my lips, my voice, my drive, my passion, my house, my cat, my friends, my family, my neighbors, my job, my challenges, my struggles, my yoga practice, meditation, food, books, furniture, people, animals, recovery, courage, writing, creating....
Then in the next moment "BOOM" .. its all gone. I don't see anything and I don't feel anything and most certainly I am not grateful for anything. Instead I whine and complain and nag and bitch and hate and envy and I wan't to change everything and everyone around me, and I wan't to change the way I breathe and I want it all RIGHT NOW!
Its so overwhelming.

Then once I catch myself drifting away I now exactly know what to do.....I need to sit still, go into my body, process the suffering and let it go all over again..... Until it comes back.

So this art of letting go is what recovery is all about.
It isn't a struggle, it is a practice. It is a creation. It is ART.

It keeps coming back but you must keep letting it go. Until it is completely gone.

And there is where I am at at the moment.

I am still letting go and it is still coming back.
It is not entirely gone.

The desire of approval of others, fitting in with everyone, being everyone's favorite and not allowing myself be myself, make mistakes and not be everyone's favorite is   my current piece of art I am creating right now.

During writing this post I went through tears and heartache. Through a massive melt down. Through several layers - from resisting the truth about myself to realizing I am the one suffering because of it to accepting my role and my responsibility in this story to letting go of the desire of perfection to accepting myself for who I am, a little bit more.

Now I have peace in my heart.
I removed that brick of my heart.
I took a breath.

I honor myself and I count blessings.

I hear the rain outside and it makes my heart sing.
I smell the fire and it warms my bones and I look around me and all I see is a house filled with love and hope, I see the cat that we rescued and I am thankful for having a big enough heart  to save her life. I see my husband and my heart is about to burst from the gratefulness I have for this man, I remember the conversation we had in the morning about loyalty for yourself and for your partner and the responsibility we have to live our lives with open hearts, letting our inner artists roar. He allows me to be honest with myself, with what I feel, although the truth isn't pleasant for him. He accepts it because he knows I am on a journey to recover from this madness. He knows I am still learning and growing and developing. He forgives (How, I don't know, but he does. He never holds anything against me.) I am so, so, so thankful for his massively big heart, wisdom, encouragement, love and friendship. Looking at him now I feel I want to have his child. I feel we will do good with bringing another life into this world because we will raise him well and we will make sure his heart is big and open and he/she will help the world become a little bit nicer place.
I feel that and the fears and doubts all drop.
I keep looking around, and I see this gorgeous rustic house of ours, beautifully decorated by our won hands, I take time to look at each peace of art and I understand they speak our story and I realize.....our life is good. I realize I don't have to be sporty and "hot" and cellulite free, I don't have to jog three times a week and eat greens when I don't feel like...I am a child of this universe and I am as beautiful as everyone else and I am not into sports because I am an artist and that is ok.
I smell bread I made and I am thankful for my mother who taught me  how to cook, who equipped me well for this grown up world kitchen wise. I see the yellow blanket we bought the other day because It is cooling down and my heart goes tinga-linga-ling, I see our yoga mats and I smile as I remember my yoga practice this morning, how I overcame the fear of sweating (heart raise and sweating always remind of panic attacks so I really struggle with sports, but yoga teaches me how to gently push myself towards the dark places and face the fears.) and I am happy.
I need nothing, because everything is here.
My cellulite on my butt has nothing on the peace in my heart right now.

And I know it will all come back, but right now I am able to be present in this moment, in my body and because of this peace right now I know that the very next time when the darkness comes back, I will be able to let it go a little bit easier...... until it is all gone.