Church buildings. 1970-present. Frank Lloyd Wright. 20th century urban design.

Just thoughts.

Full circle

I'm grateful in a way that I don't have a lot of close friends with whom to talk about my emotional rollercoasters. I cycle so quickly that even my best friends would consider me mentally unstable and dismiss everything I have to say. Times like this I love the internet. It suddenly hit me why I have such a primal reaction to being put aside by the people I feel most attached to. So I googled "how to deal with abandonment issues in relationships." This is what I found.

AKeRU is a Japanese word that means “to pierce, to end, to begin.”
AKeRU is the name I’ve given to the five hands-on mental exercises that turn the pain of an ending into the beginning of positive change.

AKeRU makes its debut in both JOURNEY books.

AKeRU works with the natural flow of life process, enabling the individual to restore a sense of self, increase life, and find new love.

AKeRU recognizes abandonment as rebirth. It taps into your capacity for growth.

There is an AKeRU exercise for each stage of the abandonment process called S.W.I.R.L.

For the SHATTERING stage, there is an exercise for staying in the moment that helps you manage pain and enhance the quality of your life.

For WITHDRAWAL, there is a written dialogue that taps into your oldest and truest feelings – feelings that have been interfering from deep within your personality all along, and allows you to turn them around. If you make this exercise a part of your daily life, positive change is inevitable.

For INTERNALIZING, there is a visualization exercise that re-directs your psychic energy and helps you focus on your deepest dreams and needs, build toward real achievements, and change life direction.

For RAGE, the task is to use your rage energy to take constructive actions in your life. To help you do this, there is an inventory that helps you discover a powerful new voice, the Outer Child. Outer child is the part of the personality that acts out the inner child’s anger and frustration. Your Outer Child takes emotional hostages instead of forming healthy relationships. Outer Child is the culprit who sabotages your attempts to bring love into your life. The deconstruction of your Outer Child defenses allows you to change your behavior, resolve insecurity, and become ‘unstuck.’ (A 100 item Outer Child inventory is included in JOURNEY.)

For LIFTING, the task is to increase your capacity for love and make a new connection, which includes a Five Point Action Plan.

Really, it's an extension of grieving. When someone close to you dies, it's obvious to you and everyone why you're hurting, and there's conventional wisdom behind coping and expectations from society to give the sufferer time to heal. But for someone like me who is ultrasensitive to being ignored, even to a small degree, it triggers some of the same reactions as a person who is grieving the death of a loved one. It's like my brain can't tell the difference.

I had the idea that, in order to work through some of my scars from my marriage and other failed relationships, I might illustrate my emotions as I would in a children's picture book. That's tomorrow's goal, to put some of these raw feelings out into the world, in my own words, my own imagery.

In the interest of objectivity

I'm drinking rewarmed black coffee.
I had a bite of cottage cheese from Safeway, and it didn't taste right.
Paint it Black by the Rolling Stones just came up on my personalized playlist.
There's a hazy cloud hanging over the eastern half of the sky, blocking the sun.
I briefly forgot the name of the person I've been dating for 2 months.
I plan to accept the bids on 2 clothing pieces I listed on eBay, and then take them to the post office sometime today. Or maybe Monday.
I don't really want to go to my cousin's house tomorrow. Or do that aerial class I've been talking about. I definitely will go though. To my cousin's. Not that other thing.
Sleeping feels really good to me.
I can't resist picking up my fat cat when she's in an arm's reach.
I think a lot about how medications affect me.
I tell myself that no matter what is happening, I am still alive, but likely dormant.

Something I never predicted that I would love about my last job: the intake process. I was trained over a couple months' time (through some very clunky and slightly abusive methods) to simply "take in" what I was seeing in front of me. I had to compartmentalize my reactions into purely objective eyewitness accounts. Overall condition. Frame condition. Glazing condition. From there I could look closer and specify and assign labels to conditions. However it was very risky to even go so far as to label something a stain. "Stain" connotes that a relatively unintentional event occurred, one that must be quantified and given weight, at least when you're associating yourself with an insurance company that can choose whether or not their client is covered for this event or that. It was maddening sometimes. And honest questions to the more senior staff people were often met with irritated sighs. Nobody really wants to be in charge of making these assumptions, but that's what we were faced with for three hours every day. Sometimes you could easily attribute staining to the documented water loss that occurred on a specific date. Other times it wasn't so obvious. Was it even water that caused that stain? Could the painting have been hung near a table where food was served, and something splattered it? You have to love being a detective to do this type of work. Then present evidence to your internal judge, and spit out a verdict.

But the point is, there were some parts I did really love. Using my eyes to see the difference between cracks and craquellure. Putting it in the record. Discerning between rust and corrosion. Putting that in the record. It reinforced for me that my eyes were actually more accurate than a photograph. I put my nose right on the wood frames to determine if there was smoke odor, or mold odor. Sometimes Id sniff and sniff and detect nothing. Often it was so strong my face would contort. There's beauty in that instantaneous assessment and reaction. No subjectivity enters, It's not the time or place.

I'm probably glorifying this one aspect of my former job because it was so overwhelmingly unsatisfying on all other counts. But if I could hone in on one skill from the experience, it would be the one that gave me a chance to slow down my reaction time. Observe. Describe. Save and Exit.

Nevertheless

I've decided that today will be my last day at Colorado Art Restoration. I am grateful to Shannon for taking the time to train me, and giving me a chance to learn new techniques. But the reality of working here is that the chaos that comes with the sorting and checking-in of insurance losses prevents me from being able to focus on my strengths as an art conservator. I know without a doubt that I need to pursue a different path for my own sense of well-being.

Incidentally, I don't care for the way Mike greets me by touching my back while I'm working. It violates the boundaries of our business relationship, and it is totally unacceptable.

That's my schpiel. At 10 am I will walk out of that building with my head held high. I have too much pride to accept a paltry salary for work that is below my skill level.

Blue lights are shinin' over my life

Went down a rabbit hole just now when I pulled up some music that lit up the dark years of my 20's. Such sweet sadness as I recall those youthful, carefree times.

Maintenance

I've had some pretty big ups and downs since I abandoned my securities and came to Colorado to start over.

On Sunday I went on an 11.5 mile hike. Hard ups, fast downs, till I left feeling nothing but exhaustion. A perfect metaphor for what being on in your own feels like. Sure, I was in the middle of 60 other climbers, and that helped me stay motivated. But it was my own reserves and training that got me all the way through that thing.

Could be poor quality of sleep that's extending my recovery. I've been wrecked emotionally for days. Irritated, short tempered, unable to conjure up small talk or pleasantries. I'm worried I might never come back around.

Friends seem distant. My job feels foreign. My face doesn't look like me. Clothes feel weird. All I want is sleep and even that is hard to get. Can't read any more news. Tv seems empty. Books hurt my eyes. Alcohol makes my head throb. Running out of my meds. Don't know if I'll be insured in a month.

Feels like being lost in the mountains, a series of false summits and no downhill in sight.