It happens all the time

The child is the innocent one.

And yet the child gets blamed for making the parent feel bad. But it’s the parent that is making the child feel bad that causes the child to react making the parent angry.

So the innocent child, often minding it’s own business, is made to feel bad. Naturally it reacts to this only to bring more anger, criticism and unlovingness down upon itself making it feel even worse.

It’s a vicious circle, and a bad pattern to have established within you. For when it does you can’t help yourself doing things to make someone angry with you all so you can keep feeling bad. It’s such a horrible and terrible feeling of powerlessness, to know you’re doing it, and to know you can’t stop doing it. That the negative attention is all you will get, it’s all you can get, and all because it’s all you did get.

Be responsible for your own feelings.

The parent is full of repressed childhood feelings. The child pushes its parents buttons making the parent feel bad. The parent feels all sorts of bad feelings most of which it denies and won’t allow itself to feel. So what does it do? Instead of allowing itself to feel bad, it comes down hard on its child, making its child stop doing what it’s doing, all so it will no longer feel bad.

The child makes the parent feel bad so then the parent crunches it. The parent lies to its child saying all sorts of meaningless things telling its child why it can’t be as it wants to be.

The child doesn’t understand its parents deceitful behaviour and only feels worse, the parent causing its own child’s bad feelings.

The parent doesn’t live responsibly with its own feelings – staying true to them, expressing them and seeking the truth of them.

And we say to our child ‘I love you’. And we make our child believe it is loved, that it lives in a loving family, when all around it is lies.

The parent lies to its child because it’s lying to itself – about how bad it feels.

The whole parent/child relationship is fucked. It’s no good, no matter how ‘loving’ the parent might be. It’s fucked because no one is being or allow to be true. No one in it is freely expressing all the feelings they feel.

And one day perhaps we’ll allow ourselves to admit, accept and then speak about this truth. One day the parent will be able to stay on its side, allowing itself to feel bad and not taking its fear and denial of its bad feelings out on its own child.

One day… maybe…

Scared?

Why? Do you want to know? To know means you’re going to ‘go into your fear’, and that’s very scary.

How do you go into your fear?

By talking about it. By allowing yourself to feel as scared as you do. YOU SUBMITT TO YOUR FEELINGS OF BEING SCARED.

By submitting you are going into them. You are accepting them. You are allowing yourself to fully feel them. You are no longer rejecting and denying them. And this is how you heal yourself.

You submit to them as you speak about them. Let yourself be them. Do what you need to do: panic, yell, scream, hide – all whilst you emote your fear and bad feelings.

Long for the truth of why you are scared. Want to know what happened to you when you were young that made you scared – that made you feel the same bad feelings you’re feeling now.

Allow the truth to come up in it’s own time and way through your feelings. When it comes, as you are speaking about how bad you feel, it will dawn on you. You’ll see it – the door will open, you’ll have an awakening, a realisation – it will make sense.

Don’t use your mind to hunt around for reasons why during your early childhood you felt as you now feel. You’ll NEVER see or work it out with your mind. It should just be blank – you don’t know. And you can’t know as you’ve blocked it all out; you’ve stopped yourself from knowing. So long hard to know now. The truth will come. But it’s hidden behind all your fear.

Talk out your scared feelings – allow them to paint the picture.

Don’t stop talking – not until your fear has gone.

If it doesn’t go and no truth comes, and you’ve had enough, then just give up – admit defeat and talk about this, how angry and frustrated you feel.

Keep going, there’s always more to talk about.

Don’t blame the children.

Don’t blame the children; blame the parents. It’s the way children are treated by their parents that make them be as they are.

The little girl came with her parents and her younger sister to visit our neighbours house. Together with our neighbours two young children they all took to goading Marion and I into looking at them from where common ground joins the two properties. When we ignored them they came closer onto our property yelling out at us, calling us names, wanting us to pay them attention.

The more we ignored them the more frustrated they became and the closer to the house they came. And finally the little girl pick up a small rock and threw it at our window.

I went around to tell her parents what she’d just done, only to find the four parents sitting red-eyed in the living room oblivious of what their children were up to, drinking their bottles of red wine. Their front door was open and half the neighbourhood could have heard the goading yells of the children – but not these parents, or if they did, they didn’t care about it.

I wasn’t angry with the little girl, only with her parents and our neighbours. And all I wished was that the little girl had lived the truth she was feeling deeper inside herself, that being, that she threw the rock at her parents and called them all the names she’d been calling us. Because really it wasn’t us that she was frustrated with and needing the attention from, it was her own mother and father.

And I wished I could have joined her and thrown my own rocks at both her parents. But also really at my own parents, something that I could never do. I never realised that it wasn’t the world and other people I was angry with, it was my own parents.

Day 3 – my cold

How my cold makes me feel reveals how I felt as a young child. It’s quite amazing. Each time I feel bad and focus on how my cold is making me feel, I can relate to the bad feelings being exactly the same as how I felt so often during my childhood. Through it I almost feel like I’m in two realities at the same time: back then and now, being shown and connected by the same bad feelings. This being what I am meant to feel as I use my cold to help shed more light on the truth of my early life.

Last night I had another dream, and this one helped me, as I spoke about it to Marion, see more about my relationship with my brother and our family dynamics. I have already seen a lot to do with my relationship with him, yet as happens through my feeling-healing, every time I go over it again because of more bad feelings, I see deeper into it, more subtle aspects, gaining a greater understanding.

In my dream I separated from my brother refusing to do what he wanted, and I felt good for the first time seeing that his way was not mine.

Speaking about how the dream made me feel helped me to understand how so much more attention was focused on him, he being younger than I. He got away with doing things that I got punished for. He was the one to entertain the family; I was just there to help him. I was meant to look after him, to make sure he didn’t get into any trouble. It was all him and not me, making me feel I wasn’t important; he was, I wasn’t allowed to be an individual in my own right, but he could. I wasn’t equally the central focus, I was always in the background doing all I could to support him. He was more the leader, and yet they told me I was to lead him being the eldest. I was praised for being a good boy being his minder, and clung to the praise wrongly believing they did like me, and that I too was important, but it was all for the role I played and not for myself. So now as I strip my role away, that which my healing has forced me to do, I feel totally at a loose end, without knowing what do to without him to order around. And it helps me to see how fragile and false my feelings of power were, all just given to me by them, but nothing coming from my true self.

All of this helped to liberate feelings of sadness, and a deep feeling of hurt from a wound deep in the core of me: they loved him, not me; they wanted him, not me; they made a fuss of him, not me; all he did was important, even if it was bad, nothing I did mattered.

And these feelings explain so much to me about myself, and how I’ve conducted my life. I’ve felt more like an extra in a movie, sort of needed and wanted, but not too much, and definitely not to show up the main performers. Just so long as I stayed out of the way, didn’t demand too much attention, didn’t interfere with what was going on, then I was tolerated – just tolerated.

And I know if I were to tell this to my mother she would say I was wrong, that she loved me just as much as my brother but in a different way. And then she’d go on about how different we are, yet I now know it wouldn’t matter what she said. It’s all meaningless because the truth is: I don’t feel loved by her or dad or anyone else. So whatever is going on in her mind is her thing, and it’s not going on in me. Which then confirms all I feel, making me feel even worse, because I know she’s full of shit. And I know the truth of how my cold is making me feel is the truth of how she made me feel. And I know, because through these feelings I can remember; I can remember exactly how I felt back then. And it’s how I still feel as nothing has changed.

I am so grateful to my cold. It’s getting better now. Three or four days duration, compared to how my cold’s used to go on and on for a month or more, before I started to honour the bad feelings such sore throats brought up in me: before I wanted to know the truth of such feelings.

And I can’t tell you how much better it is to live this way, to allow my cold and all my bad feelings to have their say.  And to tell me just how it was in my early life, and just how it still is. And although I feel very miserable about feeling such bad feelings, feeling so unloved by my parents, still I would much rather feel such feelings than deny they exist. Because I now know I am feeling them, and once I have spoken about them to Marion, once I have admitted to feeling this way, then magically I no longer feel bad. I no longer feel the pain of such bad feelings – the pain of feeling unloved. And in fact I feel good, very good, as I feel more of my true self.

My feeling-healing brings out my sadness, along with my anger at being made to feel sad. My cold makes me feel, depressed and miserable, and together with my runny nose, sore throat, strange feverous head feelings, all being how feeling sad makes me feel.

And now that I am connecting this way with my cold – all through my feelings, it has no longer any need to help me, so it will go. The truth has been seen.

… and sure enough, the next day, it had gone, I was back to feeling ‘normal’.

Feeling bad is Good! It’s okay to feel bad.

Feeling bad is Good! It’s okay to feel bad.

Feeling bad is good. Feeling bad is good. Feeling bad is GOOD!

It’s not bad to feel bad – it’s good.

FEELING BAD IS GOOD. Very good!!!

And feeling really bad is also good. And feeling worse is even better.

It’s all very good! It’s okay to feel bad. Bad feelings are okay. It’s good to feel bad.

Bad feelings are GOOD!

It’s good to feel bad about feeling bad. Bad feelings are YOUR feelings. YOUR bad feelings have a right. A right to exist. A right for you to feel them.

Your bad feelings are a part of you. Bad feelings are good and they are your feelings!

ACCEPT THEM!

It’s okay to feel bad, there is nothing wrong with feeling bad. You might not like feeling bad, but it’s okay to feel bad.

You are allowed to feel bad. Bad feelings shouldn’t be dismissed.

Bad feelings already feel unwanted, why make them feel more rejected?

You are your bad feelings – if you reject them, you are rejecting yourself. Why are you rejecting yourself? Why are you rejecting your bad feelings? Is this how you want to life – rejecting a natural part of yourself? Is this how you want to live – rejecting your bad feelings?

Feeling bad is normal. We all feel bad. We all feel bad a lot of the time, even if we won’t admit it, or even if we’re not aware of it.

There are many bad feelings, all sorts of different bad feelings, and they are a normal part of you – of everyday life.

Bad feelings – your bad feelings – are to be welcomed. Bad feelings are to be wanted. Bad feelings are to be accepted.

Bad feelings are to be loved.

If you ignore or deny or dismiss or reject your bad feelings, what are you really doing? Denying, dismissing, rejecting yourself. Is this what you want to do?

You are your bad feelings – Your bad feelings are you.

Bad feelings have just as much right to life as good feelings.

Be true to your bad feelings – acknowledge, honour and accept them!

Accept your feelings. Accept yourself.

For more on feeling bad, see link to my free book over there on the right – Feeling bad is GOOD!

I am Crying

The little boy over the road is crying. He was crying when it was early and just getting light. He was crying a few hours later. And now, another hour later, he is crying again. And I know he will cry again during the day, because that’s what happens most days.

And this little toddler lives in a normal family, there is nothing unusual. I too lived in a normal family. I too cried most days. Only I no longer remember. But I did, how could I not, having grown up in a normal family.

I listen to him crying… he makes me feel like crying… but I am already crying… I have never stopped.

Feeling unloved – how does it feel?

You might feel unloved now. You may have felt unloved in the past as an adult, and it’s horrible to feel such bad feelings, but can you remember what it feels like feeling unloved as a young child?

Can you remember being with one or both of your parents and feeling them rejecting you, pushing you away from them, not wanting you, not loving you, making you feel bad – very bad?

Can you remember that feeling of dread, the intense fear, that terrible feeling of anguish with the thought that if they don’t love you, then what? What is going to happen to you? Is the black hole that’s waiting to swallow you going to get it’s way. That awful feeling like no other feeling that there will be NOTHING, as if you will cease to exist, or worse, that you will exist, but in complete and utter nothingness. Unable to do anything, unable to function, unable to do anything but feel bad, and so, so bad. Bad being comprised of every bad feeling you could ever possibly feel, and then more. Even more bad feelings, all those ones you know are out there just waiting to seize you and crush you out of existence.

And the misery. Can you remember the misery? Can you remember feeling so miserable and that is all there is. Nothing but a sea of misery with no land in sight. No safety, no security, no comfort, no caring, no nice feelings. You, totally alone, unwanted, uncared about, unloved at sea in wave upon wave of misery and despair. Can you remember how devastated you felt feeling such bad feelings? Can you remember how all you could do was breath? And if that required any effort, it too would have ceased. Can you remember being so nothing that you could only give up? Give up, give in, allowing it to be done to you with all fight taken from you. Defeated and depressed. So depressed. Life with nothing in it for you. Nothing to look forward to, nothing to get up for, nothing to like, no fun, no happiness – nothing. Nothing, nothing and then more nothing. And the misery.

The ever present misery. It being your only comfort, your only friend. You without anything, not one good feeling trapped in your life, surrounded by unloving people, so utterly alone. They are speaking to you, but you don’t hear them. You have been forced too far away. You have been shut out from them – walled into your own little space, all but entombed in your own misery. Can you remember those bad feelings?

And the pain… oh such pain. The ever present pain. Always the pain. Pain that never leaves you. You can’t exactly place where it is but it’s all through you – YOU ARE PAIN. It is with you in your nothingness, but it is not your friend. You don’t want it. They are trying to make you like it, and perhaps in time it too will become a friend, but like your misery it’s only a false friend, and it doesn’t love you. Nothing and no one loves you. You feel unlovable. You might wonder what is wrong with you, why do they hate you so much, why don’t they like you, especially when you’ve tried to be good and do what they said. But it’s no use. Nothing changes. Nothing gets better. The pressure might ease off for a moment, and then you might feel not so bad, but sooner or later back will come all those dreadful feelings. You hate those feelings. You hate your people for making you feel so bad. You don’t understand why they do, but you don’t understand anything anyway – they’ve made that quite clear. And you hate yourself for hating them. You want to run away, but where too, and you can’t, they are your parents, it’s your family. And if they don’t love you, who will? It’s a very bleak picture indeed.

Can you remember feeling so bad, and how often you felt so bad during your young life? Can you remember how the feelings just went on and on and on, how the pain was ever present even though you tried to numb it out of your mind? Can you remember how miserable you felt, how disheartened, how unloved?

And if you can’t. Don’t worry, as you will when you do your childhood repression healing. Then you will remember. Days and days, years and years of feeling all those bad feelings of feeling unloved will come back to you, and you will remember. And you will remember so well that you will never again forget.

Shocking parenting

Another little child crying in the supermarket. The noise threatens to lift the roof off. How can someone so small make such a big noise? What is happening to him? Why is he crying like that? What has been done to him?

He’s older than I thought, but about as miserable looking as I would have imagined. His mother is ignoring him, just continuing on with her shopping looking at the shelves while he screams. Other people are looking around wondering what’s going on, and possibly thinking what should they do to help. An older lady passing tries to console him and gives sympathy to his mother. The two women give each other that knowing look. It’s them against him. It was one against him – his own mother, but now it’s two. And of course it’s all his fault. It’s always the child’s fault – isn’t it? Yes, we all know that, particularly those people who are angry with the crying, nerve-testing screaming – why doesn’t he shut up for god’s sake? Some people might blame her, but I guess it would be only a few.

I blame her. I hate her. Can’t she see what she’s doing to her child? How can she be a mother and yet do what she is doing to him? She is making him cry and scream like that. He’s not doing it for the fun of it. It’s ALL her fault. It has to be, he’s too young to know about such things. But such women probably think that they are never too young, they are always trying to get their way, have things they shouldn’t have, always trying to put one over their parents. The poor parents, gee, what a bum deal it is being a parent.

It’s as if being a parent was forced on them. I can’t see any enjoyment in it for her. It looks like a battle, and I know they’ve been battling ever since he was conceived. It was always going to be her verses him, she didn’t want him for himself – only for herself. So he has had to fit in with her, and if he doesn’t then there is hell to pay. And we’re all listening to that hell. And that is what he is objecting to. It’s all her way, it’s always her way, and yet she would probably say the opposite. She is doing all a good loving mother can do – what else can she do? She being such a good loving mother.

Loving? Ha! What’s so loving about how she is treating him? What’s so loving about how he is being made to feel? And she can’t see it. She’s blind to how she is really treating him. I can see it. And I can see that other mother with her three little children and how differently she treats them, and how they are all happy and enjoying their time together, but not him.

He’s terribly alone, scared, feeling desperately unwanted – rejected and unloved by his own mother. And the worst part is this is not his first time feeling such things, many times he would have felt them. And he is not alone. Just about every time we go to the supermarket there is a child like him. But such children don’t know each other, they only feel so very very alone.

No one loves them, no one cares about them, no one makes them feel wanted. They can’t have a life, not one they want to live their way. They have to put themselves aside, give up and submit to the greater power. They have to accept they feel powerless and then turn into false people putting on a false front trying not to show the world how pathetic they feel.

His crying goes on and on. How long can a little person cry for? I don’t hate her anymore. She’s fucked, he’s being fucked up by her, and what the hell – we’re all fucked in some way. Those happy children in the other aisle will probably be going through their hell, throwing their tantrums, later in the day or tomorrow. Does any child escape from the torture?

I didn’t. I am him; he is me. I was treated the same way. I was there all for my mother, nothing was for me, although she always told me it was all for me. But I never felt it was, and those feelings don’t lie. I know what he’s feeling because that was how I was made to feel. But I had forgotten all those bad feelings, repressed them, blocked them out of my life. But they all came back as I started to heal my childhood repression.

I’m that little boy. He’s not alone, only he doesn’t know it yet. But knowing others have suffered like you have doesn’t do anything for you – not when your in it, not when your deep in your pain. Not when you’re deep in your pain of not feeling loved, and only feeling hurt from being rejected.

Growing up, forming in life feeling rejected and unwanted – unloved – so many times is not good for your self-esteem, nervous system or anything else. No one wants to feel fucked. I know I sure don’t.