Why I Really Thought God Hated Me…Part III

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Continued From “Why I Really Thought God Hated Me…Part II”

In 2011, my heart was slowly started to beat again. Fighting and taking medication for insulin-resistance knocked about 20 pounds off of me by that time. I was feeling a little better. And I met somebody. It was such a relief to connect with someone who had a like-mind and spirit, to know that I was still desirable, that I tried not to pay attention to the red flags. But I had been doing my work and I was healing, so I couldn’t put a veil over my eyes like I did in the past. My parts were stronger now, had more clarity, loved me too much and after 7 months, that relationship ended. Initially, I went into panic mode. “Oh no, am I going to mourn him as long as I mourned my Ex before him?” “Is this breakup going to cripple and stall me the way the one before him did?” I was just getting my creativity back. I was writing again. I was slowly acting again. I was going to have to go through this shit all over again? I was devastated at the thought. I did go into a funk after the break up. But something odd happened – I only mourned it very deeply for about two weeks. This was unusual for me, because I’ve taken break ups hard in the past. After two weeks, however, I just couldn’t really get my hip into being sad over it. I examined the data and knew that, that was not a connection that was meant to be on that level. I got what I needed from it and I let it go. And that was the first real testament to the work that I was doing. I had no way of intellectually knowing how that was going to play out. But I had been working tirelessly on healing my inner parts so much so that SELF was able to step in and took care of it for me.

During this time, although I started getting better, I had a huge set back – my producing partner and one my best friends, Rod Pitts, had died at the age of 37. I went into a complete panic mode and the panic attacks hit an all-time high. I became compulsive about illness and disease. Every time a family member got sick, I panicked. And looking shit up on the internet didn’t make it any better. Someone connected to one of my family members was very insensitive and cruel about it. She didn’t understand what was going on, probably didn’t care and attempted to attack and shame me when one of my panic attacks happened in her presence. It was actually my grandmother who recognized that the attacks were very largely due to my friend mysteriously getting sick. And once again, I rolled up my sleeves and begin to work tirelessly through that pain with my facilitator. And my heart beat sped up even more as I released the pain and gave myself permission to really mourn his loss.

With Rod’s death and my latest breakup, I really had no desire to date. But I did have a strong desire to create. I fiend to be back on stage again, to be producing another movie, to be writing. I wanted to give “Tricks” its final push into the world so that I could release it. I was anxious to get “The People Inside My Head” off of the ground. My heart begin to beat faster. Soon enough I found myself waking up daily excited about life. It was slow, it was cautious, but it was there. I knew I wasn’t dead. I wasn’t a zombie.

Then another set back. A group I was a part of had issues with how I handled the promotion of an event we were producing. One of the members approached me in what I believed to be a very disrespectful and condescending way. I was hurt, shocked, embarrassed and disappointed in myself. If he approached me this way, it could only be because the others had discussed their issues about me amongst themselves, I thought. The thought of that was very humiliating. How could I have dropped the ball on this and have an entire group hating me? In the past, I would have probably sucked up the email and tried to appease the person who was upset with me. But that was no longer who I was, my parts were working themselves out in the background and I didn’t want to do that anymore. I couldn’t. I was a different person. A person who ran to the roar instead of away from it. So I emailed this person back and called them out on what I believed their intentions were and set some very firm boundaries with how to approach me if there is conflict in the future. And I held myself accountable for the part that I played and my part only.

I was very hurt about what happened, very disappointed in myself. I was doing all of this work, how could I drop the ball on something so important where so many people were counting on me? My facilitator reminded me that shit happens and that’s how I learn from it. He commended me for holding myself accountable for my part while not taking on the burdens of others. And that’s when I made a decision I would leave the group at the end of the year. I learned a lot about choosing my time wisely and not over staying my welcome in any situation. And not to be so hard on myself when I mess up, because I will mess up. And shit does happens.

Click Here to Read Part 4 of “Why I Really Thought God Hated Me.”

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