Back to the Drawing Board, or Just Back?

Well, it’s been nearly a month since I posted. Does that mean Plan B is out and it’s time to think up Plan C? Not just yet.

The reason why I’ve been out of action for nearly a month is very simple; I took a sabbatical from my newfound life of enjoyment and abundance, and headed back to Hell for a while. I didn’t do it on purpose, it just happened when I confronted my deepest-rooted issue (please Santa let this be my deepest-rooted issue, because I don’t know if I can withstand anything more painful than this one), namely my feelings about my father, and all the baggage I’m carrying around because of the way he has (mis)treated me and (mis)guided me through my whole life. I guess I’ve known for a long time on some level that he’s a major part of the pain and suffering I’ve experienced throughout my life through all those years of depression, but I have now isolated him and his attitude towards me and his EasterBunnydamn (I’m mixing it up and interchanging “God” with other fictional characters) religion as the source of everything. Literally everything that has gone wrong in my life – every bad decision I’ve made, every bad experience I’ve had that I’ve brought upon myself rather than being the result of genuine misfortune – leads back to him. He didn’t do it on purpose of course, and if I wasn’t a highly sensitive person I might have weathered it better… but he did, and I am, so I didn’t.

I triggered this episode by taking myself way, way, waaaaayyy out of my comfort zone and sitting down with my dad for a long heart to heart, which I expect he found overall enjoyable and positive, where I filled him in on all the things I’d been doing in the second half of last year, such as the online course that enabled me to get out of depression, this blog, my new business, and other things. I explained I was feeling a lot better and making real progress with my depression (ironically I was unaware that I was about to go back in, triggered by that very conversation, but it still holds true as I’m handling this severe episode far better than I have done in the past), and feeling confident about getting back on my feet financially in the near future, one way or another. I apologised for the series of outbursts of rage I’ve had over the past few years, where I’ve totally lost my temper and just let rip with almost no restraint and torn strips out of him and my mum, deservedly so particularly in his case, but still it wasn’t justified to say how I felt and what I thought in the way that I did. He seemed to be heartened and said how pleased he was that I’m doing better. He managed to accept my apology and only needled me a little. It was all very pleasant and civilised. I went all the way and actually said the words “I love you” and gave him a hug, something I haven’t done for many years as we don’t say those words or hug in our family. My Tooth Fairy, it was so uncomfortable for me, and I think that part probably was for him too. But that was my aim and I achieved it.

After the talk had ended, I felt really bad. The next day I felt even worse. My functioning began to wind down. I stopped working out. I let go of the idea of writing and reading for a few days. I stopped doing anything with my business. Healthy eating went out the window and a tsunami of chocolate bars and biscuits poured in. I stopped doing my daily challenges on my course. Within a few short days I had collapsed into deep suffering, sinking into that place of terrible anguish, and it was absolutely clear that my dad had triggered it. It was totally familiar. It was the same pain I’ve felt for over twenty years in and out (mostly in, sometimes for years without respite) of depression. And that was when I realised. It’s all caused by my dad. He is the root of it all.

I had thought I’d gotten to the root of it when I finally stopped abusing myself and then made peace with myself for just how horrifically cruel I had been to myself for many years. But now I realise that my dad is the one who taught me to be hard on myself and critical of myself and judgemental of myself, which was the foundation upon which I built my self-torture chamber. So now, hopefully, I’m at the source of all of my pain and misery and suffering, and it’s caused by all that I’m holding onto concerning my dad, all the hate and anger and bitterness and resentment and disappointment and sadness and despair and rage and envy (of other men who have warm, kind, loving fathers who want to know them and truly believe they can do anything they set their minds to).

I have a plan to work through and let go of all of this baggage that has been weighing me down my whole life, and I improvised and implemented a part of it yesterday, which has freed me up enough to function again today – so although I’m still in depression, I’m not as deep, I’m coming back up nearer the surface. This is the first day since my last post that I’ve felt like I could function in a proactive way, and here I am, writing this entry.

So Plan C isn’t necessary just yet. There’s a reason for the long pause between posts, and it’s an actual reason and not an excuse. As I work through these issues and get back to full strength, I’ll see how my discipline is with daily reading and writing, which may be sporadic this week and perhaps the next, as I face the horrendous pain inside me and attempt to release it. My hope is that once I’m out the other side of this, Plan B will be successful.

And If not, I will carry on through the alphabet until I find the letter that works…