6 Painful Core Issues for ACONs

I came across this video a while ago. I watched some of it and then had to stop because it was so hard to listen to that particular day. He hit the proverbial nail right where it counts with this information. It hits home for sure.

I was able to start it over today and I am apparently in a much better place emotionally now, since I was able to make it through all of what he said.

One thing that makes it tough to get through, is that it’s intellectual info. Most I know, but I have no problem listening again or hearing the info presented in different ways. Also, it is helpful knowing it intellectually. That’s where the healing starts. But I very much adhere to the fact that just because you know what’s wrong cognitively, that does not mean you can just be and do differently.

I’ve understood the fucked up nature of my family for decades now and just knowing that, and knowing and learning how I’m a product of that, has yet to make a difference in my programming.

This is an informational video and that’s good. But he is also self-promoting…which is OK too. I think it’s a good idea for therapists who know how to help ACONs let themselves be known. However, it’s frustrating knowing that there are therapists out there who actually finally get it and understand the ACON struggle and not be able to financially utilize that help.

Despite the negatives I point out, I’m still posting it. I would like to refer back to it and it could help others too with some more insight. Besides, sometimes, we can find our own answers and therapize ourselves when we know what it is that’s wrong or toxic.

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Seeing My Mother

I was in some building. I think I was interviewing for a job where all the women… and they were all women, wore suits. Even the meeting room, which contained big tall fir trees in pots, wore colorful tree size women’s suits.

It was a not so clear message and I was out of place. The meeting room filled with one by one with women in suits.  I didn’t dress anything like them. I was in a skirt at least, not something you normally find me wearing. It was a dark teal(ish) skirt and blouse set, made of a rayon type material. Even in that I didn’t feel comfortable. I remember thinking how ugly some of those suits were and dreaded the idea that I’d have to wear a suit too if I were to work there.

After the meeting, I was in the large, spacious and vast lobby, getting my belongings together and putting them into a back pack. A young woman, with dark straight hair, which she wore in a pony tail, walked in and recognized me. She said hi from near the door while I was a few yards away from her at a table. I said hi back, but I had confusion on my face.

I asked her if I knew her and she reminded me of who she was. (I don’t remember what she said about that.) She approached me and said, “We might as well talk while I wait for your mom.”

“Oh,” I said, “Then I’m leaving now.”

This woman didn’t know the situation between my mother and me and although I feel shame and don’t openly talk about it (except for here and in therapy), in that moment and in this dream, I didn’t care if she knew.

She asked me why and I told her, “Because I don’t speak to my mother anymore.”
With that, I put my back pack over my shoulders and walked to the door.
Just as I went for the door knob, the door opened from the outside and there I stood face to face with my mother.

I brushed past her and bounced down the front steps of the building and walked down the walkway leading to the sidewalk and rounded the corner a few feet down the sidewalk. My mother then asked me a question:”Did you hear ___________? (I’m not clear now what she asked, but it was about a mysterious sound.

I turned to face her from the sidewalk, standing by the grass that belonged to the bldg I just left. I answered her, she didn’t hear me, so I cut across the grass to get closer to answer her again.  I also felt the hope that this would turn into more of a meaningful conversation.

I answered, “No, I had not heard them.”

She turned and walked through the door.

I turned and started down the sidewalk toward home.

No More Salads for Me (At Least for Now)

I know this is way off topic of my blog but I just felt compelled to write this.

The last three salads I’ve made myself and eaten have not agreed with me at all. I’ve had some not so nice digestive reactions and it doesn’t feel good at all.

My salads consist of a had of romaine hearts as the base, then I just add a few other vegetables. Lately it’s been cucumber, which I left off tonight. I wanted to test and see if that alone was the culprit. Nope. I still had to run to the bathroom.

I must be a glutton for punishment.

Tonight was minimal for the fixins. I had some olives and I used a pickle, something I never put on my salads. I used up the cheese I had and the dressing was my homemade mayo. I also added a tiny bit of hot sauce and some pickle juice to make it a bit more interesting.

I have never used hot sauce, pickles or pickle juice on a salad before, so those things are not necessarily what is making me sick. In fact I used the hot sauce on a pasta dish I heated up the last couple nights, left over from B’s Christmas with his family and I was fine. So it’s not the hot sauce. I have also eaten quite a few of the pickles I used for the salad tonight too and have had no problems. As is the same with the cheese. I have also used my homemade mayo with burgers and have had no issues, so I’m sure it’s not that either.

I pretty much only eat the olives on salads so they could be the problem. But I think the main culprit is the lettuce.

So I will be taking a vacation from lettuce for a while. And what better time than in the winter time when the temps have been in the teens. I need to be eating warm, cooked foods anyway.

Ugh, I feel pretty gross right now.