Why I Have Anxiety Around Everyone I Meet

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Anxiety, blog, blogging, dogs, Family, Father, feelings, happiness, journal, making everyone happy, Nancy Napier, Parents, pets, relationships

I was laying in bed thinking. Why am I so anxious around everybody all the time? 100% of the time I am anxious around every person I come in contact with. Then something occurred to me as I was rubbing Joshy’s belly. Why don’t I feel love for my dogs? All they seem to me to be is – responsibility.

Nancy Napier

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ACA, blog, communicate by the unconscious, complex ptsd, Family, Father, Holy Spirit, mental illness, Nancy Napier, orb, recreating Your Self, relationships, unconscious symbolism

I really needed to talk to someone but it’s midnight and I don’t want to disturb anyone at such a late hour.

I’ve been reading books by Nancy Napier. She works with self-hypnosis and she knows how to recover from child abuse like no one I’ve ever come in contact with before. I read Recreating Your Self and bought 3 more books by her.

One exercise she suggested was when you’re feeling something disturbing, make your ability to dissociate work for you. Give the disturbing feelings to the child within (who already owns them anyway) so that you can become calm enough to be able to support the child  with these out of control feelings.

On being an ‘outsider’

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being an outsider, book, Family, family roles, lost child role, Nancy Napier, recreating Your Self

(from my journal)

I was reading “Recreating Your Self” (Nancy Napier) where it talked about (pg 211) children having roles around their parents needs and interaction with each other and I was struck with how I fit into the family. I didn’t have a role to play at all. I only took abuse and shut up about it trying to make myself (though not very successfully) invisible. I didn’t ‘help’ my parents at all. I was not a part of the family at all. I was, and always will be, an outsider. I have a memory that just came up about going with mom on one of her daily walks. It was night and we were passing by the Pendergast’s house. We could see into their front window and watched the family all gathered together for dinner. We were outsiders looking in. For some reason this stuck with me deeply because it demonstrated, in living color, how much of an outsider I really am. Right there, I was an outsider – looking in.