~ Posted 7th March 2018 ~ Just journaling

Thursday, 1st March
The doom and gloom anxiety from the day before continued all day… most uncomfortable, but keeping busy really helps.
 
Friday, 2nd March
A day of sadness with a sense of deep loss depression, even though I hadn’t lost anyone.  My mind is still unable to put triggered emotions into perspective… it’s something I need to work through when this happens, by keeping busy and working on making sense of not only my emotions, but the reality of how they came about (what triggered them and why?) and taking stock of where I really am in my present adult-world scenario, then working on what to do about it all in order to keep working in the direction of emotional intelligence and healing from my past… my life quest!
 
Healing is an “active” process… one can’t just sit back and hope it will just happen… and we can’t just “let the past go” as if it never happened and our triggered reactions to it today are all just an illusion!  There will never be any healing is we don’t acknowledge our pasts and actively work to understand ourselves by tapping into our realities to help make sense of it all.  Thus, it is important to work on ways to fix what has been broken in us, or at least learn how to soothe old wounds and learn to live on in spite of them.
 
We cannot allow the abusers, bullies and controllers of our past to continue to rule over our way… We have to take charge and rise above what was, to allow what could be and what should be to take over and prevail.
 
Saturday, 3rd March 2018 ~ Debilitating flashback trigger
On this morning, I had to leave my home to go pay my municipality and telephone bills at the Post Office and post a replacement book there for as student who had lost hers. 
 
As I was walking towards the Post Office from my car, a weighty man leaving the grocery store tripped and fell flat on his face.  Two people in front of me rushed towards him to help him.  I also wanted to go help, but as I saw him fall, my heart began to pound fiercely and I was overcome with a surge of tears from inside of me… I wanted to burst into tears. I knew that seeing this man falling was a trigger to yet another flashback from my past.  Being a small child and seeing my mother collapsing and fitting… seeing her being rushed off to the hospital in an ambulance so often… this must have created the sudden deep and overwhelming surge of inner tears.  I knew right there and then, that if I was the only person there, I would not have been able to help the man without crying as I tried.  I was literally incapacitated by a feeling of real fear and dread and a desperate need to let the trapped tears out… I was trapping them, because I knew that a 61-year-old woman bursting into tears because a stranger fell would probably look ridiculous… and I had a responsibility to get my posting and payments done.  I desperately wanted to run to help the man, but as the two people were there already, a man lifting him back to his feet and a woman checking that he was alright, I gave myself permission to carry on with what I had come to do.
 
I walked into the post office and had to wait for two people to be attended to there first.  I felt so anxious and uncomfortable as I forced the tears to stay inside.  Twice I walked to the door to see if the man was still there… he wasn’t… but I needed some kind of closure… I needed to know that he was going to be ok.  I felt physically ill in not knowing and it took a good while before my racing heart settled down again… (suddenly thrown back into my past and then gradually surfacing from it again).
 
Fear of losing my car again
From the Post Office, I drove to the PostNet about three kilometres from my house, to post a student’s study pack there.  I also needed to go and do a little shopping at the same centre, because I had received my salary and we desperately needed groceries again. (we had only gotten through the month, once again, due to the kindness of dear friends and family) 
 
As I arrived in my car outside the Post net, I waited for a man to pack his car from the trolley and drive out so I could take his parking.  I was aware of a white car, stopped and waiting behind me.  I wondered why they never drove past me to find another parking.  When the man finally drove out of the parking, driving through another open parking in front of him, I drove through the first parking space to the second one so I wouldn’t have to reverse out when I left… much easier for me.
 
I sat in the car for a few minutes, sorting through my papers and bag to make sure I would find my card easily once inside the shop, etc.  I was aware that the same people, had taken the parking behind me and had not gotten out of their car yet, but I didn’t let it bother me too much, other than to make sure I had the handle of my bag wrapped tightly around my arm before climbing out of the car.
 
As I was passing the white car, filled with five men, the driver asked me if I wanted to sell my car… a flashback again to a similar incident that happened in my past… before my last car was stolen!  I responded with a “No, I’m not, but thank you for your patience while I was waiting for the parking”… I can’t remember what he said after that… I know he said something else about my car.  I felt so uncomfortable walking away from my car, knowing that they were right there behind it, but as I walked away, they reversed out and drove away slowly. 
 
Once inside the PostNet, I found myself constantly glancing back at my car.  I wanted to ask the people inside the PostNet to watch it for me… but there were a lot of people in there, so I felt shy to. After PostNet, I needed to do my shopping. 
 
All the way through the shopping, I found myself worrying about my car… would it be there when I went back to where it was parked?  I also felt “watched”… so kept the handle of my back wrapped tightly around my arm all the way and guarded my bag between myself and the trolley.  I was aware of how hypervigilant I was feeling, and knew that it was a “past reflex”… tried to distract myself from it, but it was too strong for me… I was worrying too much about if my car would still be there.  I was also angry with myself.  Why hadn’t I taken the other car’s licence number?  I should have asked someone if they knew what kind of car it was… etc. 
 
Walking back towards where my car was parked, I tried to stare through all the other cars to see if the blue of mine was still there… it was ridiculous… looking to see if there were people standing around… could it be them… etc.
 
I was so relieved to see that my car was still there, and once safely inside with locked doors, I found myself searching the other cars around me to see if that white car and its occupants were waiting and watching me… Would they follow me home?  I felt extremely unsafe… driving home, I checked all around me up and down the roads I was crossing, in front and behind… were they following me home?
 
My world has never been a safe world… it reminds me of the poem I once wrote… I’m sure I’ve shared it before, but here it is again:
 
TORTURED SOUL!
© All Rights Reserved ~ www.pattyskeys.co.za
 
I am a tortured soul wondering lost
In a vast wasteland of my forgotten past!
Catching glimpses of
“It’s” burning scorching plains,
Where hope is lost in the endless torment,
Of billowing black smoke and scattered ashes.
Nowhere to turn!
Nowhere to hide!
Nowhere to run!
For each road keeps bringing me back
To where all this pain belongs!
I cannot escape its blazing snare!
This endless punishment –
For some dreadful sin that I never committed!
It was not even mine!
Yet, I must suffer this burning hell!
That will not stay with the one who created it!
The one who deserves it most!
ABUSER!  RAPIST!  THIEF!
You stole my childhood!
You stole my freedom!
You stole my happiness!
You stole my health!
You stole my friends!
You stole my portion of LOVE!
And I am forced to live on in your land of horror!
While you are free to go on with your evil ways!
Who else have you already sent here?
Who else knows how terrible this lonely anguish feels?
 
~ Panayiota
(Sunday, 28 October 2007 – stepfather abuser)
 
"Death of A Thousand Cuts: Young People and Trauma" ~ Amanda Robins
https://www.therapyroute.com/article/eBeAfHtXsYpvZbTb6
 
THE FIRST CUT IS ALWAYS THE DEEPEST
© All rights reserved ~ www.pattyskeys.co.za 

Little girl, once innocent and sweet
Ripped apart for his panting need
In tear soaked emptiness... left to bleed
Forever, drifting on a far and distant plane
Never to return again
Lost but still alive... she will survive!

~ Panayiota

I was a very tortured soul for many years of my life, but today, I’m still moving forward… handling situations like these I share on my blog, far better than I ever did before Logotherapy found in in my 50’s, so, even though I still have these triggered moments and struggles, I live with such gratitude for how quickly I am able to surface after each episode and still keep on keeping on. 

Regardless of the struggles that still persist, I love my life today and would never want to go back to what it was before… and I believe that there’s still more growth and healing to come for me, so that spurs me forever onward and upward… I will never, ever give up!

I am truly grateful for my life as it is today…

Thank you for sharing with me.

~ Panayiota
​
Blog posts to come… I still want to share news about how my garden has blessed us this season, and I also have a few more interesting Logotherapy Dream Interpretations (LDI’s) to share… I hope to find time soon.  Please watch out for those.

~ Posted 5th March 2018 ~ Just journaling…
 
Thursday, 22nd February
As mentioned before, I went to have my eyes tested on the 22nd February and on the same day, an exhausting but interesting visit to the Traffic Department where a naughty bird pooped on me in the icy-windy waiting tunnel!
 
Friday, 23rd February ~ A sleepover with my three far away grandchildren.
Not yet recovered from the day before, (such outings usually wipe me out for a good day or two)… my oldest son called to ask if I’d take the children for the weekend.  I’m not one to easily part with my “catch-up” time, but this was my three far away grandchildren he was asking me to spend time with… no chance I’d say no to that wonderful opportunity!  Of course, it scared me… I’ve never had any of my grandchildren stay over, and these three I have never really gotten to know as well as the other three, because I don’t see them as often as I’d love to. 
 
Would I be able to cope?  What would I do with them? How would I entertain them?  What would I feed them?  I was totally out of money being one of the most financially draining months we’ve had in a long time… but… I said yes!
 
My son arrived with the children in the evening and dropped them off.  It was so lovely to see him again and to feel his love blessing my heart once more.  The children are so huggable and truly good children.  What a pleasure to take care of, but still, the anxiety of caring for three children I’ve never had stay over before in my little home was pretty stressful. 
 
I honestly believe that the inner child, “Patty” part of my self, struggles when there are children around.  There is definitely a flashback of messed up emotions and fears from my past that happens. 
 
When I was a small child, I had to also become a “little mommy” … not only taking care of my own mother whenever she fell down fitting, or returned weak and needing nurturing care from the hospital, but also a little mommy to my own younger sister.  I think that not always being able to protect my little sister from harm and hearing her, being beaten and her wailing cries, affected me a lot when I was little.  I became a fierce protector (internally) and took much of the punishments for her, but failed so often in keeping her safe, because we were almost the same age, with only 11months between us.  For this reason, I believe that being around small children today, in a position of responsibility, is extremely stressful for me.  I am used to my other three nearby grandchildren coming to me for aftercare three times a week now… we have a set routine that I have become comfortable with, so, that doesn’t stress me out so much anymore… unless they are tired and cranky… then I don’t do so well anymore.
 
I find it hard to stay in my adult personality when the responsibility becomes too big and I find myself not coping too well.  Sadly, because of this struggle I have, I would not allow my children or the neighbours children to get angry or to fight with each other… I think I did them a huge disservice, because they could not learn how to deal with conflict as a result.  I just hope and pray that it does not affect their adulthood too negatively. 
 
When my three far away grandchildren arrived, all I had on the stove was literally, boiled chicken bone and cabbage soup.  My daughter had invited my son and I to lunch the weekend before, and she asked me to cut the two chickens into portions for her convection cooker.  I cut the chickens in such a way that the ribcages were left behind.  She didn’t want those so gave it to me in a bag with the wings and added the cleaned growing stem ends of the zucchinis she was going to throw away.  I told her that I’d be happy to take them, because when boiled in a soup, they taste just fine and are perfectly edible.  There is so much good food that we throw away, just because we never learned to eat it.  Desperate times call for desperate measures, and my son and I have learned to eat all sorts of things that most people would otherwise discard.  One day I might expand on this subject in another blog post.
 
Anyway, I had thrown the bones, wings and zucchini bits into a pot, added some herbs and spices and a chopped-up cabbage and boiled that.  When my three far away grandchildren walked in, they went on about the delicious smell, so I offered them some and they gobbled it up as if it was the best feast ever!  What a pleasure.  I’d made enough to store some in the freezer for another day, so there was more than enough for us all.  I was really surprised at how they enjoyed that soup… not in the least bit fussy.
 
The children were amazing… I found, that because I was already stressing internally, it was hard to relax myself with all the jumping around and constant voices… and with the cartoon noises on the television in the background.  Too much constant background noise gave me a sense of panic, but eventually they all went to sleep, my son arrived home from work and I was able to go to sleep at last.
 
Saturday, 24th February ~ Struggling day
I only slept about 6 hours that night, and Saturday was a struggling day for me.  I’d put a message on our family WhatsApp group page the day before, hoping for some rescue… somewhere other than my cramped little house to take the children to.  Without money at the time and my youngest son working that weekend, I couldn’t think about anything much beyond my walls… feeling too insecure about venturing out with the three children on my own.  They were amazing though… they absolutely LOVE colouring and I had enough colouring books and crayons to keep them happy for ages. 
 
When I went to bath in the morning, my oldest granddaughter let me know that she would wash our morning dishes.  I nearly fainted.  What 11-year-old offers to wash dishes without any prompting… I was delighted and felt so proud of her and how lovely she is growing up. 
 
The stress of the visit to the eye specialist and the shock of how much that cost and the worry of having had to borrow the money and how to pay it back… and added to that, the stress of the traffic department… out of my comfort zone for a day… and the grandchildren surprise… too much excitement and I ended up completely overwhelmed by it all…
 
So, on this day, I ended up with an awful migraine the whole day long.  I did my best to keep it from the children, but I was finished.  I felt so ill all day, also with that horrible fine trembling feeling throughout my body… I call it a vibration feeling, and also that it feels as though my body has been poisoned.  I hurt all over… even a light touch on my skin hurt.  I tested my blood sugar which I do rarely these days… it was normal, so all I could think was that perhaps, the stress of the last few days had triggered another acid/alkaline imbalance and it was once again, the stress-gout threatening.  I was right… by the afternoon, I was aching more all over, but especially in my shoulders and left foot.  I took a Colchicine tablet (for gout) immediately and repeated them twice to averted another full-on acute gout attack.
 
Part of the day, I escaped into writing the blog post, “A Bird Pooped on Me” while my grandchildren played, coloured and watched the television in the lounge.
 
My daughter and middle son responded to my plea for something to do with the children.  My middle son apologised for not being able to help, which was understandable, because he was writing and examination that day and needed to study, but my daughter, who was moving into her new home invited the children and I to come help her… if that isn’t the sweetest thing, I just don’t know what is.  Who in their right mind would invite children over when they are moving… but my daughter did… she showed her genuine love for them and her understanding also for our situation and we all had a lovely time together while my son in law washed the carpets of their new home with a carpet cleaner that they had borrowed from my kind sister in law.
 
My oldest granddaughter and I were able to help my daughter unpack boxes into cupboards, while the younger two children lay on a blanket outside on the beautiful green lawn in the shade and coloured in… colouring in seems to be their thing and my grandson occasionally got lost in playing with the little cars he brought with him… bless them all.
 
That night, I took ¼ of a sleeping pill, knowing that if I didn’t sleep, I would more than likely be in a worse state the next day than I had been already, and I could not allow that.
 
Sunday, 25th February
I did sleep well thankfully and felt better when I woke… slightly washed out, but at least I was functioning, so I took the children to church with me for an hour, for something different to do with them.  They were as good as gold there and I felt so happy to show them off to my friends.  When we arrived home, my oldest son did an EFT into my account, saying that it was for me to pay off some of what I’d borrowed for my glasses and also, to spoil the children with.  That was so kind of them and such a wonderful surprise.  As the children had only eaten some of the frozen loaf of bread I had in my freezer, some outdated biscuits, eggs and the chicken bone and cabbage soup since they arrived, I did indeed take them out for a treat and it made me so happy that I could. 
 
My son and daughter in law arrived around lunchtime and after a lovely chat and some photos, they left.
 
Suddenly… my house was so quiet and still again… it felt surreal… part of me felt really disconnected… I went straight to my computer… to work.  The only thing that helps me to keep-it-together at times like that.
 
My Greek Mother’s Love Day
As I sat at the computer… feeling distant, I glanced over at my calendar and noticed that it was my beloved Greek (step) mom’s Love Day… the day she passed away in 2014.  Well, that was the end of me… between the children leaving, and suddenly really missing them and my Greek mother, it was the last straw… I almost instantly went into the deepest depression and spent the rest of the afternoon crying and crying, yet still working through the tears… grasping at a connection with something other than my internal pain.
 
My beloved Greek mother who I will never forget and will always be grateful for and love with all my heart… she was the only person who ever consistently called me by my own real name, Panayiota, and she believed in me when nobody else in the world did... she always made me feel completely welcome… belonging… and she helped me to believe in myself, my life and in living.  I don’t know where I’d be today if it wasn’t for this great woman and the exemplary example she was for my life. Thank you ma… I will always, always love you.

I cannot look at my Greek mother's eyes without tears welling in my own.  They say that one's eyes are the windows to their soul... and in her case, I know that this is true... I see and feel so much love when I look into her eyes in this photo.
 
Wednesday, 28th February
I received a WhatsApp message from a closest friend… all it showed was a picture of her dear husband asleep in a hospital bed with tubes and wires all over… with the text, “Sleeping peacefully!”
 
I don’t know why, but the shock of seeing my dear old friend, obviously very ill in hospital was too much for me.  In that moment, I didn’t know if I was being told that he had passed away.  My youngest son was sitting in the office with me when I received the message and was witness to the shock I experienced just then… I burst into tears and my heart ached for my friends. 
 
I replied to the message with, “Oh no, what happened?  Are you alright”, and when my friend responded, she reassured me that they were fine and I realised that I’d received the message incorrectly in my mind and that her dear husband was in fact, sleeping peacefully. 
 
But unfortunately, the initial shock messed with my head and for the rest of that day, I was struck by the most awful “doom and gloom” anxiety as I call it.  It’s such a terrible feeling… I liken it to the “Chicken Licken” story, where Chicken Licken panicked, because he was so sure that the sky was going to fall down.  I cannot even explain how horrible that anxiety feels… it’s the kind of anxiety I could easily choose to escape from… the kind that alcohol or drugs would relieve.  Of course, I would not turn to alcohol or drugs, but I do understand completely how some people do, so I knew that I just had to stay with my work until I could get myself through it.
 
My friend has been keeping me updated since, and thankfully, her dear husband is recovering from his surgery well with his indomitable spirt and his great sense of humour leading the way to his healing.
 
Thank you for sharing with me today… I still have more catching up to do here and hope to finish the catching up really soon. 
 
~ Panayiota Ryall

~ Written 4th March 2018 ~
 
“What worked in the morning of our lives, does not work in the afternoon thereof.
And what was true in the morning, by evening becomes a lie” ~ Jung
 
If I understand this correctly by my own interpretation… then it fits with my lifelong fantasy world of loving certain people with all my heart all through my years, on my inner child level… needing, back from them, reassurance of their love for me on the same level… only to discover, that they would never be able to love me the same… they don’t need me… that I have been living in a fantasy dream world of hope… hope of rescue… hope of being loved by them the same way I loved them… but it’s never going to happen… they grew up with a completely different perspective… a secure home… good and loving parents, a vast social family and friendship connection etc.
 
I can’t expect them to share my fantasy world… IT’S ALL BEEN AN ILLUSION… and that realisation that is finally sinking in now in my 60’s, really hurts… but logic tells me… it is what it is and I need to just get used to a new way of being with them… different expectations of them…
 
To delete from my mind, the lifelong, childhood dream that was never meant to come true in the way I had dreamed it… it was a child’s fantasy… it kept me going then… it served it’s purpose… and I must let go of it now…
 
Life is not easy… but it has to go on in the best way possible… even in the aching emptiness and loneliness of lost dreams… one still has to go on… one still has to love regardless.
 
Secrets of Real Love:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rgxLrAkSvuY
 
Most of my lifelong pain has been about, not being loved fully (the way I should have been as a child) and not being completely free to love the way I have a need to and wish to.  It has also been about not trusting… the hardest struggle of all.
 
Transference I believe is an inner child’s longing for what wasn’t… now coming to the surface… in an attempt to make it real in the here and now…
 
I’m really pondering just lately… especially after the link on the last blog post referring to “CONNECTION”.  Instead of denying the inner-child what she’s so desperately crying out for… if it were possible to help her to have it, in a SAFE, controlled, but nurturing way… to not deny her, her expression of love… to not make her feel bad for feeling or needing in the way she does… to protect her from boundary crossing from either side… but at the same time… somehow help her to feel completely connected as I mostly do feel in my Logotherapy World… surely this would bring the healing that is needed.  
 
My Logotherapy world has been a most powerful example of what is possible if the inner-child is helped to feel… “SAFE LOVE”…
 
Now… I’m not saying that I need to be held today, by a mother figure and told I’m loved in the way I should have been told by my own mother when I was young… but, I feel to repeat the important article I posted in the lasts blog post:
 
“The Opposite of Addiction is Connection”… written by Jonathan Davis.  I have taken an excerpt from it, but the full article is a must read and please listen to the video at the end also:
 
“How Our Ability to Connect is Impaired by Trauma
Trauma is well-known to cause interruption to healthy neural wiring, in both the developing and mature brain. A deeper issue here is that people who have suffered trauma, particularly children, can be left with an underlying sense that the world is no longer safe, or that people can no longer be trusted. This erosion (or complete destruction) of a sense of trust, that our family, community and society will keep us safe, results in isolation” https://upliftconnect.com/opposite-addiction-connection/
 
I know that not many are going to understand what I’m saying here, and many will absolutely oppose it… but I do hope that someone out there does understand what I’m trying to share, because this is making so much sense to me. 
 
Why must my inner-child keep crying out for what never was, because it is what still never will be in this world… Is there not a way to follow the “Portuguese” example talked about on the link above… to help adult survivors of child abuse to feel completely and utterly accepted, needed, wanted, useful, unjudged, loved, etc. in this world, by helping them to feel more connected.
 
Why must I fear, that if I express the love of my heart… even my child heart to you, that you will think I’m transferring onto you and run for the hills… and if I am actually transferring, then would not your distancing and disconnection from me cause me more pain than I originally had to deal with? 
 
There has to be a “safe way” of dealing with transference in such a way as to bring the healing required. 
 
What my therapist did during the time of transference and counter-transference was extremely hurtful and devastating… I don’t believe I will ever heal completely from that in this world… I have also learned to understand from “her side”… how it started… but, how it ended was completely and utterly unforgivable in my eyes, because it added greatly to my struggles, even to this day. 
 
Thank Heaven’s for my Logotherapy world… my mentor and her dear husband, David.  I have so much to be grateful for today… even my life.
 
Thank you for taking the time to share this with me… I feel a sense of connection to those who take the time to share with me here and it means more than you could ever know.
 
~ Panayiota.

(Written 22nd February ~ Continued 4th March)

We have a family group on WhatsApp... practically only four of us ever visit it regularly... everyone else is too busy... it makes me sad sometimes, because I like to feel them near.  It really could take only a few seconds a day to at least respond with a smiley face or a heart if nothing else... just to show they are there and acknowledging family ties and maybe... feeling the love.
 
When one of "the four" dies, then there will be only three... will anyone miss the one gone if they're not missing them already...

I'm already missing the ones who don't pop in regularly… and they're alive. It's sad how "too busy to show or share the love" so many of us have become in this world.

I guess it’s just me… I am lonely and isolated most days, so, that WhatsApp group and even popping into Facebook once or twice during a day… and my vital connections through my work, have become my only way of really feeling connected with the world and loved ones...

Those who have busier lives don't seem to need more connection than they have already packed into their days... but I still can’t help wonder… what about values regarding family connectedness and unity... what's happening there?

I guess we can't demand to be loved, so I have learned to accept what portion I can receive from the world, even outside of direct family... even the left overs and dregs of love people have to spare... it needs to be ENOUGH, because THE NOTHING is even worse.
 
So, I've also learned that reaching out with my love is a way to FEEL THE LOVE... to receive back for my own heart’s needs.
 
I would admit without shame… I’m very needy of love and reassurance of love… I’m not shy to admit that, because Patty will always be crying out from within me for all she missed as a child.  So, is there a need for more love and connectedness to be shown in this world, or is this just my loneliness and longings for “perfect love ~ The way Patty felt it always should have been” still speaking? 
 
Is anyone else feeling the lack of vital love and connectedness in this “too busy world” or is it just me?
 
I often sign off a letter or message with, “I love you”, but it’s not often I receive the same back.  It hurts a lot… especially when I am needing to feel their love in return.  So, I find myself second guessing myself… wanting to stop saying and writing what I feel… but if I allow that to happen, then it means I’m allowing myself to change… for the worse.  My adult side knows and understands that not everyone is able to be as free with their love as I have always tried to be.  So, I have to let them be… who they are… and continue to be… who I am.  I cannot let them change me… I must not.
 
Sending out my love to all those who are in need of love today. Have a beautiful and blessed day to you all <3
 
~ Panayiota
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b9jZUSP6Cg4
 

Continued... 4th March 2108 ~ Strange how I wrote the above, including the link at the end on the 22nd February and never got around to posting it… then today, 4th March 2018, I found the following important article called: “The Opposite of Addiction is Connection”… written by Jonathan Davis.  I have taken an excerpt from it, but the full article is a must read and please listen to the video at the end also:

“How Our Ability to Connect is Impaired by Trauma
Trauma is well-known to cause interruption to healthy neural wiring, in both the developing and mature brain. A deeper issue here is that people who have suffered trauma, particularly children, can be left with an underlying sense that the world is no longer safe, or that people can no longer be trusted. This erosion (or complete destruction) of a sense of trust, that our family, community and society will keep us safe, results in isolation” https://upliftconnect.com/opposite-addiction-connection/
 
Also: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_General_Theory_of_Love  (looks like a book I’d very much like to have to read and maybe make a presentation out of).
 
I believe that I was addicted to alcohol in my 20’s living with my first abusive husband.  I was also addicted to eating in excess for most of my life… Logotherapy found me in my 50’s and my whole life has changed exponentially since then for the better, both emotionally and physically. 
 
What is it about my Logotherapy world that has helped me to heal so far as I have to this day?
 
I believe it is the very thing that this article above speaks about… CONNECTION… feeling mostly, completely accepted, loved, appreciated, wanted, unjudged, heard, needed, and a part of… feeling as though I belong. 
 
Nothing has ever helped me so much as my Logotherapy World has.  I am so very grateful for my wonderful Logotherapy Mentor, her dear husband, David, and the rest of my LogoFamily… and to all those other rare and beautiful in my life, who have loved me for me, and helped me to believe and trust in their love and in my “being in this world”. 
 
Let it be noted, that whenever a connection that I trusted and believed in crumbles, I experience it as if it were a death and I crumble for a time also.
 
Once again, remembering the poem I once wrote:
 
ONLY LOVE CAN LIFT THE CURSE!
© All rights reserved ~ www.pattyskeys.co.za
 
He doesn’t want people to know him,
For he no longer knows himself,
He doesn’t want people to feel for him,
Because he no longer feels much for himself!
 
He doesn’t want people to celebrate for him,
For he celebrates not for himself,
He doesn’t want people to love him,
For he doesn’t love himself!
 
Don’t live for him; don’t die for him,
Don’t even exist for his life,
For he’s no longer living or dead,
And he doesn’t exist for himself!
 
He denies that he has a problem,
Yet he struggles in a lonely place,
Where he’s tried to rub out his own feelings,
And has even erased his own face!
 
Don’t hate him for who he’s becoming,
You will only make things so much worse!
Love him regardless, I beg of you,
For Only Love can lift the curse!
 
~ Panayiota Ryall
 
I might continue to repeat this poem from time to time in my blog posts, because I truly do believe in the great power of LOVE for every aspect of healing in this world.  I cannot overemphasise this belief that I hold true in my heart.
​
Which comes to a potential blog post I started writing on the 2nd March 2018, and never found time to finish and post yet...  “Different hearts – different expectations – different LOVE”.  I will try finish it off the way I intended to in the next post.
 
So much to do… so little time…
 
Thank you for sharing with me today.
 
~ Panayiota

​~ Posted 4th March 2018 ~

In October last year, due to my middle son and other kind people (a dear friend and her dad), responding to my fundraising plea, I was able to raise enough money to make a most longed for dream come true.  The hole in the wall / door that would turn our garage into an extra room added onto our little house.
 
On the 23rd October, our handyman Peter, came to put ceilings into our garage which had no ceilings at all in before.  Not only was there no ceiling, but our garage had a roll up garage door on both ends which allowed wind and dust to blow through there constantly.  I could not use the garage at all, because it was always full of dust, so a whole lot of my things were still imprisoned in sealed boxes since we moved here in 2012 and the garage space was wasted on storage alone. 
 
Having the ceiling put in with two beautiful lights was so exciting for me… my dream had started to come together at last.
 
On the 11 November, also as a result of the donations, my son-in-law worked on my car and was able to replace the fan belt and breaks… what a blessing!
 
On the 13th November, Peter and Shem, (the man who comes to help me with my garden from time to time when it gets completely out of hand for me), both came to work on cutting the hole through the wall and setting a door frame in place… and on the 14th November, the beautiful new door was attached, and just like that we had a new room added to our home… still at that stage, with a garage door on each end allowing dust and wind to blow through.
 
While I was away at our Logotherapy student’s workshops over a two-week period, Peter came to put in the second-hand glass window and door to fill the opening at one end of the garage.  He had managed to find the glass door somewhere, a lot cheaper than a new one would have cost us.  When I arrived home in the evening, it was such a wonderful surprise to find the glass window and door in place and so beautifully done.  The door has a broken handle which would still need to be replaced for a new one costing around R500 Peter said, but by then there was no money left, so we have left the roll up garage door in place so that at least that can still be locked to give us more security until we can buy a new lock with handle for it.  We keep it rolled down for now for protection, so the room is still dark unless the lights have been turned on.
 
With the ceiling and glass door, we no longer have a dust problem in the room, because there is no more airflow across it.  It’s too wonderful for words.
 
Once the room was ready to move stuff into, it created a mammoth job, but, that was so cathartic.  Our house became so much less cluttered.  The drawer space that our dear friend Annemarie had given us could now be filled as I unpacked boxes into them.  A long shelf we had lying around for ages, was finally put up above the drawers, and onto that the remaining boxes were put until I can find the time to use up what is in them… stuffing for cushions, etc., ostrich eggs longing to be painted, and other arts and crafty items that I have so dreamed, for many, many years now of using and transforming into beautiful creations.
 
The huge fridge that my dear friend had given me also when her and her dear husband moved home, took up a lot of room in our small sitting room, so that also found a new home in what I now call my “Hobby Room” … tables she had given me were also set out with chairs around them, ready for use.  One table for sewing on and the other for painting and crafts.  

My dream vision was coming alive right before my eyes.
 
The only problem has been, no time to finish off the room with so much going on since the workshops, including, to name a few, Christmas, New Year’s, my sister’s visit from Mexico and working hard with the person who has been setting up the new online structure at work, to make the administration side of things so much easier and less stressful for me personally, not to mention the higher than usual intake of new Logotherapy students, which we have experienced as a result of the online registration process that has made things so much easier for them too.  We are still very busy on that, but hopefully soon, things will quieten down a bit and I will have time to work on those rooms.  Even finding time to do some of the blog posts I’m determined to get done today, is interrupting other work I should be doing, but I just could not let this blog post in particular wait another day.
 
Every time I go into my new Hobby Room, my sense of gratitude feels totally overwhelming towards those who helped me with their kind and generous donations and to Peter and Shem who did the building work.  Sometimes, I just stop and stand still in there, just to take it all in yet again.  How can there be words to express such gratitude… how can anyone understand how much this means to me.  For 30 years in my last house, that was totally chaotic and piled high with STUFF, and just over five years here in my new house, I was unable to reach the fullness of my “creativity” dream… and now it is right here, just waiting for me to find time so that I can once more reconnect with my creative side. 
 
When I finally paint a picture or sew something in there, I will share it with you all.  I still need to have my sewing machines fixed.  The fan belt on my Greek mom’s old sewing machine perished and needs replacing, and the other machine that does more than just straight and zigzag stitching is not working.  Once they are done, I will set them up to use… YAY!  I love my Greek mom’s, because it is such a strong old machine… and it’s a precious reminder to me of her.  I would give anything for an over locker too… but one thing at a time.
 
Right now, we require funds for our car to be fixed to run properly, so I will continue to send a plea for assistance wherever possible, never, ever expecting anyone who has helped us before to help us again.  If there is anyone else out there who is in a position to help us financially, my son and I would be so grateful. 

For some reason, the pictures are no longer posting where I need them to post in-between the text in Weebly, so they will just have to go where then end up when I try to post them. 

​Thank you and have a lovely and blessed week ahead.
 
~ Panayiota.