I got a UTI after sex with man. I think that every time I got on in the past it was probably because of me not being into sex but ignoring it. And now I’m forced to go back to the roots for so much shit and it all feels so intense and unfair like I didn’t ask for all this trauma and pain and I’m in so much pain that I’m only still starting to uncover and look at. You’re okay and it’s all okay. You just need to survive– It’s a clear survival mode that I entered to avoid facing any trauma or processing any pain. But I could only stay there for so long and now I’m starting to return to the roots and really stay in the pain. It’s still really hard for me to cry. It’s hard for me to let the walls down and access to pain. Because that makes it all real and then I can’t drift into my happy world where nothing hurts– a mask. Did you believe it? Where you tricked by the illusion I created so intensely? And last night I did some witchcraft on my womb and felt the pain disappear slowly. Such a broken chakra that I made everyone- including myself- believe was fine so much so that I almost believed it. Was I really fine this whole time or is this how deep the repression goes? Who knows… these emotions are still valid and the past behaviors were still unhealthy- sex with people I didn’t want inside of me, lies–which I still tell, the need for any man I interact with want me. And I did it also well. I played the perfect sexy, desirable, fuckable girl. And it is fun to be all of those things and I still am all of those things. But I’m also much more. I’m addicted to my phone and it distractions it gives me from really going there. Really having to sit in this. And now I’m wondering if that would even do anything to help me. Would going there really fix the issues? Would looking at the roots make it all better? Is this all connected to my childhood or is it deeper? As I go in, my ego fights back. Wants me to go on Instagram or any app and just feel like shit. It wants me to feels as shitty as it does with the knowledge that this may lead to joy, a non-codependent relationship, a healthy mentality. A time where I don’t need to delete my Facebook because I can’t have a healthy relationship to myself without so much internal hatred that is masked as love. I can hardly tell the difference between hatred and love when they wear the same mask. You don’t have a choice though. Even with sex and drugs, the sadness and problems exist. You can only go in and hope you can get through, to work through, accept it as a part of you and learn from it. Learn to be nice to yourself and not battle yourself like an enemy. You cannot choose to feel your feelings– it’s a dangerous lie. They exist regardless. The repression was only that- repressing the pre-existing feelings. Were abusive relationships and eating disorders and feeling nothing really working for me? Gaslighting myself over and over until believed that this was all separate. Not interrelated and so deeply connected. I was a victim of my relationships and parents and society– everyone validate that narrative because no one would tell me to just get over it already. But I am so over it. Over the blame that kept me safe from looking at myself. The work and stories and sex revolved around others, never connected to myself. Anastasia isn’t easy on me. I tell her that it worked so well before and she says, “oh really, did the danger situations you found yourself in works for you?” And I tell her there’s no way that this will all go away just from feeling it and she says, “make the choice now.” I tell her I feel too weak for this and she says, “find or ask for help.” I tell her my conditioning wants me to run and finally she says, “The pain will be the sharpest now. It will get less intense.” She predicts I will be dealing with this for about a year. It’s not instant. It’s work. She explains, “The gifts this depression will bring you are of a measurable value.” Anastasia isn’t here to hold my hand and validate my bad behavior. She’s not here to tell me I’m amazing or even safe. She’s calling me out and guiding me towards the places I shy away from. Stay here. Breathe here. Be here. It’s not validating the bad behavior. It doesn’t bring sparkles to my life. She says Art is important now more than ever. Share it – even if your ego thinks you will get you rejected, share it and prove ego wrong– or feel that pain in full and love it anyway. I think Anastasia for calling me out of my bullshit and she says, “it’s not bullshit.” I tell her it feels like bullshit. She reminds me to be nicer to myself by saying, “try talking to yourself with my compassion and understanding. Don’t going to self-abuse. You’re doing the best you can and you’ve always done the best you could. You were strong in trauma and you were trying. If you’re regress for a while, it’s part of the process. You are up against something very difficult. Try not beating yourself up as weak or calling coping bullshit. You are strong and you’re doing your best.” And these words are so important. They affirm that I can move forward without blaming myself for regressing. Today I did her regress. I wanted to compare myself with others and blame myself for not having enough Instagram followers and for not having enough attention for my work. Good artist actually make it– you’re not good enough. And it was abusive. And I never called it that, I called it normal and validated it as fine even though I could see it was not healthy, I never felt like I had an option for any other way of being. It wasn’t time to feel it fully. The stress stored in my back and heart and mind and insecurities. My mom used to compare me to others– once a friend was over and she asked her what grade she got and said, “See, she does better than you.” These links, the comparisons, it’s all coming to the surface and all I have now faith, art, and my dear friends.