The muscles across the front of my chest are in agony this morning. They feel just like they did after the first Journey process. It is no coincidence that it has happened again, 24 hours after I attended a group session run by my Journey practitioner. This is the pain of holding on.
I’ve done a lot of emoting throughout the 12 hours I’ve spent Journeying. I mean, 12 hours, that is a LONG time to be wading through one’s own psyche. I have cried a lot. I’ve sworn a few times and hey, look, I really thought I was doing what was asked, rolling up my sleeves, letting go, really immersing myself in the process.
But I keep getting this mental image of me aged 18 at my grandmother’s funeral. I was really upset. So much so, I let my tears flow. I sobbed my heart out. It was not the done thing. My sisters to this day remind me of the fact that I snorted like a pig throughout the ceremony. They read this blog, so I apologise now. I love them to bits and they like me, were a product of our tumultuous upbringing. I didn’t disagree with them either. ‘OMG, how embarrassing was I? How cringeworthy. I was so loud’ etc etc. I bought into the whole ‘You should not show your feelings in public’ thing as much as they did.
The truth is, I did not fully let myself go during the Journey process. I thought spending all that money on it would force me to, but it didn’t. I poured a hell of a lot of energy into keeping myself together.
Yesterday, the practitioner asked me how I was after the group. ‘I’m okay,’ I said. I lied. I lied to myself and it was only on waking this morning that I was able to face the truth. Yep, I’m not the biggest badass in the building, I am the biggest fraud.
‘A geyser of wild emotions has pushed to the surface’
I had felt excruciatingly anxious throughout the entire meeting. Hold on, hold on, hold on’ I told myself. I could not afford to fall apart and let anyone see that I am a total fuck-up. A chest beating, wailing, screaming head case. Since Jack died, a geyser of wild emotions have pushed to the surface and it wouldn’t take much for it all to spill out.
It sounds so ridiculous saying this, but I felt angry, annoyed and downright jealous of the others in the group. Why are they all so normal? Why is everyone so damned bloody happy? I wish they’d just fuck right off with their calmness. I wanted to yell at them. Imagine if I’d let myself rip. I might have been sectioned. Worse still, they might not like me.
So, here I am feeling like a pressure cooker about to blow its lid and I am off to do a weekend’s stand-up comedy course. I couldn’t feel less like doing that today if I tried. I’m going to go though. My gut instinct tells me I should. Who knows what will happen? Who I might meet. I am just praying that I don’t lose my shit on stage in a pub full of bemused punters. Now, that would be embarrassing…
My emotions do not define me, they are just energy moving through.