Empathetic Intimacy

 I suppose I should start with the story of what I have been going thru. I have had a bad time and a good time each with their own life lessons. (But i am not sure if i will talk about the good time in this post.)

 

Well I hope that these are lessons...that is the work thru of "krma" if you will.

 

I have had a sensitive stomach for my whole adult life. I am prone to bouts of little appetite and dehydration. My sickness episodes used to be once a year but have increased with my old age to two or more times a year.

 

I never call out of work unless I am half dead.

And I am the fool who will try to come into work just because I am only half dead.

If I eat bad food, or solid food when my body is not ready, due to a term of low appetite, then look out.... I am half dead.

 

Especially if i have done exhausting  labor without being able to replenish my strength.

(i asked them to let me build strength by lifting half of each dough for few days instead of the whole dough every other time which exhausted me several times a day twice in the week.  They said well they like doing heavy then rest so they won't let me do half their work all day....in so many words. Hence my preliminary bitterness)

 

 So my story is about bitterness. 

Intrusive thoughts of anger and need for justice....for compassion.

And loneliness.  Again.

So I had been barely eating for the past three weeks I had been consciously trying to maintain water and some calories everyday. But I was loosing the battle to eat.

And the calories where just not enough. Was having little visions of how monks can go thru years of eating little and they be alright. So if I keep drinking water....if I keep spooning peanut butter and soup .....I can be like  a monk, dude.

They say, with deep practice there will be changes in how hungry you are. BUT don't practice so hard that you think air will sustain you.

lol.

*sigh*

No, I was not trying to be a mediator, I was trying to encourage myself that I would be alright.  Then.....

I ate a few bites of solid....and bad food. Got vomity. (hyper-emeisis syndrome...when i pop off i keep on popping)

I got over it quick...like i felt fine after nursing myself up, drinking the water. Was not as dehydrated as I thought and I felt maybe I could go to work.....sip the water, swallow the peanut butter and drink the milk at work. (work/recovery)

The milk....my already trying to recover belly sipped some out of date milk at work.

OH HOLY FUCK

It did not smell bad. It tasted like ear wax. It had little tiny clumps of separation from the water part of that two percent shit.

I was desperate now to maintain meditative focus. Slow breaths.....don't turn the belly dear god.

IF I keep getting sick I could get fired. Please dear....

*GOD HATES YOU*

Well.....so....I had to go home.  I went home first because I was all pukey and that hurts when you got nothing but dry heaves....and being pukey does not get you seen in the ER quicker.

I know from experience.

I got myself stable and drinking water at home. then had to pull myself together...to WALK five blocks to the ER.....because my bosses want a NOTE....saying how many days I will be sick......when I can come back.

OH FUCKING HELL.

*but i am not angry yet.. just i know i need an IV..but still weak and can't pull myself to work the next day.*

Go in the day after....man wow...I had 2000 whole calories on my sick day. Man, I am only 1/4 dead.... and i must work. They are so mad and the last time i barely held on to my job.

Work is pure torture. Back is corded knots. Stomach barely holding on.

Mind filled with ...with the subject of this blog.

I was in living hell. Afraid to sip water.....dry throat....weakness....I fought so hard.

But during the last stretch...the last job barely finished....the dry heaves where not controllable.

I had to fucking go home before clean up. Ya think that would be alright seeing how i AM sick duh...but fuck no....

Boss was all about blah blah doc note. 

FUCK YOU. It is your fault I am sick. I can't recover over night.

I can't work my shift day after I been sick I need two days to recover. And when I come in like this....re-dehydrate myself in the 8 hours of pure torture....then I have to recover from that ....

 

And waste my fucking valuable time that I need for drinking water and eating peanut butter and bananas and yogurt  over the course of the night to be INTERRUPTED to go wait in the ER where I can't sip the water, rest , and eat the bananas and get fucking BETTER?

FOR a note that says yeah she is sick and needs two days off.

 

So, I got stable and went back to the ER, where there was a long wait. Like it was we where the only ER in town. After four hours of waiting and not drinking the water and eating the peanut butter for fear of barfing,  my vomit meds where wearing off, and i should have been home drinking water....i didn't need a fucking IV anyway, just a fucking NOTE.

 

I felt my pukey starting back up and i just could not in good conscience start hyper vomiting in a room full of ER patients who have already been waiting multiple HOURS. 

So, I got mad and left. And nursed myself at home. And planned to get the note from ER early Sunday.  For the excuse to be off Sunday. 

But....they called me in to work under threat. I went and I was pukey by the end of shift. AGAIN!

Do you think this is FUN FOR ME!

Oh about every six months I feel the wild hair to go knocking on deaths door merely to inconvenience you for a few shifts. Yes. I am evil.

 

Compassion. Humanity.

 

I am not asking you to like me....but ...could you please make sure I can't over hear the way you huddle and plot to fire me if I get sick.

 " i am so ready for you to be back here"  the boss lady said to a co worker.  Is not this unprofessional?

Is it not unprofessional for the boss man to throw his hand up even knowing I sipped the bad milk to shout at me..."of course you are, you ALWAYS do this to me"

I mean....it is a real stressor, I know my dangerous position and it well..........makes me wanna throw up again.

 

So you ARE  torturing me.

 

*ahh i have touched this rage...time for a time out.  Perhaps it is very hard for me to see their feelings.  Perhaps I am not seeing their mercies.

I write this to work out how to adjust my view. Because I do not enjoy myself when I have dark thoughts about how very badly I wished for them to go thru one of these torture sessions.

Oh i am evil...but it is evil in a little glass jar...I want to look at it and poke it.

Why should I want them to feel what I have been thru?  Why...so that I can have a chance to NOT show them compassion?

Maybe to have a chance to say...ah haaa now you know.

Will they apologize to me for being selfish about their inconvenience?

SO why do we want others to know our suffering when they fail to show us compassion?

 

Some people of course will learn to go about to cause suffering just because it was done to them. But I am talking about normal humans.

 

IF I want to be a super guru I have to learn... why did I wish for my bosses to feel what I went thru.

 

Does not this perpetuate the cycle of life and death?  I mean in order for them to feel my pain as I do...should I not have to keep feeling it  *at* them?  Does this keep me from recovering from my pain?

 

If life and death and karma and all that happen in the moment and not in the hear after....well....my act of projection...is much like the butterfly effect.

 

Now a step back to look into the thoughts of my mind during the struggle.

 

 I did not play with or enjoy the rage thoughts...I did not have them completely. When they started coming up I worked to turn my mind from them.

I questioned much like I am for demonstration.

It was hard because they kept intruding randomly.  I would be ...."in breath out breath" then "don't you know how i feel, your torturing me...... i need to be home getting better....."

About here I would notice and work...and react to my back hurting. Thank god my stomach didn't bother me while my back was hurting.

Gratitude.

Well I should say my gratitude was not working powerfully but...ahhh not barfy.

Try to think of plans for feasting on the peanut butter and the yogurt and the mmmmmmmmmmmmilk....ahh tomato soup....ahhhh

and of course Om nama shiva shivaya nama om...to keep my counts and movements with the slicer.

If I was feeling good I would silently try to play a song in my head....

 

Then *BAM.... you all are plotting on me ..this is hell, all smug like that...i wish you could feel what i am going thru.......

no no*

 

Why!  If you keep your mind steady you keep your belly steady.

 

...

 

*um yeah sometimes i narrate to myself in third person....it is because i have no intimacy in my life.....*

 

ANYHOO>... Point is....hard to keep thoughts out that you don't even want to take part in.

Like depression ....

I realized I was powerfully at battle to not become depressed.

Not be affected by internalizing what I view to be their projections.

Basically much of the mental dialogue that can't properly be retold in jest here, was arguments.

Why they where unfair to me, and also why they are mad at me. 

They started to settle into silence when I sort realized............well...

 

It was a little vision of etherical rings.  My center was where I think and the intrusive thoughts where from an outer ring.

The outer ring was entangled with the energy of the outer ring of the boss people. And they where also separate in their center.

Basically floating thoughts, not necessarily the situation or behavior happening that needs my reaction or acceptance.

We all have secret thoughts don't we. We sometimes think the lady's hair is ugly but we act something nice.

Similar.  Just a delusion to help me not wish vengeance on sentient beings.

 

I also struggled with deep need for human connection. I was feeling like the whole world abandoned me, I was being punished....had no one on my side to hold me while I was experiencing stress and sickness...and bad thoughts.

 

No one to coo me and hold me, and it really felt like a void.

 

I knew if I stayed in that void I would fall into the depression being formed by the vantage of being half dead...the weakness of mind to succumb to intrusive thoughts.....

 

Thank god I have a broken brain...I can comfort myself most times...but this past sickness....

 

I really needed someone to hold me.

 

Hold me empathically....hold me intimately...