Browsing Tag

confession

Binders, Guest Posts, Life

Requiem for a Fallen Catholic.

February 12, 2015

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By Trish Cook.

Confession

I hate going to church. Especially funerals. I am only here in the hopes that my presence will comfort a hurting friend, not because I believe in this bullshit.

Sit, kneel, stand, cry.

Remember how losing a parent is like a having a body part amputated. How long the numbness where they used to exist lasts, how searing the pain is once the feeling returns. Remember why, ever since my dad died decades ago when I was twenty-four, I havent been able to sit through a religious service without getting angry, teary.

More pomp, more circumstance, more hollow promises.

Prayto whom, I do not knowthat my friend John, who has just lost his father and is the reason I grudgingly sit, kneel, stand, and cry today, finds comfort where I no longer do.

Wonder, as I have so many times since my own fathers funeral: Why would a loving God let us walk the earth so wounded? Lie so battered? Allow us to become so bruised, each and every one of us?

Jen Pastiloff is the founder of The Manifest-Station. Join her in Tuscany for her annual Manifestation Retreat. Click the Tuscan hills above. No yoga experience required. Only requirement: Just be a human being. Yoga + Writing + Connection. We go deep. Bring an open heart and a sense of humor- that's it! Summer or Fall 2015.

Jen Pastiloff is the founder of The Manifest-Station. Join her in Tuscany for her annual Manifestation Retreat. Click the Tuscan hills above. No yoga experience required. Only requirement: Just be a human being. Yoga + Writing + Connection. We go deep. Bring an open heart and a sense of humor- that’s it! Summer or Fall 2015.

  Continue Reading…

Addiction, Anonymous, Guest Posts

Confessions of an Alcoholic.

December 5, 2014

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Hello Jen, I follow you on Facebook.

I know you are a writer and I had something that I wanted to share with people without them actually knowing it was me.  I would be interested in hearing people’s opinions on my topic. I love your “don’t be an asshole” and your amazing quotes. Please do not post my name or anything, I am one of your followers but don’t want this on my page.

Okay, here it is…it probably sucks because I am not a writer but I think it just may help someone not get to this scary place…

Why Am I an Alcoholic?

I don’t know where to begin. I always use the phrase “did the chicken come before the egg or the egg before the chicken?” I know, I know…cliché right? Well I find that I feel the most insightful when I am drinking and everything seems to make complete sense or no sense at all while I am intoxicated. And, honestly, I have no idea when an easy “fun time” became this crazy journey that I am on. I am under the grips of something so incredibly powerful yet so incredibly benign in the eyes of some.

I find myself listening to comments such as “why don’t you just stop?” and “you can stop whenever you want to, but you just don’t want to.”

Truth be told…it’s not even just listening to those comments, but believing them and eventually making myself feel more guilty and miserable and partaking of my alcohol nightmare even more than the day before just to quash the guilt.

Continue Reading…

Guest Posts, healing

Confessions of an Imperfect Life.

November 9, 2012

This is another follow-up post to The “What Happens When You Admit Out Loud That You Are Scared” post by my anonymous blogger. If you haven’t read it yet, click here and read it before you proceed.

Ok, now we can proceed.

She is no longer anonymous. Her name is Katie Devine. And, based on the outpouring of love and support she has started her very own blog called Confessions of an Imperfect Life.

 

I asked her how it felt to have been so open and vulnerable and this is what she said…

Two weeks ago, after an amazing Manifestation retreat in Ojai, I sent Jen an email expressing my frustrations about not being able to open my heart fully at the retreat–or in my everyday life. It revealed feelings I had never expressed, in words I had never written or spoken out loud. Jen posted it anonymously on her blog, asking the question “What Happens When You Admit Out Loud You Are Scared?”. It was my heart, raw, open and exposed.

So here’s what happens, if you’re me:

PANIC: Holy crap, what did I just do?!?! What is everyone going to think?

(Immediately after)

RELIEF: I don’t have to keep this all inside. I don’t have to be “strong”. I don’t have to be alone.

(Immediately after that)

SUPPORT. COMPASSION. EMPATHY. I am NOT alone.

LOVE.

LOVE.

LOVE.

The outpouring from strangers, from friends is almost overwhelming. People I have never met offering hope, insight, hugs, and love has humbled me. I could never have imagined the kindess of strangers would turn towards me in such a powerful way. It has, quite literally, changed my life.

The other thing I have learned from this experience? Not everyone understands. Some friends I have opened up to prefer fun Katie, who entertains with crazy stories, and doesn’t cry at dinner in the middle of a restaurant. Who are uncomfortable knowing that there is another layer buried beneath. And it’s sad. But then there are the friends who know to hug you while you are crying at dinner, admitting that you have problems with food and you still can’t even really say the words out loud, who make you feel like it just might be worth it.

This is just my first step. I have started blogging to try to work through some of these issues, but I have not yet shared my blog with many of my closest friends or any of my family members. I haven’t even been able to post a link to my Facebook yet. I’m working towards living more openly with everyone in my life. I will get there.

 So what happens when you admit out loud that you are scared? As one reader so astutely and eloquently offered “life softens”. And it has. Conversations have gone deeper, interactions are more thoughtful. Not having my guard up all the time has given my head the space to really listen, my heart the room to really love, and my soul the freedom to begin to heal.

Thank you. For encouragement, for acceptance, for advice, for love. I read every reply many, many times and have imprinted them on my brain and on my heart forever. I hope that I can someday impact someone else’s life the way each of you have impacted mine.

Please connect with Katie and follow her blog here.

And So It Is

Confessions.

May 11, 2012

Confessions. Part 1.

1. I like to feel safe.

I have a yearning to feel safe.

The pop psychologist in you will say Well, Jen, that is because your dad died when you were young and all you ever want is to go back to feeling safe because that felt very, very unsafe.

Probably this is true.

Regardless, I do things to stay safe.

Even if they make me miserable sometimes such as waitressing at the same restaurant for 13 years because I was scared to leave.

I married a man I love deeply but who indeed makes me feel very safe.

I am not talking about the I will protect you because I am so tough kind of safe although he keeps a gold club by our bed. (Yes, I too am not sure what that could ever ever do.)

He makes me feel safe because he loves me unconditionally. Except when I am a slob, which I am quite a lot. Then he still loves me, he just gets aggravated. I get that.

He checks my car to make sure it has oil and gas. He waters the plants. He puts his hands on my forehead and tells me not to worry, that everything will be okay.

There it is!

Those used to be my fantasy words.

Perhaps they still are?

I have said aloud many times throughout my childhood and teen years even. All I wanted was for someone to tell me: It’s going to be alright. 

My husband does that.

And he means it. He believes it. He believes in me.

He makes me feel good. And sexy. And beautiful. And talented.

And safe.

So yes, I am being honest. I like to feel safe.

So here is my confession which I thought I would save for my book.

2. I suck my thumb.

I have for over 35 years.

There must have been years in adulthood when I stopped but lately I notice I have been  doing it again, usually when I don’t even realize it.

It’s like nothing I could ever explain to you the feeling of safety it gives me. The feeling of relaxation. The feeling of being high. The feeling of it’s going to be alright.

Psychologists say the habit is a comforting gesture that mimics the feelings gained from breastfeeding as a baby, sending a rush of endorphins to the brain.

So what do I do?

It’s not like I walk around with my thumb in my mouth but it is indeed a comforting vice I allow myself. And, perhaps the reason I have been doing it more lately is directky related to the lack of judgement from my husband, from the safety he provides. Perhaps  I feel more stress and it is my way to make me feel slightly better.

We all have something.

Some drink wine. (I have done.)

Some over eat. ( I have done.)

Some starve themselves. ( I have done and done again.)

Some over exercise. ( I have more than done.)

Some have too much sex. (Not so much.)

Some sleep too much. ( I have done.)

Some shop with money they do not have. ( I have done.)

Whatever it is, we all have things that make us feel safe, even if they are actually causing us to stay in a dark place, albeit a safe one, because it is what we know.

Better the Devil you know….

The point is that I am confessing to something I observe in myself. This yearning to feel safe.

Is it crippling me? No. Not at all.

Are there things that I am doing that I could change? Yes. Many.

For example, I have already had braces and I hated them. I do not need buck teeth in my 30’s.

I can also attempt to find these feelings in other ways. Maybe I can get that same endorphin rush through exercise, except this time without feeing like I need to exercise 4 hours a day (yes, I did that.) Maybe I can get that feeling through meditation.

Maybe not.

Maybe I will suck my thumb and like to feel safe until I die.

Most of you won’t know. You will like me anyway.

3. I have many more but this post can only be so long to keep your attention.

You will go on and do the things that you do to keep you feeling safe or alive or relevant or scared or lovable or whatever way you need to feel to keep on keeping on in the world.

What’s your confession?