The ugly, grey slug of self doubt
Or how EFT is helping me see the thought patterns that are holding me back
I’m a real geek when it comes to trying new things.
Why wouldn't you want to feel better if you could?
Also when going through challenging times, I think it’s important to over index on the self-care. Not the face masks and hot baths and stuff (though they are helpful). I mean the more significant ‘work’ that shifts your beliefs and thought processes.
This doesn’t mean spending big amounts of money as much of this stuff is readily available online. Or there are people who are willing to use you perhaps as a case study. This is what has happened to me and I’ve been trying ‘Emotional Freedom Technique’.
I am not going into detail on this as I’m not an expert but needless to say I’ve been locked into patterns of behaviour and thoughts for so so long that I need to shift them.
Where do these thoughts come from? How do they feel?
Well they come, like most things, from childhood. And they make me feel terrible. They tend to be strongest first thing in the morning but they can also crop up at unpredictable moments like when I’m listening to someone wang on about their new landscaped garden. Or their new job. Or their new husband. Or their new car. Or their new life. Or their holiday. Or even just standing there and saying nothing. They come up and I panic. I still panic because there is so much fear.
Today I had a bit of a breakthrough and realised that they are best visually represented by a giant slug.
‘When did this giant slug come into your life?’ the EFT therapist asked me.
‘When I was about 5,’ I answered on the Zoom.
I was feeling self conscious as EFT involves (among other things) tapping different parts of your body. I was at times feeling muddled about which parts of my body I needed to tap whilst keeping my eyes closed. I am one of those people that even when doing therapy or yoga or whatever I worry that I’m not doing it right.
I was a nightmare in my hedonistic youth in Amsterdam as spent way too long staring into mirrors and worrying my pupils were too large and my jaw too clenched to brave a stint on the dance floor.
Overthinking even when stoned. It’s a thing.
Anyway I thought about it and I clearly saw a child, a blonde child aged about 5 and she was stood in an airport in Canada with her mother and her dad was on the other side of the clear plastic barrier. We were leaving for England and it was a surprise that my father wasn’t joining us as nobody had told me he wasn’t coming too. When I recently spoke to my mum about this, she told me that she ‘didn’t want to upset me at the time.’ It was a pivotal feeling, this sense of leaving safety behind and going into a situation that was unknown.
It was a time when talking to kids about what was going on in the adult world wasn’t the done thing. You sort of got taken to different places, put into different schools, with different parents and nothing was said about why this was happening or what the next plan would be. It felt unsafe. It felt like you never knew what would happen next.
This is when the slug came into my life. It walked into my bedroom in Guildford which was brightly painted by my mum who was jollying things along and it said:
‘I’m going to offer you safety and stability. I’m going to be here all the time. I’m also telling you to never take risks. Keep a tight routine. Work hard and please others. These are the things that make you feel safe. Don’t rely on anyone. Ultimately all this stuff, this disorder, is your fault and the only way you can progress is to stay small and compliant at all times.’
This grey, ugly, heavy, slimy entity has now been absorbed into my body over the years. It’s told me to stick to the straight and narrow. Never to take risks (same relationship for over 20 years/same house for about the same amount of time/same style too). It’s made my spine dip towards the Earth, made me physically slump forwards because its slimy antlers or whatever the fuck they are - antennae are wrapped around my neck and it’s continually whispering in my ear.
‘You aren’t safe.’
‘Things aren’t right.’
‘You need to work harder.’
‘Everyone has more than you.’
‘You and me are a flop you know.’
Anyway today, I made some progress. This EFT (and again I don’ know the science of it so Google it if you’re interested) makes you think about these limiting thoughts you have and it helps you release them.
It also lets you sit with the discomfort.
Today was the first time that I saw this slug, this uncomfortable, heavy, wedge of ugliness, and I started to detach it from my back. Its antennae are grappling to get some purchase around my neck but gravity is working against it. It’s pissed off because it’s been invisible and now I can see what it represents.
‘When did you really feel the slug? What other times in your life?’ the woman asked.
I thought about the mornings at home with my stepmum and sister dead, my dad at work and how I had always awoken with this thing weighing heavy on my stomach. The slug had shifted its position in the night to get more comfortable and was pressing on my chest and its slimy face was pushed up against my cheek.
‘You will always be running away from yourself,’ it would whisper and the stench of a combination of stale earth and excrement would hang in the air.
I would try and construct a routine for myself. Making the bed. Getting my uniform on. Making myself cereal. Putting the radio on loud. I would try and despatch it but I didn’t have the tools I do now.
This was the start of the lie.
Now comes the unraveling. The transformation has slowly begun. The slug can feel it happening. It’s no longer in a position of authority you see.