Unconditional Self Acceptance

Unconditional Self Acceptance Journal Based on listening to Cheri Huber 6 hour audio book
I liked this very much because it is like one long guided meditation she reminds you to deep breathe at the beginning of each chapter and from the start she sounds like she is talking directly to me. I don’t know if anyone else would feel the same. She hit on issues that helped me a lot. I was surprised by the “Judge” section. It was the only time I couldn’t breathe. She asks where do you feel the emotion and it was a tightness in my abdomen. It was the most emotional part of the journey. I think I will keep listening to it in my spare time, maybe a chapter each session. It made me think. I also like it because there is very little mystical qualities. And no “positive affirmations” because they just don’t work for me. I don’t believe them when I hear them.

Picture 4 people in your life, My mom, when I was 6, smell of alcohol when she kissed me goodnight. I hated it. I hated the way she acted when she was drunk. Yes loving but, you know, or loud and obnoxious and embarrassing.

My uncle J when I was 6, pulling a knife on my mom’s boyfriend over some stupid argument. May have been thanksgiving. Fear, confusion, I never know how anyone is going to act depending on what substances they are using.

My aunt J, I was 4, My favorite thing was whoever was still awake when she got out of work at the Bar got to go to downtown Salisbury for beach pizza and sit on the huge driftwood tree in front of the fire, with the other late nighters. and drink wine out of a gallon jug, hobo style, rest it on your shoulder. I was usually the only one still awake. I felt special.

My Mom’s boyfriend, I still don’t know the story, he was married to her adopted sister and had two kids but somehow ended up living with my mom. He was a lumberjack and brought a case of beer with him to work each day. He taught us kids hard work. I was 6-10, I don’t know how I feel, He was usually Jovial but scared me once, pushed me down the stairs, when I didn’t want to help bring in the firewood. Stop your fucking crying!
Memories of when I felt strong emotion. Getting teased about Liz and trying to violence my cousin. (is embarrassment and emotion) anger, I got punished for being emotional. Sent to my room early while every one was still laughing down stairs. I think I was 9.

Kensington: baseball, I threw a tantrum because I struck out three times and mr perrea showed me the poster board at the end of the game, 50 cent pieces and every kid’s name and congratulations for making the higher team. I cried and I got ostracized by all my friends in 7th grade. I was punished for my emotions. 10 years old, 6th grade

Silent Meditation Notes: She was talking me through it and I kept noticing the highest I could count my breath was to 5, when she suggested 10, but I reminded myself it is called “practice” for a reason and did not berate myself. I noticed today my mind was very quiet while listening. Last night, many noises, When she went silent, I didn’t notice for the longest time.. Suddenly I realized I had no thoughts for the first time ever while meditating. I know that is not the point. My head tilted to the side as if I was about to fall asleep, but I was not sleeping when I was having no thoughts. I was startled and it wasn’t until then I noticed she had stopped talking. I thought the player had stopped!
Set time for awareness practice and stick to it. No more, no less (me 5 minutes) it’s for the child inside who believes adults lie. Keep your promises to yourself. ( I like this for some reason) (I didn’t know my first promise to myself was to not give up on this audio, it is only six hours and finish starting last night until sometime today) Meditation does not make you a better person. It makes you a person who is more aware.

Cool! I forgot to count my breath but when I remembered I made it up to 10 every time and twice I went to 11 forgetting to start over. The practice is to stay in the present but usually while I am doing meditation, I am living in the future. No different this time. I catch myself thinking of what I am going to do later in the day. Or most of all, what I was going to write after 5 minutes. 5 minutes felt like it would be excruciating but the timer sounded and surprised the hell out of me. Tinnitus is what I noticed the most. Many thoughts but not fast. footsteps upstairs, cars outside, Counting to ten became automatic. I think I was doing so well this summer because I was keeping my promise to get outside for a certain number of hours every nice day. Got discouraged because nothing incredible happened, that was an unrealistic expectation and was never the intention to begin the summer.

Childhood trauma:
Fear: adaptive coping mechanisms (Not sleeping, drugging, precocious sex. sneaking around the house late at night, getting into shit, withdrawn, Become the entertainer, keep everyone laughing so there would be no fighting.)
Guilt: Someone is going to find out, It’s all my fault.
The Judge: I always thought my inner critic was an adult yelling at me, loser, idiot, stupid etc…
Those are words a child uses to another child. (had to get up and type this. right away)
How do you feel? (Sadness and anger) What is your mind doing? (Shutting everything out) Why do we look to our thoughts to tell us how we feel?

Crying, wasn’t expecting this, chapter surprised me.
It’s still going, it won’t fucking end!

You come to a meadow, you see someone (I know where this is going, it’s me, in the picture, I was 4 sitting in the grass playing with my truck, I wasn’t a sad kid, I was happy) What would you do for this child? (anything, that’s what I’m trying to do with L=== that’s why I feel like such a fucking failure) Switch places with the child.. ask the adult what you want, what do you need? (I don’t fucking know, I don’t fucking know) Switch back and forth (I can’t remember) There is someone else standing nearby ( I know where this is going too, it’s the judge, it’s me,) Switch places with the judge… how does it feel to be the judge? (It fuckin’ hurts, pain, it fuckin’ hurts! He is lashing out at the world) What does the world look like through the judge’s eyes? What does he want? What does he need? (I don’t fucking know!) (Lot’s of crying. Finally it’s over, read it again, more crying)

It’s a nice day, I”m going for a walk.

Judge trashed me the whole time I was out.
Did the belly breathing while walking and calmed myself.
Got back from walk.

Reflective Listening? Confusing me with who is who inside my head. J: You talk too much… M: What worries you about me talking to much? J: People you love don’t feel like you are listening to them… M:

My Judge isn’t that nice, he would say: Shut the fuck up, asshole!
Feels like I”m patronizing myself and still don’t know who I am inside my head?

Write down the conversation on a piece of paper and replace, “I” with “he/she” appropriate
pronoun. Sometimes I/he call(s) myself “You”, “You fucking piece of shit! What the fuck is your problem?
Still confused… But I like the idea of separating…
“He’s a piece of shit!”, “Who is a piece of shit? (When I see it printed, it seems to end the conversation.)

Mentoring visualization meditation:
What was the most difficult time of your life? 7-12 grades
What made it so hard? In 7th I was ostracized by my friend’s from the school we came from in a smaller town. They sent me to every counselor and “ist” and the sociologist asked me to write a story and I wrote science fiction and used the word “warped” as in Star Trek, warp speed? So I guess that meant I was crazy she wouldn’t shut up about it. The summer after 8th grade, I had to go to a psychologist with my mother and brother and pretend everything at home was just peachy and everyone wasn’t shitfaced and crazy and fighting all the time. And the fucking guy spazzed on me when I said, “Sorry, I spaced out for a second, I didn’t hear the question” and we spent the whole hour with him asking me exactly why and what I meant by “spaced out” Hasn’t he ever heard hippies talk? They let me into high school.

In high school the studying of me like a specimen continued. I was put in the Resource Room, affectionately known as the “Retard Room.” But the best part of that was I had a free hall pass that let me leave class any time I wanted to go the Resource Room. Nobody ever checked to see if I actually went and half the time I went to see my friend who lived in his friend’s parents basement, behind the soccer fields and smoked weed all day. At night I hung out with the other misfits in the graveyard.
How did it make you feel? Angry, alienated, full of anxiety, distanced, Alone More like I didn’t fit in than most kids naturally feel at that age.
Picture your perfect mentor, what would you want them to say to you at the time? (I had trouble with this one) Me, I would say to myself, the same as I told my daughter. While you are in school it seems like the most important thing in the world but the older you get the less it matters.
(instrumental beat repeating in my head, driving my thoughts, was gone earlier today, during extended listening, returned during walk)

Conditioned Responses: I forget what the 5 steps named but I understood the chapter.
I have always believed that my drinking/drugging was a conditioned response/learned behavior. I don’t believe addiction is a disease that cannot be cured.

Mentor guided meditation:
Wow! I was on the right track on who I wanted to be my mentor. I have never had a more relaxed, positive talk with myself. She asks which emotion is hardest for you. Imagine a situation that creates it. Can you feel it? Now step outside yourself. See that person who is struggling. Ask them how you can be of assistance? Tell them you will be there for them. Be your own best friend.

I think this worked so well for me because I have been doing diaphragmatic slow breathing already.
I will be listening to this as much as possible until it is ingrained in my brain.

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