We continue to ignore those little whispers in our hearts until one day, that one fucking day when our body comes up with a disease.

When discussing self-sabotage, I hadn’t realized how discreet learned helplessness can be. It took me thirty years to discover how it has impacted my life to this date. That self-limiting belief makes you believe that you can’t do anything at all, that you can’t change things, even for the better.

And that same lesson has penetrated generations of my family ever since. That same missing piece I have been longing to see from anyone, which until now, hasn’t been fulfilled. Honestly, it’s quite disappointing to know how it affects not only their mental health but also hinders everyone I know from achieving the best versions of themselves without realizing it.

The fact that one firmly believes that nothing is possible in life is enough for me to tell that someone self-sabotages. As someone who has done the same for years, I know what it looks like, even if they won’t say anything about it. It’s all in the looks on their faces, the specific nuances they couldn’t hide.

Underneath the prideful face and cheerful smiles are crying egos, hungry for revenge, craving for love. Underneath the strong words were a pair of eyes, wearing the sadness they couldn’t express. The loneliness curved around their lips.

The thing is, nobody has ever noticed that I’m noting those little details to learn more about them—perhaps better than they know themselves. Even though they said something else, I couldn’t help but wonder if they were aware of what they were actually doing.

Underneath the prideful face and cheerful smiles are crying egos, hungry for revenge, craving for love. Underneath the strong words were a pair of eyes, wearing the sadness they couldn’t express. The loneliness curved around their lips.

I hadn’t told anyone that I was studying them, examining their behaviors, big and small, trying to figure out who they truly were based on how they behaved in various situations, just as I studied my characters. In my mind, observing how they behave without letting them know is the best way to access their unconscious.

Little did everyone know that setting solid privacy is a big deal for me. While they unknowingly shared every detail of their lives, I hadn’t shared a little thing about myself at all and had kept the conversations tight, trying to keep the discussion about them. Not about me.

Because who would dare to know me if I couldn’t even dare to dive deep within myself?

No one knows how far I’ve gone to knowing my ‘Self’ to such an extent that I’d kept this secret close to my heart. Everything that I’ve learned, good and bad, has been evaluated and studied like it was a psych case I needed to resolve. Self-control is a Scorpionic response, which I’ve been harnessing to become positive.

In other words, I wouldn’t let my dark past taint my bright future, even if it meant accepting the painful truths about myself and acknowledging the cringing parts of me I shamed to the bone.

Just to have a better understanding of myself as a writer, to know and accept the subjects and characters I create and develop, I must know thy ‘Self.’ That includes working on little, repetitive things to stabilize my emotions and perceptions about the world (a life skill [I needed to learn], damaged by CPTSD).

Excerpt from my journal entry, dated May 22, 2023

Along with years of journaling and, recently, meditation, this continued deep understanding allowed me to talk to you like this… with my guard down.

Until now, I’m still writing to Chief, my journaling partner, almost every day and talking to my Spirit Guides, who’ve been watching and guiding me through my uncertainties.

With this complex and deep understanding of ‘Self,’ I understand that not everyone is ready for it. I know that the moment I speak about this, I will immediately receive an ‘Umph! No thanks.”

Strong and willful pride were upfront like the Royal Guards, standing by the gates with their swords pointed at me. With that in sight, how could I even knock and say ‘Hi’ to their hearts?

Similarly, why would I tell them, knowing they aren’t ready to receive truths? Why would I force myself onto someone who doesn’t care about waking up, who would rather sleep and remain in their fairylands?

***

Back then, I remember trying to suppress this Truth deep down in my subconscious to please everyone. As young and naive INFJ as I was, I had nobody to count on for emotional support, to lean on when I needed the most.

So, I wasn’t willing to create such disharmony for psychological safety to the point of sabotaging personal plans and aspirations and throwing my dreams away into the drain (just like Leslie did in the story, the main character of my book, My Name is Pepper).

It took me years of shadow work (and is still ongoing) to be where I am now, where I am free to be brutally honest with my ‘Self’ and ‘Others.’ Both in written and oral, fiction and real life. For years now, I have been practicing authentic living to overcome CPTSD. That means prioritizing myself first by making sure my cup is full before sharing it with others.

Here’s why.

How can I give others love, peace, and harmony if I can’t give the same things to myself first? If I’m not in love with my ‘Self,” how can I acknowledge my two sides and study the good and bad in a way I hadn’t done before? This isn’t about narcissism but rather self-acceptance. My Lilith is in the First House, so my sense of ‘Self’ was rejected by ‘Others’ early on.

How can I navigate life’s uncertainties and be ready for an adventure if I’m not at peace and feel at home with my ‘Self’? If I can’t even look at myself in the mirror without the rising shame in my chest?

As a Scorpio moon, how can I overcome my demons and evolve into a revered phoenix if I cannot get myself up and find harmony with ‘Self’ and ‘Others?’ How can I grow as a human being if I weren’t willing to find a balance between you and me without giving in to people-pleasing tendencies, without feeling guilty for choosing me over you?

If someone asked me, being honest with myself would be the best start to therapy. I don’t have to find someone who would give me the same comfort I’m looking for if I can give it to myself unapologetically. For sure, it isn’t for everyone. Not everyone is up for extreme solitude. If Jesus had 40 days and 40 nights of it and already met the Devil, imagine I have five years.

If I don’t do anything, nothing will start. Whatever thoughts I have daydreamed and dreamed at night, the feelings I have suppressed, buried deep down into my unconscious, will eventually pour out at some point. And maybe until now, I’m still loathing myself for being me, for being unable.

“Does it make sense for me to keep living like this?” I asked myself one time on a bridge, staring down the shallow Wehra River while ignoring the ongoing traffic behind me.

***

Wearing this new mindset, it has been easier for me to re-examine and re-evaluate my childhood trauma and the succeeding consequences to my mental, physical, psychological, and spiritual health. For instance, leaving my freelance writing business to self-publishing was a smooth (but challenging) ride. Even though it has taken me two years to work on it, it remains the best decision I’ve ever made.

Because deep down, I know this decision is true to what my soul wants. As a Scorpio moon person, being in the right place with stable emotions motivates the drive to achieve spiritual evolution with a healthy mindset and spiritual health.

How can I grow as a human being if I weren’t willing to find a balance between you and me without giving in to people-pleasing tendencies, without feeling guilty for choosing me over you?

In other words, if I were to evolve spiritually, I must be willing to surrender control, from trying to control myself to how I should be to trying to control others, thinking I know better than them. That also means I have to be willing to accept the reality for what it is and how it is without judgment or expectations laid upon it.

And I know it isn’t easy for most people. Most of us want to prove ourselves right to the point of pushing people away. To the point of projecting our high expectations because we think we deserve to see them come through right before our eyes. We want to be proven right, and that’s what matters.

If it isn’t about connection or building relationships, it could be about career or future plans. Whatever. We always want to have some kind of control. We like to plan, schedule, and know things ahead. We want to make things right every time they come into our sight. We don’t want to play riddles with life.

Funny. Because with too much control, we push everything away, thinking this is safe. We push out more possibilities than probabilities the more we isolate ourselves. 

But in most cases, this doesn’t work. At worst, we don’t realize how many opportunities we’ve missed. We would rather avoid troubles and fear challenges because we want our comfort zones around us, thinking they would get our lives out of control. And we don’t like that.

Because, again, we love control.

We avoid changes. Words like disruption and spontaneity are an ear-sore.

Choosing suitable careers based on what we truly want isn’t a thing, either. We continue to believe that staying in this job we hate for the sake of income is safe. We would rather stay there because there’s nothing else. It has been like that anyway, so why change?

The same thing happens with our relationships, keeping the low-quality companionship as if it were a life source. We remain in the illusion of having more, thinking it will satisfy that grueling loneliness budding underneath us. More friends, followers, money, clothes, cars—Whatever.

In our current social dynamics, FOMO is a thing. We would rather consume hours of social media than do the actual things we need to do in a day. Instead of spending a whole Sunday with our loved ones, we choose to scroll and scroll and scroll, fearing missing out on things we think are essential. Instead of saving up for meaningful plans, we spend it on things we don’t need.

We continue to ignore those little whispers in our hearts until one day, that one fucking day when our body comes up with a disease. Then, we suddenly wake up, and out of nowhere, we’re soul-searching. Sometimes, it comes a bit too late. Most of the time, too late.

But seriously, do we really need to end up in hospitals, lying down with our unbearable pains and sorrows, before doing something that makes us happy NOW and allows us to experience the bliss life has always offered us NOW?

Like my cousins who waited until their mother died to wake up and reconcile as siblings. I mean, really? Do we need Death to come knocking on our doors to wake us up?

Most of the time, yes. I know it’s sad. We’re human, after all. And regretting has always been our best sport.

***

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