The following are inspirational hints I sent to the sla-list whilst running the comp.
- 23 April- St George's day
Some of the greatest fears we share are a fear of becoming incapacitated, a fear of financial ruin, fear of abandonment and fear of death. Fear may be the most powerful enemy of humanity. As James Bell writes, "Fear is an insidious virus. Given a breeding place in our minds...it will eat away our spirit and block the forward path of our endeavors." Or, like someone else said, "Fear is called the little death -- it kills in tiny pieces."
Source: © 2001 Steve Goodier from his LifeSupport@topica.com mailing list.
- 2 May
This weeks tip courtesy of my Confidence and self awareness course...
Fear = False Evidence Appearing Real
- 10 May
"I have to do the washing up when I get home."
I have to do the washing up when I get home. Its been getting out of hand, there must be a few days backlog there now. But I've been avoiding the kitchen.
You see. That's where _she_ is.
It seemed like such a good buy. We couldn't believe it was so cheep. Ok so the garden needed a lot of work, very over grown. But then the estate agent explained it had been empty for some time. He wasn't too forth coming about why. But then I suppose we wouldn't have believed him anyway.
It was going to be our chance to begin over again after every thing that happened. I fresh start in a new town where nobody knew us. Where they would be no pointing of fingers, whispering behind our backs, comments being made.
For the first few months it was perfect. Our own place, our own cottage in the country. He worked in the garden, got a nice tan and muscles - a real added benefit. I tided, cleaned and painted the house.
Then things started going wrong.
We started arguing. Again it was little things, He would be late home with no reason, and then complain the tea was cold, or burnt. Or he would complain about the colour of the bedroom. He wanted blue, like the old one. I told him we had come here to get away from the past. He stormed out and came back drunk.
The pendant my mother gave me went missing. I turned the bedroom upside down looking for it, but it was nowhere. A few weeks later my ring vanished. He said he knew nothing.
I was cleaning the kitchen when I found the knife. He said he had packed it and brought it along. But I was sure we had left it behind with every thing else. He said it didn't matter, it was a good knife regardless. I wanted him to get rid of it but he wouldn't.
As the winter nights drew in, the air turned colder. We'd sit in silence using the TV as an excuse not to talk. Watching the clock until it hit the time to retire, and then lie in silence waiting for the other to snore first.
He would come in later and later. He started vanishing at weekends. Work he said, but there was no more money in the bank to show for it. The grass grew long, unattended by him now. I would phone his mobile and get no response.
When he came home drunk, bringing a smell of cheep perfume into the house with him, I challenged him. He said he had done nothing. I told him I knew he was lying. Then he said he despised our new home. Said he hated his garden. Said he was disgusted by yellow wallpaper.
And he left.I sat alone in the kitchen in the dark.
I could hear her voice. Whispering. Taunting. She is revenged.
That now I am left alone, just like she was. Just as he left her for me, I am abandoned for another.
Her creeping voice telling me that there was only one way out.
The moonlight reflecting off the blade of the knife.So I don't go in to the kitchen any more.
Especially after dark because that is when she whispers loudest. I know what I have to do to silence her. But that would make me as week as she was. Still her voice is the only noise in the house now he has gone.But I really must do the washing up.
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