#domagick The L-Bomb- Day 13

This entry gets quite personal.  If you really don’t want to see behind the curtain, please skip.  Part of me considers not posting this at all.  But it’s part of the challenge to post daily.  And vulnerability is supposed to be bravery right?  As a tarot reader, I am expected to come across as having all of my ducks in a row.  But, I’m still human.  And I don’t have any ducks.  I have squirrels.  And they are not even in a row.  They are at a rave.  So if you hold the illusion that, as a tarot reader, I should be inhumanly perfect, walk on by.  Nothing to see here.

Pre-ritual:

I’m in ARAD hell right now, with a dash of autism purgatory.  I hope I didn’t fuck up everything.  My mind is spinning.  Did I say something?  Do something?  Was I too forward?  Too coy?  A neurotypical person would understand what was going on.  I’m not and I don’t.  A neurotypical person would take him at his word that he was tired after training, and just wasn’t in the mood to talk.  But with the hyper focus the past few days on the physical aspects, and then distance tonight, I can’t help but feel a) rejected b) worthless c) unable to be loved and d) that it’s all my fault because I did or said something weird.  Am I destined to be Jenny Fey (Corey Hart’s answer to Eleanor Rigby)?  Should I cancel Friday to ensure that I am not being used?  Should I just end it now before he dumps me?  Is it even “dump” when three months after reconnecting I still don’t know what the fuck we are doing?  FAHHHHH!

I just wish that I was normal right now.  And don’t anyone dare start with “normal is boring” or “be yourself” because unless you know what it’s like to have the dual diagnosis of ARAD and ASD, you are talking from a place of neurotypical privilege.   I have brain damage.  And I work very hard to hide it, overcompensating with the parts of my brain that are not damaged.  Sometimes, when no one is watching closely, I am successful at appearing like everything is okay.  Other times, people pay attention, and I fail at coming across as high functioning.  This is one of those times.

Ritual prep- higher self takes over:

Caroline?  Calm the fuck down.  Go wash your hands and face.  Mindfully boil some water and make your potion.  Better?  Okay, go.

Post ritual: Feeling better?  Good.  You know, this ritual in itself, flooding yourself and the space with love, is actually a banishing.  Remember this one for your bag of banishing tricks.

Okay.  Considering what you have been through, and how men have treated you the past 21 years, and considering your childhood, this is not an entirely unreasonable response.  Your issue right now is A) your an extrovert who is kinda lonely tonight because you were sick and cancelled paint night with Sherri.  You’ve been having a rough time at work and have had no social time to blow off steam.  B.)  You were seeking to have this need filled from an introvert who, as another human being, has his own shit going on, and has had zero time to himself since like the 3rd week in December.  He needs to decompress on his own and not be dealing with your shit right now.  C.)  This is the closest you’ve been to someone in close to a year.  It’s hella scary.  Of course this is causing you anxiety.  Chill out, and find some healthy way to get these social needs met.  Can you finish work a little early and get to Stitch and Bitch?  Maybe for the last half hour.  Maybe that’s all you need. You used to play D&D every Sunday which was at least a guaranteed social outlet.  Maybe it’s time to find another group.  D.)  Perhaps you need to put on your big girl panties and actually have a conversation about where things are heading, and what you want out of this connection.  You are demi-sexual.  You have always known this and know you have a name for it.  Be true to you, and what you know you are capable of.  You are incapable of casual, and if that’s where he’s at, end it now.  You don’t want a repeat of James.  E.)  It’s okay to enjoy the physical aspect.  It *is* possible for two people to be highly sexual *and* have an emotional connection.  Just because he likes the sex doesn’t mean that he doesn’t also like other parts of you.  F.)  Tarot is how you make sense of the world.  You started reading tarot to help you navigate the world you don’t understand.  You are a gifted tarot reader, but yet you have been too chicken shit to pull a spread.  If this was someone else, pulling a few cards would be your go to.  Pull a 4 card spread to see where he is at right now.

10 of wands reversed flew out of the deck while shuffling.

1.) Situation- Page of Cups

2.) Body- Wheel of Fortune

3.) Mind- Two of Pents reversed

4.) Spirit- High Priestess

Seems obvious to me.

Well, that’s a relief.  So, it’s quarter to midnight.  I have to work in the morning.  I’m running on 3 hours of sleep, and sick.  I’m going to let him be until Friday to work out his shit.  Meanwhile, I am going to continue to workout my shit, and try to find some healthy social time with friends.  I’ll communicate with him effectively Friday night.  This is worth hanging on to.

G’night!

 

#domagick The L-Bomb: Day 12

It’s about quarter after 2.  Because it’s the wee hours, I decided to have my EVP on during ritual.  I got the words AGE, LADY, SLOWLY and GRANDPA.

All of these words are meaningful to this recovery process.  I have been thinking about my age, and my skill level.  I have confidence in myself most of the time, but then there are other times when I see someone who is “more” than I am, and all of the sudden, I start acting like a keener.  I am too fucking old to be playing the role of the neophyte.  It’s time I owned some level of mastery.  I’m not a girl anymore.  I am a lady.

As I was thinking about the gentleman that I am involved with, I was focusing on the slow pace we have been moving.  I reconnected with him in early November.  Things started becoming physical late December.  And now we’re in mid January, and we have yet to define what’s going on.  He’s started to focus quite a bit more on the physical.  And that leaves me wondering “is that all he wants”.  I’m so reluctant to get my hopes up.  Since the break up in the spring, there have been three men who seemed very interested, and then either changed their minds about entering a relationship, or completely ghosted, just as I was starting to feel safe opening up.  Is it even worth getting my hopes up?

And of course, Grandpa.  I have no memories of my maternal grandfather, but my paternal grandfather passed away when I was 16.  In this life, my grandfather exhibited some not so honourable behaviour.  But yet, I had a special relationship with him.  We’d play crokinole until my fingers bled, and hand after hand of cards.  He never went easy on me.  My grandmother was a very special lady.  I miss her a lot.  But when she was in hospital, I would ride my bike over to visit grandpa, and he’d try his best to be a good host, serving leftover cookies that grandma always had on hand.  In the afterlife, my grandfather has shown himself to be a protector.  This seems to be a message that he is here to help in this situation, and that, though he never told me, he did love me.

So Day 12 is done and I am off to bed.

After ritual, I left my EVP on, and got the words TEASE, HOT and SCORE.  Apparently, my kinky ghost is back.  I should probably banish and get some sleep.  Full day tomorrow.  No rest for the fabulous.

 

#domagick The L-Bomb: day 11

I’m a bit behind on blogging the rituals, but I will catch up.

In feeling very vulnerable about blogging these ritual entries, there have been others who have come out to commend me on my courage.  This has been very meaningful and encouraging.  This is hard work, and putting it on display for the world to see is even harder.

I found it a bit hard to stay focused on me giving my mantra to me.  I would envision others saying it to me, as if I needed some sort of external validation that I possessed the quality of loveable.  I would envision saying it to others, as there have been so many times in my life that I wanted to say it, but didn’t dare because I knew that it would not be said back, or if it was, would be said back with a disingenuous motive.

I tell my kid that I love her constantly.  Being a teenager, there is copious eye rolling and sighs of annoyance.  She’ll say things like “Well, that was random” or “Um… I know.  Because you JUST told me 5 minutes ago.”  But she needs to hear that word, because I never did.  I don’t want her to end up as broken and violated as I am because of how desperate she was to hear it.

It’s supposed to be the most beautiful and natural feeling that humans can have, and it has caused me so much pain.  I feel shame for how I behaved- trying to obtain it from others, lashing out when I didn’t, and pushing others away when they may have come close.  I can’t change the past.  But I am having trouble extending compassion to myself because of it.

#domagick The L-Bomb: Day 10

To preface this entry, I should note that I am not Wiccan, that I do not identify as a witch, and that as a Druid, I do not subscribe to “harm none” or “rule of 3”.  I will at some point write an entry about the ethics of curses, but at this point, let’s just say that Druids have a tradition of laying curses when wronged, and that Celts are not door mats when someone has slighted them.

So, I haven’t laid a curse in quite a while.  It’s not something that I do a lot, or something that I do lightly.  It’s serious business and hard work.  But I have found that, over the past few years, I have let a lot of things slide that I shouldn’t have.  As I learn to love myself, I am now thinking “Hey, that was NOT okay!”.  But yet, I took way too many things laying down.  I didn’t value myself enough to right some serious wrongs.

One wouldn’t think that a daily ritual on love would involve cursing, but I now care enough about myself to stand up for myself.  I’m not talking about someone who cut me off in traffic, or the waitress getting my order wrong.  I am talking about those who have taken deliberate and malicious acts towards me, that have had a negative impact on my life, that I just let them get away with.  Not okay.

So now, I am setting a standard of how I am to be treated, and those who act deliberately malicious towards me will be made an example of.  My shit list sounds like Arya Stark’s right now.

Challenge is now 1/3 completed.

#domagick The L-Bomb: Day 9

Posting these publicly is making me feel very vulnerable.  Usually, on Facebook, I have 4 levels of security.  I have my business page, which is curated and created to talk mostly about tarot and my business, and a bit about personal interest (it links from my instagram).  There’s my public Facebook, which is still fairly safe for work, but also shows my personality more- my sense of humour, a little more edgy.  There’s my friends list, which is a little more personal, and maybe not for the consumption of those browsing who I am.  And then, there’s my safe list, which is where I show Oz to those I trust.  It’s set for those people who I feel give a crap about me, and want to know what’s really going on in my life.  This is where I vent, show insecurities, ask for support, rant, scream, cry.  So with this challenge being so very personal, it’s challenging to know that this is out there for all to see- customers and potential clients, casual acquaintances, and close friends alike.  It’s like going outside naked… in Canadian January.  I am hoping that my vulnerability is seen as inspiring bravery and growth, and not weakness or brokenness.  Despite having experienced some really shitty stuff, I’m still a competent tarot reader.  really hoping this doesn’t backlash to hurt my business.

Tuesday night was an amazing night!  A regular client booked the evening with two of her friends.  The tarot room would have been a little too cozy, so we sat at the kitchen table, drank tea, talked and laughed, while I empowered these women with tarot.  The next day was such a contrast at the muggle job.  I was back to back all day, with my boss nickel and diming me, and deducting me for going the extra mile for my elderly and disabled clients.  I would NEVER run a business like that.  And I would NEVER discourage an employee from providing good customer service.  I was ran off my feet, 9 hours straight with no break (yes, it’s legal because my shifts are 45 minutes long, I just have 9 of them back to back and have to drive from house to house).  I found myself at a drive through getting lunch and missing my mother.  I haven’t spoken to her in probably six years.  For a split second, I entertained contacting her and allowing her back into my life.  But then I remembered that letting her in means exposing myself to her lies, theft, fraud, the drugs, and gushing about her latest husband like a teenager.  Despite my struggles to be loved, my mother is never single, typically with overlapping relationships between marriages.  I need to stay far away from that destructive woman.  But I longed for motherly love.  I was home sick for a woman who never existed.  I put a call out on Facebook for a physical hug.  I fully understand that my friends are busy and did not schedule my little emotional breakdown and crying while I’m driving.  My friends are allowed to have lives of their own.  But I still felt unloved.  I still desperately felt like I wanted to be held and do cry on a shoulder of someone who believed in me.  I know my friends believe in me.  I’m struggling with the fact that my family doesn’t.  For the longest time, my dad would not let me say the word “tarot” around him.  He would bait me to say it just so he could exude some sort of facade of religious smugness.  He really has no idea what I do, or how good I am at it.  He’s kinda shut his mouth about how much he hates tarot since he started seeing how lucrative it is, and how poor my muggle job working conditions are.  I ache to hear him tell me that he believes in me.  Or at least, for him to listen to what it is I do, and how I make such a profound difference in the lives of my clients.  It’s still that Empress energy that I crave- that nurturing, accepting love that I have never really known.  I have entered my first depressive episode since starting medication over a year ago.  I am really hoping that the next 21 days improve this situation.

Ritual happened late into the night, and was blogged about the next day.

#domagick The L-Bomb: Day 8

So… I don’t want to jinx this, but over the past few weeks, someone rather wonderful has entered my life.  I’ve been so afraid of getting my hopes up.  This is the first man who I’ve ever had mutual interest with whom I don’t feel I have to make excuses for his red flags.  In fact, so far, there aren’t any red flags.  My last relationship hurt so much, not because of how much I had loved him, but because I somehow came to believe that a mooching, whining, hobbit who lived in squalor and looked like a homeless person was the best I could do.  And this new guy just shines like a brand new coin.  Am I really worthy of a great guy?  Am I worthy of a great guy who sees me as a great woman?  Which then leads to “what if”.  What if he finds out that I’m trailer trash? (I’m not but I grew up being told I was).  What if he finds out just how dysfunctional my family is?  What if he finds out just how broken I am?  We have not connected on Facebook yet, but can I tell you how terrified I am of him discovering this blog?  Is it safe to show him Oz?  Part of me wants to hide me, and part of me wants to show him everything.  We all have flaws, but there’s almost a knee jerk reaction to want to drive him away to protect myself.  Dropping my guard and then being abandoned is always the worst that I can experience as someone with ARAD.  I don’t want to say to much at this point, but we are taking things slow and enjoying each other as we get to know each other and become closer.  I find I am keeping him at an arms length, because I’ve always held this internal belief that I am not to be loved.  It’s not that I am not worthy or deserving of being loved, but I have believed that I simply didn’t possess the quality of loveable.  Which is such a cruel prank of “the universe” because I love so easily. This ritual, this mantra, makes the old beliefs so uncomfortable.  As I start to believe myself, I find that I am being thrown into a state of cognitive dissonance.  If I am simply not loveable, how is it that I can love myself?  Over the next 22 days, these conflicting beliefs will battle themselves out.  There can be only one (cue Highlander music).

#domagick The L-Bomb: Day 7

One week into this.  It’s going well.  I’m not sure what I was expecting.  I’m not sure the goal of the outcome.  But, I am far more comfortable with the word “love”.  I look forward to doing this ritual, and it doesn’t feel awkward or uncomfortable anymore.

Today I changed things up a bit.  I told myself that I love myself as I am.  I love myself because of my flaws, my quirks, my talents and my gifts.  I love my imperfections, my strive for balance, my honesty, my determination, my steadfastness and my unwavering nature.  But than I thought, should I need a reason to love myself?  We all hide the not so pleasant parts of ourselves, and embracing both my light and my shadow is important to me.  I get a lot of flack for it.  As a tarot reader, I’m supposed to be all light and love all the time.  But to me, that tastes bitter like artificial candy.  The white-lighter types can’t handle my down-to-earth nature.  I scare them.  I am okay with that.  I want to be as authentically me as I can be- a full spectrum of dark and light, of greens and greys.  I want to be the ripest, juiciest peach plucked right from the tree.  Fuck those jealous aspartame bitches!  I am going to be me, because I have no interest in pretending to be one of them.

Just shy of 1/4 done this challenge.

#domagick The L-Bomb: Day 6

New years eve!

This day is always tough for me.  By far my greatest emotional scar is the death of my older brother when I was 10.   New Years Eve is his birthday.  He would have been 40.  I was able to remember him fondly, his distinct laugh, and still able to go out and celebrate with friends.  Although, as much of a night owl as I am, I was beat by 1030, and had to force myself to stay out until midnight.

I got home and did ritual, showing absolute compassion to myself with each utterance of the mantra.  It felt comforting.

Challenge is 20% completed.

#domagick The L-Bomb: Day 5

It was 11pm, I was just about to crawl into bead, and then realized “Oh crap! I haven’t done ritual yet!”  I had a good day, really connecting with my muggle job clients.  After work, a friend came to visit.  He and I have been friends for almost a decade.  I’ve known him since 2nd year of university.  He moved away for work a few years ago, and was back visiting family for the holidays.  He no doubt reads my blog.  We were catching up, and he said to me “I’m glad to hear you are doing well, because I love you and I worry about you.”  He said it in the most platonic and caring way.  It was not boundary crossing, or a declaration of romance.  Just someone who genuinely cares and loves me for me.  But me, being as awkward as I am, was thrown off guard.  I didn’t really know how to react.  Was I obligated to say it back?  I mean, I have the same kind of platonic love.  But with the word being so foreign, I don’t know what the rules are.  As he was leaving, he said “By Caroline, Happy new year!  I love you! ” and got back in his car.  Again, it was said respectfully and within boundaries.  I will get used to this.  But I think I fear that more casual friends reading this will throw the word at me because they feel I need to hear it.  And in that case, I feel like it will lose meaning.

Ritual went well, and felt good.  Though I am very tired and it was kinda rushed.  I’m do work earlier tomorrow, so I should be able to get it done long before going out for NYE celebrations.

#domagick The L-Bomb: Day 4

I did today’s ritual while I was home for lunch.  Not much time to write today. I’m actually over due to be at a client’s house right now.

The L word didn’t feel itchy today.  It had a bit of a warmth to it.

When I started the ritual, I was thinking about what tarot card most resonated with it.  Obvious choice was The Lovers, but I don’t think that’s accurate.  Strength would be another close choice, but not quite it.  Really, it’s The Empress combined with Three of Swords reversed.  Maybe a little Three of Cups in there.  This is far less about a word, or a partnership, than it is about nurturing and healing.  The Empress is often called “The Mother Card”.  I am giving myself the word that I did not hear when I was young, that my parents were incapable of saying and that my mother is incapable of giving.  I have no contact with my mother for my own protection.

I believe that my father does love me, but he shows his love through gifts and through acts of service.  He has never said the word to me, probably because he never heard it from his father.  But he says “When’s the last time you checked the air in your tires?” and “Have you checked the oil in the lawnmower”.  His health is not good, but I know that if I am in trouble, he will do everything in his power to help.  Two weeks ago, I was filling up the car, and my debit card wasn’t in my wallet.  He drove across town to bail me out of the jam.  If he is ever asked why, he says “Because that’s what dads do.”  I told my dad that I loved him once.  He said “What do you want?”  I replied “Nothing, I just wanted to tell you that I loved you.”  He took a deep inhale, there was an awkward moment of silence, and he said “well, you know I love all my girls”.  That may be the best I ever get out of him.

I make sure that my daughter hears the word every time I talk to her.

So day 4 is done.  And I am back to work.  Geriatric bottoms are not going to wash themselves.

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