Personally I have fed my bad wolf for 20 years or so. It's brought me to my knees more times then I like to share with myself or others. It's ravaged my life and stolen things from me that I love so much. This is the first time in my life that I have had a chance to be really honest with myself and nurture me just for me. It's a little scary but I embrace my journey. I journal, I have for years but usually out of pain and fear and desperation. This experience is different and I thank you
Thirty years ago you didn't quit a job without having another, it was considered highly irresponsible. But after 9 years my work had become meaningless, and an incident (regarding bonuses) that didn't set right with me was the moment I decided I was done. I gave a healthy notice, and in return my boss let me keep my company car for a few extra months until I could get my own car. It was a very good departure.
With only myself to worry about and 10K in my checking account, I made a commitment that I would not work again until I found exactly what I wanted to do. And, if needed, I would fall back on my college waitressing experience before I would take something just to get a paycheck. The support of family and friends varied, some were afraid for me, some thought I was ridiculous, but my parents and siblings were there for me. When I got cold feet about the fact I would have to buy a car with some of that 10K, my mom said, "It's just a car payment, half the world has them." OK, that was my mom.
I have no idea what I had inside of me that knew I would find something, but I knew. A wonderfully serendipitous path, five months after I quit my job, lead me to work in an industry that I didn't even know existed. It met every one of the five qualities I wanted in my next work (including I didn't have to wear nylons). The joy and satisfaction I felt gave me the confidence and determination I needed to start in a new company, in a new industry, where I was by far, the oldest new kid on the block.
About a year into this new adventure, I had a dream that I was standing in the second story of a familiar home (houses are a consistent theme in my dreams) and noticed light where I had not seen it before. I turned to look for the source of that light and there behind me I was shocked to see a room full of windows with a view of nature that made me cry. I thought, I'd been in this room a million times and I have never seen that view. And then I remember a wash of happiness, realizing, in this new life, all I had to do was "turn around and look." In 2018 I retired from work in that same industry.
Good Morning at 4:00 am from Denver Co . Looks like we early birds are part of the insomniacs . I can never remember my dreams when I wake up so I can't help in this area. I like this parable stated today. I went to a movie called the "The Journey" with Andrea Bocelli and his wife on horseback through 200 miles of Italy countryside. She asked him how he got peace in his life and he answered ""No Guilt, No Regrets, and AN Appreciation for Life" I put that on my phone and repeat it several times a day and text it to my children. Those things seemed to have been bothering my sleep. It seems to be working. May we all feed the good wolf inside of us for the rest of the time that we have on this earth .
Awake at 1:30am (is the “am” really necessary?), two hours spent resenting the daytime worries that have enough of my attention when the sun is up, I decided it’s time for some tea and toast. It also turns out that 3am is a great time to hide a couple dozen large, foil-wrapped, chocolate easter eggs for my roommate to hunt down in the morning. However, heading back to bed with my tea and toast, my mind is now kept busy wondering what is in the giant, cellophane-wrapped easter basket surprise sitting on my side of the couch. While that is so much better than daytime worry thoughts, I don’t hold out much hope in maybe grabbing a couple more hours of sleep before I get to find out.
I’ve struggled with anxiety and insomnia too. Sometimes I get up and physically dance, or draw with crayons on a poster, perhaps read the psalms (feeding the good wolf). This really helps.
Deep dreams in the morning usually arrive between 4 and 6 am. Recently my Uncle Eddie appeared. We had a good lively talk about being fathers with daughters... how they need loving safety and order. Woke up with gratitude.
There is another reoccurring dream I have; infrequent and magical. I am walking, which becomes running and then flying—effortlessly into a night sky.
This afternoon I walked down to the beach in front of our rental to stroll along the water’s edge. Hot, hotter and hottest today, maybe 80 degrees, but there is a breeze casual and constant.
I like to bring my phone and headset with me, play my favorite tunes and dance like no one is watching (which is often the case as the beach is largely deserted this time of year).
Today I chose music ethereal and luring. I dance without commitment, then with more intention. I spread my arms and push against the breeze—up, down, up, down. I dip my body low, towards the ground; then I lift my body up to the sky. I will myself to fly, to be in my dream, to grow wings and take flight. Briefly the unconscious dream becomes conscious and I feel my body lighten. My feet leave the ground and I am flying at the water’s edge. I am eyes wide open flying. Just for a moment, and then it is gone and I feel the sand between my toes and the weight of my body and I am walking again, listening to music, through the dunes, to the deck and back.
My sleep is always fractured. I have chronic pain so many times it's because of that but every night, pain or not, I struggle to get back to sleep after waking many times throughout. Sometimes I do get up at 3:30 am or so. I don't allow myself to get upset about it, because that makes it worse, of course. I grew up in a family where physical affection or saying "I love you," was simply not a part of my experience. It would have felt out of place. Years later, my mother became very ill. We lived three hours away from each other and didn't see each other often as both of us had trouble driving (my mom had given up years before and my own anxiety kept me from the Los Angeles freeways). One night I had a dream. In the dream, I was lying in bed and my mother came into the room wearing a long white nightgown. She came over to the bed and fell into my arms weeping. I held her. Even in the dream I knew it was an experience that was so out of place for our relationship Three weeks later I braved the Los Angeles freeways to go see her. As I sat on her couch, she came into the room and fell into my arms and began weeping. I was already experiencing a panic attack just being there...the small bachelor apartment filled with her exhaled cigarette smoke, her illness, our wariness around each other. But immediately the dream felt like a foreshadow of the moment. I felt as if I had been shown this was going to happen so that I could better handle a beautiful moment in our relationship. I held her, comforting her as best I could. My body felt like fleeing but the dream held me in place for her in that moment. I've had many dreams that have felt meaningful over the years, and this is one I will never forget and cherish,
Thank you for reminding me of the beautiful good wolf, bad wolf parable. I’m going to bring it back into use, which for me, right now, means feeding the wolf that says, I’m enough, I get plenty done, rather than the one which says you’re too slow, you don’t produce enough.
I remember that horrible anxiety-fuelled insomnia from my chemotherapy days only too well. I’m so glad you’ve made the wise choice to do CBT for insomnia & I wish you lots of luck with it ❤️
A friend of mine says, "Feed your hope. Starve your fear." Similar advice.
Re: dreams..... Unfortunately they are problematic for someone with C-PTSD like myself. My dreams are very rarely pleasant or even neutral. Usually they are trauma-related nightmares, and occasionally true night terrors (during one of which I clenched my jaw hard enough to shatter a molar). I've been in therapy forever, have some good tools and tons of support. But sleep is the time when I am completely vulnerable, the stretch of road where I get ambushed. Just the way it is, unfortunately.
This is so true for me. It helped me understand that feeding the bad wolf not only causes harm to me but also poses a threat or the harm spreads to the ones I love. Anxiety drives my life, even more so now that I am recovering from a recent illness. What a lovely idea or notion to live in the here and now, which is often a lovely place to be. I too toss and turn at night, trying to force sleep. I hope for everyone who is troubled by insomnia and anxiety to find some peace today.
When I had my breast cancer diagnosis in Dec 2021 I started having anxiety which culminated into waking up at 3am with insomnia. What I did is asked myself questions...where are you now? I am in bed now with my husband. Are you comfortable and warm? Yes I am. Are you safe? Yes I am safe. Are you afraid? Yes I am afraid. What are you afraid of? I am afraid of death. Do not be afraid of death. You are alive now. Then I would breathe in through my nose to the count of 8 then breathe out my nose to a count of 8 eight times because this regulates our brain and flight or fight stuff. Sometimes that did not work( which is okay) and I would say fuck it and go downstairs, make myself some tea and just sit in whatever I was feeling. Several of these times were truly magical. One of these moments the whole downstairs filled with the scent of incense and I knew my Grandmother's energy was with me. Most of the time I would sit with my tea in the dim quiet and give myself grace for feeling what I was feeling instead of fighting it. Sometimes I would weep and it would be a blessed relief. I would be grateful for the kleenex and tears and tea. Sometimes our cat Oona would find me and she reminded me too that I was still here to feel her fur, hear her purr and watch her sassy ass spunkiness. Sometimes I would watch the sun come up. Sometimes I would stumble back to bed and sleep deeply for 4 more hours. Getting up, making tea for myself(chamomile with milk and honey) allowing myself grace for all my feels became a ritual of solace and grace instead of anxiety. I am sending you lots of love energy. 💫🌠💫
i'll share a short, true story that i heard from a chilean friend. his friend's niece was chosen to be an apprentice to a "machi" -- a traditional medicine woman. she asked her uncle if he would be her "padrino" (godfather) on this journey. one of the requirements as her padrino was to travel 3 days away from his home to the mountains and spend all of the time completely alone to purify himself. he had only one instruction -- to dream.
I am a new paid subscriber and now I ask myself "what took me so long!!!!" That you would be anxious is not surprising and it's not unusual that you should have interrupted sleep. Please don't judge yourself! Instead feed the loving wolf and love yourself with understanding kindness. Your therapist seems wise and particularly so for a writer. I remember when my daughter was ill with AML, my sleep was often interrupted with anxiety for my beautiful daughter. My therapist suggested many of the same ideas and in particular she suggested that before I got out of bed, that I had a "dream journal" at my bedside, and I jot down what I recall of any dreams I was having at the moment. Maybe the dream means nothing, but to a writer, a dream always has some value. I still keep my journal bedside and if I wake up in the middle of the night --If I've been dreaming, I jot down some words about that dream. the great thing is that sometimes the recording makes me sleepy and I go back to sleep. Much love to you!
I recently read " Steppenwolf" a Novel by Hemann Hesse brilliantly written. Originally published in Germany in 1927. Reading this book truly applies to day half wolf 🐺 and half human.. The battles and the profound options you have your choices, but your habits overshadow you.. We all need to respect ourselves enough to surrender to our own self-love that where it begins. 🙏🏼
Timely, timely prompt. Friday night had a dream that ripped open an otherwise nicely closed wound from the past. In threatened to flow the old hurt, the mostly healed anger. And of course, the dream happened on top of a real time replay of behavior by family. How could that still get me, and how dare it show up vividly in my dream?! I admit, I spent yesterday feeding the wolf of how dare they? Shifting this morning to feeding the integrity, feeding the strength, and choosing to feed love.
Personally I have fed my bad wolf for 20 years or so. It's brought me to my knees more times then I like to share with myself or others. It's ravaged my life and stolen things from me that I love so much. This is the first time in my life that I have had a chance to be really honest with myself and nurture me just for me. It's a little scary but I embrace my journey. I journal, I have for years but usually out of pain and fear and desperation. This experience is different and I thank you
Thirty years ago you didn't quit a job without having another, it was considered highly irresponsible. But after 9 years my work had become meaningless, and an incident (regarding bonuses) that didn't set right with me was the moment I decided I was done. I gave a healthy notice, and in return my boss let me keep my company car for a few extra months until I could get my own car. It was a very good departure.
With only myself to worry about and 10K in my checking account, I made a commitment that I would not work again until I found exactly what I wanted to do. And, if needed, I would fall back on my college waitressing experience before I would take something just to get a paycheck. The support of family and friends varied, some were afraid for me, some thought I was ridiculous, but my parents and siblings were there for me. When I got cold feet about the fact I would have to buy a car with some of that 10K, my mom said, "It's just a car payment, half the world has them." OK, that was my mom.
I have no idea what I had inside of me that knew I would find something, but I knew. A wonderfully serendipitous path, five months after I quit my job, lead me to work in an industry that I didn't even know existed. It met every one of the five qualities I wanted in my next work (including I didn't have to wear nylons). The joy and satisfaction I felt gave me the confidence and determination I needed to start in a new company, in a new industry, where I was by far, the oldest new kid on the block.
About a year into this new adventure, I had a dream that I was standing in the second story of a familiar home (houses are a consistent theme in my dreams) and noticed light where I had not seen it before. I turned to look for the source of that light and there behind me I was shocked to see a room full of windows with a view of nature that made me cry. I thought, I'd been in this room a million times and I have never seen that view. And then I remember a wash of happiness, realizing, in this new life, all I had to do was "turn around and look." In 2018 I retired from work in that same industry.
Good Morning at 4:00 am from Denver Co . Looks like we early birds are part of the insomniacs . I can never remember my dreams when I wake up so I can't help in this area. I like this parable stated today. I went to a movie called the "The Journey" with Andrea Bocelli and his wife on horseback through 200 miles of Italy countryside. She asked him how he got peace in his life and he answered ""No Guilt, No Regrets, and AN Appreciation for Life" I put that on my phone and repeat it several times a day and text it to my children. Those things seemed to have been bothering my sleep. It seems to be working. May we all feed the good wolf inside of us for the rest of the time that we have on this earth .
Awake at 1:30am (is the “am” really necessary?), two hours spent resenting the daytime worries that have enough of my attention when the sun is up, I decided it’s time for some tea and toast. It also turns out that 3am is a great time to hide a couple dozen large, foil-wrapped, chocolate easter eggs for my roommate to hunt down in the morning. However, heading back to bed with my tea and toast, my mind is now kept busy wondering what is in the giant, cellophane-wrapped easter basket surprise sitting on my side of the couch. While that is so much better than daytime worry thoughts, I don’t hold out much hope in maybe grabbing a couple more hours of sleep before I get to find out.
I’ve struggled with anxiety and insomnia too. Sometimes I get up and physically dance, or draw with crayons on a poster, perhaps read the psalms (feeding the good wolf). This really helps.
Deep dreams in the morning usually arrive between 4 and 6 am. Recently my Uncle Eddie appeared. We had a good lively talk about being fathers with daughters... how they need loving safety and order. Woke up with gratitude.
There is another reoccurring dream I have; infrequent and magical. I am walking, which becomes running and then flying—effortlessly into a night sky.
This afternoon I walked down to the beach in front of our rental to stroll along the water’s edge. Hot, hotter and hottest today, maybe 80 degrees, but there is a breeze casual and constant.
I like to bring my phone and headset with me, play my favorite tunes and dance like no one is watching (which is often the case as the beach is largely deserted this time of year).
Today I chose music ethereal and luring. I dance without commitment, then with more intention. I spread my arms and push against the breeze—up, down, up, down. I dip my body low, towards the ground; then I lift my body up to the sky. I will myself to fly, to be in my dream, to grow wings and take flight. Briefly the unconscious dream becomes conscious and I feel my body lighten. My feet leave the ground and I am flying at the water’s edge. I am eyes wide open flying. Just for a moment, and then it is gone and I feel the sand between my toes and the weight of my body and I am walking again, listening to music, through the dunes, to the deck and back.
My sleep is always fractured. I have chronic pain so many times it's because of that but every night, pain or not, I struggle to get back to sleep after waking many times throughout. Sometimes I do get up at 3:30 am or so. I don't allow myself to get upset about it, because that makes it worse, of course. I grew up in a family where physical affection or saying "I love you," was simply not a part of my experience. It would have felt out of place. Years later, my mother became very ill. We lived three hours away from each other and didn't see each other often as both of us had trouble driving (my mom had given up years before and my own anxiety kept me from the Los Angeles freeways). One night I had a dream. In the dream, I was lying in bed and my mother came into the room wearing a long white nightgown. She came over to the bed and fell into my arms weeping. I held her. Even in the dream I knew it was an experience that was so out of place for our relationship Three weeks later I braved the Los Angeles freeways to go see her. As I sat on her couch, she came into the room and fell into my arms and began weeping. I was already experiencing a panic attack just being there...the small bachelor apartment filled with her exhaled cigarette smoke, her illness, our wariness around each other. But immediately the dream felt like a foreshadow of the moment. I felt as if I had been shown this was going to happen so that I could better handle a beautiful moment in our relationship. I held her, comforting her as best I could. My body felt like fleeing but the dream held me in place for her in that moment. I've had many dreams that have felt meaningful over the years, and this is one I will never forget and cherish,
Thank you for reminding me of the beautiful good wolf, bad wolf parable. I’m going to bring it back into use, which for me, right now, means feeding the wolf that says, I’m enough, I get plenty done, rather than the one which says you’re too slow, you don’t produce enough.
I remember that horrible anxiety-fuelled insomnia from my chemotherapy days only too well. I’m so glad you’ve made the wise choice to do CBT for insomnia & I wish you lots of luck with it ❤️
Ufa,"the one you feed" that is going to stick with me.
Here in Rome to say good luck we say" in bocca al lupo" (in the mouth of the wolf) and the response is crepi! (may it die)
A friend of mine says, "Feed your hope. Starve your fear." Similar advice.
Re: dreams..... Unfortunately they are problematic for someone with C-PTSD like myself. My dreams are very rarely pleasant or even neutral. Usually they are trauma-related nightmares, and occasionally true night terrors (during one of which I clenched my jaw hard enough to shatter a molar). I've been in therapy forever, have some good tools and tons of support. But sleep is the time when I am completely vulnerable, the stretch of road where I get ambushed. Just the way it is, unfortunately.
This is so true for me. It helped me understand that feeding the bad wolf not only causes harm to me but also poses a threat or the harm spreads to the ones I love. Anxiety drives my life, even more so now that I am recovering from a recent illness. What a lovely idea or notion to live in the here and now, which is often a lovely place to be. I too toss and turn at night, trying to force sleep. I hope for everyone who is troubled by insomnia and anxiety to find some peace today.
When I had my breast cancer diagnosis in Dec 2021 I started having anxiety which culminated into waking up at 3am with insomnia. What I did is asked myself questions...where are you now? I am in bed now with my husband. Are you comfortable and warm? Yes I am. Are you safe? Yes I am safe. Are you afraid? Yes I am afraid. What are you afraid of? I am afraid of death. Do not be afraid of death. You are alive now. Then I would breathe in through my nose to the count of 8 then breathe out my nose to a count of 8 eight times because this regulates our brain and flight or fight stuff. Sometimes that did not work( which is okay) and I would say fuck it and go downstairs, make myself some tea and just sit in whatever I was feeling. Several of these times were truly magical. One of these moments the whole downstairs filled with the scent of incense and I knew my Grandmother's energy was with me. Most of the time I would sit with my tea in the dim quiet and give myself grace for feeling what I was feeling instead of fighting it. Sometimes I would weep and it would be a blessed relief. I would be grateful for the kleenex and tears and tea. Sometimes our cat Oona would find me and she reminded me too that I was still here to feel her fur, hear her purr and watch her sassy ass spunkiness. Sometimes I would watch the sun come up. Sometimes I would stumble back to bed and sleep deeply for 4 more hours. Getting up, making tea for myself(chamomile with milk and honey) allowing myself grace for all my feels became a ritual of solace and grace instead of anxiety. I am sending you lots of love energy. 💫🌠💫
i'll share a short, true story that i heard from a chilean friend. his friend's niece was chosen to be an apprentice to a "machi" -- a traditional medicine woman. she asked her uncle if he would be her "padrino" (godfather) on this journey. one of the requirements as her padrino was to travel 3 days away from his home to the mountains and spend all of the time completely alone to purify himself. he had only one instruction -- to dream.
I am a new paid subscriber and now I ask myself "what took me so long!!!!" That you would be anxious is not surprising and it's not unusual that you should have interrupted sleep. Please don't judge yourself! Instead feed the loving wolf and love yourself with understanding kindness. Your therapist seems wise and particularly so for a writer. I remember when my daughter was ill with AML, my sleep was often interrupted with anxiety for my beautiful daughter. My therapist suggested many of the same ideas and in particular she suggested that before I got out of bed, that I had a "dream journal" at my bedside, and I jot down what I recall of any dreams I was having at the moment. Maybe the dream means nothing, but to a writer, a dream always has some value. I still keep my journal bedside and if I wake up in the middle of the night --If I've been dreaming, I jot down some words about that dream. the great thing is that sometimes the recording makes me sleepy and I go back to sleep. Much love to you!
I recently read " Steppenwolf" a Novel by Hemann Hesse brilliantly written. Originally published in Germany in 1927. Reading this book truly applies to day half wolf 🐺 and half human.. The battles and the profound options you have your choices, but your habits overshadow you.. We all need to respect ourselves enough to surrender to our own self-love that where it begins. 🙏🏼
Timely, timely prompt. Friday night had a dream that ripped open an otherwise nicely closed wound from the past. In threatened to flow the old hurt, the mostly healed anger. And of course, the dream happened on top of a real time replay of behavior by family. How could that still get me, and how dare it show up vividly in my dream?! I admit, I spent yesterday feeding the wolf of how dare they? Shifting this morning to feeding the integrity, feeding the strength, and choosing to feed love.