Last go 'round the talking lady wanted me to write down 5 positive sentences about myself, tape them to my bathroom mirror and read them every morning and evening when I brush my teeth. I've been meaning to do this but have had so much going on that it's slipped my mind. And why do I need to write down stuff to tell myself when I now have someone telling me all the nice stuff daily?
This morning I was debating on whether or not I really need to go back to her. I'm feeling good. I'm enjoying my new role as homemaker. I told Mary that I didn't think I needed to go back for the above reason (i.e. my man is good at feeding my ego). I received a stern look and was told that wasn't the same. I need to be telling myself this stuff. Sheesh. Picky, picky.
We started 'homecoming' today where I go back in time to my childhood, remembering houses I lived in, details, and expressing the feelings these places gave/give me. We started work on my inner child. I saw her; talked to her; hugged her and took her inside of me so she will always be with me. She knows I'll always protect her and I know I will never be alone again. Believe it or not, I actually felt better doing with this voodoo shit. Crazy is as crazy does I guess.
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