Do you like the color of your eyes enough?

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Well, I was watching these cutie girls having fun and changing their eye color; I have been always tempted to put some in the bright colors I would have loved to have naturally mine.

But then I have something that keeps me from doing it. Eye color to me is like my Personality. Sure, I like to play with make up, but still very natural, and the less is more concept really suits me.

What do you think? Would you put another eye color for everyday life or just one shot?

This video reassured me alittle. The fact is that I am a single lady and of course, I wonder if I could do something to attract that special one but if this happened because of a fake plastic eye color it would really disappoint me.

I am not the kind of wow girl, despite aries like to get the attention even though they are shy like me. Yes, I like to strike sometimes. But, in normal life, nope, I stick into my very own and personal kind of brown and that’s all for now.

The girl I was watching on the video is black, she is wearing fake hair, fake nails and fake colored eye contact lenses. Quite enough for me to say “You are not loving your Self enough”.

Are you?

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Sinead’s letter in THE IRISH TIMES 1993.

Sinead oconnor montreal hotel room 1990 billboard 650.jpg?ixlib=rails 2.1My name is Sinead O’Connor. I am learning to love myself. I am deserving. I deserve to be treated with respect. I deserve not to be treated like dirt. I deserve to be listened to. I am a member of the human race. I deserve not to be hurt. My name is Sinead O’Connor. I am a woman. I have something to offer. I am and have always been carrying a lot of grief for my lost childhood. And for the effects of its horror and violence on my life. I am grieving the loss of my mother and father. I am grieving the loss of my brothers and sister. The division of my family. The loss of my SELF. My own inner child Who is really me. (Remember you do not know me). Who was tortured and abandoned and spat at and abused. Who has been beaten naked until she was bruised. Who has grown up with no sense of self-esteem. No sense of trust. No ability to be intimate and who therefore is in very great pain which needs to be looked at and worked through and expressed. So that I can be free of its effects on my life. Which are many and varied. I have been experiencing the need to be held. Which I have realized Is the governor of all my behaviours. Both productive and destructive. This is why I didn’t show up on Saturday… I find it hard to be myself. To show my feelings. To get to the joy I need to release the pain which is blocking me. If I don’t do this I will not survive. If I don’t do this I’ll never be the singer I am capable of being if only I can love myself. If only I can fight off the voices of my parents and gather a sense of self-esteem. Then I’ll be able to REALLY sing. Which is what I want more than anything else in the world. Recovery has always been my only goal. I have used my voice in every way. It is my life. The only thing I put even before my son. I’ve run away from the pain of not having been held For all my life. Until now. And when the feelings of loss came up this time I decided not to run away but to go with them. Feel them and release them So as to be free of them. I had to be myself. I couldn’t deal with being “Sinead O’Connor” for the day. I have become very self-conscious and frightened as a result of being “famous” One doesn’t see one’s self reflected in the mirror. I lost my Self. I cannot sing until I’m ready to be myself. And here’s how you could help. Stop hurting me please. Saying mean things about me. I’ve been in public since I was only twenty. Still a very sad baby. But I could sing then because I wasn’t frightened. I know I’ve been angry but I’m full of love really do you think you could stop hurting me? It is suffocating me. Please? It’s an accident that I got “famous”. But I think it proves that there are a lot of people out there like me. It is their pain, which they hear and see also in me ?- being expressed which made them respond to that song or to my songs or my voice. I represent a group of people. Adult-Children we are called. Those of us who have lost our childhoods. We make up 96% of the human race believe it or not. We are in very great pain. Which if it is to be healed must be expressed Or we will continue to turn our grief inwards as we do until it becomes anger and we self-destruct. The ways in which we do that are also many and varied! What goes on in the sitting room goes on in the public arena. War in Tibet, war in Africa, war in Ireland, war in Bosnia. Do you know that the Serbian leader’s parents killed themselves when he was only a nipper. And he is “acting out” the rage and grief he has never dealt with. I swear to you that this is true. What have the other leaders been through? I’ve trying to give this information. Because I know it can help the whole human situation. I was angry before I was frightened. I know if you could really listen you’d see that we do not know what we are doing. When we mock the expression of human feeling. When we scoff at the sound of our children’s keening. There is a mirror into which we are not looking.

Social Media vs Self Care. Good match!

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Me too, I have been in and out Facebook, and MySpace, when it was the time for going social. People see you leaving and back, and again, they might be confused and wonder about our mental and social stability.

They are right. The point is, … who cares? Do you miss something? Photo albums from your friends holiday vacations,  do they really mind about yours? What are you eating, at the restaurant, when you finally quitted attending restaurants can be so frustrating, right?

Dating with someone pretty, because she is on the Facebook, posting sexy pictures, and she is adding you on her agenda. Wow.. tomorrow it will be another one, more interesting than you. Oh, really?

Are we serious? Is this the global era? Where socialising means anything but scary social autism?  Is that any common reasons for we are here on the WP reader to like and reblog about our own misery? lol

So, I wish you well, dear camerade, you know, a doctor once said to me “life is simple”. Something has broken, in the social media era, and we are leaving that world which doesn’t mirror our true Self, .. got it? Is there any balance between staying on the Facebook to keep connected to others and feeling isolated doing your life on your own?

Of course, when I see that girl filming her self while spending a lunch break with you it’s annoying, miserable, but except that you want eventually to kill her, what’s wrong with her? she wouldn’t be as much inspiring with or without her You Tube Channel on hair style, and that’s ok. Shallow people do exist and live their life showing off 3 quarters of their time. Noisy. Dull, lacking brightness. Apart from their sparkling silver open toes shoes.  That’s a fact.

Find your joy in your own pleasures, that’s a good idea, as far as keeping away from news for a positive mental health preservation.

Ho’oponopono thing says: “I’m sorry, please, forgive me, I love you”.

We shall do that every morning looking at our face in the mirror. It enhances inner peace ( self care ) and social media anxiety goes to the bin.

Hugs.

xx

 

 

I’ve been watching the social media frenzy die down for awhile now – the Facebook craze was at it’s peak a few years ago just like Myspace had it’s fun days when I was a teenager and now I’m not sure if that even really exists anymore. I kind of miss when Facebook just had […]

via Social Media – My Walking Problem Magnet — Mushrooms and Teacups

The PTSD Beautiful Trauma Project.

RAIN-Community-OrganizingThe PTSD Beautiful Trauma Project was born in France, in 2018, after 3 years from terrorist attacks to the “Charlie Hebdo Magazine” Board Office. Despite not being an activist, neither politically, nor labour councillor, I felt soon concerned and, in fact, I was. They say that, if you want to grow and evolve, in a lifetime, you get what you need, and not what you want. This was my case.

After multiple and unfortunate events, in Paris suburbs (2015), I woke up from burn out one mild day in mid-September, and I finally began my journey with struggling with PTSD as trauma survivor.

The social, both personal and professional, context I have been through this Parisian terror season, not only put me in a diseased mental health condition, but also forced me to a life-changing transformationUnderstanding, first, talking and taking actions, in the aftermath, were the only way to move forward.

Today, although, my work position is still in progress, as well as my emotional, physical and psychological statemy Body/Mind Health and Wellbeing are developing and improving one day at time. Panic attacks are over. Anger is a best friend of mine. Finally, I could find my purpose, and stick into my big dreams and life goals.

One side, the technique of Self-Discovery, thanks to the professional help of a kind lady, from the Occupational Psychologist Service, led me to a process of looking at my own identity, and therefore finding my True Self (Empathic and Highly Sensitive). On another side, my personal journey with PTSD recover was a chance to explore my potential, gifts and spiritual Path.

What could I ask more from a tragic event, and a chaos state of mind, other than survival? This project and my present life driving’s force speak out loud.

A couple of valuable aims will be sharing my personal tips about coping with PTSD, and ultimately, co-creating a community around Mental Health awareness, as well as Common Values.

Motto: What goes around comes around

We are all related.

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via The PTSD BT Project

What your Ithaca means?

As you set out for Ithaca
hope that your journey is a long one,
full of adventure, full of discovery.

Laistrygonians and Cyclops,
angry Poseidon – do not be afraid of them:
you’ll never find things like that on your way
as long as you keep your thoughts raised high,
as long as a rare sensation
touches your spirit and your body.

Laistrygonians and Cyclops,
wild Poseidon – you won’t encounter them
unless you bring them along inside your soul,
unless your soul sets them up in front of you.

Hope that your journey is a long one.
May there be many summer mornings when,
with what pleasure, what joy,
you come into harbors seen for the first time;
may you stop at Phoenician trading stations
to buy fine things,
mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
sensual perfume of every kind –
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
and may you visit many Egyptian cities
to learn and learn again from those who know.

Keep Ithaca always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you’re destined for.
But do not hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so that you’re old by the time you reach the island,
wealthy with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaca to make you rich.

Ithaca gave you the marvelous journey.
Without her you would not have set out.
She has nothing left to give you now.

And if you find her poor, Ithaca won’t have fooled you.
Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,
you will have understood by then what these Ithacas mean.

Charlie, who?

IamNotCharlieFirst Paris attack came in january 2015. The whole week, unhappily, I’ve been watching videos on the web. Every day we got striking news about actions of terrorists around the parisian area. They said that they were stealing cars and hiding in the woods, so I was in alert. Police forces were hunting them, streets to airports were blocked, everybody was on his nerves. Since our company is american, it was on the target of terrorism, after 2001, and still is, so we felt like something could strike soon or later.

And as low of attraction demonstrates, when you FEEL something, it happens … this point is worth to be stressed enough, concentrate on positive, means sending good vibes into the universe ….and cosmo will send you back ! Viceversa, live in fears, and your vibes won’t have the same effect. You see what I mean? This time I was quite nervous because these two men were around, and there had been already a shooting in Paris, a police woman was killed the day before, following a car accident where one of the terrorists (the one from casher supermarket) was involved. He was wearing bulletproof vest and had a kalashnikov rifle. Another policeman was shot in Paris, a few days before, he was lying down the ground begging the killer to spare his life. He had no pity. And shot his head blood cold to finish with him. On You Tube you could find this video supporting the theory that, the fact I just told you, was a fake. It was meant to put people in chaos. And nobody knew exactly what was really trustworthy. Except people who knew that man, like a guy I was dating on line, yes, his father was a jobmate of that poor guy.

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That week “Je suis Charlie” went on a massive world movement, and suddenly turned all pictures on Facebook, into french colors. Mine, too. But I was angry, angry with Italians who hadn’t any idea of what was going on here, and with my peers, nobody showed up to say « hello ». Only a few posting on Facebook to show off at which point « everybody was french ». But no calls on my phone.

Until saturday morning, 10th of january. The day I had a date with Death for a chess game. Things hurried up at about 10h30 am, when the hall was full of kids with their families. First, I saw a security man walking speed in front of the reception, and directed to the floors. Second, two others, right after. Our screens on pc were on news all the time. The two killers, at the printing house, were shot the evening before, in Dammarie-les-Lys. Two persons held hostage were still alive. The man in the casher supermarket, who killed other persons, caught and dead, too, by the GIGN commando. What else could happen ?

Suddenly, someone shouted at the bottom of the hall, « SORTEZ ! ». « Go out ! » Damn, I swear, in first seconds I had no time to realize what was going to happen, I was just scared to death, and only knew that I had to go out from there. No matter what. My Brazzaville’s jobmate said something, and I replied « « Dear, pray, that we can tell this story, some day». We were all expecting something terrible to happen. Our energy vibration was tuned on those videos on You Tube, so in a certain way, we were waiting on a bomb strike or kalashnikov rifles fire.

Two seconds, and your life suddenly stops. Someone pushed « stand by » button. One, you hear « sortez », two, what the f*** …and in between, it stands your life until today. « What did you do until now ? » « How did you spend your life ? » »Did you explore your potential ? » »Did you do what really counted for you ? » »Did you try harder ? »

Questioning your life in two seconds, and third, last question, …where’s EXIT ?

Before I had time for longer self reflection, I hold the first little girl’s hand, and slowly, hurry up to the door and to the parking area. The man who was entering was a policeman, and I won’t ever forget that eyes look. Thank you french cops. Never enough. As soon as I stepped out of the building, my full body nerves coulndn’t stop shimmering, and seeked for other colleagues. Crowd was in panic, one close jobmate was crying, evenutally calling her sons, while I realized my phone was left inside, and I couldn’t reach my mother…. That was better, I supposed, cos what would I tell her ? « I love you Mum » like in 9/11 ? That was the feeling.

As team, we were used to test evacuations on a regular basis, more for fire prevention. But this one was supposed to be not a fake, and it was the worst and worse organised I ever experienced. Not only we weren’t informed on what was happening, but we were held in the parking area, at zero degrees, me in short sleeves, without the possibility to leave. The gate were kept closed. I mean, … Thousands of people in a parking as hostage ? Yes, police call it « freezing ». They keep control on the situation by avoiding people to go away, just in case, there is anybody involved in terrorism. Someone was jumping the gate, but eventually also the closer train station was blocked. So, I spent one hour and a half with this couple of spanish army, with their two little girls, and I admit, we were quite sure that something important was going on. A german jobmate, tried to calm down guests, and dancing salsa in the handicap parking space. No much results. So, it came naturally to me to leave my team apart, and stay with the little girls. The younger showed me pictures of her cartoons heros. We tchit tchat for a while until we were told to move. We did. And after this endless snake line we could go back to our work. Danger was over. Was it ?

So, we all were asked to go back to our job locations. That is very bad for provoking anxious state, and strange enough, we didn’t get any psychological support. First, after I entered the building, I went to toilet, of course, and stood a little, thinking to what I just experienced. Was it real ?

Nop, it was a fake. 

Yes, a fake alert. What the f*** ! That meant that I won my match against Death, yes, I was given some more time, and from now on…. from now on, what? 

In respect of the victims, and highly sensitive people, just like me, I won’t put any videos on Paris Attacks. Anyway, I might suggest you this one: “Three days of terror” on You Tube.