How To Get Past The Sh*t That’s Holding You Back

 

Do you ever struggle with debilitating fears, paralyzing self-doubt, crippling depression, sabotaging procrastination, or terrifying anxiety attacks?

As a creative solopreneur I’d wager my treasure chest of gold (ok, more like a small savings account) that you’re raising your hand right now. If you’re not, I’m calling bullshit!

You’re probably sitting there right now struggling with something in silence. Afraid to acknowledge it, too frightened of being judged to tell anyone, feeling completely alone and like no one would understand.

I promise you’re not alone!

If only I could wiretap the crazy bitch in my head for you. Believe me. You’re not alone.

Most peeps don’t get what it is to be an entrepreneur. They don’t understand how incredibly intertwined your life is with your business. How hard it is to deal with all the personal struggles and how lonely it can feel when those struggles creep in. They don’t understand the true plight of a successful solopreneur!

A couple weeks ago, in The Solopreneur Society support lounge, an innocent thread I started about the mental shit that’s often behind the stalls in our success turned into a soul-baring diary of inspiration.

Many of us shared some very raw experiences we’ve had and confessed to some very personal struggles.

So it got me thinking.

 

If our small Society full of solopreneurs is struggling with this I bet a whole hell of a lot of others out there are feeling alone and afraid in silence too. And frankly, that’s too fucking tragic for me to sit back and allow. I want to bridge the gap between the suffering silence we all experience and the safe place we need during those times!

Today the members from that thread have agreed to bravely share their stories with you.

Our goal is to inspire and encourage open discussions about the less than glowing aspects of being an imperfect human who craves self-made success. Those things we’ve been taught to hide and bury in shame so the cracks in our foundation aren’t noticeable. We want to help and learn from each other’s experiences and create a safe place to share and support each other!

Here are our stories…

 

Andrea ‘Dre’ Beltrami

Will The Real Hater Please Stand Up

I’ve always been a fiercely internal person that struggles in silence. Combine my need for control with my disdain for feelings AND my propensity to over think everything and it’s no wonder I’ve struggled with so much mental strife.

Since as far back as I can remember I’ve battled depression, anxiety, and self-hate. My coping mechanisms have morphed and evolved over time (I’m a self-proclaimed functional nut case) but each one has been drenched in this sick need to hide and avoid acknowledging my insecurities and inner turmoil…to myself and to others.

Hating yourself is an inescapable burden that I wouldn’t wish on anyone. It’s like having your mortal enemy permanently handcuffed to you. The truth is, NO ONE can hate me more than I’ve hated myself or say anything meaner than I’ve said to myself. My problems have always been self-induced. What I would have done for the convenience of blaming someone else for how I was feeling!

Perfectionism, anger, substance abuse, and on the list goes, all helped me bury these dirty little secrets for a long time but eventually, it all caught up with me.

It wasn’t one defining moment or anything of the poignant nature, it was simply an accumulation and inability to carry the growing burden. You stack enough shit up and eventually it’s going to come crumbling down. Over time minor bouts of depression turned into severe long-lasting bouts, terrifying panic attacks became commonplace, and eventually I was hospitalized for a suicide attempt. Ashamed and miserable I stressed myself down to 102lbs {I’m 5’9} and became completely emotionally detached from the world.

It’s taken years of therapy, a cocktail of medication, and a hell of a lot of painful soul-searching and self-awareness, but I’m firmly out of the valley of darkness. I’d love to tell you that these days rainbows and butterflies pour out of my ass and my struggles are behind me but that’d be something entirely different coming out of my ass!

 

At times I still….

• Avoid things that I’m afraid I will fail at (anyone seen my web show? Oh, that’s right I’ve been too chicken shit to launch it)
• Tell myself I’m not good enough or smart enough or pretty enough
• Bask in a bitch persona to protect myself from getting hurt
• Hate myself when I do any of the above

The difference is, these days I’ve made it my priority to own that shit! The good, the bad, and the ugly. It’s not about ridding myself of these struggles, I’ve already proven that’s impossible, it’s about not letting them define me, hold me back, or dictate what’s possible. It’s about not taking a molehill and making a mountain out of it.

If I procrastinate in the name of avoidance instead of thinking about how much I want to punish myself for being a pussy I admit I’m afraid, not just to myself but I admit it to others as well. I redirect my energy from hiding it to owning it and letting myself feel it.

When it comes to fear of failure instead of running into the sweet embrace of something safe I try and rationalize the fear and remind myself that even the worst-case outcome is not worth hating myself over.

Some fears take longer than others (cough…web show), and I’d venture to guess that time frame is closely related to how much I think the ‘failure’ will set me back. Many times I turn to other fears for conquering and build up to the ultimate fear of the moment.

There’s no doubt I’m still cautious (understatement of the year) to rock the boat! I KNOW the deep pits of despair that I’m capable of plummeting to and going back to them terrifies me to my core, which is EXACTLY what drives my mission of self-acceptance.

 

The things that help me most these days are…

• Deep breathing and meditation
• Confessing my struggles to others
• Unburdening myself to a therapist
• Grabbing cocktails with a bestie OR binge-watching Netflix with a bottle of vino in total solitude
• Picking my battles, some shit can just wait to be tackled

I’m scared shitless that something is going to send me into a tailspin and undo all the work I’ve done to get to a place where I finally love myself, but anything worth a damn takes work. I now know myself, I know I’m worth it and those two knowledge bombs keep me working through the struggles.

I’m committed to my success in all its forms. For better or worse I am who I am and most days…I’ll be the first to tell you, I’m a brave AF broad, struggles and all!

 

Krista Leimann

Exorcising Your Demons is a Lifelong Struggle

Everyone has their demons. It can take a lifetime to properly get rid of them, and they rear their ugly heads at the most inconvenient times. My demon(s) are named depression and childhood emotional abuse. They’re a real fun combination – one feeds off the aftermath of the other.

Imagine growing up being told how bad/worthless/useless/horrible (pick your adjective of choice) you were by the one person whose approval you wanted more than anything. That’s the root of a terrible self-esteem right there. And, wow, did it bear fruit. If you look at child development, self-esteem and what a child thinks of him/herself begins in the family… so imagine what happens when a family member starts openly disparaging you. It becomes “okay” for your siblings to do the same.

My parents, who could have either stopped the abuse or at least done something to counteract it, didn’t have the knowledge to help or protect me. So I grew up believing that I was worthless, discounting all the positive attributes I knew to be true. I was smart and got good grades – so what, your sister does that and better. I could sing well – so what, you don’t play an instrument like your sisters, and you’re not good enough to be a primary soloist. I was the child that could do no right and was resented simply for existing.

And I believed every. last. word. So when depression reared its ugly head from time to time as life went on, it found fertile ground. That particular demon did not have to work very hard to tear apart what self-esteem I had built up, and have me feeling worthless and useless again. The depression came and went throughout most of my adult life, but most of it was mild and would go away on its own.

Until I turned 40…and then it hit with a wallop. Without realizing something was wrong, I was trying to figure out a way to commit suicide in a way that my husband would still be able to claim my life insurance. The realization that crying at work every day wasn’t normal is what finally made me get help… (and you can see the non-existent self-esteem there, too. Suicidal ideation? Normal, just fine, I never acted on it. Daily crying at my desk for months on end? Oh, something’s not right here.)

So, what has helped me…

 

…as a young adult:

Leaving home. Going away to college as a freshman was the first step, moving to another city over 1,000 miles away for graduate school was the big step.

Making friends who saw what a mess I was, loved me anyway, built me up, and taught me how to love myself.

Becoming comfortable in my own skin, knowing that the path I chose for myself was the right one, and a valuable one, even if others in my family didn’t understand it or me.

 

…as a grown woman:

Medication. Wellbutrin is my friend.

Cognitive Behavioral Therapy. This has taught me to recognize when cognitive distortions in my thinking are to blame, and how to reframe those thoughts into something more productive.

My treasured friends – either a girls night out or a long chat on the phone. Those become rare and precious when you need to balance your needs with your family’s needs – and your spouse/children’s needs usually come first.

Exercise. It has helped me tremendously to go for a walk to clear my head. Bonus, it’s naturally good for combatting depression.

My faith. Whether it is a podcast of the rosary, going to Mass, sitting in a quiet church to pray or going to confession, I lean hard on my faith to get me through. Sometimes it’s really hard to pray, so I hope God understands when all I can do is cry and beg Him for help. But hey, if you can’t cry in church, where can you safely cry?

The family I created. Sometimes, just a hug from one or all of them is enough.

I’ve grown enough now to realize that I just have to keep pulling myself back up as life knocks me down. It’s not what happens to me that matters, but how I respond to it. If I can teach my daughters this lesson, it will be one of my prouder achievements.

 

Diane Wade

Dear Diary (or the world),

I have a chronic condition. A condition that requires intensive treatment.

I appear to have it together.

Most of the time, my insides are in contradiction to what appears on the outside. I’m not talking make-up and accessories. I’m talking core beliefs. I am a glass half-full optimist for everyone around me. It is in my nature to see the bright side, to look for a solution as soon as I’ve heard the problem. However, when faced with my own problems, challenges and goals, I talk to myself in the most negative, cruel and self-defeating way. Like a total jerk.

This pattern has run in my head for decades now, which means it’s strong enough to run without permission. I am the ONLY one who has ever talked to me in this way, but the things we believe about ourselves can be powerful beyond measure.

This obviously affects my self-esteem and personal relationships.

Here’s how this negative soundtrack affects my desires to make, create and dare:

• extinguishes my ability to run with new or different ideas
• belittles and second-guesses my dreams as soon as they arise
• when I manage to get out of my comfort zone, it plays the ‘ole “nobody wants to read/buy/do/hear this.”
• encourages self-sabotage of my own plans
• whispers that I should quit at the first sign of struggle, because it was a dumb idea in the first place. See bullet point one.

Sometimes, all of this occurs in an instant or before I’ve taken a step out of bed.

This condition requires intentional, daily effort to keep the negative self-talk in check.

 

Here is my recommended daily allowance of awesome:

Guided meditations by Bella Ruth Naparstek

Nurturing relationships (in real life and online) where I authentically connect and belong, rather than with the people I wish liked me.

The right combination of medication (which can take time to achieve)

Deep and soulful laughter

Recently, I moved to the other side of forty and it has gifted me with an intense new feeling of, “who cares.” This nudge me outside of comfort zone more frequently. It also gives me courage to make use of these five tools that I know help (give or take a million others: music, Pema Chodron, baking, my family).

I am learning to grieve for and to love the young self that I was so hard on. And since I know what forty years of fear looks and feels like, I am motivated to make a new life for myself, inside and out.

 

Samantha Milward

The Girl Who Got Hooked in the Eye

Irony is a bitch. She always seems to come along at the worst possible moments, knocking on your door ready to piss you off. At least in my case she was probably attempting to tear down my door. She knew just how to piss me off and she did it really well.

July 23rd, 2013, I was out photographing a friend fly-fishing just like I usually did. We lived in Montana after all and the rivers are always packed with fishermen. I grew up fishing and being outdoors my whole life, so this was nothing new to me. Now you’re probably wondering where I’m going with this, and ill just jump right into it. I took a break from photographing and said “Hey stop casting for a minute so I can walk to that tree, I don’t want to get hooked in the eye!” That was the last thing I said before Irony was busting down my door to let me know “Hey I’m here!” I literally grabbed the fishing line just in time before the fishhook was ripped out of my eye.

I was a month out from the start of my senior year of college; I had been working on developing my undergrad thesis proposal when everything came to a halt. As I laid in the ER for 8 hours wondering if I was going to loose my eyesight or even get to keep my eye, I tried to tell myself over and over again that you don’t need two eyes, I could do this with just one eye if that’s how its going to be. All I could do was pray that whatever happens, I will be strong enough to handle whatever it is.

For 4 months I walked around with stitches in my right eye. I could somewhat see, but not much. I had to keep my eye dilated for 4 months and I wore sunglasses 24/7. I was told getting through the semester would be extremely hard and advised that maybe I should take a semester off. I couldn’t do that, I wasn’t going to give myself the chance to sit in pity that I couldn’t really see and despite my degree being in photography, I would use this to my advantage and create my thesis to be about how my vision drastically changed.

The healing process wasn’t easy. In fact it was extremely hard. I never realized how important my eyesight was until it was compromised. Most days I couldn’t keep my eyes open more than a few hours, and even the sunglasses didn’t help much with the brightness

When it came to my senior thesis project, I struggled. I was trying to show how my eyesight changed by manipulating photos to show the difference. I literally used to see multiples of everything, spots, different colors, flashes of light and more. It took me hours to edit and most of the time my screen was so bright I wouldn’t be able to work.

I remember people asking me all the time why I had two different colored eyes, why I wore sunglasses all the time even inside, or if I was just always hung over. I was constantly being stared at and that hurt. I tried to pretend everything was normal because it hurt to look in the mirror. Most days I was pretty confident but a lot of times I wasn’t. I hit a low point where I figured I might as well quit, and give up because the pain was too much and I didn’t think I could handle it.

 

What helped me get through this hard time:

• I kept reminding myself: “My eye is healing, this isn’t going to be permanent.”
• Sunglasses, sometimes two pairs at once
• Support from family, friends, and my doctor
• Daily progress photos of my eye (that way I could reassure myself when I felt like I wasn’t getting better)
• Seeing the success from my undergrad thesis

I slowly started to heal and learned how to cope with my injury. At my monthly eye appointments hearing my eyesight was improving gave me the confidence I needed to help get through the bad days.

I graduated college with honors. I learned how to overcome something that was meant to tear me apart and used it instead to fuel my drive. I realized how badly I wanted to be a photographer and I wouldn’t let anything get in my way. Now I am a owner of a photography business and kicking ass! My eyesight in my right eye is doing pretty good too! Life is one hell of a ride and when I finally realized that there is nothing I can do to change the past but just to embrace the future, I knew everything is going to be ok.

 

Cara Chace

I Don’t Know if I’m Going to Make It

For as long as I can remember, I heard from my dad that the key to success was working for yourself. Sounds reasonable and inspiring right? What’s missing from that simple sentence is that everything my dad tried to teach and instill in us was overshadowed by his fear, his insecurities, his extreme narcissism, and what I’m positive are bi-polar issues.

He belittled pretty much everyone around him, especially middle-management career types. If you weren’t interested in math and science you were stupid. If you worked for someone else you were lazy and complacent.

We lived in a well-to-do part of town in San Diego and grew up in what most would view as a mansion. I was made aware very early on that HE was rich, HE was well off, HE was the most accomplished, smartest, richest person we would ever know – and WE would never, ever have that.

He burdened his children with an extreme fear of failure, diminished self-worth, and self-criticism. I realize now that it was because of his own mental health (or lack thereof).

 

The level he went to control us and make us dependent manifested in the following examples:

He would keep little to no food in the house, forcing me to use a meager allowance to buy unhealthy and cheap snacks for lunch. This kicked off an awful weight and self-image issue that I am still struggling with on a daily basis.

When I was grounded (for not getting a 3.8 GPA) the only relief I got was to be escorted to and from the public library to check out books. This would happen for months (like 6) on end. No phone, computer, tv, friends, nothing.

When I got my first job at 15 years old (a way to get out of the house and have a little extra money), he required that I sign all my paychecks over to him and he would allot me what he thought was appropriate.

When I expressed my love of writing and how I thought I might want to either be a writer or teacher, he scoffed and told me I’d always be poor and that was pathetic.

When I would call him out on his bullshit, I was usually beaten. Yep…that was a hard one for me to even write.

 

Needless to say, the recurring theme was I would never be anything, do anything, or be worth anything without his help or say so.

I left at 17 and never looked back. I put myself through a private university and graduated with honors. I got a career that was interesting, powerful, and paid me 6-figures by the time I was 26. The propelling force was, “No, no…fuck YOU.”

Fast-forward a decade or so, and I’ve left my career because, quite frankly it sucked ass. The controlling nature of working for the government was ironic and unacceptable. I successfully transitioned careers to the social media industry and very recently realized that only thing that felt right to me was to go into business for myself.

Queue the self-doubt and that critical asshole in my head.

At times I feel like I can conquer the world, everything is fine, I can totally do this. Then something happens. Maybe it’s that I’m not getting through my to-do list. Maybe it’s that I don’t get a contract I was hoping for. And the tailspin commences. I go back and forth between total anxiety and total apathy. All the while, I hear that voice that says, “Who do you think you are that you could pull this off? You will NEVER make it. You will NEVER be rich. No one actually likes you.”

My logical mind knows where this is coming from. I know it’s an entire childhood of flagrant insecurities and narcissism being taken out on me. I KNOW that. My emotional mind turns into that little girl that just wants some support and love. I’ve learned that only when my emotional mind is calm can my logical, problem-solver extraordinaire take over and work it out.

 

Here are the tools I use as needed to reel it all in and calm my shiznit down.

• Meditation. Usually in the evening after my 2 year old goes to bed.
• Walking rescue dogs.
• Exercise and helping those that can’t help themselves in one – boom.
• Getting outside, preferably with no one around.
• Sticking my feet in the ocean. I’m lucky enough to be driving distance to the Pacific and the overwhelming sense of the universe soothes me without fail.
• Happy hour and coffee with friends.
• Discovering someplace new. This sense of adventure and discovery directly parlays into a can-do attitude and usually provides some inspiration.

 

Dan Crask

How I Deal With “General Anxiety Disorder”

I am a 38 year old husband, father, and branding professional. Three years ago, out of nowhere, I had my first anxiety attack. It was life-changing.

Between then and now I have had four “big ones,” and too many small ones to count, not to mention the seasons of sustained anxiety – stretches of time that seem dominated by a cloud hanging over me. Last year I was diagnosed with “General Anxiety Disorder.”

Each major attack felt different. That’s the power that anxiety wields: It powers a mind-body chaos that can take on many different forms. But there are some common attributes.

 

When I’m in an anxiety-ridden mind, I feel:

• like I am going to die immediately or in the near future,
• irrational; for instance: if I am driving, I can’t make rational decisions for something simple like the shortest route home,
• and preoccupied with myself, my health, the thing that is causing me to be anxious.

 

It is odd to write this, let alone believe it, but I have a lot of respect for the power of anxiety.

The more you fight it, the more it becomes a preoccupation, resulting in a full-blown anxiety attack.

While I do consider myself a work in-progress, I have 4 things I do to help me get through it:

I pray. I am a Christian, and I take the words of Jesus to not let my heart/gut/mind be troubled, but to trust God and trust Him seriously. It is very hard to do.

Anxiety is a form of fear, so I pray and confess my fears, asking for forgiveness of the fear (which is a form of lacking faith), and for more faith to battle the fear.

This is not a genie-in-a-bottle solution, nor is it instant. What I have learned from reading the Bible and from life is that God is not hesitant to make His kids suffer for a greater purpose.

I tattle on myself. When I tell my wife I am really battling anxiety I am making myself vulnerable. She’s been through all of these ambulance rides, hospital ER visits, doctor visits, medications, x-rays, scans, etc. all to learn it’s anxiety. So she may have a right to feel a big dose of “not again,” yet when I tattle on myself, and she receives it understandingly, with great love in her response, it lightens the load. I can even get relief from small anxiety issues just from talking it out with her.

I do the next thing. I’ve used a word a lot in this post: Preoccupied. That’s because one of anxiety’s biggest disrupting attributes is its power to hijack one’s daily, ordinary life. So one thing I force myself to do is simply make a list, and do the next thing. My anxious inner-Dan is still there, still needs to be dealt with, but I cannot allow anxiety to take over my daily life. Doing the next thing keeps my mind on what needs to get done.

Talk to a pro. I realize I’m Capt. Obvious here, but talking to a trained, licensed psychologist or therapist is crucial for me. I take it a step further, and only meet with therapists who are fellow Christians because their worldview directly influences their feedback to what I share. It is worth the expense and inconvenience to talk to a professional who knows how work with anxiety-prone people.

I am reminded of a book I read back then by Rory Noland called “The Heart of the Artist.” In it, Rory sets the tone for the book by pointing out that creative people are hardwired to be hyper-sensitive; that this hyper-sensitivity is the very thing that makes us creative. It can be a double-edged sword because it can also make us hyper-sensitive to the stuff that may weigh us down. For me, and many of my fellow creatives, this hyper-sensitivity works against us when it comes to anxiety. We feel it vividly.

When Andrea asked if those of us who deal with anxiety might share our experiences, and what we find helpful to deal with it, I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to share what is helping me. I hope all of us who deal with anxiety can find peace.

 

Giada Centofanti

There are some things you can do nothing about. All the other things are up to you.

I was used to earthquakes. They’ve been part of my life since I was 4, as I live in a seismically active area. I got to know little quakes and wasn’t too afraid of them. The earth was stretching a bit, no big deal. That night was different though. On April 6, 2009, at 3.32 AM the earth trembled. It was a 6.3-magnitude earthquake. Buildings collapsed; people died and got injured.

I was freaking scared, but I was safe. My dog was safe. My family was safe. In the next hours, we would have known the names of the casualties. L’Aquila – my town – has a small population of about 70,000, so almost everyone knows everyone here. You can only imagine how it felt to hear that more than 300 of us died. It was tough to go on and survive. It was tough to realize that our town as we knew it was gone, as well as our lives.

L’Aquila has a huge historical center and is surrounded by several small suburbs with their own historical centers. It will take ages to restore and rebuild them. My house is still unfit for use, and I don’t know when it will be fixed. I paid the first installment of my 20-year mortgage on January 2008; I’m paying the installments every month, for a house where I can’t live. I think you can understand how frustrated and full of anger I am.

I had another gift from that event: anxiety disorder. Now, I know I already was a bit of a nut and control freak but hadn’t reached pathological levels yet. Anxiety fucked me up with its subtle techniques. Sometimes it painfully squeezed my insides for hours, sometimes destabilized me with vertigo, other times scared me to death with panic attacks.

I went to therapy – it was a combination of individual and group cognitive-behavioural therapy and drug therapy – and recovered. Whenever I’m under pressure or stress, the anxiety empire strikes back, but I know how to fight it now. I’m able to handle panic attacks too, even though they’re still frightening.

 

Along with therapy, this is what helps me feeling better:

• Breathing exercises – they’re a life saver to prevent panic attacks
• Changing my focus – from what I can’t control to what I can control, from myself to others (when I can help someone else I feel better);
• Letting go – it’s hard for an overthinker, but sometimes a “Who cares?!” can make you feel so good!

 

At this point in my life, I’m proud of myself for getting over it and above all for allowing myself to be helped. I’m aware I’ve still got a lot of work to do – that anger and that frustration are still there – but now I know I can make it.

• I’m proud of myself because I went out my comfort zone.
• I’m working hard to build the career I want and feel I’m making it.
• I wrote this “journal entry” while I thought I would have never been able to write about what that earthquake meant for me.

This is a starting point. This is my here and now, where I build my success and happiness one brick at a time.

 

Nicole Levac

The journey of stretching and growing

My life has been a struggle of allowing and peeling away at parts of myself so I could push past my own fears, my shame, self hate and self judgement. Nobody could destroy me as well as I could.
I have spent a lifetime feeling different, as if I bothered or was a burden to people. I never felt like I fit in anywhere.

This brought me on a journey of self destruction. I tried to drown out this internal pain and mess, through booze and drugs. All this was taking place in my personal life.

In the public eye, my professional life looked like I had it all together. I was part of great teams and projects. On the outside everything ‘looked good’ but inside, I was a total mess.

The irony of my story comes from the fact that I loved to get involved and voice my opinion. I often ended up leading the team, the event or the cause. I could take the negative, the backlash, the blame, all the negative stuff but anything that would look like praise or recognition for a job well done, I hated. Yup. Strange.

Call it perfectionism, self hate, self destruction, fear, shame, anger, self judgement, they all showed their ugly head during my life. How I dealt with them is by retreating or hiding. So, every time that I got involved with these amazing projects and teams, just when they were ready to receive recognition or praise, I would find a way to pull out, never sticking around to receive the positive feedback. I hated any recognition.

So strange for somebody that is 5’11’’, loves to get involved and with a big mouth. So, since I have always been on a quest of personal growth, when my daughters were born, my life took a different turn. I needed to understand who I was and I started digging into my patterns and wanting to know myself so that I could be a better role model for my 2 daughters.

From my pain, my studies and my drive to always push myself to grow, I developed a system that has helped me to transform my life. From a shame ridden, terrified of everything woman, to a go getter and dare I say it, self confident woman.

 

What I have done to help me work through this:

• I write down my fears, frustrations, shame, anger, destructive thoughts. I use this exercise to empty those thoughts from my body. I call it ‘taking out the trash’. Once it’s written, I NEVER re-read it. I tear it up and burn it or throw it out, like I would throw out my house trash. It’s finished. I don’t go through my trash at home, so why would I go through my emotional trash. ( I know there will always be more, exactly like there is always more in our kitchen)

 

• I ask myself this one question: If I wasn’t ‘afraid, scared, ashamed, (put the word that is appropriate), what would I do? From this one question, I sit down and write my honest answer. This allows me to see and hear my own thoughts. To recognize and free myself from my own personal prison.

 

• Walking in nature and when I’m angry, frustrated or dealing with a lot of emotions, I’ll grab a stone and throw it while visualizing my emotions leaving with that stone.

 

• I say ‘Thank you’ for praise or compliments and I stop there. No conditions or justification. I allow myself to receive fully what is being offered.

 

• On those days where I know I could easily self destruct, I remind myself to set ONE new goal, however small. I make sure to celebrate this step.

 

• I rinse and repeat these steps daily.

 

The recluse with the self hate and self destruction is part of who I am. I discovered how to navigate my life by accepting that part of myself rather than denying it. Now when I stretch myself and push out of my comfort zone, I let that side of me throw the hissy fit, recognize it, comfort it and then move on.

It doesn’t rule my life anymore. It’s a constant battle that I have chosen to embrace and face in my life since this is who I am. And I decided that I love being me, so I might as well take it with all that I am.

And guess what, with age, I have found that I’m winning the battle. ?

 

Margherita Crystal Lotus

Have you ever lived on white Cabbage for a whole winter in the Arctic?

Yes, I did that, thanks to my baby sister in Sweden. She said to me: You need vitamin C, so I went out to buy the darn cabbage when the snow conditions were suitable for driving. I kind of like the cabbage, much better than chocolate and chips, which is highly addictive.

Why, did this happen?

There was no other food with vitamin C, that lasts in the fridge for months, and costs a fraction of a slice of cheese. And, at the time the cash flow was non-existent. I had previously received a “gift” of huge expenses as a result of a relationship involvement that left me with massive debts.

My ‘Arctic’ is Kingston, Canada, where we have had long icy winters for several years now. But, I am Swedish so I thought I could handle the Ice storms roaring through my house. But, I was dead wrong!.

How would you deal with Cabbage and have no money to get a man to plow away 20” of snow from the 400 m long driveway? I tried to use my shovel, but after 2. 5 days I gave up because there was simply too much snow. There is no lack of trying all kinds of strategies. But everyone has their limits. What I didn’t consider was asking for help! I was a real Badass in that particular department!

During this challenging time I was like a robot willing my energy to create new things and ideas, and never giving up…

One day I actually collapsed, lost my wits and my memory. And found myself sitting in my home, not knowing what day it was, and who I was. I had worked so hard on my business, and coming up with new strategies to sell my healing crystals. I had engaged a small number of clients to participate. I was up day and night to do the web pages, paypal links and taking pictures etc. My mind simply checked out that day.

Lo and behold… my sister called me on Skype from Sweden that particular day right at the time when this happened. She had never called me before that day like that. She felt I was in trouble, and helped me to bring me back to reality again. I love her!

 

How did I come though this eye of the needle and survive?

• I discovered my fear of: failure and asking for help!
• I believed that anything is possible
• I was supported by my spiritual practice
• A handful of friends and family helped me
• I came through it by becoming more vulnerable

Since that time the Hot Crystal Sale (sign-up link to my Hot Crystal Sale list http://eepurl.com/PBEhP) has been successful every time I launched it (about every 4 months). And my handful of clients blew me away with their purchases. If I had not got this close with myself, I probably never would have found this particular solution.

 

So, what is the wisdom of “Cabbage in the Arctic”?

When you know what your “Cabbage in the Arctic” is, it becomes easier to deal with. You have a name for it. You have identified the “evil entity” you are dealing with. In my case it was: the fear of failure and asking for help. This ‘evil entity” did not reveal itself fully until I endured my “Cabbage in the Arctic.”

I wish you will not wait too long before asking for help, you need!

 

WRAP UP

It never fails to amaze me how just one person’s vulnerability can provide the safety someone else needs to confess their own struggles and free them from their own silent suffering. I hope this post has done that for you.

I commend each one you for pulling back the curtain and sharing your raw and shamelessly honest truths. If that’s not keepin’ it real I don’t know what is!

Let our diary entries be a reminder that you’re not alone! That there are people who have and are struggling with the same messy, maddening shit you are. That there’s a safe place and a posse of non-judgmental solopreneurs who would love to drench you in support and inspire you out of your funks.

If you want to join our ragtag crew of solopreneurs and get the support you need from the people that know what you’re going through we’d love to have you!

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