Emotional Blackmail, via email or a Lesson to be Learned.

It’s strange how one quick scan through looking at your email can give you the familiar guilty feelings and bring all your worries to the fore.  These are mailing lists which you sign up for, when you are feeling that you need a bit of help, some guidance in your life, or are curious as to whether you are doing any of it right.  Never underestimate the effect that this can have on someone who is depressed.  I have found that reading emails and seeking out self-help guides is a way to reassure yourself, that others are going through it to, there must be help out there, someone may have the answer as to how to fix that and sometimes they will even share it.  (Darn that practical thinking once again!) A quick scroll through however, will sadly reaffirm all your worst fears, that you aren’t doing enough, or doing it right, your body is not slim enough, your mind is not tuned in to what it should be, your business is not working the way it should be, you can re-set your thinking and your whole world will just drop into place again. There are “coaches” who will be behind you every step of the way.

IF ONLY!    Of course if you would just send them some more of your hard earned, or non existent cash.  They would be able to help you achieve more, worry less, be slim, be strong, help others or the very next best thing would be on it’s way to you by some secret or celestial force.

It is very difficult when you are going through a dark place, not to pick up things along the way, which sit in the back of your mind and eat away at your sub-conscious.   Some months ago, I was desperate for help to ease my worried mind.  I wanted so badly for things in my life to change for the better, that for a moment I believed the hype….  That some complete stranger could show me the way out of this mess I was in.  That’s the trouble when your mental health takes a swan dive. Don’t get me wrong, there are some Life Coaches who hit the nail on the head and whom you actually feel can help and there are people who do.  It isn’t all doom and gloom.

At the time though, I received an email, telling me that I had a Guardian Angel, who was watching over me and who could guide me, they might even be able to tell me where I had been going wrong all this time, or how to avoid any future pitfalls.  For a small fee, they would offer help,  a reading or perform some mystical thing which would set me back on track on the original path from which I had clearly deviated.

At the time, I had funds.  So,  what had I got to lose?  I thought, I paid a small fee, for him to work his magic, (Yes I do believe in Magic but that is a subject for another day) he sent me something to download and follow which would bring me celestial assistance. (Or Not)  Someone I could call upon in times of difficulty who would be there.  (Isn’t that what my partner is for?)  Little did I know that I would be bombarded for months with emails which would send me on a huge guilt trip.   It promised that I would come into some money, which when you are broke is always a bit of a carrot to entice you. Furthermore that on a certain date, games of luck would go my way.  It is very easy to hope that someone is right when you are feeling low, it would have been so easy to spend a fortune on Lottery Tickets and this person’s “Help” and where would it have got me? On a couple of occasions I gambled.  Those “special dates in my charts, the stars etc ” came and went and needless to say, there was no change in my finances.  My natural cynicism must have overtaken the good stuff and Lo another date was mentioned.

As a pretty sensitive person, on the other occasions where I did not even have enough money to buy food or pay the bills, I received the emails which told me off for not having parted with yet more funds told me that time was running out, it would all go wrong for me if I did not take this offer up. I felt the guilt, thought about if I could scrape together just a bit more money, it might make the difference…  Of course I didn’t and it didn’t, then having been berated, a few days later despite me not taking the offer up, I would receive another one, with a different name of something that I would surely need in my life and a new date.

Instead having been on the hook for a very short time, so I thought, When things just got steadily worse and worse, I faced facts.  I had given it a go, but accepted that it wasn’t to be. Perhaps this person’s insight had been off-kilter and wasn’t meant for me at all.   At this point it would also have been very easy to think, hang it all that they were right, “there is some dark, evil force hanging over me, which I need to rid myself of”.  Yes, this was actually the content of one of the emails I received.  But instead, a part of the old me re-appeared the stubborn me and I thought, I’ll show them, I will do it.  I will not be beaten.

Last week, I woke up one morning to be met with another such email.  I suddenly decided to cull the email inbox, it was time. I removed myself from this regular onslaught upon my sense of wellbeing and the threat of a cloud lifted almost immediately.  I really should keep going and get rid of some of the other emails too but hey, one step at a time….

Things started to feel better, day to day and the future.  If the days were meant to go well, then they would. I handed my future back to fate pleased that it would be in her hands for a while, that I cannot push in a direction that I may not be able to go.  I can only do what I do, if I do it well, then life will reward me. If I do not, then Karma will give me that kick up the backside, which I will probably deserve.

And that brings me to my #LessonsLearned:

Fate has always served me rather well that along with my intuition, whom I should follow much more carefully in the future. I believe in Magic, it presents itself in so many ways.  I have my very own Guardian Angel looking out for me all along, he is living, breathing and beside me every day.

The Daily Post – Underestimate

 

 

 

 

 

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George’s Hidden Treasure

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When we came and found it,
We looked here and there.
Picked a spot to sit,
but wasn’t even a chair.
I thought I’d tell what I know about George,
And the friendship that we would forge.
You see, the house it had been stripped,
Of all his worldly goods.
Or so we thought, as we tripped,
Around the sheds and woods.
But as we ventured all around,
The odd treasure still to be found.
An occasional thing had been replaced,
Or scattered about, a little defaced.
In the sheds hung his old tools,
The scavengers, were only fools.
Inside the house there was a table,
But with small minds they weren’t able.
For a moment to stop and think,
As to why it was covered in ink.
I wanted to do a little research,
In the garden, of pine and birch.
There’s bottles and baskets and old clothes,
Digging around an old treasure trove.

Picture a place with a scene of beauty,
Looking around at nature’s bounty.
A place filled with such mystery,
As I began to research his story.
There were pots that had been made by hand,
Strange things I’d found buried on the land.
Antique ladders, a walking stick
To get you about when you’re in the thick.
A painting or two hidden above the stair,
Behind the wall when I stripped it bare.
Writing was not just his legacy,
He was an artist who craved to be free.
Visiting ladies to the hilltop would clamour,
To his studio to sit, with none of the glamour.
He would sit alone and he’d paint
In the house, so cold and very quaint.
Perhaps he had some heating supply,
Upon which he could rely.
There disrobed on a couch she might lay,
Whilst the farmer was off, making hay.

Around these parts it was said, he’s a scribe,
The odd bottle of brandy was known to imbibe.
Walking around, you should take a look
Searched to find copies of his book.
For this is the place he chose to reside,
Next to the house where the horses will ride.
Lived there alone and up there he hunted,
With coldness of winter he was confronted.
Wrote books about writing and he had laid claim,
of stories and cooking which wasn’t so plain.
There was a short doorway, it wasn’t so tall,
But it did for him, he was decidedly small.
Some time ago I read of his travels,
But with time, the story unravels.
But over the years, the things that he crafted
Remain buried here and they’ve lasted.
Things he created, sit out the back,
There in the garden, a wonderful plaque.
His scattered remains of the man he once was,
We leave it right there, just because.
Although the scribe has temporarily vacated,
The delight to share, is unabated.
The place where he once took his pleasure,
He still resides in his time of leisure.
As guardians here now we’ve been sent,
His spirit has shown, for us it was meant.
For right up here might be where it began,
The house that belonged to a little wee man.
He visited once to bid us adieu
Now raising a glass to him, Salut.