Tag: Advice

Why Me?—The Victim Stage of Life #psycholgoicaldevelopment #spiritualdevelopment #spiritualadvice #psychology

From our first breath we must trust someone—to feed us, to diaper us, to shelter us from harm. In the deepest part of our subconscious mind, we have neural pathways that desire to lay our fears down at the feet of security—any secure behavior. So, why is it that, when we become adults, our trust wanes for even the basic needs of our lives, food and shelter?

The why-me stage is a defining moment in everyone’s life when we realize that not all of life is going to be taken care of for us. A healthy person wakes up to personal responsibility, if his eyes are open, and learns to walk, run, feed herself, and even push doors open to get outside of his/her old needing paradigm.

When we are children, we can’t help but be narcissistic. Our entire world revolves around our needs. When parents break away from helping us, this is our chance to try out the use of our own legs, then our wills. As you can see from a young child, though, sharing isn’t something that happens normally. No, in fact, an infant must be taught that the world isn’t all about him or her. Sometimes, if the teacher of this lesson, is not so compassionate, we learn not only to share, but to share spitefully, then expect to taken care of all over again.

Carl learned at a young age that only time his mother paid attention to him was when she would dress him up like a little girl and dote on him. You see, his mother wanted a baby girl. Life didn’t give her what she desired, so she forced her baby boy into her own small world of discontent.

When Carl became an adult, he tried to walk away from the old messages from his mother, but eventually he ended up secretly dressing up like a woman, using his wife’s bra and panties. The wife discovered Polaroid pictures of Carl in their shed in a lockbox. After a year of counseling, she divorced him, because Carl wouldn’t give up his personal fantasy. The next week, the wife heard that Carl robbed a liquor store at night, then sat on the store’s steps waiting for the policeman to take him to jail. Carl never left the “why me” stage. Even as an adult, he needed someone to take care of his infant urges, so much so, that he forced himself to go to jail so that his shelter, food, and basic needs would be taken care of.

Not everyone has an issue this deep, but by this story, you can see the problem that exists when a person resists growing up out of the “why me” or just “What about me” syndrome. Everyone must learn that to get to any new stage in life, you must let go of the idea that anyone owes you anything. The next steps in life are certainly up to you.

So, if you sit alone wondering why you have a bad life, you never get the opportunity to move to the next stage of spiritual/psychological development, which is the “By Me” Stage. In this stage, we realize that life must happen as a result of good deeds, schooling, compassion, truth, and wisdom. If we don’t embrace the by-me stage, nothing much good happens for us. We don’t interact well with others, we lose jobs that helped us support ourselves, and we sit alone wondering why the world hates us.

Today, is a day we must take the opportunity to say: Life happens as I become the author of my own destiny!

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Chosen to show his new hypno-therapeutic techniques on The Learning Channel and also being chosen to teach at the world conference for Learning, Bo Sebastian, the writer and director of Finding Authentic You, helps people such as you make SIGNIFICANT CHANGE with habits, find your SOULMATE, your PASSION, experience YOUR DREAMS, and dictate your own FUTURE. Challenge yourself with one of his 13 books, healing CDs (weight loss and relaxation) or Yoga DVD on Amazon or Amazon/Kindle: Buy Here!]

The_Leaving_Cellar_Cover_for_Kindle “The Leaving Cellar” is a novel based on the concepts of this blog, written by Bo Sebastian.

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Midnight at the House of Someone Hungry (A Look at Dieting)

Midnight at the House of Someone Hungry (A Look at Dieting)

My eyes popped open at five minutes to midnight again. All I could think about was eating. The 3 carrot sticks, 4 celery sticks and ½ piece of low fat cheese I ate at 7 pm for a snack was rumbling around in my stomach like a boiling stew. I felt so hungry—more hungry than sleepy.

My wife was snoring next to me. She didn’t notice me getting out of bed. I snuck to the kitchen. My God, it had been days since I had been alone with food. I felt as if I would bust down the doors of every cupboard, trying to find the quickest fix I could: sugar, salty snacks, carbs—I didn’t care.

I started with some cookies. Before I realized it, I had wiped out two entire rows of Oreos and had drunk a quart of milk. I knew I should stop. But then that thing happens to me where I have to have something salty after I eat something sweet.

I spotted a bag of unopened potato chips on top of the refrigerator. I ripped into them, thinking the entire time of my innocence story I would need the next day when my wife saw the 1/2 empty bag. Then I thought maybe if I ate all the chips, took the bag to garbage can outside and threw it away, maybe she would forget she bought them completely. That’s what I did, as I licked the last bit of salt off of my fingers.

I washed my hands and face in the downstairs bathroom before heading back up to bed. As I looked at myself in the mirror, I could see the extra fat under my chin I wanted so badly to get rid of. I wanted to rip it off right there. I swear, I almost cried. Why can’t I stop eating? What’s wrong with me?

With my head down and ashamed, I went back to the bed. When I turned the covers over my shoulder, my wife wrapped her arm around me. “You okay, honey?” she whispered.

I didn’t answer. I just grabbed her tighter. I feared if I started to tell her what was wrong, I would really break down. I knew I would be better in the morning. I’m good at talking myself down. I can get up and know it’s a new day and that I have a wonderful family who loves me. It doesn’t matter how I look. I can convince myself that. I can convince myself that… until I stand on the scale. Then I’m sad all over again.

When did this start? When did I start hating myself so much that all I care about doing is hiding behind food?

When did every emotion get stuffed down with a piece of cake or a hoagie?

Must have been a long time ago.

A time I don’t want to think about.

I guess that’s why I’m here.

Right here.

Standing on the scale.

Sad.

Again.

* * *

Bo Sebastian is a Hypnotherapist and Life & Health Coach, available for private sessions to LOSE WEIGHT, Quit Smoking, New Lap-Band Hypnosis for Weight Loss, CHANGE YOUR MIND, CHANGE YOUR LIFE! at 615-400-2334 or www.bosebastian.com

I am trying to spread the word about my blog and I need your help. Please let your friends know it exists, if it gives you hope and blesses you each day. Your connection to me blesses me in everyway possible. And I would be greatly pleased for you to share anything that you read by clicking the share button in Facebook.com/bo.sebastian, or add it to your Twitter at BoSebastian; or LinkedIN at Bosebastian5@gmail.com; or find this blog home at www.FindingAuthenticYou.com. Any of my books can be found on Amazon or Barnes and Nobel, just by typing my name in the search header.
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Midnight at the Betty Ford (A Closer Look at Addiction)

Midnight at the Betty Ford Clinic

There’s a dim light in the hallway coming from the nurses’ station halfway up the corridor. My room is filled with people—imaginary people—because I have been on shut down from outside visitors for over two weeks. Why? Because every time I see a familiar face from my past. I go into hysterical outbursts about how friggin’ angry I am about life and how God doesn’t care about me or anything that happens to me. The doctors here actually put a lock on my door. Said I was bothering the other –aholics. Really? My anger is bothering other people? I thought that’s why we were here to get to the end of this mess we call the ugly past.

Ugh, I can’t sleep again. I lie awake all night throwing a damn rubber ball against the ceiling and catching it. When I get tired of that, I throw it against the wall and catch it. The sons-a-bitches even took away my TV. Said that I wasn’t focusing in on my problems. I was deflecting, reflecting, diverting… who knows. All I can think about is a drink.

I sweat when I think about a drink. It’s as if my body remembers the warm rush it gets when my neurotic brain goes on a vacation and I get to rest for a few hours and fall into blank space. I want that now, but no one will let me have that. Why won’t they give me the only thing that will make me happy? Why?

It’s three minutes after midnight. I begin doing all the work I am supposed to do when I feel the urge for a drink. I take some deep breaths. I utter those hard-to-say affirmations that make my skin crawl, because I can’t believe anything good about myself. I have moved my eyeballs from left to right over and over until they scratch from dryness. I have tapped the different parts of my body while I repeated, “I’m okay and in God’s loving hands!”

Now, I’m actually feeling a bit better—calmer. I can’t believe it, but I am feeling better. My mind isn’t in a loop like it was. I can feel the bed underneath me supporting me. It feels solid and strong. I sense the walls around me as a secure place, not a prison. I will be okay. I close my eyes and rest falls over me.

3:00 A.M

I’m wide awake again. I don’t know if someone just walked down the hall, or if I was just imaging it. But I was frightened. I grabbed my pillow. The sound brought back a feeling I don’t want to face alone, not tonight. Maybe I can talk about it with my counselor in the morning. For the first time since I’ve been here, I was glad I had someone to talk to about what was coming up.

I breathed deeply again. I can feel my chest pounding. I try to count my breath as I was taught. Six counts in and six counts out. Even breath makes my brain think I’m okay, stable, calm. It will help me sleep. I’m alone and safe. My door is locked. Again, I fall into silence.

7 A.M.

A nurse wakes me up to go for breakfast and a morning walk with a therapy group. I’m comforted by routine. We do this five mornings a week. Routine is good. Being with other people is good. I’m getting better. I’m getting better. It takes times, but with God and the love of my friends and family, I’m getting better!

 

* * *

Bo Sebastian is a Hypnotherapist and Life & Health Coach, available for private sessions to Quit Smoking, Lose Weight with the new Lap Band-Hypnosis, CHANGE YOUR MIND, CHANGE YOUR LIFE! at 615-400-2334 or www.bosebastian.com.

I am trying to spread the word about my blog and I need your help. Please let your friends know it exists, if it gives you hope and blesses you each day. Your connection to me blesses me in everyway possible. And I would be greatly pleased for you to share anything that you read by clicking the share button in Facebook.com/bo.sebastian, or add it to your Twitter at BoSebastian; or LinkedIN at Bosebastian5@gmail.com; or find this blog home at www.FindingAuthenticYou.com. Any of my books can be found on Amazon or Barnes and Nobel, just by typing my name in the search header.

 

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