Episode 12 No Means No .. Vulnerability Is Power..

My Healing Journey Is Painful...

Stuck Midway...

His Abuse Continues..

Thank You For Watching..

I Would Love To Hear From You..

Email  sleeplessingranada@yahoo.com

Transcript

SPEAKER_00: 0:00

Hello and a huge big Scottish welcome. Episode 12, Sleepless in Granada. Today I'm hiding from the heat. It's 34 degrees and that lovely breeze that normally makes it bearable for me has vanished and the humidity is up. I'm glugging down litres of water today and as my grandfather used to say, I'm pishing like an old cart horse. I'm trying to pinpoint the timeline when I stopped being my monster's love interest and when I became a burden. He was constantly Constantly yelling this at me. but he could not fathom that I didn't need to earn my worth with mega money, my value, and is priceless. I was the house servant, the sex slave, the emotional punch bag, his counsel, and his confidant. And then one day, I just woke up. I would not go back to that old life if I was paid a million euros a year. My mental health and physical well-being, my freedom, my peace of mind, my contentment and clarity, and my happiness are worth so much more than money. There are just some things money can't buy. Now I believe in me. I'm good as I am. It took me a long time to believe this. My micro behaviors changed. Those small actions and reactions that became so ingrained in my subconscious. I stopped chasing things and chasing people. I stopped looking for approval. I stopped trying to people please. I now trusted in me. I trusted in myself. I stopped taking a stop list from everyone, asking their opinions and when I grew strong and I healed, when I fell Yes, it's wonderful to have humans around you and connections are fabulous. But if your goal is you need someone to complete you, then sorry, it's game over. When I decided that I was good enough, I stopped giving my all to others. I now realise that in doing so, I abandoned me. It was self-destructive. I had forgotten what thriving was. I had been in survival mode for the longest time. I'm good on my own. I'm good as me. I burned all my illusions, destroyed them one by one. This was very sore. I started having boundaries. In a world where it's more at ease when women keep quiet, say yes and smile, even when their hearts are breaking. And you know, it's not selfish and it's not heartless. It's simply choosing yourself first. It's not abandonment by demanding freedom. It's not cruelty. My silence and solitude are not signs of failure. I was not broken. I was simply bleeding out because my deep wounds had never been properly dressed. Just remember, you are whole, you are a woman. This is my own lived experience and it may not resonate with you all. This has really helped me to move through my experiences of pain and suffering much quicker. After going through much of my life, years and years with excruciatingly sore pain that you can't even imagine, now I love myself. I love myself unconditionally, warts and all. I still have much to learn and learn and learn. I still have to practice and over and over. Sometimes it's so fucking hard. Even when I feel abandoned and rejected. When I feel worthless. When I feel like a failure. When I had no money in my bank. When I failed all these things. Yet I still love myself and that's why I knew, deep down I knew, I had turned a corner. Sometimes I failed. Sometimes my life's burdens just got too heavy for me to carry on my back. And sometimes I didn't have an actual fuck to give. Sometimes, just sometimes, I just had I had no strength left inside me to lift or even drag all my baggage. But that's also fine. It's a procedure, a process. In the midst of all this fucking shite when I had nothing, nothing to show for myself externally, when nobody else understood me, this is when I dug down way down deep into myself and I still found me, the real me and a way to love myself. Slowly, all that shit began to lift and it will pass. It does pass. And once again, I began to smell the fresh air that was all around me I opened my eyes again I had clarity I had acceptance most of the time this works but on the rare occasions it doesn't at least I love myself and I respect myself and that is so fucking powerful this shit's very complicated and I've no idea how it works I'm just a human like you I no longer needed to wear a mask I stopped playing that role I stopped abandoning abandoning myself I stopped confusing being essential this is not being indispensable all I had done was build a life that only functions if i over functioned and that's fucking exhausting but it's not a flaw it's a system i inherited and i kept alive to keep everyone else fed soothed and calm everyone else's needs and wants were met but not mine i stopped being all things to all men instead i simply began being myself again i demanded boundaries and i demanded truth and for him to show up for me the warrior woman underneath was buried but she was still there i did i dug her up and i reignited her flame she will rise again from the ashes she is and was enough just the way she is no means no let your people see the whole of you the vulnerable you not just the strong coping version of you it's absolutely terrifying when your life has always been about staying invisible your way to stay safe that woman is inside you set her free I remember sitting on the couch as my monster continued to rain his verbal blows down on me I began shrinking shrinking shrinking the couch was swallowing me whole and it felt so bloody well good I yearned for my invisibility cloak to envelop me it helped for a while but when I looked in the mirror the woman with the saddest lifeless eyes was still there staring back at me I shrank to protect his comfort but that's not loyalty that's akin to a spiritual hostage situation I became one of the living dead when told you are too much when you are told you're too opinionated when you're told you're too real for the the humans who only know how to love the surface and not your beautiful soul, they can fuck right off. I have travelled far through my silence, always hiding my pain. But do you know something? When you have a flicker of hope, this small flicker can spark. And from it, the new incredible you will grow. That inner critic in your head isn't the true voice. It's the echo of all those who dismissed, ignored and abused you. Please realise you're not broken. You're just rebuilding yourself in the dark. You have carried so You've twisted yourself into someone lovable, never realising you were always lovable, adorable and unique just by being you. The first step to healing is just getting started. You're not alone and you know something, you're on your way. I stopped apologising for all my mess. My soul was fierce yet tender. I told my truths even when he squirmed. I had forgotten how to dream. I was drowning in obedience. I was buried alive, buried because I was the one who had to douse all the vermin. My worth is worth way much more than what I had to endure. This was functional self-abandonment. I had traded my authentic self for stability and it was fucking shit. I kept loving through the numbness. I kept hoping through the smog. This is not weakness, it's perseverance. It's powerful. I know I can never go back and help the beautiful little girl I was. Instead, I choose to help me, the woman. I have now become the woman that I was always meant to be. A woman who loves deeply. I am no longer ruled by guilt. The past are just memories now. My monster had this air of superiority. He thought that most humans were beneath him. When we travelled on planes and trains and buses, he would exclaim loudly, I fucking hate travelling with the cattle class, mixing with the great unwashed. I cringed and shrivelled up even more. But I wasn't brave enough to voice my opinions then. In my head I screamed at him, you fucking bloody horrible delusional scum. snob. He was and is a covert narcissist. He totally loved hurting me. It fed his superiority. It made him feel good. It was not just the abuse. He loved the feeling of being superior, that he was way better than me and indeed was better than most of the humans on this earth. I never felt we were a partnership of equals. In his delusional mind, he was better than anyone and everyone around. His abuse was all-encompassing and it made him feel like he was the big cheese. He had to find ways to fuel his narcissistic ego. The more abuse he ran down on me, the more I reacted and cried. The more contempt he showed for me. I didn't realise any of this at the time. It's absolutely exhausting. My new life alone. When I got stuck on my healing adventure, it was painful and confusing. I had been living in the cracks between who I was and the life I was trying so hard to create. Living in the cracks is a strange, strange place to be. I had outgrown the old version of me. The one who was silent. The one who tolerated all his fucking abuse. I shrank and I shrank. I shrank so small I truly was invisible. I hadn't yet stepped into my new shoes yet. I was still breaking them in and it was so scary. The new me is free, content and whole. But when I was mid-shift, fuck me it was terrifying. I was so frightened and sometimes, just sometimes I lost my way. I was so exhausted. It's not just about how much effort you put in. It's the emotional weight of all the baggage that you're carrying. You're so determined not to repeat the past. All of this going on, you're still trying to figure out what you want instead. You're still trying to navigate a life that no longer fits. And still your dreams are filled with a life that no longer exists. It's that space between shit, not this, and not being there yet. It's that feeling of being stuck. But this is okay. It's a process. It's not a failure. This is a natural feeling. Believe me, this is growth. You're like a moth in a cocoon. You're shredding and you're rebuilding and when you're ready you will emerge. The beautiful you that's always been there. It's learning to hold and sit with all your heartache and the hope for your bright new future. Where does your pain live in your body? For me it was in my gut and in my throat. For some people it's in their chest and they can't breathe. For others it's a clenching jaw or shoulders tightening. This confusing limbo always rears its ugly head when we least expect it. but really it's fine to feel stuck. What would you tell a dear, dear friend going through the same thing? The same agony? You wouldn't be harsh. You'd be comforting. Come on, you can do this. Hold my hand. This is what I did and it helped me so much. I wrote down three versions of me that I have outgrown. I named them. I thanked them. I then lit my fire and I burned the papers. I watched them dissolve into ash. It was symbolic and I cried like a little baby. Then I wrote a letter to myself from the version of me that's still trying. I put the this in an envelope and I licked it and sealed it. When I had moments of self-doubt and that old favourite of mine, self-loathing, when it returned I opened the letter and it gave me hope and it got me back on track. This is when I realised what I had overcome and it gave me great strength. We all get tired and feel exhausted at times by all that life throws at us but please remember you're doing great. This part is tough because it matters. You're not at the starting line. You're midway. The finish line is in sight and this is where your magic begins believe in yourself when in doubt look back at your life last week last month or last year you've come such a long way feel proud of yourself and all you've accomplished believe in yourself you're amazing vulnerability is absolutely essential for growth and now a piece from my memoir it's set in Kiev Ukraine I have written some background information because of the ongoing war most of you won't get the chance to visit this incredible country interesting facts about Kiev. Kiev is a magnificent work of art. I had the absolute privilege of living in Ukraine for four and a half years. The sunflower is the national flower of Ukraine. Annual production of sunflower oil is between 4.5 and 5 million tons, making Ukraine the largest producer in the world. Annual production of sunflower seed stands at 17 million tons. The climate is extreme, baking hot summers and minus 20 She sits resplendent on the banks of the Dnieper River, steeped in fascinating history and culture, a vibrant cosmopolitan hub. Ancient traditions merge with modern living. The atmosphere is alive, enchanting and full of energy. She is also one of Europe's oldest cities, founded in the 5th century. The oldest cathedral is St. Sophia's, built in the 11th century, reflecting the country's rich spiritual energy. heritage. My favourite is St Michael's Monastery with its incredible golden domes and it was built in 1108. Byzantine architecture, a testament to the city's remarkable past. One of the oldest strongholds of Slavic culture and heritage. In the 11th century Kiev was 50 times bigger than London and 10 times bigger than Paris. Arsene Alna is the second deepest metro station in the world at 105.5 metres deep. Kiev has 55 art schools and it still remains one of my favourite cities ever. already set up their colourful wooden stalls along the walkways. The tantalising aromas of street food struck my nostrils. Warm roasted chestnuts, caramelised nuts and the inviting smell of fresh butter popcorn soon had all my senses zinging. Car horns honked as impatient drivers attempt to navigate through the crowds. Glistening strands of twinkling light straped across the grand facades of all the towering public and historical buildings creating a magical aura. that sparkled against the deep, inky canvas of the sky. The magnificent golden domes of St. Michael's Cathedral loomed majestically above us, glinting like treasure in the twilight, and the intricate details of the architecture whispered to me of a bygone era. Each curve and arc told tales of resilience and determination. We paused to capture the moment the magic of Kiev cast a spell over us. I want to bottle our special night and keep it forever I could. A child's squealing delight broke me from my reverie. We turned towards the joyous sound and at that moment the fountains came to life, hurtling gigantic water jets into the night sky, each a magical ribbon of liquid joy, resembling diamonds as they cascaded through the air. We stood together mesmerised. Some children stood bewitched by the dramatic water choreography. Others played tag, tiny feet cased in Wellington boots, jumped and splashed in the puddles that formed. Parents instinctively, their excited offspring away when they ventured too close. preventing them from getting drenched in the icy cold water. The allure was undeniable. It was a glorious scene. The carefree laughter and screams of delight were infectious. Picture-perfect innocence. As we viewed from the sidelines, something magical unfolded. The couples around us began to dance, spinning and twirling, their movements filled with joy and spontaneity. Indeed, we couldn't resist joining in ourselves. The music wrapped around us in a warm embrace. We lost ourselves in the moment, laughed As loud claps of laughter and cheers resonated around us, we savoured every precious moment. Feelings of complete and utter joy overwhelmed us. It was just us, entranced by the playful display and furling before our eyes. As we continued along the way, the air buzzed with animated chit-chat as families soaked up the atmosphere. Locals and tourists meandered along as they enjoyed an evening out on the town. The vibrant hum of inebriated youths as they all competed with one another to be the best they could be. bag the best looking girls. The street performers were out in force that night, each vaying for us to part with a few coins. Talented buskers belted out the latest tunes and added to the mood with their exuberant performances. Suddenly an overwhelming wave of tiredness enveloped me. The excitement of the evening began to fade as fatigue crept in and settled on my bones. Snuggling in closer, seeking comfort in his big two-line frame. Let's have a nightcap in an early night, I whispered. Oh, and I forgot I need some water. As we navigate through the throngs of people going towards the underground supermarket, our fingers touched in the slightest caress, and shivers of anticipation coursed through my body. Romance was definitely in the air tonight. Because of Kiev's adverse weather conditions, most of the stores and malls are in its vast underground networks. The subterranean space allowed shoppers a comfortable haven from the winter winds and the rain. This deliberate placement protects the patrons from winter's biting cold and the scorching summer sun As we descended the escalator into the abyss, we felt warmth, a stark contrast to the bitter cold outside. The store was busy. The clatter of shopping carts accompanied the buzz of late-night intoxicated travellers and students bustling to buy their last-minute essentials, booze and party supplies. As we navigated through the aisles, took up our water and some sweet treats and then headed to the checkout. As we patiently stood in line, we watched the merriment of the vocal shoppers in the lively underground store. Out of no where a large, robust, middle-aged woman in full Ukrainian dress unexpectedly and abruptly barged directly into us. Her portly carriage, commanding and unapologetic, proceeded to stand in front of us in the line and made no apology. Her rudeness was blatant. I remained silent, not wanting any negativity on this splendid romantic evening. The woman had no spatial awareness. She pushed, and then she pushed, and then she pushed some more. As she passed me in her floral, embroidered full-length dress. One of her many underlayers snagged on my basket. I thought this was comical and attempted to stifle the laughter that gurgled in my throat. As I turned to let him in on the secret, with a big smile plastered on my face, I was appalled. His body had tensed in response to this woman's brazen-faced demeanour. His face was putrid. His expression distorted all his features. His jaw clenched, his brow wrinkled, and the burning hatred in his dark eyes startled me. Why he he why had he reacted so furiously to a seemingly trivial encounter his eyes were staring and fixated on the woman's back oh dear god oh dear god no please please don't let him do this not not in public did you see what she just did to me he growled fat cow no regard for anyone no decency or civility he continued she's drunk i said shh i put my finger up to my mouth just ignore her i whispered oh the fucking irony i said to the voice of my head the cheery but Ahem! Ahem! Ahem! and now I tried everything in my power to calm him but I failed the tick in his tempo continued to pulsate my heart was pounding frantically as we left the supermarket the buzzing energy of Kiev's underground nightlife surrounded us entertainers lined the walkway and accordions and violins played sentimental traditional tunes older folks sighed their weathered faces etched with sadness stirred by memories of the past I still felt anxious and on edge the episode ended inside had struck me the air was thick and muggy filled with warm bodies stale sweat and that unmistakable stench of cheap cologne my heart still pounded a thick black cloud of tension had now joined us and still his irritation grew I could feel the shift in his manner I tried speaking to him gently I reached out for his hand but instead of the loving touch he quickly swiped it away we were walking in the direction of the up escalator when suddenly there she was her brightly coloured outfit intensified and twinkled under the harsh fluorescent underground lighting. He had noticed her too. Oh fuck. He was trudging towards the same escalator as us. Her over generous hips jiggled as she sauntered just ahead of us. Suddenly he left my side and sprinted after her, leaving me aghast. Oh fuck. My fist bunched into my mouth in a silent scream. He was a man on a mission. I watched in disbelief as he stormed towards this woman, angry and something else I couldn't quite grasp yet. I could I was frozen in time, terrified and shocked. Something inside me got me moving again. Just as the woman got onto the moving escalator, he made his move. Without hesitation, he lunged straight at her, with the force of a rugby tackle striking her from behind. The woman stumbled and screamed in terror. The collision was so forceful that her bags flew from her grip. I continued to watch in horror as all the contents tumbled out. Her bottle of vodka and her meagre rations flew with abandon down. down the steps and landed on the wet polished tiles at the bottom. Murmurs of surprise went up and a few youths bellowed derogatory remarks. Her astonished bellow and her furious cries reverberated around the underground. People nearby gasped in horror as they turned to witness the commotion. Their curious faces reflecting a mixture of concern, shock and more than a wee tinge of voyeuristic fascination. Everyone was watching in a translight state. Breaking from my reverie, I shouted at him. What are you doing? I was silently pleading with him. And then it started again. Ahem. Ahem. Ahem. Unbelievably, a smug look crossed his face. This was a victory for him. He was preening like a peacock. I could almost see the gears in his mind turn up. My stomach heaved, swallowing down hard to stop the bile that threatened to escape. I felt powerless against this tidal flow of fury. The babble and laughter around us faded into a dull roar. The woman was now speaking to him in Russian. She was She was bewildered by his aggression. Her startled expression mirrored my shock and fear. He stood before her, fists bald, breath heavy, as if daring her to retaliate. She needs to learn some fucking respect. I stared defiantly at him. Fear coursed through me as I put my body between them. Her glazed eyes looked stunned, wide with disbelief. And then the stale alcohol hit my nose. She hadn't deserved the assault. No one ever did. The brutal reality cut deep. Another injustice. It was incomprehensible that he could inflict such violence on another human being to strip away her self-worth without guilt or thought for his actions. Something fierce in me stirred. The sheer cruelty of the attack replayed in my mind. To violate another woman's sense of safety and dignity over something so trivial. A big coward and a bully hiding behind his mask of aggression, intimidation and cruelty in hindsight I wish I had done more instead I stood motionless I grabbed his arm and tried to pull all 115 kilos of him away walk away walk away I said with all the strength I could muster his anger shifted momentarily his gaze met mine I silently pleaded with him one more time to please please stop I took a step back and I was looking into the black pits of hell who does she think she is she should have known her place he barked this at the crowd he had an audience now and he was absolutely loving it can we please go now I implored him please can we go I was tugging at his coat sleeve embarrassment washed over me I noticed everyone's stare mouths wide and shocked they looked at me with pity in their eyes filled with empathy and concern it was the strangest sensation being seen in such a vulnerable state tears now streamed of their own accord down my hot and mortified face I fumbled in my coat pocket in search of a hanky the woman looked old, frightened and dishevelled. A few people had gathered around her in a protective circle holding her hand and whispering words of comfort. I longed to approach her but I did nothing. Instead I jammed my hands into my coat pockets and I waited. Again he yelled into the small crowd that had gathered to watch. The battle for supremacy raging within. He was wrestling with his emotions. Something vital changed in me that night. My earlier joy now spiralled into something quite ugly. My heart was drowning in in an ocean filled with tears. Once again, I grew invisible. Within the shadows of despair, haunting emptiness enveloped me. The moon lost all its stars. The earth had no gravity. I have died, but I am not dead. The realization, deep down, that night's problems didn't just stem from the encounter with the woman in the store. The disturbing brutality brewing inside him was something I could no longer ignore. He was an evil man. I was always on high alert when I heard the unmistakable telltale sign of him clearing his throat. The very sound sent a surge of anxiety coursing through my body and shivers down my spine. The air would thicken with tension, the calm before the termulous tidal wave. His ritual noise was really a benign gesture. It was a signal that his patience was wearing thin. I knew only too well what was in store for me as that rhythmic, repetitive clearing echoed around the room. I felt the temperature drop and the atmosphere thickened with oppressive tension that enveloped me like a suffocating fog. I memorized all the signs. His brow would deeply furrow. His bloodless lips would press together in a thin line. His piggy dark eyes would spark, then stare, translate, and then they became dead. The sudden stiffness in his posture as he squared his shoulders, a warrior as he prepared to do battle. Was this psychological warfare? He left behind a trail of emotional destruction. My heart would race and I always braced myself for the inevitable And I found myself instinctively holding my breath. A knot of trepidation would form in the pit of my stomach. Each of these actions, whether a seemingly innocent, can't you take a joke, comment, or a subtle manipulation that twisted my words and left me stuttering in stammering. As I tried to clarify what I had just said, he would bend my choices and emotions according to his whims. As I pondered his perplexing behaviour, I found myself diving into the mucky waters of his sigh. I tried but failed to unravel his character. What should have been a loving marriage had morphed into a complex mind game of power dynamics where love, affection and intimacy felt conditional. Trust began to erode like sand slipping through my fingers. Whenever I plucked up the courage to speak and assert myself I would be ignored and met with a complete wall of silence. His eyes would narrow, exasperation flashing across his features and I was left feeling small and invisible. I'm glad that's finished. That was really, really difficult for me to read that there. Thank you for listening. Please email me at sleeplessingranada at yahoo.com. I would love to hear from you and if you've been affected by anything that I've said or if you've been in a similar situation.