cheese graterRaw… what does that mean?

For me, it means that I feel like I have been dragged across a dull cheese grater with excruciating deliberateness – body and soul – over and over again to peel off layer by layer of all that I have believed myself to be. It is the result of the process of going to the center of me to unwind the beliefs that wrap around the core of who I am with reptilian precision, squeezing the life out of me like a squashed tomato. These beliefs have coiled throughout my system and are linked to programs that light up with a rapid-fire speed that is faster than I can see or feel so I am continually digressing to the point where I prove to myself… Angie, you are not enough.

This fundamental belief is ingrained so deeply that it is sprinkled liberally in every cell to the point that, as I process, I can see them squirming and wailing in a sickeningly green haze of subterfuge. Each time I go into session with a coach or a mentor, I discover that program – or an insidious, morbid spawn thereof – at the root of what I’m experiencing. This program is a virus that overrides every security system and drops into place pellets of acidic destruction that lie in wait… waiting to be triggered… waiting for the moment when I am beginning to feel strong and healthy and ENOUGH.

Then, suddenly… something happens… a word someone says in a tone that is just right and it begins the self-questioning and I find myself spiraling so quickly through a vortex like smooth black glass. There is no foothold. There are no handholds. There is simply… nothing. And when the cyclonic spin is complete, I land flat on my face, spread out upon a bed of glass shards, bleeding and exhausted with the only thought in my brain being, “Here I am. Again,” with still no clue about how I’ve arrived there.

The ferocious speed of my programs is stunning and breathtaking. My warriors pop up to protect me before I even realize I need protection. My razor tongue speaks with laser-like precision before I realize I’ve thought the words. And my self-destructive beliefs are in full, blazing power before I have a chance to find something to hold onto to keep me standing in the force of the annihilating forces. When I lay upon the cutting surface of the bottom of the tourbillion, I gaze up through the black, whirling eddy above and cry.

It is like a horrifying version of Groundhog’s Day. And I am just learning about my powerful ability to destroy, all while praying I will come out on the other side alive and be able to create in the wake of who I once was…

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