Hi, my dears,

so here it is. A Spring. I still love this time of the year so much. I am working on some changes as I wrote in my previous post. So this Spring will be like fresh air for me.

I am sorting photos on your phone and I noticed, that I didn't share with you some of the bright moments of my crocheting. How could this have happened? So here are some of them. :-)

My owls in a special edition about crocheting at Kreativ magazine in 2022

So this spring I am cleaning the house into the deep. Before I read some books about cleaning, of course. :-) You know me, I'm the studious type. These two I can highly recommend. The gentle art of Swedish death cleaning by Margareta Magnusson. It is not sad, don't worry :-)

Do you remember my last post, I wrote about my new word for this year. And it is a change. Today I read a very clever quote, sadly I don't know the author. Anyway, this is it:

Choice. Chance. Change.

You must make the choice,

to take the chance, 

if you want anything in life to change. 

This really hit me. And with this wisdom, I will end today Take care, my dears. ♥

XOXO

Hello, my dears,

first post of the year, ugh. But I'm still in January, so I'm doing well. :-)

How are you? Are the New Year's resolutions slowly fading away or are you working on them steadily? 

This post is very long. The most honest and open I have ever written. Not common about crocheting.... so if you will continue to read it, be kind, please ...

Every year, I started by saying - the last year was hard... And that I will believe, that the next year will be better etc. This year something is different. I made a change because I was afraid I might not live to see the new year. I don't mean that metaphorically. Lying on the ground, crying, and apologizing to my girls and husband for being so weak, thinking of the last list of tasks I will ever write. Feeling so worthless, hopeless, and broken. Yes, last year was hard, not only the last but maybe the last 8 years? I felt completely down and broken so many times during that time. BUT! I don't want to complain. Last year was a game-changer. It also taught me a lot. And it's still teaching. 

Recently my boss told me that when I'm well, I shine across the room, everything around me glows and people like me must never be sad. I'd expect those words from anyone else, but never from him. The white walker, this was the nickname I gave to him. So cold and heartless, everyone's scared of him.... I guess, some time with me changed him a little bit. :-)  

Anyway, I realized I wanted to shine again, that I miss it, but this time, not for someone else, but for myself. And so I'm trying to find my lost light again. And psychotherapy helps me to do that, which I'm also learning because I never knew how to talk about my deepest feelings. I believed, that my role here in this world is to bring light and happiness, not tell someone about my fear, sadness, complaints, and opinions, which could upset them. I hid my feelings from others. I blamed myself for these feelings. I was scared to disappoint anyone if I did not fulfill their expectation. But do you know what? It was mission impossible. But I didn't know it.

And so I am here, in my 43, reading some clever books, realizing that the words seem to be taken out of my mouth and describing my feelings and my life. I can't breathe. My heart would like to jump from my chest. I feel naked. Fragile. But strangely calm, because I realized, that I am not crazy. That the feelings I felt, were right. That the things that happened to me were real and have a real explanation and most importantly, that there is a way out from that sh*t. Realizing, that my high sensitivity is not my weakness but that it is my strength and that I have always known it.

This is one of them. My "oh moment" book. 

The Highly Sensitive Person's Guide to Dealing with Toxic People: 

How to Reclaim Your Power from Narcissists and Other Manipulators

My recommendation for highly sensitive people like me: please read it slowly... and take your time to understand. Be kind to yourself.