32 years ago, I wrote this poem… Giving this crib to friends for their coming baby had been the very first step to acknowledge the fact that my husband and I would never have a baby together. I had begun to be depressed, and to drink to endure the loss of my illusions...
Hurrah! At last, I have a Big Red Book, printed French edition! When I read Chapter 8 about Inner Child, it reminded me of an exercise I had done twenty-two years ago, during a group therapy. We had to symbolize, by drawing, pasting or any graphical means, the...
In order to regain a best connection with my inner young adult, I decided to listen to all my old cassette tapes (more than 150!). Thanks to osteopathic care, I suffer less from hyper-acousia, and have become able to listen to music again, but no more than one or two...
En grandissant, les seules façons d’obtenir un fragile droit à l’existence étaient: 1) voyager à l’étranger, de préférence dans des lieux perdus ou extraordinaires ; 2) obtenir des diplômes médicaux, ou au moins scientifiques (sciences humaines et littérature étaient...
En travaillant ma 4ème étape, j’avais identifié une croyance toxique implantée en moi : « Si c’est que pour moi, la merde suffira »… Voilà le niveau de respect de soi auquel j’ai été habituée. Il y a 30 ans, j’avais écrit un poème imprégné de cette croyance comme si...
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