Letter to my Lizard

Dear Lizard Brain,

I look back on my whole long life, and I see how many times you’ve protected me.

You’ve taught me that I really need to stop ignoring my gut instinct. If I feel someone or something isn’t safe or good for me: it isn’t.

You’ve also showed me that sometimes below the obvious emotions are the most painful ones.

 

Great post Diana. A lot of what you said resonates with me.

reptiles are pretty smart! I think they do just want to be friends, but it takes a bit to get past their walls. Here’s to hoping!

 

Lizard Alumni unite!

 

(Here’s a longer version of my letter. This is my original post, but I got insecure and deleted a lot of it. I’ve got to stop deleting stuff. At any rate…)

Dear Lizard Brain,

I look back on my whole long life, and I see how many times you’ve protected me. Even if I didn’t see it at the time, you have always been on my side. You’ve always wanted to keep me safe. You’ve always intervened when I have been betraying myself the most.

This time, you’ve really been hard at work. Since 2021, you’ve been yelling at me louder and louder to listen. And I’ve ignored you. Until about 18 months ago—when we came to the forum. We started learning a lot. And I started wondering for the first time how you might feel. I started listening to you. Even though I blamed you and hated you at first, after a while, I thought maybe you might have something important to say. And that’s when things really began to change inside of me.

You’ve taught me that I really need to stop ignoring my gut instinct. If I feel someone or something isn’t safe or good for me: it isn’t. I need to act immediately to remedy that, even if the cost is incredibly high.

You’ve also showed me that sometimes below the obvious emotions are the most painful ones. The ones I’d like to avoid. I needed to look deeper. Anger is obvious. But, usually loss is the bottom line emotion. Loss of love, and anything that reminds me of that loss. The loss of my mother is the ultimate loss. Abandonment. It’s all at the core.

You, my TMS, have forced me to say “No” to a million things these past couple years. And you did it by making it hard for me to do much of anything. I hate saying no. I always say yes. That’s been my rule. But lately, I’ve said No to doing things with people I never wanted to do things with. No to jobs I didn’t want to have. No to goals I never should have made. Even though I would have sworn I wanted all these things! I realized, I actually didn’t. You brought me to all these realizations kicking and screaming.

You woke me up to myself. I saw that I am actually mean to myself. And you taught me to stop. I never even noticed!

You showed me I have a touch of pride, and it drives me toward perfectionism. I’m not perfect right now. I can’t even hide my weaknesses. People can see something’s wrong. And I just have to smile and accept it all. I have TMS. They aren’t judging me. I’ve been judging myself. I’ve been humbled.

And you made it more obvious than ever before that I am always looking to be liked. I need that. Because I’m insecure. And now, because of you, I am learning to love myself. And I feel better. I can almost live without approval. Or at least, I’m getting closer.

I’m also learning that I hold a grudge. What a shock! What a surprise. Not me. I would have denied this even several months ago. But you forced me to see it. Holding a grudge is also a way to hold in tension. No wonder my body is in a big knot. I even have more than one grudge. This has been quite painful to learn and recognize. I have a lot of work to do on fixing this.

You taught me to slow down! To watch the fall leaves turn colors outside my window; the snow fall in winter, the flowers bloom in spring and the birds in the summer. There is so much beauty all around. I was missing so much!

You taught me that the world goes on, whether I hover over the news or not. So why hover? It’s a giant cauldron of poison. I’m tired of drinking it. I have to stop the quest for fear in the world, in my family, and in myself.

And you taught me to have Faith in my Higher Power. That everything is part of an unfolding plan. Things will be OK. I can think positively.

Maybe my lizard isn’t a reptile at all? Maybe it’s actually my Higher Power. It seems awfully suspicious—the amount of growth that a mere lizard can produce in me.

Before this round of TMS, I wasn’t being fair to myself. I was barely living. So much has changed for the better. It’s like a total overhaul of my life. I’m so humbled and amazed by this process.

You see, dear Lizard, I have been listening! And honestly, I would love to graduate from your ever watchful care. I think I’ve got this now. Don’t you ? Maybe we can be friends. I’ll be good to myself. I promise. You can rest now.