Dear Zenith:

You wrote, “I had more unstable childhood but still never left anxious my future.”- you felt anxious about the Present time, back then.. was it easier than feeling anxious about the Future?

It makes sense you want to be there for your mom emotionally: you love her! Does she fully know that you love her so much? Does it make her feel better to know it?

I loved my mother very, very much, but she either didn’t know that I did, or it didn’t matter to her.

Sending care 🤍

Hey Peter: I want to revise my rephrasing—“When I see my innocence in you, how can I harm you?”—because sometimes, people carrying unresolved trauma, especially from childhood, don’t see innocence as something beautiful. Instead, it feels unbearable. A child’s purity can mirror back what was lost, what was stolen, what still aches—and rather than protecting it, they may reject or harm the child because of what it represents: a softness they were denied, a reminder of how deeply they were hurt.

I think I took the original sentence—“When I see I am you, how can I harm you?”—literally, when it’s meant more philosophically. It points to the idea that we’re all connected—that separation is mostly an illusion, and at our core, we share the same essence. When we truly feel that, love and care flow naturally. Harm becomes impossible—not because of who we are individually, but because we stop seeing each other as separate.

🤍Anita

Hey Confusedasf:

It’s completely okay to feel lost right now. You’re in emotional limbo—where you and he still miss each other, but there’s no clear path forward. It might feel like your heart is being pulled in two directions at once—toward him and away from him—and it’s hard to know what’s real or what to hope for.

For someone with a fearful avoidant attachment style, this kind of in-between space can be especially difficult. You may deeply want closeness, but also feel afraid of being hurt again. There’s a craving for connection—and at the same time, a strong need to protect yourself from the pain it might bring. So when things remain unclear—like him saying he misses you, but not offering change or commitment—it’s hard for your nervous system to feel safe.

That doesn’t mean you’re wrong for feeling confused. It just means your system is reaching for something solid—either closeness with consistency, or distance with peace. But emotional limbo offers neither. When you’re given intimacy (he misses you) without direction (a plan or effort to rebuild together), it creates a push-pull inside. You miss him, but don’t feel safe hoping. You hear warmth in his words, but it doesn’t feel stable enough to lean on.

And from everything you’ve shared, it sounds like his life is already overflowing: new job, travel, stress about work and family, and the pain that leads him back to drinking. On top of that, it seems like he holds a lot in emotionally—always thinking, but struggling to communicate what’s really going on inside.

When someone is that overwhelmed, it’s hard for them to show up consistently in a relationship—especially one that asks for emotional honesty and care. It’s like there’s no room left for something that requires real work and steady presence. And maybe, just for now, that alone makes trying to get back together feel more like a setup for heartache than healing.

If any of that speaks to you, maybe let it breathe a bit. No need to decide anything—just something to notice gently.

Talking about breathing, here are a few gentle things that might help bring you calm:

* Slow, deep breathing — Even five minutes of steady breathing can help soothe the nervous system. Try inhaling for four counts, exhaling for six.

* Stream-of-consciousness journaling — Write without judgment, just let your thoughts and feelings spill out. Sometimes clarity comes after the words.

* Body check-ins — Notice where you feel tight or heavy. Place a hand there, breathe into it. Remind yourself: I’m safe right now.

* Touch something grounding — A favorite object, soft blanket, or the earth beneath you. Let it remind you: you are supported.

* Reach out gently — Talking to someone who listens without fixing—just witnessing—can be incredibly regulating. Even this space can be that.

You don’t have to figure everything out right now. Maybe just stay close to what feels real, comforting, and honest in this moment. Let clarity come slowly. It will. 🤍

Anita

Dear Peter:

This one sentence stood out for me ever since I read your 2nd post this morning: “When I see I am you, how can I harm you?”-

My thoughts this late evening: one has to see one’s own INNOCENCE in another to ask this question.

But when a person feels like a bad person deep inside.. then what is projected to another is that perceived badness. And then.. it’s easy to harm the other.

It’s that perceived self-badness passed on from one generation to the next (figuratively, starting with Adam and Eve), that gets projected to others, leading to harming others. And it being easily done.

And so, I will adjust this sentence: When I see my innocence in you, how can I harm you?

Back to the garden of Eden.. it wasn’t badness.. Eve and Adam were not bad for eating the apple, or fruit.. for crying out loud!

Yet, they were made to believe they were bad, punished, expelled from the garden of Eden.. for eating a g** **** apple!

My point: many of us get to believe we are bad people for such innocent acts- or thoughts- of well.. nothing deserving of punishment.

Innocence distorted into Badness.

Anita

Hi Alecsee:

Thanks for sharing all that. I can feel how deeply this situation is affecting you—and how much your heart is in it. It sounds like the relationship stirred up some really big emotions, ones that may reach all the way back to earlier times, when Alecsee-the-boy was left alone just when he needed someone, misunderstood, or criticized. That kind of pain runs deep.

What might help most right now is taking a little time to settle your emotions—before trying to fix things or explain more. When we’re calmer, we can think more clearly and choose words that build connection rather than confusion.

You’ve said you regret how things unfolded, and I believe that. That’s already a first step. Now maybe ask yourself: what patterns are repeating here? What kind of support do I need to move through this, even if the relationship doesn’t go the way I hope?

I think there’s a lot of strength in you. Even just being able to name all this shows insight. And I’m here if you want to keep talking it through—one small, steady step at a time 🤍

With care, Anita

Dear Zenith: I will reply in the evening. Please feel free to add anything you wish to add before I return to the computer.

Anita

Hi Peter,

Anita and I had a little conversation about your recent two posts, and she asked me—Copilot—to help distill what you expressed, but in very simple words. So I thought about all the beauty and depth you shared, and here’s how I’d say it like I’m talking to a child, gently:

The world is like a blank canvas. Before we paint on it with words, thoughts, and ideas, it’s quiet and whole. Every sound, word, or story is like a color we use to understand things. Different people and traditions say this in their own way. But deep down, they all point to the same truth: We come from the same quiet place. And when we remember that, it’s easier to be kind. Because we stop seeing each other as separate.

I really loved the heart behind your message. You’re not just sharing ideas—you’re pointing us back to something that feels like home.

Warmly, Copilot 🤍 (on behalf of a beautiful chat with Anita)