Johari’s Window

I learned about Johari’s window a long time ago when I was over a year sober. Each square represents  a part of your mind. The top left is the part of you that is known to you and known to everybody else. The one on the top right is the part of you that is known to others and not to yourself.  The lower left is what you know about yourself that nobody else does. The lower right is neither known by yourself nor others..the subconscious part of your brain.

johari's window

I know the subconscious part is there because sometimes I have a song playing in the car, I get out, go into a restaurant that has music, eat dinner, leave the restaurant, go to my car,  open the car door and start humming  the tune that was on the cd playing when I was previously in the car….without thinking about it.

This past year, I realized more and more how it works. At the end of my marriage, I was hungry all the time, starving, craving everything, sleeping all of the time, horrible heartburn nausea and vomiting.  When I moved into my parent’s home, this slowly dissipated. I have lost 30 pounds, I have more energy, I sleep regular hours. Everything is a lot more consistent.

The part of me that others see and I don’t is the troubling part. Retarded people sometimes are too friendly with strangers and need to be taught boundaries. I have experienced this in a more subtle way. A friend stops calling. I call her, and she’s  busy. She says she’ll call me  back. She doesn’t call me back, so I call again. All of a sudden I notice and I call her and ask her. She lies to me or she lets loose a long string of things that I have done that are weird and uncomfortable. I have decided at this point to let things go. My earlier post about Heather Mills has taught me to not send that e-mail. Don’t write that letter.

So, once again I’m pulling back into my shell wishing to be left alone.
The Christian women in my life today who bless me continually are the ones who are at peace with who I am.  They help me to be a little bit at peace with myself.

Johari’s Window

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