The Second Day; the WORST


In my previous post I described to you the trauma of the colenema which I now find out is actually called a Colema – fuck it, it is the same shit (pun)!  I thought I would put a real picture up – did your imagination match the reality or is the reality much more hideous? Not exactly an inviting room is it? See that hole – the mud chute – that is where your arse leans up against, legs in the grooves. Lovely…

Anyway I had decided not to have two of those things a day as the thought of doing it twice (once in morning and once in evening) just made me feel so miserable.  I didn’t mind the morning one as I was half asleep and probs more compliant, but to have it hanging over me all day that I would have to have one at 7.45pm hung over me like a dark shit cloud.  I also felt it was excessive. I happened to mention this whilst I was hanging out at the Detox Bar and most people were accepting of my decision – and why would anyone object? Well, you would be surprised…

A man doing the detox piped up that “I HAD TO HAVE TWO” because there would be no point doing the entire detox if I didn’t.  With fire in his eyes, like a rabid dog, he practically barked at me to just try and stop being silly basically.  He then went an put my name back up on the board of colema scheduling.  I laughed at first thinking okay mate simmer down but then he just kept going on and on.  Saying I had to face up to these things and get all the shit out…ugh I just wanted him to go away.  I feel mad at myself really because I was still laughing it off and saying ‘okay I will do it” in the hope of making him shut up.  Why do we have to do this to smooth things over with people? I am so sick of smiling and agreeing just to keep the situation calm.  In my mind I was thinking “mate, you’re a crackpot and you’re making my skin crawl, go away” but I just nodded and laughed “hah hah, okay yea I will think about it” when I knew I had made up my mind.  These type of people make me so nervous.

I went to my room and I could then hear him talking to the owner about me telling her he “was worried about me”.  I just shut my door and lay down on my bed wishing I was about 4000 miles away.  Then he actually came to my door and knocked and asked if I wanted to talk. I told him a frank, NO. At first I thought he might have good intentions but was just a lunatic about it all.  I decided to avoid him at all costs.

I have to add that Day Two was the absolute worst day for me.  I was hungry but not the usual hunger, that sickly hunger where you feel dizzy and weak. I felt really emotional on that day two.  Mainly mad at myself for being this way that I had to fly thousands of miles for some sort of kick up the arse.  I haven’t felt so lonely like that in ages, and vulnerable too. I was panicking that I might get ill and I wouldn’t know what to do.  That guy didn’t help at all, just made me feel cornered.  I went downstairs to the Detox Bar as you have to go there every hour and half to drink a Psyllium Husk drink and take herbs.  The guy was there talking to one of the other inmates – an older lady who had done eleven days of fasting.  They were talking about me! Nice that. They both started rounding up on me about how I must shit my innards out twice a day because it is all part of the process and the fact I am resisting is showing I have issues I need to face up to and that I am being silly etc.  I ended up being very browbeaten and just telling them “yea yea, cool, hhhmmmm yea, that’s your opinion, please respect mine” but they didn’t obviously.  When I was being dismissive the old lady kept going on and on and putting her hand on my arm (get the fuck off me) to basically stop me from talking in body language terms. Every time I said “that is your opinion” she kept replying “you are shutting down the conversation dear” to which I said “yes exactly that” all the while getting pitying looks from this pair of freaks.  In the end a lovely guy stepped in and said “I think you need to respect Sam’s boundaries”.  The pair became very frosty.

That has been one of the most upsetting things I have encountered in years.  To be picked on by total strangers, in a foreign country when you are doing something extremely tough and new, was just horrific.  I went to my room and was crying a lot.  Crying because I felt humiliated and out of my comfort zone that I completely lost my assertiveness. In London or anywhere in the UK I would never let anyone talk to me like that.  I am not known as someone who is shy at saying what I want to say. Deep down I had a suspicion they were picking on me because they were judging me on my body.  I have been ill and down over the last year and it shows – did they think I was an idiot or not in control of my own body or what is best for it?   I didn’t see them talking like that to anyone else? I was the only person there that was new to “scene” so they were treating me like a child.   I then stopped crying and thought that actually this is about them, not me. They were the only people I saw talking to the workers of the retreat like shit and they were also so manically into the whole thing that I realised they are the ones with the issues not me! I was making a rational decision based on my intuition and I was happy.  I had conducted my research and was informed.  These people who absolutely kill something to death have issues.  Apart from anything it is just so fucking boring. I am taking something away from this though is that when people tell you about yourself, ie you need to do this, or that, or you do too much of this or not, it is their weird controlling issues.  People who are in your business without being invited, tell them to fuck off. As grown ups we mostly know what is good for us and we also have to make our own mistakes too.  There is a difference from gentle advice, discussion, respectful debate and downright domination and fuckery.  Usually control freaks love to tell people about themselves so you just have to feel sorry for them that they are so messed up.

Luckily they weren’t around for the rest of my stay so my mood lifted.  As I headed into Day Three I started to question things about myself, mainly what the fuck was I doing…again.

#health #fasting #sober

2 thoughts on “The Second Day; the WORST

Add yours

  1. “They were the only people I saw talking to the workers of the retreat like shit”

    Their attitude to you is revealing enough, but that’s another big give-away that they have deep issues, along the lines: not happy in themselves and projecting that onto others instead of looking within.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: