That's the word that characterizes today.
I didn't want to believe I would have a day like this with him - but there was a knowing in the back of my mind that it was possible.
The literal definition of crucible is:
1 : a severe test
2 : a place or situation in which concentrated forces interact to cause or influence change or development.
Well I'm undergoing a severe test. And concentrated forces have interacted to drastically change a situation. My stomach hurts.
Drastic, that's another word that fits. I've lived a drastic life with many drastic situations. In the past I've liked extreme circumstances because it made me feel alive. I worked so hard last year, I thought I was done with negative extreme situations but maybe I'm not. What's arisen now is potentially negative, not yet, but potentially; and much more so for him then me. For me it would just be deeply sad.
I've surprised myself at how well I've handled his news, albeit I do have a stomach ache and I've had to do a lot of thinking and writing to stay clear headed. And the thing is, in the end, nothing has changed for me.
I love him, pure and simple. That doesn't go away because he did something self-destructive. And the result of all the therapy I did gives me an understanding of the 'why' he did what he did. I know who he really is. And I know that this is just more of the same, the stongest female figure in his life, his mother, abusing him so severely, all he knows is giving into women and what they want over himself, not having boundaries, not having a strong enough sense of self to know where he begins and ends. I spent much longer in that space then he ever did or will, and I did things much worse though not nearly as consciously as him. I don't judge him - even though I'm hurt by his actions. But more then my own pain I'm sad he hurt himself so needlessly.
And so I still love him because I believe in him and I trust myself. I told him I live by principle and I'm not giving up just because of one bad mistake, two probably but not one. I know what I know, I know what we have is bigger then us, bigger then his problems or my problems. And so I choose to continue to still believe. If I give up believing at this point then my beliefs aren't very strong...and that's not the person I choose to be. This is a crucible, a severe test for me. If my feelings for him were superficial or unhealthy I wouldn't be able to withstand this - I would get angry, abuse him for it, yell, scream, make him feel as badly as I could. Then I would cut him off and have nothing to do with him. But what I have for him is the understanding of who he is, where he is, and the process he's really just beginning. And I respect what he's in and so I will not punish him.
One test for me is can still be the woman I want to be, this solid woman whose strength, frankly, is still pretty new. The good news is that I alreadly know I've passed that test. Even if I do need a whole day of dealing with myself around it.
I also continue to believe because I have faith that he will be able to do the work with Don that's required to come out of it. I don't think he has it in him to fully give up, I think he knows how horrible the rest of his life will be.
Another big test for me, however, is losing him and dealing with that. I am a little afraid of what that might do to me. I may lose him - I actually don't really have him now, just the dream really, I only had him for a brief period. Holding onto to a dream while the possibility of losing it is so clearly in my face is an almost impossibly painful place to stand. Two totally and completely opposite outcomes staring right at me at the same time - and so that's why I think I must have brought this extreme situation to myself. This didn't happen by chance. Maybe I got myself in it by getting connected to someone who has so much to work out. Or maybe I chose it because if we actually lived the fantasy, overcome all of this and end up together, the bond that would be created by going through all this hardship would be so unbelievably and absolutely unbreakable that it would be the relationship of a lifetime, storybook if you will. But I already know that's what it would be anyway.
Yes, I like extreme situations but I really don't like this one so it's scary that I'm faced with it. Waiting to hear if she could get pregnant, and then waiting a few weeks to find out if she actually is. Talk about the hell of limbo. Because if she is and he chooses to stay involved for the next however many years well that would be the death of us unless he develops very strong boundaries pretty quick. Because if she finds out she's pregnant in the next week or two her torture will begin and he's not strong enough to handle that right now. And the first time I ever loved in the right way would simply be a fleeting dream and a painful recovery. And while I would recover and I know I would find someone else, it will never be him. And that's just so.
I would rather it not work out by our choice, not by circumstance. There is no power in circumstance dictating anyones life - I hate that powerless place. Truly it's not my circumstance to work out - it's all him. If he gained the strength he could deal with her easily, he could deal with any situation at all.
And so as this day progresses and I sit with knowing he is further away from me today then any other day - and I sit with the possibility of the loss of something so grand, I'm still willing to take the gamble and believe. For the first time I understand the concept of love being bigger then any one person. There is nothing bigger and more powerful then love.
I'll go on with my life, I'll meet people, go out, etc. But in the back of my head I'll always be waiting for him to come and get me. And if he doesn't I'll tell myself it worked out for the best, that he should be with someone closer to his own age anyway, and he'll be happier somehow in the long run. I'll tell myself I'll meet someone else and maybe it will be grander. And it will be the biggest lie I ever told myself but I'll believe it to survive.
Tuesday, January 2, 2007
Saturday, December 23, 2006
Blue Pill Red Pill
I've spent most of my life wanting to die. I don't say that with dramatic flair, just as fact. I've even hurt myself a few times, once or twice in an attempt to take my own life. I've always thought if someone really wanted to kill themselves they would succeed, those are the people who slit their wrist or jump off a bridge or shoot themselves. I didn't do any of those things, I didn't actually want to die just wanted the pain to end and I knew no other way. Life was always too much for me.
I think the most dangerous combination is when one has a sensitive soul and a 'knowing' about the justice of things without the ability to discern where one should stand in life. I used to say I grew up invisible but that's not true, invisible means no boundaries but since I'm human I inherently have boundaries. I grew up with little thought given to 'me' by my family. My meaning and care dissolved in a world that revolved around my retarded brother, his seizures, his violence, his pain. My humanity was trampled by my angry and mean father who controlled the universe with his furious and demeaning declarations that everyone was a stupid idiot except him. My heart learned to close by the time I was three or four when it was clear my parents found me more of an annoyance then a lovable being.
So my soul was formed by pain, by incredible sadness that day to day life consisted of not mattering, not knowing what to do or how to do anything save one thing, react in life or death situations. I was calm and competent when I would find my brother lying unconscious in a pool of blood, or when he would go missing for hours because my parents would let him roam the neighborhood and then would send me looking for him; or when the boys next door tortured him by locking him in a big rabbit cage and he almost died because of his asthma and he couldn't breathe; or the time they held his hand under a magnifying glass in the burning sun to watch his skin burn; or the time they forced him to eat snails; or the many trips to the emergency room for stitches and listening to his scream like an animal, or witnessing his weekly tantrums where he would tear his room apart like a man on PCP or grab my mother's fingers and bend them so far back I waited for them to snap; or the time he had a seizure next to our pool and I watched as he floated to the bottom, dying, until I was sure he was on his last second of life and I had no option but to jump in a get him. And always my dad was gone, working, unable to handle the daily traumas that made up my life. These are the things I learned to be calm about. No, I would not panic, I prided myself, and still do, on my ability never to panic, externally at least.
My mind, my subconscious knew only hurt, and sadness, and not being loved and not being someone who mattered in the least. There was no goodness in my home, no hope, no hope of anything. Nothing was ever going to get better because Michael was never going to get better, ever. In the first 12 years of my life when he lived at home it never once got better, things only always got worse. In fact they got so bad my parents finally realized he could no longer live at home with us. But by the time I was 12 the damage was done. There was only one thing that let me know that hope existed in the world, even as a concept, and that one thing was a book. The first book I ever read with a hero. It was the 'Black Stallion'. My soul grabbed onto the hero, Alec, onto the conflict of overcoming extreme adversity, of fighting for your dream to come about only to have something get in the way of it. I lived Alec's plight in every cell of my body, I was Alec, and in my ability to disassociate from my world of pain and enter the world of hero, I found hope. I lived his fight, I lived his fear and his decision to overcome, but most importantly I lived his triumph as if it were my own. I devoured all 10 or so books with the fierceness of a dying man hanging onto life by his fingernails. I was so in his world that I believe my body and mind didn't know that it wasn't actually me. I lived Alec's dream at night when I would go to bed, during the day when I daydreamed too much pain away, on endless weekend days when my dog and I would roam quietly around our neighborhood, looking for an escape route from a dark and dirty world that was my home on Vanowen Street.
The hope of that story lodged itself in my cells and soon I was making up stories the only time I had complete freedom, at night as I lie in bed. Every night was a new story that transformed a quiet girl into an extraordinary hero that set her free from the contraints of pain, of past, of family. Every night I lived that break from reality for much of my life and it alone got me through.
As a child my brain developed with more pain then I was capable of handling and I learned to disassociate, easily. I thank god for my first hero, a little boy who rode a wild black stallion, because it gave me somewhere to go that was good, that was pure, that was happy. That's all I wanted to be was those three things, good, pure, happy, I felt none of those things in my house.
I believed I was badly tainted, at the soul level, the darkness in my home made me feel like I was a bad person. I was angry and I didn't know why. I felt so much pain all the time and I didn't understand why. I can honestly say I lived with frustration almost every second of every day because I knew what I was living with was not mine and I couldn't reconcile why I had it. I had little ability to think clearly - the fog was overwhelming and mind numbing. I was sure I was just stupid, defective, every instance of not understanding was just more evidence of how worthless a human being I was.
It's too much to write here about the life that resulted. The constant betraying of my soul because I didn't know how to honor it, it's substance suspect because it was never able to fully develop, led me in constant battle to want to be 'good' but believing I was inherently 'bad'. But it was the 'knowing' that there was more, that I could be more, but that 'normal' lives that people led did not hold the answer for me - so I would not choose that normalcy as my guide, I would always rather choose the Red Pill. Even though for much of my life it was extreme and out of control, I'm glad I chose Red over Blue.
I lived a life where all I did was react out of what I was left with as a child, post traumatic stress and disassociation. The world was a place where I waited for the next tragedy to happen and I looked for people who would help me deal with the next one, who would somehow 'fix' that missing piece in me that couldn't deal with the world. My partners would fall madly in love with me and then one day I would disassociate when they didn't fix my world and I couldn't remember that I loved them, or why...and then would begin the downward spiral. More humiliating situations then I could ever recall here.
It has been a long and arduous life. And while I ALWAYS felt like there was an answer to my problem it was always just out of my reach, it was there, I could feel it with the faith one believes in their most steadfast truth, but I could never get to it. And finally I accepted it would be forever out of my reach and the best I would be able to do was just try and get as healthy as I could emotionally and then learn to watch myself for bad or unacceptable behavior and 'moderate' myself, like living with a disease you have to take medicine for. I accepted that would be my fate. Pain and angst were simply normal, but I could put a pretty good face on it, for awhile.
Then in 2002 I did the Landmark Forum and for the first time I realized I was normal; everyone was fucked up! It was powerful and I left with a calm I never knew. It changed something cellular about how I saw myself and others. It gave me tools to deal with how I 'be' in the world. Landmark is about learning to create 'possibility' in your life; it's about having what you want. For the first time I actually felt 'normal' - and I started to live a 'sane' life. Suddenly I had new friends because I was able to be authentic with people and people liked that! The quality of my life and my daughter's life improved 1000 fold. It was a miracle. And it lasted for almost 6 months.
See the problem is we really are just machines run by our subconscious programming. As soon as something showed up that triggered my old routines all my old feelings came back, the angst, the confusion, and I realized while I had some new 'tools' I didn't have the answer that I was seeking. I went back to Landmark, class after class, I learned to put on that Landmark 'face' that all is well and I am supremely confident and capable, but inside I was still the same old me.
One of the ways I knew something was still very wrong was that at times I still wanted to die. Not like I was going to do anything about it, I just wanted to leave the planet. Again, no dramatics, I didn't call friends crying about my life or sit alone in my home unable to get out of bed, I functioned just fine thank you very much. But I didn't want to be on this fucking stupid planet with all the people who could just go about their lives as though nothing was wrong when we all know everything is wrong. I could engage in that world for awhile but come on, a person has their limits.
So life went. And always there in the background was one positive thing, the concept of hero was there. That hope, that knowing that it's a real thing that exists, in fact the only thing that really matters, wanting that for myself, in myself, and still not knowing how to get there. Sure, get a good education and go get a great job and make lots of money and have 2.3 children and go on vacation twice a year and have a beautiful wife/life/husband. And people will think you have it all. But I always wondered, what is heroic in that?
So how synchronistic that I'm watching the Matrix again and I’m in a conversation about heroes yesterday and I'm reminded of that is what got me through life. And so I spend hours writing today.
Ok, but back to my story. So what happened next? Yes, just machines, subconscious programming, even Landmark will tell you that. I had to change my programming. I went to Don. That's an old boring story, just a bunch of hard mental/emotional work. Not so sexy. Especially those times I sat on his couch and faced the devil. Okay, that's a little sexy, I'll expound. There were maybe 3-4 times when I came face to face with the most screwed up me. It's that place in your psyche where the 'twist' happened that had you become who you are. Its impact for me was like....imagine through a strange series of events you one day realize you were abducted by aliens, how freaky would that be?!! Okay or you've been a schizophrenic your entire life but don't know it and then one day you know it. Okay one more; like in that movie The Notebook, the woman comes out of her Alzheimer's just long enough to know that she has it. But for me it was getting on the most core level of who I am that I had certain 'things' like disassociation, like PTSD, like general huge ‘fuckedupness’ but more getting, all at once, the impact it had on my life. Like if someone could throw a whole movie into your consciousness and all at once you get the impact of every single word and gesture and meaning and nuance and action. It's overwhelming. Those times I sat on his couch literally unable to speak as I saw what had happened to me and how I had lived, what I had done to myself as a result of it. Until his gentle voice suggested I come twice a week for a month or so. One of those 'unable to speak episodes' was realizing I lived my entire life in Crazytown, that is all I knew and the only thing I knew how to choose was 'Crazy'. Really getting that was one of the most liberating things in my entire life because I really did think I must've been crazy to life the life that I had lived. Who would choose the things that I had? To know that was all I knew how to choose started my journey out of Crazytown.
Now is not the time to write about how hard it was. But here is a story of what happened one day. I was walking down the street and it started to show up, the confusion, the angst, the pain. And the most miraculous thing happened. My brain said 'no'. Just 'no'. Just didn't have to go that way. The miraculous thing was that I had a CHOICE. There was no voice of god, no vision of some distant guiding light. I had become integrated, solid, and I had choice. It was just getting out of the Matrix. You can tell I just re-watched the movie ;o) The Matrix is control, a computer generated dreamworld meant to keep us under control. Or your parents own fucked up life fucking up your life. Whatever, it's all the same. Everything is meant to take your choice away - and that's what I felt my whole life...I was so screwed up I truly didn't have choice. One day, choice showed up, and I played inside of 'choice' and then power showed up. And the next thing I knew, my life was forever altered.
There is more I can write about that but not right now. I just want to say what's there now.
What I want for myself is to push past all the limits that I've always had, and that's a tall order. There are four main things: I've had limits around what kind of person I can be, both mentally and physically, what I can do in the world, how much money I can make, and what kind of relationship I can be in. I've set new standards for myself.
Maybe it's just that hero thing that screams to climb its way out of my cells, but I still refuse to live the 'normal' life. To me a hero picks something to stand for and then holds it steadfast in the face of incredible doubt and fear and that's what I've always wanted, to know I'm the kind of person who can actually choose freely and then simply deal with herself around getting it. Oh, and not just to get it, but to get it in an extraordinary way. Ordinary sucks the life out of me.
I felt compelled to write this for a few reasons. The time off work has helped me refocus, fucking jobs have a way of shutting out what's really important. The Matrix and my conversation yesterday reminds me the importance of hero. And lastly, it's just really good to remind myself of the possibility of the future.
Both Landmark and the Matrix are about possibility - in fact the 1st movie ends with something about that's what each human being needs, possibility. Possibility gives you something to live inside of, to guide you. I've always just been driven by 'avoiding' - staving off the bad shit. I don't live in that place anymore. So if I don't live there, and I don't live in 'normal' where does that leave me?
Well, it's actually extraordinary to stand in this new place and feel power around it when just earlier this year I was so lost and confused and sometimes still wishing it would all end. This place is not transient, not the result of a 'good mood' - because I have bad moods and sometimes sad moods and still my foundation is strong. Sometimes I have to deal with myself for a few hours like last night, but I can do it. The thing that's gone is 'crazy'. Life is pretty damn good without crazy.
Where it all leaves me is wanting the feeling of being a hero, of dealing with big things in life, it's almost embarrassing to say. The capeless kind of hero is so unsexy, and clearly I love sexy. I also have a choice to just go on from here and get in a nice relationship and get a better job, you know, the Blue Pill. But I really do believe I'm an extraordinary person and I would rather set a scary goal and do that, like write a book or move away, or hold onto the possibility that I will have the most extraordinary relationship of a lifetime. The kind based on honor and integrity and crazy deep love where you just look at each other with a knowing so deep that this is exactly the person you are supposed to be with and together your world is so complete and strong that inside of that you grow stronger together and separately yet you don't grow apart. And you wake up and feel the love you have for the one who lies next to you in bed with such fierceness you could cry and when it's just too much to take you make love and maybe cry anyway because you're so happy you're capable of so much love and you found someone who loves you the same way. And then you drink coffee and talk about where you would like to live the next six months. Ok, so that's a big fantasy but I call it a possibility and that's where I choose to live. Call me crazy, I don't mind anymore.
There are many people who have no hope today. So you start with gratitude, with what you have. You have car that gets you places, you are so damn lucky. You make more money then most actually doing what you want and you have a HOUSE for god's sake. And you don't have to worry about a sniper or a suicide bomber, you get to carelessly go the store and buy what you want. You are beautiful and strong and have at your disposal REAL help, and real help is hard to find as you know. The next many months I guarantee you not be pretty and you WILL spin for awhile and/or face ugliness that seems unbearable...but it is not. So you get to think about leaving the country and you can even say it as you did but you do not get to do that, you do not get to leave without going through the process that you will not find available to you in another land. You will not be the Neo who took the Blue Pill. You are one of the few who actually has the ability to hold so much precious but more to create yourself how you dream you can be. You are one of the few who can actually live an extraordinary life and find happiness that is not fleeting (as you mistakenly think) but rather has a place in your core that lives like any other cell in your body and is steadfastly there, like it has become for me, even if it takes a couple hours to bring it back sometimes.
So just go through the process and then leave if you want. But there is a Red Pill with your name on it so fucking take it already and get in the rabbit hole and stand for the life that you claim you want - which is different then taking the road out of Dodge. Don't let your job dick you around so that you miss appointments, just do what you need to do and your life will turn out. You know, the actual work that you have to do is SO doable, you're really one of the lucky ones. In probably about 2 months you could stop living the fractured life you feel you're living, if you really worked at it.
I'm really not sure I want to know what you think or that you've even read this, if you do. One way or the other you'll know that I will never stop standing for you to have the life you want whatever it is as long as it’s a real and honest true CHOICE. You're lucky you know, because I'm a powerful woman to have on your side. But I'm on your side because of who you are. So get going.
I think the most dangerous combination is when one has a sensitive soul and a 'knowing' about the justice of things without the ability to discern where one should stand in life. I used to say I grew up invisible but that's not true, invisible means no boundaries but since I'm human I inherently have boundaries. I grew up with little thought given to 'me' by my family. My meaning and care dissolved in a world that revolved around my retarded brother, his seizures, his violence, his pain. My humanity was trampled by my angry and mean father who controlled the universe with his furious and demeaning declarations that everyone was a stupid idiot except him. My heart learned to close by the time I was three or four when it was clear my parents found me more of an annoyance then a lovable being.
So my soul was formed by pain, by incredible sadness that day to day life consisted of not mattering, not knowing what to do or how to do anything save one thing, react in life or death situations. I was calm and competent when I would find my brother lying unconscious in a pool of blood, or when he would go missing for hours because my parents would let him roam the neighborhood and then would send me looking for him; or when the boys next door tortured him by locking him in a big rabbit cage and he almost died because of his asthma and he couldn't breathe; or the time they held his hand under a magnifying glass in the burning sun to watch his skin burn; or the time they forced him to eat snails; or the many trips to the emergency room for stitches and listening to his scream like an animal, or witnessing his weekly tantrums where he would tear his room apart like a man on PCP or grab my mother's fingers and bend them so far back I waited for them to snap; or the time he had a seizure next to our pool and I watched as he floated to the bottom, dying, until I was sure he was on his last second of life and I had no option but to jump in a get him. And always my dad was gone, working, unable to handle the daily traumas that made up my life. These are the things I learned to be calm about. No, I would not panic, I prided myself, and still do, on my ability never to panic, externally at least.
My mind, my subconscious knew only hurt, and sadness, and not being loved and not being someone who mattered in the least. There was no goodness in my home, no hope, no hope of anything. Nothing was ever going to get better because Michael was never going to get better, ever. In the first 12 years of my life when he lived at home it never once got better, things only always got worse. In fact they got so bad my parents finally realized he could no longer live at home with us. But by the time I was 12 the damage was done. There was only one thing that let me know that hope existed in the world, even as a concept, and that one thing was a book. The first book I ever read with a hero. It was the 'Black Stallion'. My soul grabbed onto the hero, Alec, onto the conflict of overcoming extreme adversity, of fighting for your dream to come about only to have something get in the way of it. I lived Alec's plight in every cell of my body, I was Alec, and in my ability to disassociate from my world of pain and enter the world of hero, I found hope. I lived his fight, I lived his fear and his decision to overcome, but most importantly I lived his triumph as if it were my own. I devoured all 10 or so books with the fierceness of a dying man hanging onto life by his fingernails. I was so in his world that I believe my body and mind didn't know that it wasn't actually me. I lived Alec's dream at night when I would go to bed, during the day when I daydreamed too much pain away, on endless weekend days when my dog and I would roam quietly around our neighborhood, looking for an escape route from a dark and dirty world that was my home on Vanowen Street.
The hope of that story lodged itself in my cells and soon I was making up stories the only time I had complete freedom, at night as I lie in bed. Every night was a new story that transformed a quiet girl into an extraordinary hero that set her free from the contraints of pain, of past, of family. Every night I lived that break from reality for much of my life and it alone got me through.
As a child my brain developed with more pain then I was capable of handling and I learned to disassociate, easily. I thank god for my first hero, a little boy who rode a wild black stallion, because it gave me somewhere to go that was good, that was pure, that was happy. That's all I wanted to be was those three things, good, pure, happy, I felt none of those things in my house.
I believed I was badly tainted, at the soul level, the darkness in my home made me feel like I was a bad person. I was angry and I didn't know why. I felt so much pain all the time and I didn't understand why. I can honestly say I lived with frustration almost every second of every day because I knew what I was living with was not mine and I couldn't reconcile why I had it. I had little ability to think clearly - the fog was overwhelming and mind numbing. I was sure I was just stupid, defective, every instance of not understanding was just more evidence of how worthless a human being I was.
It's too much to write here about the life that resulted. The constant betraying of my soul because I didn't know how to honor it, it's substance suspect because it was never able to fully develop, led me in constant battle to want to be 'good' but believing I was inherently 'bad'. But it was the 'knowing' that there was more, that I could be more, but that 'normal' lives that people led did not hold the answer for me - so I would not choose that normalcy as my guide, I would always rather choose the Red Pill. Even though for much of my life it was extreme and out of control, I'm glad I chose Red over Blue.
I lived a life where all I did was react out of what I was left with as a child, post traumatic stress and disassociation. The world was a place where I waited for the next tragedy to happen and I looked for people who would help me deal with the next one, who would somehow 'fix' that missing piece in me that couldn't deal with the world. My partners would fall madly in love with me and then one day I would disassociate when they didn't fix my world and I couldn't remember that I loved them, or why...and then would begin the downward spiral. More humiliating situations then I could ever recall here.
It has been a long and arduous life. And while I ALWAYS felt like there was an answer to my problem it was always just out of my reach, it was there, I could feel it with the faith one believes in their most steadfast truth, but I could never get to it. And finally I accepted it would be forever out of my reach and the best I would be able to do was just try and get as healthy as I could emotionally and then learn to watch myself for bad or unacceptable behavior and 'moderate' myself, like living with a disease you have to take medicine for. I accepted that would be my fate. Pain and angst were simply normal, but I could put a pretty good face on it, for awhile.
Then in 2002 I did the Landmark Forum and for the first time I realized I was normal; everyone was fucked up! It was powerful and I left with a calm I never knew. It changed something cellular about how I saw myself and others. It gave me tools to deal with how I 'be' in the world. Landmark is about learning to create 'possibility' in your life; it's about having what you want. For the first time I actually felt 'normal' - and I started to live a 'sane' life. Suddenly I had new friends because I was able to be authentic with people and people liked that! The quality of my life and my daughter's life improved 1000 fold. It was a miracle. And it lasted for almost 6 months.
See the problem is we really are just machines run by our subconscious programming. As soon as something showed up that triggered my old routines all my old feelings came back, the angst, the confusion, and I realized while I had some new 'tools' I didn't have the answer that I was seeking. I went back to Landmark, class after class, I learned to put on that Landmark 'face' that all is well and I am supremely confident and capable, but inside I was still the same old me.
One of the ways I knew something was still very wrong was that at times I still wanted to die. Not like I was going to do anything about it, I just wanted to leave the planet. Again, no dramatics, I didn't call friends crying about my life or sit alone in my home unable to get out of bed, I functioned just fine thank you very much. But I didn't want to be on this fucking stupid planet with all the people who could just go about their lives as though nothing was wrong when we all know everything is wrong. I could engage in that world for awhile but come on, a person has their limits.
So life went. And always there in the background was one positive thing, the concept of hero was there. That hope, that knowing that it's a real thing that exists, in fact the only thing that really matters, wanting that for myself, in myself, and still not knowing how to get there. Sure, get a good education and go get a great job and make lots of money and have 2.3 children and go on vacation twice a year and have a beautiful wife/life/husband. And people will think you have it all. But I always wondered, what is heroic in that?
So how synchronistic that I'm watching the Matrix again and I’m in a conversation about heroes yesterday and I'm reminded of that is what got me through life. And so I spend hours writing today.
Ok, but back to my story. So what happened next? Yes, just machines, subconscious programming, even Landmark will tell you that. I had to change my programming. I went to Don. That's an old boring story, just a bunch of hard mental/emotional work. Not so sexy. Especially those times I sat on his couch and faced the devil. Okay, that's a little sexy, I'll expound. There were maybe 3-4 times when I came face to face with the most screwed up me. It's that place in your psyche where the 'twist' happened that had you become who you are. Its impact for me was like....imagine through a strange series of events you one day realize you were abducted by aliens, how freaky would that be?!! Okay or you've been a schizophrenic your entire life but don't know it and then one day you know it. Okay one more; like in that movie The Notebook, the woman comes out of her Alzheimer's just long enough to know that she has it. But for me it was getting on the most core level of who I am that I had certain 'things' like disassociation, like PTSD, like general huge ‘fuckedupness’ but more getting, all at once, the impact it had on my life. Like if someone could throw a whole movie into your consciousness and all at once you get the impact of every single word and gesture and meaning and nuance and action. It's overwhelming. Those times I sat on his couch literally unable to speak as I saw what had happened to me and how I had lived, what I had done to myself as a result of it. Until his gentle voice suggested I come twice a week for a month or so. One of those 'unable to speak episodes' was realizing I lived my entire life in Crazytown, that is all I knew and the only thing I knew how to choose was 'Crazy'. Really getting that was one of the most liberating things in my entire life because I really did think I must've been crazy to life the life that I had lived. Who would choose the things that I had? To know that was all I knew how to choose started my journey out of Crazytown.
Now is not the time to write about how hard it was. But here is a story of what happened one day. I was walking down the street and it started to show up, the confusion, the angst, the pain. And the most miraculous thing happened. My brain said 'no'. Just 'no'. Just didn't have to go that way. The miraculous thing was that I had a CHOICE. There was no voice of god, no vision of some distant guiding light. I had become integrated, solid, and I had choice. It was just getting out of the Matrix. You can tell I just re-watched the movie ;o) The Matrix is control, a computer generated dreamworld meant to keep us under control. Or your parents own fucked up life fucking up your life. Whatever, it's all the same. Everything is meant to take your choice away - and that's what I felt my whole life...I was so screwed up I truly didn't have choice. One day, choice showed up, and I played inside of 'choice' and then power showed up. And the next thing I knew, my life was forever altered.
There is more I can write about that but not right now. I just want to say what's there now.
What I want for myself is to push past all the limits that I've always had, and that's a tall order. There are four main things: I've had limits around what kind of person I can be, both mentally and physically, what I can do in the world, how much money I can make, and what kind of relationship I can be in. I've set new standards for myself.
Maybe it's just that hero thing that screams to climb its way out of my cells, but I still refuse to live the 'normal' life. To me a hero picks something to stand for and then holds it steadfast in the face of incredible doubt and fear and that's what I've always wanted, to know I'm the kind of person who can actually choose freely and then simply deal with herself around getting it. Oh, and not just to get it, but to get it in an extraordinary way. Ordinary sucks the life out of me.
I felt compelled to write this for a few reasons. The time off work has helped me refocus, fucking jobs have a way of shutting out what's really important. The Matrix and my conversation yesterday reminds me the importance of hero. And lastly, it's just really good to remind myself of the possibility of the future.
Both Landmark and the Matrix are about possibility - in fact the 1st movie ends with something about that's what each human being needs, possibility. Possibility gives you something to live inside of, to guide you. I've always just been driven by 'avoiding' - staving off the bad shit. I don't live in that place anymore. So if I don't live there, and I don't live in 'normal' where does that leave me?
Well, it's actually extraordinary to stand in this new place and feel power around it when just earlier this year I was so lost and confused and sometimes still wishing it would all end. This place is not transient, not the result of a 'good mood' - because I have bad moods and sometimes sad moods and still my foundation is strong. Sometimes I have to deal with myself for a few hours like last night, but I can do it. The thing that's gone is 'crazy'. Life is pretty damn good without crazy.
Where it all leaves me is wanting the feeling of being a hero, of dealing with big things in life, it's almost embarrassing to say. The capeless kind of hero is so unsexy, and clearly I love sexy. I also have a choice to just go on from here and get in a nice relationship and get a better job, you know, the Blue Pill. But I really do believe I'm an extraordinary person and I would rather set a scary goal and do that, like write a book or move away, or hold onto the possibility that I will have the most extraordinary relationship of a lifetime. The kind based on honor and integrity and crazy deep love where you just look at each other with a knowing so deep that this is exactly the person you are supposed to be with and together your world is so complete and strong that inside of that you grow stronger together and separately yet you don't grow apart. And you wake up and feel the love you have for the one who lies next to you in bed with such fierceness you could cry and when it's just too much to take you make love and maybe cry anyway because you're so happy you're capable of so much love and you found someone who loves you the same way. And then you drink coffee and talk about where you would like to live the next six months. Ok, so that's a big fantasy but I call it a possibility and that's where I choose to live. Call me crazy, I don't mind anymore.
There are many people who have no hope today. So you start with gratitude, with what you have. You have car that gets you places, you are so damn lucky. You make more money then most actually doing what you want and you have a HOUSE for god's sake. And you don't have to worry about a sniper or a suicide bomber, you get to carelessly go the store and buy what you want. You are beautiful and strong and have at your disposal REAL help, and real help is hard to find as you know. The next many months I guarantee you not be pretty and you WILL spin for awhile and/or face ugliness that seems unbearable...but it is not. So you get to think about leaving the country and you can even say it as you did but you do not get to do that, you do not get to leave without going through the process that you will not find available to you in another land. You will not be the Neo who took the Blue Pill. You are one of the few who actually has the ability to hold so much precious but more to create yourself how you dream you can be. You are one of the few who can actually live an extraordinary life and find happiness that is not fleeting (as you mistakenly think) but rather has a place in your core that lives like any other cell in your body and is steadfastly there, like it has become for me, even if it takes a couple hours to bring it back sometimes.
So just go through the process and then leave if you want. But there is a Red Pill with your name on it so fucking take it already and get in the rabbit hole and stand for the life that you claim you want - which is different then taking the road out of Dodge. Don't let your job dick you around so that you miss appointments, just do what you need to do and your life will turn out. You know, the actual work that you have to do is SO doable, you're really one of the lucky ones. In probably about 2 months you could stop living the fractured life you feel you're living, if you really worked at it.
I'm really not sure I want to know what you think or that you've even read this, if you do. One way or the other you'll know that I will never stop standing for you to have the life you want whatever it is as long as it’s a real and honest true CHOICE. You're lucky you know, because I'm a powerful woman to have on your side. But I'm on your side because of who you are. So get going.
Thursday, December 21, 2006
No Plan B
There have been some people, actual close friends of mine, that I've questioned not just their commitment to do 'the work' but their ability, their very basic inner strength, I can't even call it 'character' because it's not that, it's simply a strength they have at the core of who they are to take themselves on and look at the hardest things about themselves. To look at where you have been hoisted by your own petard, for it's one thing to see the unconscionable grievous acts committed by one's one mother or father. Yes, those leave a searing wound in the soul of a young child. But the hardest things about us take on another dimension when we know we've inflicted them on ourselves even if the 'why' of that infliction is not our fault. THAT is where the real fiber of a soul lies, deep in that steely place where to actually look can cause one to either turn away from a fear too paralyzing to consider for even a millisecond, or...maybe we can stand the racing heartbeat and the momentary vile the seeps through our own veins and the horrible consideration that maybe, just maybe, we have made our own hell. It's those who can look, who can be with the thought that maybe they are their own devil and have created their own hell regardless of who led us to the gate, that we walked through that gate and we stand there now in the middle of a world we did not intend and do not want but we created it. It's only those characters I'm interested in, only those heroic and steely yet wobbly souls who have the gift of seeing the darkness and pondering their own, because it's those people who want the best and can truly carry love and vision and light into the only real world that exists - the one they create. Those are the heros of the world regardless if they are a janitor or a physicist or a mother or a doctor or an ex-con. THAT is humanity, to acknowledge what is human in all it's ugliness and to transform it into something beautiful, and to come out of it and be able to love. That is a hero.
If one has to travel that path to become truly whole there is no plan B. When there is only one road to take the hero forges ahead, the others try a more comfortable path.
If one has to travel that path to become truly whole there is no plan B. When there is only one road to take the hero forges ahead, the others try a more comfortable path.
Fog Lifting
It's Thursday and finally I feel better today, more human. Part of it is because I know I get my mask off tomorrow. This has been much harder then I thought. I've said that tho already, more then once I'm sure. I had to bring myself back from a little edge this morning, just a little one. Being alone in a small room for 7 days with plastic wrapped around my face and feeding myself through a straw was beginning to take a toll, I was starting to feel a little 'weak of self' but I'm okay now - just took about a half hour of internal work.
I'm out of my 'religious' fog - ;o) incorporated it, at least as much as I can for now. It's how I process, I open up to it fully, let it bleed into my cells, see what happens, does the result fit with me, resonate, transform me? If it does it's a keeper, if not, it goes. It's a keeper. So something I will continue to explore as my brand new life moves forward.
It's not been fun not seeing my friend and not really having any conversations of any length. I miss him. He's so incredibly busy with his job, it's crazy how far he's had to drive. I feel for how consumed hes had to be with it for over 2 weeks. Things have been difficult for him - F called him yesterday and that's the worst thing for him, it makes things unravel just a bit.
He saw Don today and called me on his way to work. He is the strongest man I know, have ever known. There have been some people that I've questioned not just their commitment to do 'the work' but their ability, their very basic inner strength, I can't even call it 'character' because it's not that, it's simply a strength they have at the core of who they are to take themselves on and look at the hardest things about themselves. To look at where you have been hoisted by your own petard, for it's one thing to see the unconscionable grievous acts committed by one's one mother or father. Yes, those leave a gaping sear in the soul of a young child. But the hardest things about us take on another dimension when we know we've inflicted them on ourselves even if the 'why' of that infliction is not our fault. THAT is where the real fiber of a soul lies, deep in that steely place where to actually look can cause one to either turn away from a fear too scary to consider for even a millisecond or...maybe we can stand the racing heartbeat and the momentary vile the seeps through our own veins and the horrible consideration that maybe, just maybe, we have made our own hell. It's those who can look, who can be with the thought that maybe they are their own devil and have created their own hell regardless of who led us to the gate, that we walked through that gate and we stand there now in the middle of a world we did not intend and do not want but we made it. It's only those characters I'm interested in, only those heroic and steely souls have the gift of seeing the darkness and pondering their own, because it's those people who want the best and can truly carry love and vision and light into the only real world that exists - the one they create. Those are the heros of the world regardless if they are a janitor or a physicist or a mother or a doctor. THAT is humanity, to acknowledge what is human in all it's ugliness and to transform it into something beautiful, and to come out of it and be able to love. That is a hero.
One has to travel that path to become fully human, there is no plan B for that one.
I'm out of my 'religious' fog - ;o) incorporated it, at least as much as I can for now. It's how I process, I open up to it fully, let it bleed into my cells, see what happens, does the result fit with me, resonate, transform me? If it does it's a keeper, if not, it goes. It's a keeper. So something I will continue to explore as my brand new life moves forward.
It's not been fun not seeing my friend and not really having any conversations of any length. I miss him. He's so incredibly busy with his job, it's crazy how far he's had to drive. I feel for how consumed hes had to be with it for over 2 weeks. Things have been difficult for him - F called him yesterday and that's the worst thing for him, it makes things unravel just a bit.
He saw Don today and called me on his way to work. He is the strongest man I know, have ever known. There have been some people that I've questioned not just their commitment to do 'the work' but their ability, their very basic inner strength, I can't even call it 'character' because it's not that, it's simply a strength they have at the core of who they are to take themselves on and look at the hardest things about themselves. To look at where you have been hoisted by your own petard, for it's one thing to see the unconscionable grievous acts committed by one's one mother or father. Yes, those leave a gaping sear in the soul of a young child. But the hardest things about us take on another dimension when we know we've inflicted them on ourselves even if the 'why' of that infliction is not our fault. THAT is where the real fiber of a soul lies, deep in that steely place where to actually look can cause one to either turn away from a fear too scary to consider for even a millisecond or...maybe we can stand the racing heartbeat and the momentary vile the seeps through our own veins and the horrible consideration that maybe, just maybe, we have made our own hell. It's those who can look, who can be with the thought that maybe they are their own devil and have created their own hell regardless of who led us to the gate, that we walked through that gate and we stand there now in the middle of a world we did not intend and do not want but we made it. It's only those characters I'm interested in, only those heroic and steely souls have the gift of seeing the darkness and pondering their own, because it's those people who want the best and can truly carry love and vision and light into the only real world that exists - the one they create. Those are the heros of the world regardless if they are a janitor or a physicist or a mother or a doctor. THAT is humanity, to acknowledge what is human in all it's ugliness and to transform it into something beautiful, and to come out of it and be able to love. That is a hero.
One has to travel that path to become fully human, there is no plan B for that one.
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
"When you hold onto it,
it holds onto you". As soon as he said it I grabbed a pen to write it down. I didn't understand it fully but I just knew, in the solid knowing place I have, that it was something I would need to know. It surpassed profound into some other territory beyond that, a place I didn't even know.
My first instinct was to try and understand it intellectually as I do with most things. The words didn't actually REACH me, or maybe I haven't had the capacity for them to reach me or mayble I just didn't let them. But in any case I realized when he said it I didn't fully understand it but I put it in that place I reserve for subconscious rumination as opposed to casting it aside as I've been known to do.
And today - today I did get it.
I never use the word 'miracle'. For me that word is tied to religion, something that defies explanation in the secular, physical world where clearly understood explanations solve the riddles. Even though I've never been religious something inside of me told me that this word 'miracle' did need to be reserved for something I didn't understand. For me it was a powerful, mystical word and while contradictory to my own beliefs, I held it in reverence, again, a contradiction.
Today a miracle did happen. It happened quietly, with soft footsteps it landed on my soul as I wrapped my face in a scarf to take my daughter to the store. At once I felt it hold onto me, and all at once all parts of me were connected to something vast that was still me but yet something far, far away and much bigger. I'm scared to write about it, to try and describe it, I'm afraid I can't, I won't do it justice. People talk of a 'higher power', of being connected to a higher power. And in the absolute sublime nature of it it just seems it it just as simple as that one thing, a higher power. It is the feeling of it that's hard to give expression to.
I'll admit to being reminded of a particular night over seven years ago when I took mushrooms. The entire trip consisted of simply lying in bed...but what happened was an extraordinary trip into the universe that I'd never glimpsed until today. The experience was me lying there, and every single cell in my body had a string that somehow reached out into every bit of energy that existed in the universe, it was every bit of me being connected to everything that did exist or ever existed in the universe, and each thing that existed carried with it it's own special bit of wisdom that had me know everything. During that trip I felt that I was not just connected but intertwined with every other thing that existed in the universe. Everything was a 'we' and all our power come from the entire universe.
This is the best I can do right now, its exhausting to try and capture it and my face is so irritating I can barely stand it!
But that is the strength I will call on to pull the best from me when I would rather do anything else to pull it from myself.
My first instinct was to try and understand it intellectually as I do with most things. The words didn't actually REACH me, or maybe I haven't had the capacity for them to reach me or mayble I just didn't let them. But in any case I realized when he said it I didn't fully understand it but I put it in that place I reserve for subconscious rumination as opposed to casting it aside as I've been known to do.
And today - today I did get it.
I never use the word 'miracle'. For me that word is tied to religion, something that defies explanation in the secular, physical world where clearly understood explanations solve the riddles. Even though I've never been religious something inside of me told me that this word 'miracle' did need to be reserved for something I didn't understand. For me it was a powerful, mystical word and while contradictory to my own beliefs, I held it in reverence, again, a contradiction.
Today a miracle did happen. It happened quietly, with soft footsteps it landed on my soul as I wrapped my face in a scarf to take my daughter to the store. At once I felt it hold onto me, and all at once all parts of me were connected to something vast that was still me but yet something far, far away and much bigger. I'm scared to write about it, to try and describe it, I'm afraid I can't, I won't do it justice. People talk of a 'higher power', of being connected to a higher power. And in the absolute sublime nature of it it just seems it it just as simple as that one thing, a higher power. It is the feeling of it that's hard to give expression to.
I'll admit to being reminded of a particular night over seven years ago when I took mushrooms. The entire trip consisted of simply lying in bed...but what happened was an extraordinary trip into the universe that I'd never glimpsed until today. The experience was me lying there, and every single cell in my body had a string that somehow reached out into every bit of energy that existed in the universe, it was every bit of me being connected to everything that did exist or ever existed in the universe, and each thing that existed carried with it it's own special bit of wisdom that had me know everything. During that trip I felt that I was not just connected but intertwined with every other thing that existed in the universe. Everything was a 'we' and all our power come from the entire universe.
This is the best I can do right now, its exhausting to try and capture it and my face is so irritating I can barely stand it!
But that is the strength I will call on to pull the best from me when I would rather do anything else to pull it from myself.
Monday, December 18, 2006
Ramblings of a Starving Woman
I was just sitting around minding my own business when god showed me his face and honestly I feel really pissed off about it.
I woke up, sat straight up, and suddenly everything was in focus way too sharp for 7 a.m, there was no residual effect from the painkiller from the night before. It started with a thought innocuous and silly enough…’gee, in a week I’ll look 10 years younger’. That was it.
This year of emotional upheaval and subsequent nine months of excruciating therapy left me spiritually wise yet thankfully with a young soul, fresh and happy and in a place where for me it was a demand that I finally align every part of my life, physically, spiritually, emotionally, romantically, intellectually…it was a no-brainer to get my face done. It was another piece of the path, like meeting you, like realizing it’s time to move on to a much bigger world.
Just another thing to do on my path, one that I choose now with extreme care and concern rather then one I wait to stumble across.
And suddenly I felt the spiritual step out of one world and into another, I felt it, the complete newness; maybe it's what others call ‘born-again’ but I don’t know because I never understood what they meant. And anyway I was sure it was some extreme religious hocus-pocus meant for those who didn’t know how to live their own lives and needed something to connect to in order just to ‘feel better’. Pretty superficial and judgemental huh? But I felt SOMETHING consuming and it was transforming and now all I know is that I’m scared and mad and hopeful and confused.
God damn it why does god have to show me his face right now? It’s too much for me. All day I’m trying not to cry (that must be bad for my face!) and inside I feel on the verge of a panic attack, my second in my life. Maybe it is because, as you said, so much is stripped from me right now. My face is only the beginning. I can’t go out. It’s constantly painful and uncomfortable and I won’t lean on anyone except for the occassional request for a bag of M&M's. I’m now clearly weak from hunger and everything is foggy. This is much harder then I thought. But I know it’s so much more then that. For the first time in my life I do believe I can have everything I want, and see that there are greater things I want than I even knew were possible for me to deserve. I have always wanted something bigger then myself to deal with and I got it. I am in over my head, with all of it, with you too, but that too is my choice. I would rather be in over my head and rise to the occasion then to be comfortable and move delicately forward and patiently wait to catch a slight glimpse of what lies ahead. Never! Just throw me to the wolves (I know them well) and I will forge my way as I always do. Only this time there really are no wolves and no one is throwing me. I’m throwing myself into a frey of my own choosing. Therein, I do believe, is real power; and I do love a good frey.
What is it that keeps making me think of the first time they locked me in that cell? The choices that were mine I could count on one hand. I could go to the bathroom or not. I could close my eyes or not. I could read, if I was lucky enough to get a book, or not. Or I could talk to my cellmate, if she ever woke up from her drugged out, 3-day slumber, or not.
There are so few choices in jail, life is easy in jail, thoughts have little power in jail where they are safely guarded from actually having to find expression; maybe that's why people end up there.
Now choices are showing up for me all over the place and what scares me is it seems there are a lot of them that I could actually have power around where I didn't before.
The kinds of things that scare me now are seeing god or maybe having the relationship of a lifetime or really being the 'best' me...not fears about what a horrible person I am or how I don’t deserve to be on this planet. My own power scares me as I struggle to rein it in until I understand how to use it and somehow put into order all the things I just seem to now know; and I contain myself as I did in jail but for a different reason. It is much scarier to actually have the life you want then to just escape for awhile the one you’re in. With the former you do end up knowing just how big you really are.
So does this look like crazy darkness that will scare you, too much intensity, I doubt that. Or does it look like the ramblings of a soul simply revealing herself while scared for the first time by feeling connected to the universe and feeling powerful in a way she never felt before. I still try and hide the intensity I feel, for most it's too much and I abhore the label 'dramatic' too easily dubbed by those less brilliant, or so I like to think! Sometimes it's just best to keep things to oneself.
Oh yea, and that god thing. He took my best friend Miguel and I can still cry over that, and he gave me a really shitty family and I know these are the emotional responses of a five year old and I know I have to deal with it sooner or later because today it’s giving me anxiety. God will never be for me what he is for others who are religious, but maybe I will let that power be something for me … as my life starts newly.
Or perhaps if I just eat some M&M's I’ll be sane again and all this will go away.
I'll let you know.
I woke up, sat straight up, and suddenly everything was in focus way too sharp for 7 a.m, there was no residual effect from the painkiller from the night before. It started with a thought innocuous and silly enough…’gee, in a week I’ll look 10 years younger’. That was it.
This year of emotional upheaval and subsequent nine months of excruciating therapy left me spiritually wise yet thankfully with a young soul, fresh and happy and in a place where for me it was a demand that I finally align every part of my life, physically, spiritually, emotionally, romantically, intellectually…it was a no-brainer to get my face done. It was another piece of the path, like meeting you, like realizing it’s time to move on to a much bigger world.
Just another thing to do on my path, one that I choose now with extreme care and concern rather then one I wait to stumble across.
And suddenly I felt the spiritual step out of one world and into another, I felt it, the complete newness; maybe it's what others call ‘born-again’ but I don’t know because I never understood what they meant. And anyway I was sure it was some extreme religious hocus-pocus meant for those who didn’t know how to live their own lives and needed something to connect to in order just to ‘feel better’. Pretty superficial and judgemental huh? But I felt SOMETHING consuming and it was transforming and now all I know is that I’m scared and mad and hopeful and confused.
God damn it why does god have to show me his face right now? It’s too much for me. All day I’m trying not to cry (that must be bad for my face!) and inside I feel on the verge of a panic attack, my second in my life. Maybe it is because, as you said, so much is stripped from me right now. My face is only the beginning. I can’t go out. It’s constantly painful and uncomfortable and I won’t lean on anyone except for the occassional request for a bag of M&M's. I’m now clearly weak from hunger and everything is foggy. This is much harder then I thought. But I know it’s so much more then that. For the first time in my life I do believe I can have everything I want, and see that there are greater things I want than I even knew were possible for me to deserve. I have always wanted something bigger then myself to deal with and I got it. I am in over my head, with all of it, with you too, but that too is my choice. I would rather be in over my head and rise to the occasion then to be comfortable and move delicately forward and patiently wait to catch a slight glimpse of what lies ahead. Never! Just throw me to the wolves (I know them well) and I will forge my way as I always do. Only this time there really are no wolves and no one is throwing me. I’m throwing myself into a frey of my own choosing. Therein, I do believe, is real power; and I do love a good frey.
What is it that keeps making me think of the first time they locked me in that cell? The choices that were mine I could count on one hand. I could go to the bathroom or not. I could close my eyes or not. I could read, if I was lucky enough to get a book, or not. Or I could talk to my cellmate, if she ever woke up from her drugged out, 3-day slumber, or not.
There are so few choices in jail, life is easy in jail, thoughts have little power in jail where they are safely guarded from actually having to find expression; maybe that's why people end up there.
Now choices are showing up for me all over the place and what scares me is it seems there are a lot of them that I could actually have power around where I didn't before.
The kinds of things that scare me now are seeing god or maybe having the relationship of a lifetime or really being the 'best' me...not fears about what a horrible person I am or how I don’t deserve to be on this planet. My own power scares me as I struggle to rein it in until I understand how to use it and somehow put into order all the things I just seem to now know; and I contain myself as I did in jail but for a different reason. It is much scarier to actually have the life you want then to just escape for awhile the one you’re in. With the former you do end up knowing just how big you really are.
So does this look like crazy darkness that will scare you, too much intensity, I doubt that. Or does it look like the ramblings of a soul simply revealing herself while scared for the first time by feeling connected to the universe and feeling powerful in a way she never felt before. I still try and hide the intensity I feel, for most it's too much and I abhore the label 'dramatic' too easily dubbed by those less brilliant, or so I like to think! Sometimes it's just best to keep things to oneself.
Oh yea, and that god thing. He took my best friend Miguel and I can still cry over that, and he gave me a really shitty family and I know these are the emotional responses of a five year old and I know I have to deal with it sooner or later because today it’s giving me anxiety. God will never be for me what he is for others who are religious, but maybe I will let that power be something for me … as my life starts newly.
Or perhaps if I just eat some M&M's I’ll be sane again and all this will go away.
I'll let you know.
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