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Post by James on Oct 9, 2013 21:15:19 GMT 10
In this thread I’m posting some of my healing experiences with explanations of how I do my healing using what I call the three main feeling-healing principles: accepting, expressing and longing for the truth of the feeling. And mostly it’s our bad feelings we need to concentrate on, however one might also need to apply the principles to good feelings if one was made to deny them as well as bad feelings.
Email about DLS
Recently I received an email from W... telling me how much he liked my DLS site. How it rang true for him, and how he is looking to his bad feelings to uncover the truth of himself. The praise made me feel good, I felt thrilled and very pleased that someone was ‘getting it’, was understanding what I had written and was benefiting from it. And as W’s... email had a great impact on me, so I needed to express all I felt to Marion.
Part of my problem is I was made to fear feeling good, so good feelings, being of course extremely welcome are also often fraught, and quickly turning into bad feelings - or, quickly bad feelings follow the good ones.
I accepted that I felt good, very good about what W... said, and started to tell Marion why I felt so good, all the bits that made me feel very pleased. But then, no sooner had I said it all whilst enjoying feeling good, I could detect, as if creeping up on me - and then when I focused on it, coming AT ME - a feeling of being scared. It was a familiar bad feeling. Why am I now feeling threatened and bad - scared of feeling good? So having accepted I felt bad, and not dismissing it trying to hang onto the good feelings, I let it be, I felt it fully and started speaking about - all I was now feeling, and all feeling scared made me feel.
‘Now I feel scared... yes, really scared, shit it’s coming up in me, overwhelming me, scared, I feel really scared, and fuck it, I don’t want to feel scared, I want to feel good. Shit I’ve only just felt good for a few moments, and now I’m starting to feel bad, it’s not fair, why does this happen to me? I want to know!’ And so here I longed for the truth, this being what we need to do: long for the truth of why we are feeling bad (or good). And I put all my intent, all my longing, all my desire into wanting to know - ‘Fuck it! I’m sick of this, I really want to know why every time I feel good, wham, I feel bad.’ It helps to voice all of your longing out loud, although you don’t have to saying it instead in your mind - yet always doing what your feelings are making you feel to do. But the more you can speak out loud the better. We have stopped ourselves from expressing ourselves, by stopping ourselves expressing certain feelings, and so the more we can reverse this and speak about it all - all we’re feeling, the better.
So having longed for the truth of my fear, and now being further on in my healing and without so many blocks preventing the truth from coming up in me, as soon as I started to long, up came the truth. Suddenly mums face and body was coming at me, as if looming at me out of the ether and I felt very scared. Then I knew. ‘I see it! It’s, of course, mum again. She did it to me, she would make me feel good, then quickly turn on me, yelling at me, scaring me... I feel terrified, and I hate this. I dread feeling good, I can see that, because no sooner do I and wham she’s into me and I feel so bad, so unloved, pushed away, rejected - she hates me. She plays this power game with me, sucking me in making me believe she loves me... she even tells me she loves me and that I love her and it’s all so nice being together... and then, no sooner has she said that, and she’s hating me, yelling and screaming and pushing and pulling me... and then, as soon as she’s had the tantrum setting me off into one, then she switches it all around and she’s nice, it’s all over, and it’s back to nice mummy, the monster mummy having gone away again.’
I keep saying all I see and all it makes me feel. Huge amounts of anger come up as this pattern of behaviour in my relationship with her stands out to me, my understanding of it growing, adding onto the last time I saw it. And so now I understand a little more of why I am scared of feeling good, seeing it all through my life, even to the point of not allowing myself to feel good, to do things to thwart it, all because, as I now know, the monster scary mummy will turn on me. And there is nothing worse than feeling that your whole existence is suddenly threatened, you feel so bad, and when it’s your own parent... there is no where to go, screaming and crying aren’t enough, your life is threatened, you feel you’re facing death, oblivion, standing on the edge of the cliff about to be pushed over; it’s too much, too much for a little person to deal with, and yet in my case, many times a day mum would ‘play the game’. She’d build me up, only to scare me to death, completely unaware she is doing it. And I see it all the time, the same patterns of behaviour between parents and children, and every time I see it, it scares the hell out of me, and then I feel so angry wanting to smash the parent, and now I know more about why. It all pushing my inner buttons.
So I am grateful to W... for providing me with yet another intense feeling experience that I had; feeling so good, so I could then feel so scared, all so I could further understand my relationship with my mother.
And this is what’s it’s all about - our healing. Uncovering the hidden truth of ourselves through our feelings. By allowing ourselves to feel what we feel now as adults, then by accepting such feelings, and expressing them with the intention of uncovering the truth of why we’re feeling them, we will naturally be led back to reconnect with the same feelings we felt in our early life, and seeing why we felt them.
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Post by James on Oct 9, 2013 21:19:49 GMT 10
Buying a new car
We’ve decided to buy a new car. Our current one is old and starting to cost us too much money to repair. We’ve thought about getting a second hand car, but anything that is half decent is half the price of the new one; the new one is at a good discount on a special price. It’s a european car. It might last us twenty years, and hopefully we won’t need another car after that as we might be dead by then. Our current car we’ve had for seventeen. I don’t want a car, but where we live it’s too hard without one.
I feel scared, overwhelmed with fear this morning. Why am I feel so scared - I long for the truth. I express my fear to Marion, saying all I feel with all the emotion of my feeling scared.
‘I’m so scared that when we’ve got the new car something bad will happen... bad, something very bad... I don’t know what... bad, like out there, something outside will happen and I’m so scared of it. Someone will come and take it - steal it. It’s all so new and a European car, and thieves want those cars, not the crappy ones like our car. That’s what everyone used to say when I was growing up, if you have a BMW or Mercedes someone will steal it. Or they will come and scratch it, damage it somehow, to stick it up the wealthy. We’re not wealthy, but with the price it’s at we can afford it, but I’m so scared someone will come and wreck it... scared, so fucking scared, shit I feel like I’m shitting myself with fear, as if I’m lying in bed and it’s dark and I can hear someone at the car outside in the driveway - what are they doing, are they going to steal it, or scratch it... scared, so scared, I’m so scared.’
I’m sweating with panic, I can hardly speak, the fear is coming up in me, it’s consuming me, I hate it, I hate feeling scared the worst of all, and I feel so scared so much of the time. I long again for the truth - why am I so scared. I ask the Mother and Father to please help me see the truth though my feelings why I’m feeling so scared.
I start saying to Marion how scared I feel again.
‘I feel so scared, scared out of my wits, and now angry, angry that I’m so scared.’ She asks me, ‘Who are you so scared of?’
Instantly I know - who else could it be. I feel myself back with her when I was young. ‘Mum, I’m so scared of her... she used to take everything, I’d want to play with it, but no, “stop it, you’re making too much noise, I’ve told you, you can’t have it, had you listened to what I said you could still have it, you have to learn, you can’t have everything when you want it.” She took my things away. She gave them to me then took them away. She stole them from me! She said, here have this, then would take it away. She’d take things and I’d ask where it was and she’d say “it’s gone, the man took it, he took it away because you don’t need it anymore”. Some strange man came and took my toy away. Now he’s going to come and take my new car away.’
But of course there was no strange man, it was mum, she was the strange man, she was the thief, she made me feel so scared. And still at 52 I am shitting myself that some strange man is going to come and take my new car away. ‘Scared, I’m so scared, scared, he’s going to come, he is, I just know it, because it’s such a nice new car, and I’m so powerless to stop him. I was so powerless to stop her. I will come home and it will be gone, just like my toy was gone. I will wake up in the morning and it will be gone. I never want new things, this car is a big step for me. I never want anything much, because there’s no point in my getting it. It’s going to be taken, or wrecked, I can’t have it, life is not for me. She didn’t let me have a life, a new life of my own, only a life of fear - and fear of her, not fear of some strange man, this I’m slowly realising. I hate her. I’m now so angry with her for treating me that way, so uncaring, so unloving, all because she didn’t like that noise or whatever it was at that moment. And she thought nothing of filling me with fear, and so much that I’ve been so unable to do anything in my life. More anger to express to Marion. I’ve seen a little bit more truth about my relationship with mum; truth about myself - why I am feeling so scared.
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Post by James on Nov 25, 2013 21:41:29 GMT 10
She’s so interfering!
Marion coughs disturbing our conversation. It’s one of her wracking coughs, she ties to let them come and not fight them, but not cough either, just allowing their energy to come up through her. The coughing hurts her throat and lungs. I feel angry, annoyed, not at her, but at the fact that our relationship, our conversation, has been interfered with - again. Over and over something interferes with us. This morning we can’t just get on having a good conversation being free to go this way and that expressing all we feel. I tell her how angry I’m feeling once she’s recovered. I say I’m not angry with you, you can’t help having those coughs, but I’m angry with our being interfered with. I express my feelings with the emotion of the anger I am feeling, and whilst I’m doing this, I’m also longing for the truth of why I feel so angry. I’m asking God to please help me see the truth of what’s really going on - why am I really angry. And before I’ve even finished saying I was angry, and how really fucking, furiously, raging angry I feel at our being interrupted, I see it’s mum, and I’m wanting to speak with my brother or sister who is represented by Marion, and mum is crashing in on us again. And I want to tell her to fuck off, to butt out of it, to leave us alone, and to stop always interfering and ruining what I’m doing with everyone. And I express this all to Marion with all the anger I’m feeling as if I am talking to mum. And the more I said the angrier I felt, and shit I felt angry, so fucking angry, all through me - raging anger. And then I could feel mum’s interference, it was so disturbing, and she was always doing it: ‘I’m bored, tell me something’. She had no regard for me, and hated feeling left out, always having to intrude. And then my feelings moved to feel on the deepest level in me, the will level, a level I get too when I’m pushed the hardest or feel the angriest; and I felt like I was a toddler screaming with rage, with each of the intrusions of her will smashing into and stopping my will. And even though she never hit me, I felt on my will she was laying into me, smashing me to pieces, taking me right to the edge of annihilation; crushing my will out of existence. I felt inwardly black and blue all over.
Our family didn’t express such interference violently, but nevertheless, through my healing I’ve been able to feel on the level of will and deep within me how their treatment of me affected my spirit, they may not have been physically throwing me against the wall and punching the shit out of me, but they’ve as good as done it on my will level.
And it’s the damage to our will that is the most traumatic.
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Post by James on Jan 27, 2014 10:52:24 GMT 10
This is the only true way to spiritually grow and evolve your soul.
All other so-called ways are only mind expansion.
We evolve our soul by uncovering the truth of ourselves, nature and God through our feelings. Not with our mind.
This is a Feeling-Healing example: how I use my bad feelings to uncover the truth of myself. It is true Self-Healing; self-therapy.
A family has arrived next door for the holidays. And so it starts.
The baby cries on and off all day and half the night. The three young boys fight and are crying on and off all day. The young puppy left outside all night cries on and off, and through the day when: ‘You have to stay at home, you can’t come with us!’
Interspersed with the crying are the laughs, the running and chasing, the thumping in the house. It’s only been two days... it’s going to be yet another long week until hopefully they’ll go. School starts next week.
I’m writing, and youngest boy is crying. His wailing goes up and down with intensity, I try to block it out. Then the bad feelings in me get too strong, interfering with my concentration. Time to start work on myself: Why is his crying affecting me so much; why it making me feel bad?
As I accept that I am feeling bad, no longer wanting to try and block out his crying to stop myself from feeling bad, I put the computer to sleep and start to express my bad feelings to Marion.
‘Ah!, I’m sick of it, I can’t stand it, his crying is driving me mad!’ I am also asking myself: How am I feeling? How does his crying really make me feel? ‘I feel so scared - his crying not stopping, and I feel so anxious. All tense in my chest, I’m dreading something worse is about to happen... scared... I feel so scared... so anxious, I’m shitting myself... what, why; why am I so scared?’
I long for truth, this being very important: I want to know why I’m feeling so scared and anxious, what really is it; which means, what went on during my early life in my family that made me feel the same way I’m now feeling, that which this young boy’s crying is triggering in me. Having longed, I keep expressing myself with all the scared emotion I feel to Marion. Waiting to see where my bad feelings take me.
‘I feel so anxious, so sacred, so sacred, really scared, like some really bad - the worst thing possible - is going to happen to me... I’m waiting... yes, waiting for something, the bad thing to happen. When I listen to him crying, oh I feel so nervous, I expect to hear his mother scream at him to SHUT UP! STOP THAT CRYING! Yes, that’s what I’m so scared of, that his mother, that my mother, will yell at me to stop crying, as I am the boy. ‘I’m so scared of her, her raging at me, screaming at me: “Well go on then, leave, see if I care, go on, it would be good to be rid of you, then I can get some peace... go on LEAVE!”’
I feel like I’m about five. And I can’t leave. She has all power over me, she just yells and yells at me and I feel so scared. Where could I go; and I don’t want to go, I don’t want to be rejected by her. I want her to love me, to want me, not to push me away. I’m feeling so bad, and yet she only makes me feel worse.
The truth is coming to me now, this is what my bad feelings wanted me to see, what they have helped me uncover about myself: more about the truth of my unloving relationship with my mother.
I continue speaking with Marion about it all, as more comes to light. I can feel my fear and anxiety easing as the truth comes up showing me this is what it’s really all about. The boy next door has also stopped crying. I am no longer angry with the neighbours, understanding that it’s all within me from my early life that they are stirring up.
I now have new bad feelings coming up in me to express and uncover the truth of: How does seeing my mother in this way not loving me, make me feel? More to speak with Marion about...
And on it goes until I no longer feel bad, this being an example of how I’m using my bad feelings by accepting, expressing and seeking their truth to uncover what I am all about, all on a feeling level. This being my spiritual growth. I have grown more in the truth of myself. This being how I’m ending my minds control over my feelings. This being how I’m becoming true to myself - true to my feelings: my true self.
I am grateful for the little boy for crying, as I’ve been able to discover more about myself. Yet I still wish they’d leave... more bad feelings to express and seek the truth of.
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Post by James on Feb 2, 2014 13:22:17 GMT 10
I’m scared of posting
“What if my writing isn’t good enough; I’m scared people will laugh at me, they’ll say I’m stupid because I can’t write well.”
It’s a fear I have, it comes up often, I express my bad feelings to Marion - again. Countless times have I felt bad about this and anything to do with ‘putting myself out there’.
And it doesn’t take long after so many years of working on myself for the truth to come - this time with a slightly different slant.
“You can’t write that, you can’t say it like that, if you’re going to write you have to make it be so the other person can read it. Here, give it to me, let me do it for you...” And so she did, always taking it out of my hands, always saying I wasn’t good enough how I was, and always implying that I was stupid and people would laugh at me accusing me of being stupid, and she wasn’t like that. That she was good and superior and knew how to do it. That she was all that mattered and I didn’t. And it didn’t matter that I was only young and was still trying to work things out for myself based on my own efforts and feedback I got.
But no, I wasn’t to have a loving supporting relationship with my mother. It was a constant power struggle with herself always winning and my losing, annihilating any self-esteem I had.
But as the years passed, I fabricated, also with her help, a false front, and one of ‘good’ self-esteem. That there was nothing wrong with me, that I could do anything, and anything I did was perfect - I was after all, her ‘perfect son’. No way could it have been otherwise. People were not going to look badly at her by looking unfavourably at her son.
And yet today through my healing as I’ve expressed yet more fear, I am feeling and realising that in fact I was not the stupid one, but she was, and she was afraid that if she let me have my childish ways people would come down upon her accusing her of being a bad and stupid and unloving mother because she couldn’t even make her child write correctly. And could she write correctly? - her scrawl I now realise, that which was always so difficult to understand, was done unconsciously on purpose, all as a smoke screen to disguise her fears of being called stupid. All so no one can pin her down and say how stupid she is.
Marion says that she was always told she was stupid by her parents, and through her healing she’s had to heal all that trauma out of herself because it wasn’t true. She says that I being made to believe I was superior and not stupid, have to give all that rubbish up through my healing, being able to fully accept that I am stupid, dumb - a moron. We’re always coming at it from the opposite ends. But I ask God, why Mother and Father do I have to admit I’m the stupid one, why couldn’t I have been the smart one like Marion and just told I was stupid. Why couldn’t it have been the other way around - it’s so humiliating being constantly shown up for the stupid arse you make of yourself.
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Post by James on Feb 22, 2014 19:43:17 GMT 10
I feel miserable
Just another day doing my Feeling-Healing. Allowing myself to feel as bad as I feel. Then speaking about it all to Marion, expressing all my yuk with all the pain and emotion of the bad feelings. And I long for the truth of them, I want to know why I feel this way. I long to myself: to my soul to show me the truth of myself through these bad feelings; and I long to God to help me see the truth of myself through my bad feelings. And I keep going, as hard as it is, and as wretched as I feel, I keep trying to express it all until I no longer feel bad. And that can take a long time. But when the truth does come then the pain and bad feelings go, then I know I’ve healed a little more of Childhood Repression. I’ve grown a little more in the truth of myself.
I feel miserable I feel miserable, so miserable, I feel so miserable, miserable, miserable, so bad, I feel really bad, so miserable about my rotten life, what a shit life it’s been, what a shit life it still is. I feel so wretchedly miserable, like I’ve been crushed, forced down and back in on myself, so down; I am nothing, I have nothing, nothing good happens for me; bad, I feel really bad, so bad, so miserable and so bad. I hate myself, I hate how I am, I had how I feel so bad all the time; I feel so miserable that I feel so bad, so bad so bloody bad, and all the time. I’m so fed up with feeling so bad, I can’t bear it anymore, I wish I would just die, I wish I could kill myself, I can’t stand being alive, I can’t stand being myself. I hate myself, I hate how I am, I hate how I do things, I hate what I say, I can’t bear how I look, I look so ugly, like a monster that no one can stand the sight of, a horrible ugly monster, and I want to die. I wish I could carve myself up into a million pieces and disappear. I wish God would just make me stop being alive, make me stop existing so I didn’t have to feel bad anymore. I feel so yuk, I hate myself, I hate everything and I hate God. I hate you God for making me suffer so much, for giving me so much pain, my shit body that’s always wracked with pain - I don’t want to suffer, I don’t want the pain anymore, please take it away, please help me to see the truth of it all. I don’t want to go on, I hate feeling unloved, I hate feeling so rejected and so unwanted by everyone. I wish someone would come and love me, make me feel all good, and happy and loved. I don’t want to feel so unloved anymore. I’ve always felt unloved and I feel so miserable about feeling so unloved. I wish it would end, I wish I would end, I don’t want to keep going any longer; and really, what’s the point - what’s the point of my existence. I don’t do anything, I just sit and feel miserable all day, I don’t feel good and happy. And people who feel unhappy and unloved all the time, and are depressed, shouldn’t exist, because no one wants them, no one wants to know about them... and what can they do anyway. They can’t just come along and love me back to feeling loved. So all I can do is rot, rot away in my misery, just stink feeling so unhappy, so unloved, so miserable. I’m miserable, I feel so miserable, I hate feeling this way, I feel so, so miserable, like I’m being crushed by it, weighted down by my misery. I feel so unhappy, so despairing, so unloved - miserable. I am misery. Nothing but misery - useless bloody misery. What a waste of space, what a waste of a life. I am miserable. I long for the truth of my misery.
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Post by James on Mar 3, 2014 11:13:31 GMT 10
Speak; don’t speak... and autism
Everything is all right all so long as I am acting physically well. It doesn’t matter how well I am on an emotional level. As soon as I am quiet too long ‘Are you all right, say something’, I say something, so thankfully I am all right. I want to say more, now that she’s asked me to speak to her. I keep speaking, ‘Oh don’t bother me now, I’m too busy (she has to make more phone calls), go over there and play with your toys.’ I’m rejected again and I can’t protest, that only makes her more angry with me. I go over and start playing with my toys again. She finishes her calls - suddenly she thinks of me again, feeling guilty that she’s not been paying attention to me, something bad might have happen to me since she’s ‘been away’. Quickly she needs to know if I’m all right. ‘Are you all right, say something...’ And around we go again.
She never just leaves me free to get on with myself - my own life and how I naturally want to express myself. She is always interfering and controlling me. I am demented, I don’t know when to speak, why I should speak, and even if I should speak at all. I am in perpetual fear: if I don’t speak she gets angry; if I do speak she gets angry. I feel guilty if I don’t speak after a certain amount of time because I’m upsetting her, I start to feel anxious and nervous - she’s going to yell at me any moment. And there is no way out, I’m stuffed either way.
It’s taken me sixteen years of continually working on myself to connect with this, to see the truth of it through my feelings, to remember how it was, and so how it’s shaped my whole life and all my relationships; to so see why one of my most basic functions doesn’t work naturally.
Marion’s reading another book about a boy with autism. She’s envious of the little boy because he gets far more loving attention that she ever got. His parents give everything they have to make him feel wanted and loved, unlike her parents who never gave anything of themselves, never making her feel loved and wanted.
When it comes do the fact that you’d rather have been born with autism so as to feel loved, it sure is a sad indictment against those who should have loved you.
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Post by James on Mar 11, 2014 20:45:32 GMT 10
Who is James?
My healing is one long identity crisis - one long mental breakdown.
Mum said dad only wanted a daughter. And it probably would have suited mum to have a girl so she could play dollies with it - she did make and sell children’s clothes after she had the three of us. Marion suggested Harriet might be a nice name for me - she’s always so helpful and willing to go along with my pain.
I said to Marion that really no one wanted James, and today I’ve been able to sense through my bad feelings that I wish I could have put someone else in my place, someone they would have liked - John or Martin or Phillip perhaps, someone who could have taken over my body, been all they wanted in the son they had to accept they had, all so I could get out of there - go off fishing or something, be as far away from them as I could be.
So in a way I went off anyway, I just float around consumed in my thoughts. I don’t connect when I speak to Marion, I just talk away as if I’m talking to myself... or to John or Martin or... And it doesn’t matter that she doesn’t listen because she isn’t really there anyway as I’m not there myself. I’m walking along the riverbank trying to see the trout in the reeds.
I feel so deranged in my mind. I don’t know where I am, what I am, let alone who I am. They never connected properly with me, so I don’t connect properly with anyone else, nor even with myself. So I’m just a compilation of their fantasies, and god knows who they were relating to when they did interact with me. Because whomever it was, it sure wasn’t me.
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Post by James on Mar 15, 2014 18:27:14 GMT 10
Mr and Mrs Right - who are really Mr and Mrs Wrong.
I just realised through talking about my lasted bad feelings to Marion, that in fact the ‘type’ of woman I am meant to be with, is in fact, the fantasy woman my mother believes she is. She has no idea as to how she treated me and what shit she put me through; and really I think she still believes, even at the age of seventy, that she is just on the threshold of her romantic life, that rich Mr Right is just around the corner soon to sweep into her life and carry her off to the high life in Paris and London. And without a care in the world, and certainly without having to deal with crying babies and dirty nappies, she can be the one she’s always dreamed of being. And in a bizarre way, I am even supposed to be that Mr. Right. Yuk! And she is meant to be my Mrs Right. Scream! Ah the Horror ones healing reveals about oneself!
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Post by James on Apr 9, 2014 20:03:06 GMT 10
Why doesn’t she want me What’s wrong with me Don’t touch that You’re not allowed to touch that Don’t touch mummy’s things Hurt Scared Rejected Why doesn’t she love me What’s wrong with me I didn’t do anything wrong She doesn’t want me I am so alone Bad feelings Too many bad feelings Crying I don’t understand Doesn’t she like me She doesn’t want me She doesn’t make me feel good I’m not allowed to do anything I’m not allowed to touch anything Nothing is for me What can I do I can’t do anything If I touch anything she gets angry with me I don’t like her being angry with me She scares me I don’t know what to do when I feel scared I cry I get angry She yells at me more I feel more scared I cry more She gets angrier I cry even more Unwanted Unloved That’s how I feel
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Post by James on May 5, 2014 14:07:35 GMT 10
Broken; Crushed. Feeling good about feeling bad.
Every morning I wake up feeling crushed. I drag myself out of bed and onto the couch feeling so dreadful, sore in just about every part of my body, miserable, and so unhappy. As the day wears on I sort of recover, being able to put the last of my falseness on so I can pretend that I’m not as bad as I really am; but still deeper within me, just under the surface, I feel crushed. Marion was saying this morning that I should feel good that I feel so crushed, because I’m being truer to how I really do feel - truer to how I am. And that I am crushed, beaten down by my parents and my life with them, that everyday being with them right from conception was a crushing experience for me. And that they have broken me, broken my will, stopped me being how I wanted to be, stopped me doing what I wanted to do, and making me be how they said I had to be. Which was not feeling bad: you’re all right, you’re not feeling bad, there’s nothing wrong with you, you’re good, you’re even better than most, you’re terrific, all taking me further away from how I really am, how I really feel - crushed: unwanted, uncared about, unloved, miserable and very unhappy. All my life I’ve felt so crushed, yet I’ve covered over such feelings using my mind to say I’m the opposite. But through my healing I’ve had to stop lying to myself, I’ve had to stop doing what they say and believing what they’ve told me I am. And of course they couldn’t allow me to express and stay true to feeling so bad - so crushed, because then they’d have to face the truth they were causing me to feel this way. And they couldn’t admit to that truth because then their whole house of cards would come crashing down and they’d have to face the unloving truth of themselves, and deal with all their own lies about themselves and their relationships with their parents. And no way were they prepared to face the truth of their own bullshit false existences. So I try to moan and groan with my bad feelings, allowing myself to feel as bad as I do, and saying yes, this is how I feel, it’s right, as I don’t feel loved, they didn’t love me, and I don’t feel happy because I couldn’t be happy with them. And I feel so powerless, because they never allowed me to feel any power. And so instead of being angry with feeling so bad yet again this morning, rejecting myself and my bad feelings, I can instead be more loving of myself by accepting myself that it’s good that I do feel bad, my feelings and body showing me more of the truth of myself. That I can get to know myself better, and see that this is me, it was how I felt during all my childhood underneath all my falseness. And now I no longer have to play their game and lie to myself. Now I can just be true to my feelings of feeling broken and crushed. All because I do feel broken and crushed, it’s the truth, not a lie.
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Post by James on May 29, 2014 21:34:04 GMT 10
Just an everyday mornings worth of feeling bad... Oh life is grand!
I can’t do it, I can’t do it, still after all these years, I can’t do it. Marion says something that makes me feel bad. But instead of saying I feel bad... I just automatically block out the feelings. I move on, I don’t want to know about it. I just erase my present feeling-bad reality replacing it with a whole different picture, that of myself feeling okay. And the process is instant, I’m not even aware I am doing it, not until she pulls me up and says you’re not right, that reaction wasn’t right, what’s wrong - are you feeling bad. And I am so angry that I still can’t just stay tuned to myself, to what I feel. And as soon as I feel bad, speak up. I can now stay with a lot of my bad feelings, ones that mostly come up inside myself of their own accord, but not the ones that come about from her saying things that I misinterpret as her insinuating I’m stupid. If I feel she is rejecting me I can’t do it, and I feel so miserable about not being able to.
I get so angry when she doesn’t do it how I think it should be done. When I can’t give her my approval. If she asks me and says I’d like this... do we have enough money at the moment... do you think this would be good... let’s... and I think it would be good, or we do have the money, or I feel like I’d like to do it, fine, I say yes giving my approval: you can do or have that. But when she takes matters into her own hands without considering me - without asking for my consent and approval, I feel so angry, and hurt that she hasn’t consulted and included me. And yet I’m also the first person to get angry at feeling like everything I do and want has to be approved by her. I just want to do it, and be free to do as I please, not always having to ask if it’s all right with her. So it’s all my way, and she must comply or else. I must have the control, and she’s not allowed to have any. I am to always be free to do as please, but she’s not allowed to.
I feel so miserable, so so excruciatingly miserable. I can’t move because of it, I feel crushed by it, it’s such a heavy weight bearing down on me, and all because it’s all going against me, I can’t be in control, I can’t be how I want to be. And my body is full of so much pain. Every muscle hurts when I bend or reach or move other than walking and standing up straight or sitting slouched in the couch. I used to have days feeling miserable with the physical pain not so bad, then days of feeling such physical pain and no misery, but today the two have merged together, they are the same, my physical pain is my misery as is my misery my physical pain, and both are caused because of feeling so unloved by my parents.
I don’t want to exist, I want it to all end, I feel so bad all the time, I hate my life, I hate how I am, I hate myself, I hate everyone, I hate everything. Nothing ever makes me feel good, I only ever feel bad; I feel so bad, so unhappy, so unloved, and so miserable about it all. And I can’t do anything to help myself, I can’t change myself, and God won’t take the pain away; so what’s the point, I don’t get anything out of life, I hate how we abuse nature, I hate how we ruin everything, I hate how we don’t care, I hate how we treat children, I hate it all. I feel so bad, so bad, and so powerless, so useless, and fed up with feeling so bad all the time. I wish I could bring all my pain out so I could see the truth of it all. I do wish it would end, or I would end. I don’t want to be here anymore.
As of the last two days, every time I feel bad I am saying to myself - this just happening within me: This is how I felt at home when I was young. And underneath all by false good feelings, this is how I’ve always felt - nothing has changed. This is how my parents made me feel. I feel back there with them, true to the awful feelings they made me feel. I can see how it all happened - I can feel it.
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Post by James on Jun 9, 2014 20:38:23 GMT 10
It’s been and insightful day.
Marion decided that really she is like a three year old and I’m four - which is about how I feel most of the time. She is asserting her will confidently, speaking up for what she wants, but that’s about it, she never went any further in life. I being four believe that I know what I’m talking about, and that everyone should listen to me and do as I say, although my problem is, something screwed up along the way and I’ve never been able to get anyone to do anything I want - not even the three year old I live with. I can’t even ask her to do anything for me. And being three and four, gee it’s helping us so much, making it much easier to relate to each other and explaining so much of our behaviour.
It’s been a dull winters day, although not too cold. Yesterday the sun was out but the beach had too many people on it - it being a public holiday weekend. Today I’ve felt miserable on and off, and in speaking about my miserable feelings again in the afternoon, I suddenly said: I’m not allowed to go out today, so I can’t go to the beach. Marion said, why aren’t you allowed? And then I remembered all those times during my early life when I wasn’t allowed to go out: it was too cold, it might rain, you’ll get your clothes dirty, there’s not enough time, dinner will be ready soon; and the big one: if you go out then your brother will want to go out, and I don’t want him... So I’ve had to put myself aside for him, again. I can’t do what I want.
So I went out for a walk. At fifty-three it was high time I said no to mum and pleased myself. The beach was sheltered from the wind, it was delightful, most of the people had left the Island. There was however one older couple with two dogs coming my way, and I recognised the dogs - and they recognised me. I’d not formally met our new neighbours and so now here they were, we introduced ourselves. Then we went our separate ways. Around in the cove it was glorious, just me and a couple of seagulls, the water grey, flat and crystal clear and pregnant with expectation. Back at home telling Marion about my encounter with our neighbours I realised that when I meet new people - when I’m with any person - really I don’t know what to say or how to be. I have to make a big effort, being sociable not coming naturally, although I’ve believed the opposite about myself all these years. Marion said, when you’re with other people you’re still back with your parents, and did you know what to say to them, did you and they speak easily to each other and about anything and everything?
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Post by James on Jun 12, 2014 18:02:13 GMT 10
Marion's dying… to be born anew
Marion feels like she’s going back to where she should have died with pleuropneumonia (she’s thinks that what she had) when she was around six. And she’s bringing out all the pain and suffering that led up to and resulted from and continued after, this experience in hospital.
She feels that in many ways her life was not for her, she should have died, her parents killing her with their lack of love and hatred of her. But like us all, she was taught and made to live, to keep going and be how her parents demanded her to be.
She sees now that her life has been in some ways a waste of life, or a no-life, because she should have died and moved on into spirit. And that her life before this experience was of course also a no-life arriving her at the time when she should have died had she not been saved by the hospital.
So in a way she is still dying, has always been dying, always been on that threshold reached in the hospital, only forcing herself to keep going and to live as we all do. So her healing is taking her back connecting her through her feelings with herself back then, who really has been herself all the way along since then. So she’s stripping away the false put-on self that was forced to live, that was made to believe it is a crime to die and she will be a failure should she do so (unless through acceptable old age), moving back to being - as she’s always been underneath - the poor suffering unloved child.
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Post by James on Jun 14, 2014 18:12:27 GMT 10
Marion said today that it’s now been eighteen years that she’s been allowed to show herself to someone else - me; that she’s been allowed to be her miserable self and not told to stop and to change - to do this... and you’ll be happy. Everyone else has always told her she can’t be as she truly is, and because of that she’s not been able to be with them.
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Post by James on Jun 21, 2014 20:07:52 GMT 10
Marion is begging the Father to show her why is He doing it all, making us suffering, making us all be part of the Horror Show. Making such beautiful creatures and then torturing them. She can’t bear how we all are, how she is, how we’re all in every moment contributing to the revoltingness we are... Saddening images
The ongoing Horror Show
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Post by James on Jun 23, 2014 18:50:03 GMT 10
It’s very windy today: Don’t go out there, don’t go near the trees they’ll fall on you, the wind will blow them over, their branches will break off.
I want to go in the water with my new mask and snorkel, I want to see the fish underwater: Don’t go out too far the sharks will get you, stay close to shore so you don’t drown, don’t go out deeper than where you can stand in case something happens to you.
I want to go off in the bush walking to see if I can find any lizards: Don’t go too far, you’ll get lost. Look out for snakes, you might get bitten. Don’t step off the path or over any logs, always look in the other side of them a snake might be curled up sleeping.
I want to go over there near the edge of the road: Come back, you’ll get run over, don’t go over there it’s dangerous, don’t EVER go there without me or your father.
I think of going to see mum and I feel terrified, no way do I EVER want to see her again. She’s too scary, she always made me feel scared, she scared the shit out of me making me imagine all these bad things happening to me. She was the scary one, not the things, she is the Evil One hissing or whispering in my ear: Don’t go over there or else... Don’t do that because the bad thing will happen to you.
Now I understand I’m far more scared of mum than I am of trees in the wind or sharks in the water or snakes in the bush. Those things have never hurt me, but she always hurt me by making me be scared of everything - scared of her.
And how do I feel about that?
Fucking angry, I hate her, I feel so scared, and so miserable and scared of feeling so scared. I can’t do anything without always in the back of my mind fears of bad things happening to me. She’s ruined any enjoyment I might have had in life, and she’s made me stay with her afraid to ever go anywhere. So I have to stay with the one who scares me, wrongly believing she’s my protector and everything else out there is the scary thing.
And how does that make me feel?
More angry, I hate and hate her, I want to cut myself free of her; but worst of all, how it really makes me feel is so powerless, I can’t do anything because what if she’s right, what if the bad thing does happen to me.
And how does feeling powerless make me feel?
So unloved, so unhappy, so pathetic, which makes me feel so miserable. I can’t do anything, I’m too scared. I feel so miserably, despairingly miserable, and so scared about what’s going to happen to me, what’s going to become of me not being able to do anything.
And how does this make me feel, feeling so miserable and unable to do anything to stop the bad feelings?
I want to cry, and cry and cry, and just cease to be. I don’t want to breathe, to look at anything, as it all makes me scared. I want to scream and climb the walls with fear and run away and get out, and go somewhere that is nice to me, somewhere I no longer feel scared. I want to go and be with people who love me and make me feel wanted, warm and happy.
And how does not being able to do that and not be able to be with such nice people make me feel?
Sad, very sad and sorry for myself. Nothing ever good is going to happen for me, it never does. And how can it when I don’t do anything because I’m too scared. I feel crushed by it, I will never change, how can I, I’m too scared, full of so much fear. And I’m so depressed, so unhappy, and my body aches and aches, and I’m scared of it, I can’t do anything with it as it hurts, and I don’t see the point of carrying on, I’m not happy, I can’t enjoy anything, everything is always too fraught.
And how do I feel about being this way?
I don’t know how I feel. It’s too much. I’m too unhappy. I just feel trapped biting my nails scared to death. Always worried that at any moment a horrible thing will happen to me. I’m so anxious, riddled with fear and nervousness, always so scared. And I can’t do anything about it. Every cell in me is scared. I am Mr Scared. Just One Big Fear, composed of millions of fears.
And I can’t go any further with it - with myself; I don’t know what to say, only going to back to how I feel and saying it over and over as I yet again long for the truth of my fear. I’m scared, scared, scared, so scared, always scared, I feel so scared, scared, scared - it’s my mantra in life. Scared. And being so scared makes me feel so miserable. I’m so unhappy. And I hate life.
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Post by James on Jun 24, 2014 11:18:45 GMT 10
Marion says she’s an abomination. She’s the product of long lines of evilness, all handed down through countless generations. She was made to be revolting before she was even conceived, so the depths of her yuk are way beyond anything she can possibly relate to. And being so disgusting, she should be destroyed, exterminating the vermin that she is. She is just one big bag of poo, pain, ugliness, yuk, snot, phlegm, putridness that should be disposed off.
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Post by James on Jul 2, 2014 18:41:09 GMT 10
Marion: The essence of doing ones healing. You buy shoes that are too tight, causing you problems such as bunions and corns. So what we do to fix the problem is buy bigger shoes - or get the doctor help us deal with the physical problems. What we don’t do is want to understand the truth through our feelings of why we bought too small shoes in the first place.
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Post by James on Aug 17, 2014 14:52:01 GMT 10
Pick, bite, chew
She always promised something good would happen for me, all so long as I went along and did as she said. But when the good thing did happen, she didn’t just leave me to it, she was always there interfering with me, controlling, telling me what to do and what not to do.
I pick and bite my finger nails. I can’t just leave them be to get on with it - to be my finger nails. I am as she was with me, always saying they are not right as they are, so always controlling them, trying to make them be as I think they should be - bite, pick, chew.
And I am so pissed off, so angry with her always being on at me about one thing or another, unrelenting, never just fucking off and giving up and leaving me alone to find my own way. I am furious that the fucking bitch didn’t butt out, and even more angry that she made be believe that all she was doing was good for me, so not to get angry with her, to deny all my bad feelings siding with her against myself.
All day today since this has come up in me I’ve felt demented and distraught with anger. Right from the first moment in the womb she didn’t allow me to be how I wanted to be, so neither have I allowed myself to be. And I can’t just stop, always having to put my mind on something else, even like how my healing works, the spiritual stuff, what’s going on in the world, all which as I do I bite and chew and pick away at myself. All so I will one day disappear and stop being the annoying little shit that I was to my mother, and instead finally be the person she wants me to be - herself. And that thought, trying to be her, gives me the willies, I want to run away as fast as I can. And to run away and stay away, not fizz out like I did when I ran off to London hoping I’d find a nice mother to look after me and keep me away from her. So now that I know there’s no point running, so I pick and bite and try and stay with and true to my anger.
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Post by James on Sept 15, 2014 20:25:31 GMT 10
I don’t know what I want to do - the story of my life. I do things of course, but really, why am I doing them - and mostly I don’t know.
I am supposed to do them, someone is telling me it would be good for me to do them, but I don’t know if I really want to do them. I go along with them as I have no better alternative, but then I’ve had enough and want to stop.
The spiritual stuff was the first thing in my life that really grabbed me. Yes, I wanted to know what it was really all about. Talking with spirits and God greatly appealed; perhaps I could sort myself out. Then came the mission: It was all in such a mess, perhaps I could sort it out finding out what was right - the right and true way to live. And I feel I have done that. I am happy with what I have discovered. My spiritual fantasies about being with the angels, being with God, rising above the dreariness of everyday life, somehow merging with the Greater Consciousness, even living Heaven on Earth have all been crushed, I’ve discovered it has nothing to do with any of that, it’s about looking into the pain I am in finding out what happened to me during the years I can’t remember that caused my suffering. All of which is completely dull, unromantic, definitely not flying around with angels or going off into the bush playing with nature spirits.
It’s been a huge let down to discover it’s unglamorous, the first phase of our spiritual quest - that being to heal ourselves of our evilness by accepting all our pain and bad feelings, using them to uncover the horrid truth. It’s nothing like what I believed sitting in prayer and meditation and longing for the Divine Love would do for me. And sure I am healing myself, but it’s all so trying and difficult... and quite frankly when compared to what I thought it would be like - boring, because it’s not entertaining. And I feel like I’ve had enough of this game - it’s not fun, it’s not running around being free in my minds imagination. It’s all too real, too feeling-real, and most of those feelings make me feel bad.
So now what to I want to do?
I feel like I’ve had enough of it. I understand all I need to. I will keep going with my healing, and surely I’d be able to do that in spirit just as easily as here. And I hate being here. I’ve always hated it. Nothing has been for me, I’ve never felt like I’ve belonged. I’ve never wanted to do anything, mostly because I was too scared. But now as my fears are being healed, I don’t find I have any sudden zest and excitement about getting into life. In fact I feel the opposite and even more convinced that nothing attracts me here, I don’t want to do anything, I want to leave it all, get away from the rottenness that we people are, to no longer be surrounded by our unrelenting destruction of nature.
So what do I want? Do I want to keep going with the forum? Do I want to keep writing - yes and no. I feel ambiguous about it all. What I would have felt to write about I now leave aside feeling less inspired to do. Do I want to help people? I don’t know. Yes and no. Yes, as something to do, simply to fill in time until I go, no because of the bother of having to write so much going over and over the same old stuff that I’ve already written out so many times. Do I generally care about people and sincerely want to help them understand it all and do their healing? I don’t know. It’s all still what’s expected of me, I should do it, people need it - but do they? Voices from my past which are now my own tell me these things, but I don’t know what my true voice is saying. Half the time I feel like running away, going off to my imaginary mind-lake and being with the fish.
I feel like my ‘work’ is finished. I’ve ‘put it out there’. I no longer need to be involved, I don’t need to do anything further. I am a revealer, not a teacher - so I’ve revealed it. I might adds little bits and pieces every now and again, but really there is no need, other people can work all that out for themselves if that’s what they want to do. Really I want to go. Go into spirit. Finish off my healing over there. Set about getting on with my life... but doing what... what would I do over there? I don’t know, I don’t know what I want to do - or how I feel about it all...
So much of me is false and untrue. I am being all how they said I should be, what they said would be good for me. And I feel increasingly numb in it all. And increasingly angry; angry about feeling so frustrated, angry about not feeling inspired one way or the other. Angry that my own natural inclinations were never allowed to express themselves. Angry that I am stuck in ‘them’, that all I have is ‘their ways’, that I have so little of my own. I feel like now I’m just killing time. I’ve done what they or God has asked me to do, it all being for them, not for myself. I’ve found out what it’s all about. I’ve completed the school project - I’ve uncovered the truth. Now can I go home?
And it’s turning out nothing like I thought it would be like. I thought I’d love nothing more than to speak with people all day long about it all, to help them with their healing the best I could, all of which would also help me grow and ascend as I worked on myself, longed for and received the Divine Love, transformed my soul, all making me feel better and better about myself and eager to get stuck into life finally, to feel part of it all. But as yet none of that has happened. I’ve had a slight taste of it on and off, but now I feel that’s all petering out too. Now I feel like, well that’s done - what’s next, what’s my next assignment. That it is simply work I have to complete, not just my life that I love every thrilling moment of uncovering the truth and putting it out there. Now it’s become a labour, possibly even moving toward resenting it if I feel I have to keep going, all such feelings coming about because someone else - them - is telling me what I must keep doing. I was never free to stop and start and stop again, never free to do completely as I pleased, it was all always their idea, or if mine, then sanctioned by them, even praised by them if they thought that was what I needed. But nothing just for myself.
I feel like I’ve climbed the Mt Everest of the spiritual quest, and having attained the summit, look about seeing that really it’s only a molehill. All that hard work of searching, reading, asking so many questions of the spirits and myself, all those hours of wrestling with things that didn’t add up, all those years of trying to work out a framework to put it all in, all of which I still don’t know if it’s entirely right. And all for what, now looking about from the top of the molehill I can see it is all so simple: it’s about how we were treated a children. And that’s it. And shit what’s so amazing about that, we all know that after all, it’s nothing new. So I feel: what was all that about, it’s no big deal, no big revelation or insight after all. It’s in fact so obvious - feelings, expressing your feelings and they will bring up truth in you. It’s all grade one basics, not the masters in spiritual understanding I believed it would be.
I reach these ‘end’ points time and time again. They are part of my pattern, here I am again, so round I go again trying to express all these mixed up feelings. And usually they last a season then something comes up and I see I’m not quite at the top of the mountain, only a false summit and so there is more. So the more has taken a few more years work. But now I feel there is no more, I’ve been waiting these past months but the feeling of completion is only getting stronger. So now what do I do? Do nothing, keep speaking about all you feel - that all what you do, so Marion tells me. And it’s all I can do anyway.
And I can’t take my own life and move into spirit. And being in spirit I doubt will remove these feelings, it might hide them for a time while I explore the spirit worlds - something to fill in yet more time, but they will return. And I know they will because it’s all because I am still desperately unhappy, still feeling very discontent, just as I’ve always felt, just as they made me feel.
So I am longing to feel fulfilled, happy and content - to feel loved. I long to the Mother and Father everyday, I have been doing so for years now, and still I feel really pissed off that something more hasn’t happened, that I still feel like shit, miserable, still so scared of so many things, still such a long way away from feeling loved.
For hours each day I talk about all this with Marion. It comes up stronger in me at certain times, then it eases off as I am occupied or distracted by something else. And I feel I am still at home, mum giving me something to distract me for a time, something to take my mind off myself, off how bad I am feeling. And I’ve pretended that the distractions are good and what I want to do in life, and I keep using them to block out how I’m really feeling, because to stop them all and just do nothing, to feel so nothing and so lacking in everything is still just too hard to do.
And if I do it, then I will cry with the misery and frustration of my nothing life. And I’m not allowed to cry. Crying is for babies, for Nicholas and Suzi, and I am not like they are, I have ‘grown up’, I no longer cry like they do. I am superior to them, I do not need to cry, I do not need to get upset to the point of crying. I am like the grown ups, I am big and like dad and Papa, they don’t cry, they are not like mum and Gran who do still cry; I am a man, not a girl like them.
So I can’t express any of my bad feelings, ‘don’t you worry about it James, it’s not your concern, you don’t need to know’. So I don’t need to be part of the family, involved in all the goings on, all the good and bad. I don’t need to feel any pain, to cry. I just need to play my role like all the unfeeling men in my family, sort of part of the family yet out on the outer and not part of it. There, but not there. So I will just keep myself away, disappear back into my mind, dream away, living the nothing life I do. I won’t ‘step up to the plate’ and engage like everyone says I should, as there is no longer any plate I want to step up to. So I’ll go back to amusing myself watching Neil Young and Emmylou Harris playing Prairie Wind and singing about King the hound dog and It’s a Dream in Nashville. All whilst I fill in yet more time floating away on the music being back with the angels - Somewhere that is Nowhere.
Yet another fear... It was time to go, I was sitting on the seat alongside the shed. The other kids and the teacher were walking round the corner to wait for the bus. Just as they started to go I started to poo. Somehow it didn’t affect my pants just coming out of me and down through the wooden slats of the seat and onto the ground in a huge pile. They were all waiting for me. What was I do? I needed to wipe and clean myself. I was rooted to the spot with embarrassment and humiliation, shame - I’ve just shat myself. I didn’t even have warning that I needed to poo. It just happened, how pathetic am I, I can’t even control myself. I don’t know what to do, and I can’t let go and just cry with the horror of it all. I am frozen with despair, she’ll come any moment and the toilet is a long way away.
Talking about the dream I realised that I have a very deep seated fear of ‘making a mess’, and especially one in public. I couldn’t bear it. And the more we talked the more I could see how really I never want to go out, at least if I stay at home I’m closer to the toilet should I suddenly need one, and hopefully I’ll be able to take care of myself, clean myself before anyone gets home.
And I definitely didn’t want to go to school, because what happened if I ‘had a mistake’ and made such a mess in front of the class, shitting or vomiting all over myself, my desk, another person, just as some of the other kids had occasionally done. It would be all too much, I’d die.
And I don’t feel I ever got any genuine sympathy for doing such things at home. Yelled at for screwing up things - mum’s plans; only vague care if I wasn’t feeling too good, then off to the doctor. I never felt like any of those sorts of things I did were properly attended to so as to make me feel all right about doing them, that I wasn’t bad, that it wasn’t my fault, that I wasn’t a vile, putrid, disgusting creature.
And I can see how the fear goes right through all that I am.
When I lived with Dominique and her mum Laura, three year-old ’Nique would occasionally in the car erupt throwing up all over the place. And it was yucky all right, but it was all right, it happens, and we made sure she didn’t feel bad about doing it. But I don’t feel like I was treated that way, more like scolding the pet for being sick on the carpet.
And I can see how I’ve deluded myself all these years, telling myself that I am not a baby anymore, I no longer do those things, I am ‘above all that’, ‘over it all’, that I’ve ‘out grown it’. But I’m not. I am still that baby, I am still, as my dream showed me, shitting myself literally with the fear of shitting myself out there and showing what a real stupid idiot dumb-arse moron can’t-even-control-himself fuckwit I am. Someone who should be forevermore laughed at, ridiculed, and made fun of.
And how are you doing Desire - still feeling yuk about it all? I’m feeling yuk about everything.
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Post by James on Sept 20, 2014 21:19:49 GMT 10
Today I felt really good within my usual feeling bad. I suddenly knew that I no longer feared dad.
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Post by James on Sept 25, 2014 21:45:36 GMT 10
Putting yourself down
Both Marion and I in our different ways heavily put ourselves down. I put on a false bravado that I was OK, Marion always apologising to everyone that she was bad and sorry for being a bother. As I’ve stripped back my false front so I’ve been able to be truer to putting myself down, allowing myself to feel I expect to be rejected because I too am a bother. We were both a bother for our parents who constantly rejected us. Our pattern has formed expecting to be put down, and now that our parents aren’t around doing it, still the pattern of them saying such hurtful things is in our mind, and as the pattern needs to be fulfilled as part of our programming, we’ve taken over our parents saying such put down things, saying such unloving and rejecting words ourselves. ‘You won’t be mean to me will you, you won’t reject me, I’m sure you must feel I’m a pain; am I making your angry, I’m sorry I am, I will go away, I’m sure you must want me to go away, I’m sure you must have had enough of me by now.’
As usual following Marion’s lead, we’ve both allowed ourselves in private and in pubic to put ourselves down, all so we can liberate all the repressed feelings associated with the hurt we felt from our parents not loving us. And gradually as we’ve fully accepted ourselves for being this unloving way to ourselves, so we’ve gradually been moved by our feelings to stop being nasty to ourselves, gaining greater respect, sympathy, love and care for ourselves.
And this evening Marion felt she no longer needs to do it, that suddenly it’s all ended, that after all these years she is no longer going to put herself down because she feels she no longer has to. The pattern is simply no longer there. Another milestone in her healing. And one that affirms to me yet again, that by simply allowing yourself to be as you feel as fully as you can, all whilst wanting to know the truth of such feelings and behaviour, is how we can fully heal ourselves of all our unloving patterns.
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Post by James on Sept 30, 2014 15:13:48 GMT 10
I do and I don't
I want them to yell at me, to yell telling me what I’m not to do and what I am to do. It’s all about my will. I want Desire, Samantha, Wesley, the whole world to yell at me to stop doing what I’m doing, STOP IT, STOP IT NOW DO YOU HEAR ME! You are not allowed to keep doing it. Stop doing all that rubbishy spiritual stuff that’s only making people feel bad, making them feel rejected more than they already do, making them feel hurt. STOP IT! And I want someone to yell at me to DO IT, DO IT NOW DO YOU HEAR ME! I need them to make me do it, to yell at me to get up off my bum you dole bludger and get work, be like everyone else, get a life - DO IT, NOW! It’s part of my pattern, so I am waiting shitting myself and so angry that I have to be told what to do, and scared of what I will be made to do, and scared that if I don’t do anything, being made to stop, what life can I live. I am so confused, angry about having to try and live in no-mans land, trying not to rock the boat, trying to be invisible, doing what I think won’t get me into trouble. Always so scared waiting for them to yell at me again yet also needing them to yell to define my life, so I know where I stand, what I can and can’t do, what’s acceptable. And I don’t know what to do, I never know what I am to do - what I really feel like doing. Half the time I do things because I think it’s what they want and what will keep me out of trouble, but it’s not what I really want to do because I don’t know what I really want to do. And I feel so miserable about it, so powerless again, so weak and nothing, pathetic, useless, having to rely on someone else all the time as to what I can do and even what I can feel. I have to follow their lead, smile when they smile, laugh when they laugh, frown when they frown because I don’t know what I feel, or what I think I should feel. I feel so miserable that there is no real me, I don’t really exist, I’m only a stupid extension of them. I feel so fucked, demented about it all, and so confused all the time; should I smile now or shouldn’t I - I don’t know. And what will other people think, they all know, they will see I’m a dumbo and I can’t bear that, I don’t want to be stupid and laughed at because I’m smiling and laughing when really I should be looking sad. And so I wait for God to tell me, go on James get out there, tell everyone about how to live, and I wait for God who is them to tell me, stop doing that, come back here, come back inside, you can’t go out there telling everyone that. And backwards and forwards I go in myself, just wishing I could disappear or run away, just give it all up and fuck them off once and for all.
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Post by James on Oct 13, 2014 10:43:56 GMT 10
Cleaning your teeth
Marion was taught to spit her toothpaste out when she’d finished brushing her teeth. Yesterday, at 63 years old, for the first time she didn’t forcefully spit it out, she just opened her mouth and let it come out amazed that it did and was effortless. Everything about her parents was forceful, and all through her healing she’s slowly given up using such force and being kinder to herself, just as she now has with this aspect of cleaning her teeth. If anything is untrue, anything we’re doing to ourselves is unloving, in time it will all come to light and we’ll adjust ourselves as we liberate such deeply ingrained negative patterns.
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