Darkness sometimes can hit without warning. No call, no siren of impending danger, it slithers up and strikes the psyche while infecting your being with it’s lethal venom. While there are varying forms of darkness, it visited me yesterday. It slid up next to me whispering nasty everything’s into my mind. It had more of a revealing quality, yesterday – one of those flavors of darkness that presented it’s side of the truth in it’s twisted and emotionally heavy way, forcing me to stare directly into it’s big, black, darkened eyes. It beckoned me with intensity to confront it. And so I did. We sat on my bed with the lights of the day snuffed out by the hiding of the sun, and took turns tossing the information presented – wrestling, dancing, chiding, and humiliating. It cast accusations at me while I held up…
This isn’t a bragging session. Well, in one sense it may be, but not like you may think. I am moved. Tonight I am moved because I was just thinking back on how I exisit, and breathe, and live in this world. How I see it, why I see it that way… I owe it to my mom. I wish I could express how wonderful my mother is. I could go on for hours and hours of these countless deeds she has done – gifting time, money, resources – not only for me, but my sister, my friends, her friends, her ex husband (my dad), her parents… Seriously, the list doesn’t stop. And it’s likely that more are to come in her wake that will feel her good graces. I know, I know, everyone is grateful for a parent, or at least…
“Experience has taught us that we have only one enduring weapon in our struggle against mental illness: the emotional discovery of the truth about the unique history of our childhood. Is it possible, then, to free ourselves altogether from illusions? History demonstrates that they sneak in everywhere, that every life is full of them-perhaps because the truth often seems unbearable to us. And yet, the truth is so essential that its loss exacts a heavy toll, in the form of grave illness. In order to become whole we must try, in a long process, to discover our own person truth, a truth that may cause pain before giving us a new sphere of freedom. If we choose instead to content ourselves with intellectual ‘wisdom,’ we will remain in the sphere of illusion and self-deception.” [bold emphasis my own] – Alice Miller, The Drama of…
From my last post, I apologize. Not for expressing myself, but the rant and anger that I displayed. Don’t get me wrong, all those feelings and emotions were incredibly present, and still 100% are when I reflect back. However, giving in to a lot of those fueled expressions was…potentially distasteful. And for that, I am sorry. But again, it doesn’t mitigate my experience. Not one bit. Those were real emotions pouring from me, real experiences, real heartbreak. That was my absolute reality after the most powerful man in my company, and my direct boss, took it upon himself to violate my body by touching my butt, sexually, multiple times. And as I chose to press forward in the complete dark, I wanted to reflect back to raise awareness to the very real consequences, of not my choices (but also yes, my choices too in…
I remember the first time I was honest. Not in the normal, day to day meaning… but the first time I was honest to the point that it cost me… I remember it clear as day. I was 16, in a bathroom stall at my school and I had cheated on 3 high school end of year exams. I had recently found a faith (that I loosely still proscribe to) but back then, it was a new found faith and a set of beliefs that challenged my character deeply. I remember I had been caught cheating on one of the exams – I was humiliated. And after that 3rd exam, I went into this stall to breathe, to cry, to sulk and to gather my devious game plan of how to handle it. I wanted to lie, to blame it on someone, to minimize what I had done…