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#124278 - 08/03/05 06:36 PM my ongoing journey...
theo Offline
Member
MaleSurvivor

Registered: 09/28/03
Posts: 1117
brothers, and friends,
below is yet another long winded excerpt froom journal lol. i share this for many reasons. it was a wonderful experience that i want all here to know about because of what it points to for each of our healinig journeys. another is found in the addendum below. it is my belief that my lakota brother came to me that night and was there for me. continue to jourrney well, all of you.

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7-30-05…excerpt

I had a strange experience last night. At first, I thought it was a dream. I was in this home of some people but was made very welcomed, almost as though I belonged there myself. It actually kind of felt like that. For some reason, I was on the floor of a fairly cramped space and the people kept walking around me. At one point, my legs got entangled in the flowing skirts of one of the women. Then, the men and I sat around talking about various things. They then pulled out the musical instruments they each played and began tuning them. I considered my sax, the tenor or soprano, and settled on the latter. It was not something they were used to participating with, but they wanted to try. They asked me what key, and I said just play, I will catch up. I was embarrassed I could not recall music notation off the top of my head. They insisted they would follow me. I laid there for a moment before I began to play thinking of what I wanted to start with. What came to mind was a slow, powerful invocation of something beautiful and spiritual.

What happened next was the weird part. As I imagined the music in my mind, there was a sudden crescendo chorus singing, ‘He’s ascending now…” this was the refrain and was repeated. I suddenly felt gentle hands underneath me guiding me to ascend, but not forcing it. This was to be my choice. Once I realized what was happening, the sudden joy overtook me and I let myself drop the fear and started to ascend. I was concerned about the ceiling and the roof. Was I dead? Would I just float right through it? They both opened up and I began to ascend higher. I did not go beyond the rooftop, though I projected the feeling of space and what it would be like. I gently came back down. I was happy and thrilled. I then realized that for once, I was in a dissociative state that was not threatening. I knew I was dissociating because I finally recognized the pattern of the radio in my mind increasing in volume and power as the key events were being played out. I also recognized the pattern of my body being tied into the virtual paralysis of the dissociative state. I turned to the men that were there and smiled. I was waiting for the next ascension and preparing myself for it. This time, it was conveyed that it was fully my choice as to when. Upon understanding this, I smiled brightly again and turned my head to focus on the crescendo of music as I willed myself to experience the ecstasy of ascension. Once more, I began to ascend and the house structure opened up allowing me passage…my body, not my spirit (therefore, I was not dead).

During the ascension, its apex actually, I began to feel the real sensations of my body again and knew this episode was going to end soon. It gently ended with increasing awareness of the here and now. It was with regret, but pleasure nonetheless at the experience, that I gradually welcomed the return to the real world. I marveled at the experience as I woke up from the state. For the first time in memory, I had dissociated into a wonderful place. Not out of fear, but out of a need to find something within me. I am still not sure what this experience means, but I have a clue. It was similar to a dream I had nearly twenty-five or more years ago. We lived in apartment three on Lincolnway in LaPorte. I had dreamed that I was standing outside on Lincolnway in the street when I looked up and began to rise, to ascend, towards my Father. That was his way of telling me that I was right, that I was his son after all and that he loved me. I never forgot that dream, though it was not always in the forefront of my thoughts. This episode was similar, but it was more involved and it was not a dream this time…it was a full blown dissociative trance.

The people involved in the episode are symbols of something I am not sure of. Perhaps those that support me and love me. That would fit in with the symbology of their hands reaching to guide me upwards. The music instruments? Not sure, perhaps just a prelude to the radio and the chorus to help me focus. I was guided to freely choose my path, the music to play or imagine, not directed. Some of the other elements were the environmental cues of the external, that is the real world. My legs getting caught in the woman’s dress was the blankets wrapping around my legs. The actual sensation of hands under me was JB (“Junior Bear”…Little Theo’s bear) under my arm. The sensation of being on the floor with restricted movements was the position I was in while in bed having the episode. None of these elements detract from the episode or its meaning because they all contribute to how the episode played out.

I really have nothing to fear anymore. That is what the experience points to. Yes, I still have to rework the memories of what happened to me as a child and integrate them into a more healthy perspective free of the>
_________________________
journey well,
theo dewolfe

- It is gift, and gift will find its way
- I inherit through my choice. I build through my affirmation. It is through my freedom that I nurture, or fade into autonomy
- I was not given to serve life, but to embrace it

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#124279 - 08/03/05 06:40 PM Re: my ongoing journey...
theo Offline
Member
MaleSurvivor

Registered: 09/28/03
Posts: 1117
this was the follow up to the above entry of the day prior to when i wrote this one. sorry for the length, but it is how i write lol.

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7-31-05—1030hrs

Prior to the episode Friday night, it was okay to allow myself to drift with the current of random experience because I had no direction I could perceive or accept. That has changed. I am not drifting anymore. My brother and People helped me to find the meaning within me again. I cannot turn away from that. Not out of obligation, but out of an awareness that I deserve and want more.

I am no longer afraid of the memories. That is what has changed. Jake and our people helped me to see that there was nothing to fear from the dissociations because they helped the three of us remember as we need and are able to, the hellacious abuse and trauma. Not to further incapacitate us, but to give us strength to face what has been buried for so long. The self-hatred I carried all those years and the terror of facing the abuse again that Little Theo suffered was something to be avoided. Former Wife and Lady Theo leaving me when I needed them the most for their own purposes was devastating and only reinforced the sense of utter worthlessness. That was a misperception. I am no longer afraid.

The memories and the associated emotions of terror and such will have to be faced, but they are no longer objects of terror in themselves. Yes, it will be debilitating during the experience of the dissociation and flashbacks, but they are not harbingers of doom anymore. They never were of course, but I can now see that. This is my life, and I am taking it back.

For the first time, dissociation was a healing experience that I could embrace without the terror. That is what Jake was showing me. This is the path to healing, not terror, for it is an integration of who the three of us are. I could not face the terror, loneliness, or all pervasive sense of worthlessness. I wanted to die but could not bring myself to do it in one definitive act. That would have been too traumatic for those that shared my journey and loved me. Whereas drinking myself to death would at least give them time to get used to the idea, a sudden desperate act would have been overwhelming. Also, a part of it was that I was trying to hang on somehow hoping something would show up to give me the strength again to believe in myself. That could not happen so long as I was buried in alcohol.

I am no longer there, no longer want to be there. I no longer need it actually. What was so phenomenal about this experience was what it pointed to. Dissociation was an object of terror in itself because it rendered me powerless as an adult and left Little Theo defenseless while in the grip of it. I did not deserve to heal because all I loved showed me that to them, I was not worth the struggle. That was a key deception. So long as I believed that, I was powerless. I had to be able to finally see that them leaving had nothing to do with me as a man or individual, regardless of the separate events within our relationships. I was worth the struggle, and Former Wife and Lady Theo knew that, but they could not continue the relationship. It was the relationship that was too much for them, not me. There was still the terror of the memories and associated emotions.

That is where the episode of two nights ago comes in. That was the final straw that broke the lock. I had to prevent the dissociations and recall because I could not find the strength to face them because I could not find the strength to believe I was worth the struggle. Vicious cycle.

Being worth the struggle involves a belief in one’s self-worth. I did not have that. It was there buried, but I could not accept it in light of the apparent evidence. Being worth the struggle and belief in self-worth to face the struggle also involves the courage and capacity to embrace the struggle to regain what was lost. The experience of what happened to me is mine. The responsibility for what happened to me is theirs. Therein lies the distinction I was only able to vaguely grasp intellectually. It is the experience that is mine that I am no longer afraid to embrace and integrate. The responsibility of the shame, guilt, and horrors are theirs.

I mentioned earlier that I had been lovingly redeemed of responsibility for the Sacrifice of so long ago because of my inability to intervene. That is a phenomenal step for me to accept. Whatever the Sacrifice was, I can finally see I had no way to stop it. The Sacrifice was never mine. This overwhelming guilt I have carried for so long and that has completely distorted my legitimate sense of responsibility was one of the most heinous chapters in what I grew up with because it so completely disabled my ability as an individual and a human being to be able to live. The experience of what happened is mine…their choices never were.

Out of terror, shame, and guilt I refused to embrace the experiences that have molded me into the man others have seen within me for so long. This man they saw could not be real because I knew within that I was a shattered being, unworthy of their respect. If they could only see the filth I kept buried even from myself then they would know how very wrong they were in admiring this golem they thought was a man. So long as I maintained that sense of fragmentation I would not be able to be fully human.

I have often said that everything of my past has gone into what I am today. It is only now that I can fully accept the ramifications of that statement. Recovery involves owning the experience, not the responsibility. The experience contributed to who the survivor has become. It is while within the grip of incomprehensibility of terror and suppression that the horrors of recovery are at their worst and the sense of utter worthlessness is strongest. Who the survivor has become… So long as we are still fighting the integration of the experiences and associated memories, our sense of self remains fragmented and we cannot perceive a self that we have become. We can only perceive the pain of what we are going through in the recall of memories. While in the midst of the pain, we are not a self, a person…we are a raw wound. What can be the sense of selfhood in that?

The sense of self, the person others see, is the overall picture of the person we struggle to be. That consistent pattern of one who tries to care for others even while in the deepest depths of our pain. That consistent pattern of a human being who sets aside personal needs and wants to be there for others. In my own life, the consistent pattern others have always seen within me is compassion, empathy, honor, integrity, endurance. What I could see within me is that I was a worthless hulk merely walking through this existence. I could not see the bigger picture others saw, that is, the complete person I was struggling to continually be, for the simple reason that all I saw were the pieces of the shattered one I was. Would I have become the same or similar man I am and that others have always seen were it not for the trauma? Does this somehow justify the trauma? HELL FRIGGIN NO! However, predators and assholes did force their choices on me and I suffered at their hands. The question now is what do I do with it? They sought to destroy an innocent child and make that child into what they were. All they did was piss off the man I have become. Me? Powerless? Phhfftttt! While the child was defenseless to stop the assaults, the man refuses to accept the guilt and shame that is, and always was, exclusively theirs anymore.

_________________________
journey well,
theo dewolfe

- It is gift, and gift will find its way
- I inherit through my choice. I build through my affirmation. It is through my freedom that I nurture, or fade into autonomy
- I was not given to serve life, but to embrace it

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#124280 - 08/03/05 06:50 PM Re: my ongoing journey...
Mike Church Offline
Moderator Emeritus
MaleSurvivor
Registered: 01/23/03
Posts: 3439
Loc: Toronto, Canada
You said:
Quote:
I no longer have to understand the incomprehensible actions of predatory adults because I finally accept that it cannot be comprehended. I no longer have to fight with the guilt and shame of the loss of the relationships because I finally see that they never left the man. I no longer have to shoulder the guilt and shame of the predators because I finally see it was never mine. I no longer have to carry the cross of the Sacrifice of so long ago because I finally see I had been lovingly redeemed of any inability to intervene. Remorse I freely and justifiably carry for my poor choices that harmed the ones I loved. That is as it should be. That is something that can be dealt with realistically because it was mine to own.
Theo welcome to living. It is a great feeling isn't it.

And I really love this:
Quote:
Does this somehow justify the trauma? HELL FRIGGIN NO! However, predators and assholes did force their choices on me and I suffered at their hands. The question now is what do I do with it? They sought to destroy an innocent child and make that child into what they were. All they did was piss off the man I have become. Me? Powerless? Phhfftttt! While the child was defenseless to stop the assaults, the man refuses to accept the guilt and shame that is, and always was, exclusively theirs anymore.


_________________________
Mikey

IT REALLY IS OK TO STUMBLE. NONE OF US ARE PERFECT.

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