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#450449 - 10/17/13 08:52 AM how i process crap 90 % of the time
freeze-on Offline


Registered: 08/08/09
Posts: 72
Loc: southeast
I apologize for the grand fail on properly placing youtube links into the post below....but cut and paste works....

apologies to anyone offended by any religiosity ....no harm intended. but just to share my corner of the world a bit...perhaps a therapist would be more appropriate. but for now......



ON THE STAGE OF LIFE. CENTER STAGE:

addict

anything that i can fill my life with to mask all the damning things i have used to cover the wounds of the reality that is me. cover the shame. hide the truth. run from the reality. put a cork in the leaking ocean of pain gushing from my inner soul. emotional dam. is a cork sufficient in size. or corks, many corks to wedge the flood inside. let it stay. it is safer there. and then the seams of the dam begin to give way. paste on the concrete. the super glue. the steel sheet of cover up with tightly welded seams. whatever it takes. the creature of shame. with tentacles reaching into the recesses of my being. probing. stirring the dust in my soul. the particles had settled. now being brought to stir again. tentacles caressing the shame as if it were an infant. tentacles livening the plaque of deadness. tentacles lifting the scabs of my soul. maggoty putrid scabs bidding to be left alone. cut the tentacles let the shame stay well, but hidden, it is safer that way. reach for another addiction. keep it all submerged. cover the shame. the mask of a clown today? the mask of a princess ? the mask of a villain? the mask of a warrior? a hero? a heroin? a fix.... mask it. survive it. let it boil to a flaming massive uncontrollable seething cauldron of emotion. then it leaks again, visible for all to see that underneath i am not well.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t_TL9YFemic

leaks in places i failed to cover ...my hands are few to dam the flood of a million leaks. and i fall apart . the shame oozes out onto my hands, into my mind, onto my being, over my self and into full view of all. the center stage light beams its exposing talons onto me. the audience in rapt interest glare relish in the failure of all my best to present a pretty picture of my existence..........and sneer......and judge......... and relish in my weakness. in my humanity. in my weakness. in my failure. glaring. probing. sneering. poking at the spent boy lying there exposed and alone. look at my nothingness. see it writhe. yesss...see it writhe. see it suffer. yesss. less than life. just an ooze of protoplasm on the surface of the universe. yet underneath dying from a heart that is sick and yearning for what feels like is rightfully mine, yet inappropriately so.

( The guys in junior high school who i was 'in love' with....nothing sexual thankfully, but was close to and loved...like brothers? what is 'that' kind of love called. my over expectant heart of love gone bad....we were close and yet they went away, and i am alone again. the age of 15 )

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=di3nOhKYTK4

cut. someone mop up the stage. next.

BEHIND THE CURTAIN, OFF STAGE LEFT. IN THE JANITORS CLOSET: dim lighting with a thousand weary shadow lights focusing on a withered character in partial undress and lying lifeless, breathing slow, shallow.

death.

here in the mop bucket of existence. swirled into the discards of liquids of filth. losing form. conglomerated with the nastiness of all other failure. withering into loss of self. undone. alone. abandoned. exposed. failure. discard. waste. refuse. disjointed. morbid heap. i exist in non existence. a fluke. a mistake. an aberration. mutant life form of death. and then the fetid liquid is cast out of the bucket onto the ground. as i lie there undone, naked, abused, alone with the liquid of my soul slowly dissipating into the grains of the sand i've been cast upon, i hear my inner self with guttural cries for help outside of my existence. as in a barrel slowly ebbing away into oblivion.....heart beat slow, breathing has stopped, skin melting away. eyes rolled up, lips parched and dry. alone.

IN THE ALLEY BESIDE THE DUMPSTER; traffic whirring by on the side street of inner city:


hope.

upon disintegration. new molecules are formed, rearranged atomic bonds, infusion of life energy. i hear the energy as a fog thru the shadows of my oblivion beckoning my soul to re awake, to re form, to join the living. i dont have the energy to reach up and out of myself. i feel something pulling me back up out and into a new form, a new being, a new me....the echo of a song i once heard , though different lyrics, meet the chords of my heart and stir me toward re-existence...do i even want to go there....or stay here in my nothingness. do i quit here and lie down in death or tether to the other side and live. what is my purpose what is my reason. and like the roaring of an overheat jet blasting its engines and rattling the sardine can by my ear I hear a voice singing a song that has familiarity:
http://www.youtube.com.watch?v=DMznTHifDTc

http://www.youtube.com.watch?v=ZuJWQzjfU3o &

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6VX-qwh4MV0

&

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DNmfhUbP_NA





AT THE SCENE OF ZENOS FUDAKIS SCULPTURE :

http://zenosfrudakis.com/sculptures/public/Freedom.Zoom/Freedom1.html



freedom.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W8DiZhNVu1I

when i come completely attuned to who i am. not necessarily how i have allowed others to define me by the heaped up ugliness they put on me. when i come completely attuned to how i have reacted to others ugliness toward me , how i have participated in the lies put on me by others. how i have acted on those lies about myself, lies i have believed. lies i have lived out, lies and ugliness i put on others in my own sickness, realizing i am capable of harming others in my brokenness; realizing that i will not yield to the ugliness again in the same capacity i have in the past. realizing that the only hope i have is in the freedom of truth and right living even when i fail miserably. even when i am weak and tend to want to bend backward. i can know that i won't stay there forever. freedom to face who i am, what i am , where i've been and KNOW that it is not the sum total of who i am, but only the broken side of the creature i was made to be. i have the propensity to do wrong. as i work my program one day at a time, choosing life each minute, each day, the chains of the past have no control over me.

( i am not pinnochio. or maybe i am like him once he was free of his strings:)

last link

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iAykOz1gWi4.




and so it is. .....that every day somedays. i go through this entire process. over and over. and one day it will stick completely...down into the depths of who i am. but today. i believe its freedom. today i am freedom. today i am free.

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#450462 - 10/17/13 12:26 PM Re: how i process crap 90 % of the time [Re: freeze-on]
ForeverFighting Offline
Member
MaleSurvivor

Registered: 02/09/05
Posts: 1058
Loc: New Mexico, USA
It's such a common thread among us, isn't it? We're overcome by the shame, the weakness, the failure. Everything seems so dark inside. The filth. Like others are judging us...
Quote:
the audience in rapt interest glare relish in the failure of all my best to present a pretty picture of my existence..........and sneer......and judge......... and relish in my weakness. in my humanity. in my weakness. in my failure. glaring. probing. sneering. poking at the spent boy lying there exposed and alone. look at my nothingness. see it writhe. yesss...see it writhe. see it suffer.

Well said. Sometimes it feels like others must be aware of all the horrors in my mind. And how true that if we don't deal with the feelings, they will leak all over the place in ways that hurt rather than help. That's what I'm working on now. Nice post. We're glad you're here.
_________________________
ForeverFighting

"This search for the truth--it's not for the faint of heart."--Goren on 'Law & Order: CI'
"The former things will not be called to mind, neither will they come up into the heart."--Isaiah 65:17

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#450930 - 10/22/13 03:46 AM Re: how i process crap 90 % of the time [Re: freeze-on]
GT13568 Offline
Member
MaleSurvivor

Registered: 09/02/11
Posts: 121
Loc: California
Quote:
( The guys in junior high school who i was 'in love' with....nothing sexual thankfully, but was close to and loved...like brothers? what is 'that' kind of love called. my over expectant heart of love gone bad....we were close and yet they went away, and i am alone again. the age of 15)


That kind of love is called "innocent," Freeze; and it's wonderful and rare. Innocence was taken away from you very early, like all of us here. That pain never goes away. The destruction of our / your innocence does leave a hole that's difficult to fill. Addiction is one way we try: addiction to substances, to porn, to acting out; you express it well.

I'm sorry you're in pain. Remember that the "failure" in your early life was not yours, you don't own that, so to speak. You were raped. Now you are recovering. It's very hard, and it never really stops; but you've been through the worst already, and you survived.

No need to apologize for the links, or the religion. They both work fine for you, so they do for me, too.

All my best to you,

Geoff

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#450963 - 10/22/13 10:15 AM Re: how i process crap 90 % of the time [Re: freeze-on]
jas4159 Offline


Registered: 06/16/11
Posts: 245
pretty intense stuff. you articulate your feelings and insights well. stay strong and keep seeking recovery - it will come.

stay strong

rich

my blog: justanothersurvivror.wordpress.com
_________________________
Thanks

rich

justanothersurvivror.wordpress.com

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