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Personal Sharings / Healing Fragmentation
Yesterday I cried in jerky spurts, that weird kind of foggy crying, where I seem to go unconscious between spurts of wild vomitous crying. It really does feel like fragmentation in reverse. Strange stuff.
This time I was crying the goslings in the gap, lots of terror, memories of HER leaving us. And this time the FoM was there, and I was crying heartbreak of being left behind by him too.
He came to us there in the gap... and all of us leapt with hope and joy, hope of rescue. But he took only part of us away, and left the rest behind. I kept crying this awful fragmenting devastation... shock... "No! It can't be true!!" Watching their disappearing backs and shattering, going unconscious. Waking up to shock again, realization and terror. Trying to curl up, crawl deep inside my mind, getting stuck and lost in the maze. Shattering again.
All day I've been watching love movies, and listening to love music. These little parts are SO wanting to believe in our Engineer Man, wanting to believe that it's possible, that he WILL help now. That he CAN help now. But there's also so much rage... wanting to kill the hope. That hope is the cruelest pain of all. And can I bring my rage and hurt and hope to him? Will he shrink away from me if I show him how I feel?
I'm too afraid to go into my basement room to see if he's still there. I'm afraid the image from the other day is true. I saw the room in ruins, barren, dusty. There was nothing there, no E.M., no machinery, no lights, no plants. No safety. What did that mean???
He could be gone, sure... I know he's afraid of my rage. But that room is me, mine, my inner workings. It can't be in ruins! Well, I guess it could. But my faith in him would be so shattered. I realize I have come to have a smidgy of trust in him... in the belief that he'll be there always, waiting to help. Is it just a pretty dream?
It's the fact of this trust, this slowly developing jewel of trust, that is allowing me to go so deeply into the rage and hurt... is allowing me to remember the devastation of the hope. Without this trust and tiny belief in his love, I couldn't go forward.
Another layer of FoM stuff, more memories, different parts. Parts that love him. I watched What Women Want, and something in it touched me, triggered me. I believed the portrayal, I believed him in the end, when he said he was sorry. I believed the remorse, it was real. I cried such deep heartbreak and need, and love. Seeing his need, his pain, this part of me responds... and can't help it. HAS NO CHOICE. She just must love him, and I feel such pain and shame about that! Wishing I could go away so he won't see my love. How many times did I open and get nothing in return? How many times?? There are these huge deep tracks of heartbreak, sureness that he does not love me, that he will hurt me. That he hates me and I don't know why. It's impossible to believe he loves me now.
Splits in me... fragmenting... I felt it happen. A part that wants to turn away from him, hold myself cold and aloof and uncaring of his pain. After all, when we turned to him with our need, did we ever get love or comfort, or even pity? He hates our need. But when he hurts, when he needs, when he comes crying and pleading, we MUST respond. Guilt says so, he says so - otherwise we're being unloving, unforgiving, and how DARE we??? - it's up to us to take care of him. I'm so enraged. IT'S SO UNFAIR!!!!!
But this other part, she CAN'T turn away. She can't. She can't NOT love him, feel for him, turn to him with open arms and love, even knowing that once his pain and need are done he will once again turn away from us.
There are so many layers to my onion... so MANY fragmented pieces. How long will it take me to heal this???? I can be patient with my own process. Haven't I been patient so far? But can he?
I got a memory this morning of being sliced... it actually felt like an axe blade in my skull. Was that real, or was it the feeling of unloving light slicing in? It was so hard to cry. Part of it was crying my own rage AT me, at the parts of me that won't move... sort of like self-hate but not. But then there was also ... the rage of that light for me, the darkdeath, commanding me to die. I cried rage at the light then, too. Screaming, breathing fire, trying to BLOW it back to him, to where it belongs. And then stark terror... if I let go of this darkdeath, I'll have nothing. I'll be mindless again.
But I feel really lost and confused by this... bouncing around between parts. There's this weird feeling of speed and sharpness in the axe/light part... makes me wary and uncomfortable. Like an ill-fitting shirt. Not to mention how out of control I feel. It's like everything I do has the potential to be turned around and used by this part. I'm afraid. I'm afraid it's going to act out and bring danger down on me. How do I know when I'm acting of my own volition and when it's this icky sharp light acting through me?
Wanting to die this morning. I'm back down in the barrel bottom. No value. No comfort. Nobody cares. I feel as if my body is an empty shell. When I cried I felt like a carved out canoe. Burnt out hull. My insides were burned and blasted. And nobody cares. This part remembers it as if a meteor struck me... skated down my front, scooping and burning and hollowing me out, and then buried itself in my spine. Way down low. And it sits there still -- emitting a signal. Radiating a message. Die. Die. Die.
Thurs nite, nite of the new moon, I had a huge vomitous cry before bed. Longing for light and home and ... for the first time I almost remembered home. I almost remembered before. Maybe I finally worked backward far enough to get beneath the frozen hopeless starving imprint! (My god, to remember a time before the imprinting. A time of purest trust and love. !!! Is that possible? ???) And from that almost-place, as I cried, I was aware of my E.M. helping me, being there, telling me there IS light and love there for us now. And for the first time, I felt it, I felt my parts taking it in. Really hearing it.
Still, my deepest most wounded motherbody parts are afraid. Ghash refuses to ever need him, to ever be that helpless and under his power, ever again. She would rather die.
To her, he gave the most magnificent gift!
Light of our very own!!!
I don't know how that's possible, but I felt it. I believe it. It made me feel hopeful. Powerful.
We have been stuck in powerlessness for so long. Dependent on God/Spirit for light and love. But now, with our very own light, we'll NEVER be hungry again. Even if he hates us, we don't have to fear dying from lack of his light. We won't ever be that helpless again. That means we can believe. And because we can believe, we can create.
We can do it now!! I felt a shift. Something shifted in me.
Passion. I have some new orange/red parts here. Delicious dreams. Different from any sexual feelings I've ever had before. Desire PLUS. Passion.
But I'm afraid of it. That's what got us into trouble in the first place. Somewhere in the RUOW books god talks about how vibrating Will draws in enough spirit light to be alive here. If our Will doesn't draw and hold enough light, we die.
But if that was the original plan - that Will would desire and draw Spirit to her - then the plan was flawed. The very thing that could have - should have - kept us alive is the thing he hated most in us. The thing he punished us for first, right out of the gate.
Many of my motherbody parts remember stealing light. Hating him for withholding what we needed, and exercising power by pulling in his light against his will. Gleefully. But unloving light is not food we can eat.
And then there's the conundrum. We need light. We got hurt by the light. We closed ourselves off. Now we're dying. We must open to get light so we can live. But opening means pain.
I am so grateful for this gift of light from my E.M. It means we don't have to cross that line. We don't have to steal light anymore. And we don't have to deal with our terror of the light all at once just to be able to live. And it means we don't have to draw in light against its will. That galls me a lot. That in order to live, we have to drag the light in, kicking and screaming. Goddamit, I want him to WANT us, as much as we want him... NEED us, as much as we need him!! Where is his need? Did he fragment out all his need and desire and fear of aloneness into Lucifer?
Part Four - Gaps and More Gaps