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Personal Sharings / Healing Fragmentation
Two things happened this morning. Memory of being Ghash in space, in the void, floating in the dark. My E.M. comes and touches me, lightly. The light from his touch spreads over my body, rippling outward. Like in that Star Trek movie where the planet gets regenerated by the Genesis thingee. And I felt it, in my body. I felt myself arching and rippling, leaning into it like a cat being petted. I felt the soothing blissful RELIEF of pain. Fuck-N-A!!!
Then I drifted into self-hate. Nobody could possibly love me. Fat, old, ugly. And I heard him say "I will stay with you." I argued with him, "I can't do it, I can't change this body, I'm fat and hideous and useless and powerless." He says I'm not. And again, he said "I will stay with you."
Can he see inside me to something valuable? Can he be so sure he will desire me? He seems so sure. He just keeps saying "I will stay with you."
The problem is light. Getting light down underground. How to get more coming in, without overwhelming myself with triggers. I can only cry as much as I can cry at one time.
I saw the light E.M. gave us in a bowl. Ghash drank from it and I saw the light running through her roots, starting at the tiniest tendrils of roots and spreading, following roots to trunk, and up the trunk, and down the many branches and out to the leaves. The leaves, the poor brown lifeless leaves, became green as the light slowly spread through their veins, bringing them life.
I've been moving a new layer of stuff. Ghash relating to E.M. and Spirit in a new way. Once when I was crying, I felt them together, and I was able to get into a pocket of the need and rage/need. I saw a house floating in the void (briefly thought of Dorothy's house, tossed by tornado) and the door opened and a mother and father welcomed me in. They held me and let me cry and fed me. They let me cry, and I did. Buckets and buckets of need. "Let me need you, I'm so hungry!"
It was something of a turning point. Since then I've gotten new and deeper levels of her pain and memories. More of the void. More from the blast. More and more I'm crying TO him, or raging AT him, my E.M. - who now feels like he has god with him. And in my meditations too, he's always there. He promises not to leave me. He promises to stay and hear my pain, no matter what. Even when I get angry at him.
Last week I had a meditation that was really good. I felt myself as a tree, filtering the light with my leaves, bringing in only loving light. The light from motherbody was also being drawn upward from my roots, and the two met in my heart. It was like a mini-nuclear explosion when they met, like fireworks, sparks, magic that spread through every cell. I felt so ... expanded. So much ... MORE!
But then almost immediately my neck started freezing up on me. And the last few sessions I've had my neck seize up on me too. Each time I started to cry, I'd get this frozen clench all along one side, strangling me. When I stopped crying, my neck relaxed again. It was weird.
I finally realized I've got a bunch of terror trying to hold my rage down, keep the rage from speaking. I'm so afraid I'll drive him away. Once I realized what it was, I could cry it. So much terror. It almost exploded out of me.
My neck has been fine since then.
I'm pendulum swinging. Compulsive/obsessive/frantic searching for love and reassurance, to maudlin self-pity and self-hate that says I'm shit, less than shit, must go away, must die.
In the middle of the swinging, in the center of the arc, there is this little ... blip.
I finally made myself stop and look at it.
It's his hatred of me. It's a horribly vulnerable place in my heart that is hideously wounded from feeling his hatred of me. I need bigger words. It's such a raw, vulnerable place. There's some shock in it, a feeling of being punched in the gut and unable to breathe. Frozen shock, hurt, pain, knowing his hatred, FEELING his hatred.
A scenario played out. A memory? I saw a cold, Ahriman-like aspect of God, holding the hilt of a sword or knife. The blade was broken. He denies having stabbed me, shows me the broken knife as proof. See? he says. How could I stab you with a broken blade?
But the blade is buried in my heart. The wound has closed and the blood has dried and I have no proof. He can deny that he hates me, it doesn't matter. I know he hates me, because I'm holding it, I'm holding his hatred.
The smallest sign of dislike for me triggers deep survival terror imprints. The smallest sign of anger at me tweaks this blip, this hidden wound. The bells start ringing, signaling the end is near, pain approacheth.
My story always has the same ending. I've spent this lifetime trying to rewrite the ending. Trying to do it all "right", to circumvent the inevitable. It does no good, the story always ends the same.
Gapping with R.
I had to go back and reread the emails. I'm frozen in the blip. Rage tries to pry me loose from the rock of terror, but ... hell, I guess I needed the FoM trigger. I have been so afraid of these triggers, of this rage and terror. I'm afraid if I bring this stuff to my E.M. directly, he'll leave. So it's easier to get the triggers through other FoM fragments. Is that true? It feels a little true. But there's something else here too, that I can't quite figure out.
Finally was able to cry. I had to reread the letters again, and then sort of give myself a pep talk. I feel so sick. Chills and shaking, very primordial, very physical. It's Motherbody vs. FoM in the void, and it's a life or death struggle. All mixed up, a jumble of pain and rage and terror and need and the shock of him hating us, and heartbreak and on and on...
Then a sort of defeat.
There was so much endless hunger in the void. Then we came to be part of this creation somehow. And hope rose up a bit. But then at some point we realized that life here is really not better than alone and starving. It's just a different kind of pain. Being alive is... PAIN.
Day Two in Hell. More email triggers. Christ. I exploded. Such rage!! I was down on the floor of my office, pounding on the concrete, screaming into a pillow. Scared the dogs and peed my pants.
Then I curled in on myself and cried such heavy grief. He'll never love me. I'll never get his approval. He won't listen, he judged me and walked away. I MUST stop hoping. And that hurts, that aches.
Now I feel sort of in a state of shock. I had to go to the store. I don't know how I did it. I felt sort of disconnected from my life, from this reality. If felt like over-the-edge hopelessness. BEYOND hopeless. I thought I'd felt hopelessness before, but this was so much more.
Somewhere in the tidal wave of tears that went off and on all day, I found a dark streak. An aspect of Aboveground Sister, I think. A part that vowed never to be powerless or invisible again. She plots and steals light and works dark majicks.
Through all this, rage kept wanting to get up and write scathing emails. I felt rage wanting to leave me if I didn't let her speak. I was so afraid, I didn't want to fragment, but every time I send an email I only get myself deeper into trouble. I found myself talking and crying to my E.M., asking for help.
"Give it to me," he says.
Oh god, that was such a wonderful gift. He gave me an image of himself to rage at, like a big FoM doll, and a sledge hammer to pound it with. A knife to stab it with. And he stayed with me, encouraging me, allowing it, and reassuring me through it all that he would stay with me. So instead of scathing emails, I cried and stabbed and smashed and killed.
But then by late afternoon I decided to go ahead and let her speak. She has a point of view that is valid... and a desire to protect that is valid. She's a GOOD part of me. Not healed yet, but getting better.
I regretted it, of course. Right after I sent the email I started shaking head to toe. I thought it was more rage, but when I started to cry, it was terror. Stark terror. I curled into a ball on the floor by the bed and cried and shook - "he's gonna kill me, he's gonna find me and kill me!"
What a day. I feel a little more like myself finally. I think maybe I'll be able to sleep.
Still gapped with R. No resolution at all. He insists I am completely at fault, and he's just the innocent victim. He has no responsibility in this gap at all. And it turns out he stopped reading my emails some time ago. What a huge trigger!!! His blanket condemnation of me feels so fucking unfair!!!
And what a perfect recreation of some Original Cause.
I am looking at the past... at the cold, hard face of FoM in the void. He has no loving response for me at all. No softness, no opening. He is a hard, cold, closed space, a stone wall of judgments, hatred of me, wanting me to be gone. He sees me as a manipulative, ever-victim, who uses my pain to punish him and make him the bad guy... a self-aggrandizing she-demon, who actually creates perpetrators so I can play victim and then blame him for it.
Ha! He hates the victim in me, but there he is with his hand to his forehead, playing victim to the hilt.
Shit. This is bigger than I can deal with, bigger than I can figure out.
All I can do is keep crying the pain and hope it clears up in time.
Part Five - A Fragment of FoM