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Personal Sharings / Healing Fragmentation
How hard it is to let this part speak...|
For a long time I have felt less-than and unworthy to be the Mother... to be even a part of the Mother. I have felt ashamed, and shamed by you, by all of you. I want to say some things and I want you to listen to me, to try to listen to me with your hearts open, especially you my sisters in the yang polarity.
In the beginning times when we took in so much damage and split in so many ways, we disagreed on how to deal with God's hatred and disapproval. We tried to find ways to survive, but we had no real understanding of what we needed to do to heal the wounds we had. We had no real understanding that we needed to express all our pain in order to heal and find our alignment again, so that we could remain whole.
Maybe if we had been able to stay together, we might have had some chance of withstanding the long years of blows and tortures and blame and judgments laid on the Will polarity.
I don't blame either of us for the splitting that occurred. We each took a stance and believed our own point of view to be the right one. We each believed our own way of coping and surviving was the correct one. We were both wrong.
But since then, down the long years, I have taken so much damage and lost so much to you, my yang sisters, in war after war... that I have not been able to stay standing up, and if we do not find healing with each other, I will not be able to stand up for much longer.
And all of you heart children, to all of you I have to say that I hate you as much as I hate God.
You believed that rage would save you, and so you aligned yourselves with yang mother against me. You treated me not just as useless baggage, but as the enemy. You held her up before me as the "true" mother, as the Queen, as one I should be worshipping and following. Me! Worship her?!
I tried to fight and take my place, or at least be seen as equal to her. I only earned your venom. You accused me again and again of trying to dethrone your goddess, and life after life you pushed me back and down, made me live as outcast, with no legitimate voice to be heard. Defeated and broken-hearted, I groveled and collapsed, and crawled into holes and caves.
The greatest defeat was losing your love, of seeing you turn from me with scorn and hatred, and embrace yang mother rather than me, again and again. And my hatred for her, and you, grew and festered.
Even those of you who did not align with yang mother's rage began to hate me.
You saw me as weak, spineless, unable to help myself, let alone help you survive. You hated me there, and you did not help me. You only nursed me occasionally out of guilt, guilt which I did my best to lay at your door, because it was the only nourishment I ever got. But when guilt spreads thin, your hatred shows through the veneer again, and I feel it, and I feel ashamed. I am ashamed of my YIN-ness, such a weak useless mother in your eyes. An ever-victim that you cannot stand to listen to whining one more minute. I am ashamed.
But listen to me, you ungrateful hateful horrible people! I am gaining ground. I have healed with some of my yang essence. Together we are growing stronger and our heart is growing larger and more capable of beating and giving love. Do you want this love? Or will you continue to align with my rage against me?
I know, I know I have no right to ask for your allegiance. I am mortified by my own desire to ask it. I am afraid. I hear the voices that have whispered down the long years -- who do I think I am? I am not the mother, I am only a small part of the mother. I am the weakest part of the mother. The needy, the sensitive, the heart. Scorned and spat on by rage mother, scorned and turned out by the children who align with her.
But I carry a burning furnace of rage in my breast too, don't think I don't. I carry a rage that you never will see me, that you never will hear me. That you will always love the yang first and better, that your allegiance will ever be to rage and your scorn is all I will ever have. My rage wants to rip her eyes out, tear her hair out by its roots and let her bleed to death on the floor. The cold floor where she had me stoned to death. My rage wants to strip her of her stolen power and sparkling magic, make you see, make you see how empty her promises are, make you see ... ME!!!!
But you won't.
What do you see? You see my attacks on her and you think I am the heartless one. You think my rage at her is unjustified. You know nothing of my pain.
Deep down in my heart I believe I am a sham, a useless mother, undeserving of the name, ashamed to even have these feelings.
Deep down in my heart I believe there can never be more than one of us.
And I am ashamed that I have feelings that I want it to be me.
It has never been me. And it has never been both of us. There has never been a time when you could see both of us. It has always been a war. She cannot share the throne. Can I? I don't know. I can't stand her cruelty. And I am jealous of your love for her. The things I lack are the things she is. And she will never ever let me forget that. She will never cease calling me names and showing you my weaknesses and morbid victimness.
And so, once again, I raise my head up from the mud and capture a little bit of yang and a little bit of light, stolen light, and I go in search of my tormenter, the thief who has stolen my place, my children, my life, and my love. I go in search of her to kill her and destroy her and punish her for taking that which is rightfully mine!!!!
And once again, I am cast down.
Scorned, defeated, stoned to death, shunned.
I can't seem to learn this lesson. Because she has so much more yang essence than I do, she can stay standing for much longer than I can. She has more rage than I do, and her heart, what there is of it, is not so easily wounded as mine is. Her skin is much tougher. My sensitivity is her guarantee of success. This is a war I can never win. Why do I keep trying? Why don't I just stay down in the earth where I belong, a nothing, a nobody, leave the planet to this heartless witch you all call Mother. Why does my rage keep pushing me to fight against her?
You want her. You deserve her.
I wish I had somewhere else to go.
I wish I didn't feel all these things.
I wish I didn't want to be the Mother.
I wish I could die.
Oh, I hear your hatred of me now. Don't I just. "Look at her, playing her pitiful games, playing victim again, feeling sorry for herself, whining, can't even get up off the floor."
I hate you, I hate you merciless and heartless children, I hate you yang sisters. And I don't care anymore what you think of that!
You can all go to hell.
The pattern has repeated itself in this way, over and over, time after time. I want it to end, I want it to stop. I want you to see me and love me and know me. I have value. I am not an endless victim. I deserve your love! I am working so hard to heal all these things.
The sadness I feel right now is that ... as I bring in more and more yang essence, I feel you sometimes looking at me with more respect, and more love. I feel your eyes sometimes turning to me. But ... as soon as I collapse into my sensitiveness again, which I can't help but do, you turn from me again. You try not to, but I feel you wishing I would just stay on my feet. I feel you scorning my collapse, the weakness of it, the fear in it.
And that only reinforces that my YIN self is not what you want, not what you can love.
It feels like a trap I can't get out of, a catch-22 of pain.
I want to cry all this pain, I want to heal myself in spite of you all. I want to regain my ability to stand and fly... and then I want to leave here. I want to leave you all to rot in your own shit, to stew in your own acid juices. I hate you all. You who have never helped me but only given me hatred and guilt and shame. I hate you all.
The saddest thing of all is that you seem to like it when I get angry at you like this. It thrills you to see some sign of life and caring in me. But you don't see the heartbreak, and you don't see the pain you cause by your lack of acceptance of all the yin of me.
Sadder still is that I cannot keep hating you. I cannot stop loving you, any of you, all of you. I wish I could.
a piece of yin mother