Saturn is NOT Satan: Disassembling the link between RITUAL ABUSE and CEREMONIAL MAGICK

Lessons as a daughter of Saturn: 

20.12.23 

I just wanted to confess that im a practioner of ceremonial magick and I am also a survivor of ritual abuse. 
I’ve wanted to say that for so long but ironically, have not had anywhere to put that kind of information without facing backlash.
Now I don’t care. 
Saturn moving into Pisces means let it flow. 
Let it flow to grow;
I strongly wanted to start in the realm of Saturn, as I am a dominant Saturn (followed by extremely Venusian, then Jupiterian) dominant. I was born on a Saturday. 

While I am not formally initiated or mounted in vodou, I have become extremely welcomed by the spirits over here in the tradition, when I started to practice ancestor veneration in conjunction with spiritism in grief and desperation in December 2019. (Happy 4 years). 
It followed by an extremely vivid shared dream, and a series of synchronicities that lead me to my  first Door opening Legba Working in 2020 which I was laying in m study, next to my altar, half asleep in the early hours of the morning on January 21-25th 2020. I was consorting with a large owl/cockatoo female saint spirit called Rosa Isabella. My roommate had a similar dream but on a whole other level that cannot be written without his own experience.

We shared our experiences later that day I went on google and instantly found a Saint that shared my birthday and my sisters birthday as her veneration day. 

She was celebrated in the country I had dreamt about visiting since I was 11. (Peru) Saint Rosa of Lima. 

From this day onward, I was spiritually, accepted, Saint George, or Sigurd (a Germanic/Teutonic Ancestral and Indo European Spirit) as I had come to call him, opened the Temple of Rebellion on the 26th of January 2020, and declared it formally foundational and ready to be formed in reality. 
That was the same day the Corona-virus drop formally hit the media here in Australia. I remember calling the coronavirus hotline after walking back from the local swimming pool with Jonathan after a horrible experience and telling them the real virus was the “pedophile” not the “made up synthetic lab made corona lie” generated all over the news that afternoon. 
I hung up the phone and hoped this too, would dissipate like the sars, bird flu, Ebola and other biowarfare pandemics manipulated in acts of bioterrorism. 
Something about the large number of bats in the sky that summer, and the summer 2019-2020 bushfires that were apocalyptic and choking the Sydney and suburbs with smoke for months afterward, in addition to the rollout of 5G and my recent growth into a new spiritual lineage that was combating the attack of Saskia and Sparky dying in addition to all the lifetime of trauma and pain I’ve endured. 

All this made me dubious about the fleeting nature of this Disease X. 
Also, Jeffery Epstein, Prince Andrew and Issac Kaapy and the way they blew up in the mainstream media when it came out. Just before the Covid-19 pandemic came to be we had the rising undercurrent of the global pedophile networking finally coming to fruition, wonderful spiritual underground workings forged in tempest of fury and fire by a order I carried a feminine current of from a county in solidarity to hopefully one day pass on to others. (I have actually taught two other fully functioning male members, but I mean females here).

Anti pedophile network awareness on a global scale must of been a scare for the elite ? 

 

The Temple of Rebellion was Formed under the fires of Summer 2019 and the prehistoric climax of the never ending apocalyptic Covid-19 tsunami.

This is the unending current that the spirits were waiting for, I walked home from the pool barefoot in the rain, Thor banging thunder and rage of my inner child having flashbacks in my childhood town in my veins. (When will I BE FREE). 

People have to learn to see things outside the scope of the limits language has given them. I learnt that in those years living there. 

Religion, magick, both are spiritually rooted but what matters is your intent. 
I can be an evil occultist. But I can be an evil clergyman. 
Or I can be both. 
Some of the most evil corrupt people are highly religious. Some are also ritualistic. But why does magick have to be synonymous with evil?
Isn’t that playing into the energy your abusers and programmers want you to believe? 
They want you to believe you don’t have the power of being the god/goddess that prime creator himself intended you to harness within yourself. 
We all do. 
We have that innate spark. We are born of prime creator ourselves. Our abusers want us to be feeling disconnected and split off from the god energy. 
They want you trapped, insecure, disconnected, enslaved & living in confusion, turmoil, hatred, chaos, depression, pain, & fear. 

I acknowledge these feelings and energies are valid and real and seek solutions to transmute them. 
I’m not forcing anyone to take up any tradition or magick. 
Right now I want to voice something have held in for a long time. 
Ritual abuse survivor and being a ceremonial magician are a difficult path to walk. 
Uncommon, please, if anyone else is there , let me know as I face the backlash alone as far as I can see in my 10 year journey. 
For now 
I’m just saying to avoid jumping into my space and judging my practices I use for my healing and that have been implemented and tested under the time and tension of Saturn for a decade now. 
In 2024 February I’ll be a 10 year old ceremonial magician practitioner. (Not a neophyte anymore). I don’t know how to feel about it magically. But psychologically and emotionally I am so relieved I chose to go this way instead of staying trapped in the CPTSD and dissociated mess I was lost in before I went into the path I walked down now. I tried religion. I went there time and time again. I tried the new age. I tried almost everything to heal my sexual abuse. I tried therapy. I did 3 years of intensive dialectical behaviour therapy group programs. I’ve done 11 or 12 over a month by month intensive upscale inpatient psychiatric inpatient programs. I’ve had the medications. The CBT. The ACT.  Brainspotting. I’ve had the psychiatrists. The bad and good different range of decades of therapists. I’m getting EMDR now and doing Fiona Barnetts protocol in addition to my own. She is a very valuable practioner who needs to be revered as a clinician in any way she can for what she has shared and how it has helped me. 
Thank you Fiona Barett. (And she is also a born again Christian but one of the cool, non judgemental, open minded ones who don’t make you feel dumb for having different views outside the realm of the Christ theology). 
*** 
Back in 2017 being on both sides of the practicing and client Fiona saved my life so many times. 
 messed me up badly when it went wrong, because I was honest, and my ex therapist was a pro-pedophile, Frank Houston supporting Hillsong church revering cruel and vindictive new type of evil I’d never encountered before. 
In all these dark moments when all hope was lost and suicide was my only solution (programming) magick (a specific current I will share in time) and listening to Fiona Barnett saved my life. 
But my lesson is to never do that to someone else’s soul. Especially if they expose deep secrets and show vulnerability. 
The worst thing to then continue to do is to have the audacity to call yourself trauma aware. 
It’s so far from reality you couldn’t fathom trauma if you had it slapped across your sensory system for the next ten years. 
He had no capacity or insight to any trauma I shared and I will forever wear that pain as not only the first time I went though the trauma as a child and young adult, but the secondary and third and forth rebounding traumas I felt when I was rejected in a therapeutic context. While studying and trying to work as a therapist. 
A course he told me to study to work with him. The ultimate gaslighting and fuck around might get killed move someone has ever inflicted. But I’m so glad I did it. 
I will never forget or forgive people who hurt others like that, and that ripped my soul apart. So it’s time to create what was supposed to be a beautiful and joyful experience after I finished my counselling degree and merge back into my psychology bachelor. 
That was stripped away due to ineffective and fruitless therapy. It was raped like the 10 other rapes I wrote in that stupid timeline I sent to him in an email I wish I’d never sent. 
But this rape was probably the worst kind of rape I’ve ever been through. It was a rape of the soul. 
All because I questioned his leader, Brian Houston, being involved in the royal commission, linked to his feather, Frank Houston, a known Pedophile. We all know the story about that. 
Another example where organised religion pushes out dogma and judgement in my life instead of acceptance or healing. (I’ll go into that story more another time because it is a long one and cumbersome). 
So in terms of creating safe spaces why not operate under the trauma informed care paradigm…?

Organised religion is also, of this nature. GENERALLY.. 
It has the holier than thou dogma, that you, if you are engaged in any occultic doctrine NO MATTER WHAT, should be condemned. 
that in my opinion, is just as bad as being a non religious judgemental person. 
Religious or not, anyone who is judging anyone based on their beliefs and practices that are not harming others. 
I mean genuinely judgmental and condescending dogmatic language, not light hearted or joking. 

My question is - 

Who are you to judge someone by the practices they preach without knowing what they bear inside themselves ?
If you chose to pray and practice a Christian religion I have no concern you practice or believe in your brief.
Why do you pick apart and dissect the most minute and diminutive parts of mine? 
Question : 
For survivors of ritual abuse and trauma based mind control ;
finding a source of healing and control can be liberating and it may look like religion.
In others it can look like something like the new age. 
or for others it can come in spirituality of planetary based divine humanism ceremonial magick. 

I am often excluded from ritual abuse survivor groups due to being an almost decade practicing ceremonial magician and that is something that hurts my soul. 

I’m not an evil person. 
I don’t hex, curse or practice baneful magick. I venerate and heal, engage in elevated and purified spiritual practices. 
but the moment they see that side of my life I’m condemned and judged, unfollowed, blocked and ridiculed in other groups because o simply have a spiritual practice I find healing that is wholesome, pure and protective. 
I think this is unfair. I think it’s honestly retraumatising in a way and it pains the community as dogmatic and judgemental and unsafe for all survivors. 

I think if everyone is a consenting, anti pedophile, safe and open minded, non violent, compassionate,  mature, open to healing, growth, willing to learn adult who is recovering from ritual abuse and trauma why would it matter if they are practicing magick, interested in astrology, and have found a decade long practice that WORKS? 

We are all against the same PAEDOPHILIC GLOBALIST enemy here. 

We are all wanting the same outcome so we need to focus on that and work together because a “A HOUSE DIVIDED AGAINST ITSELF WILL FALL” . (Isn’t that the Bible)?

Especially (and I am not saying this in any way to be elitist) when the other members are coming in as new and only recovering memories in the last 1-2 years. 

Just because I don’t share my story all over the internet doesn’t mean it isn’t there. It can be tracks if you know how to stalk, and interpret in between the lines. 

I have excelled at being locked out and deleting my own blogs from the past, and the nature of dissociative identity disorder and cptsd is to hide the dissociation from the public eye as much as possible. 

That is the nature of the programming. 

But I have blogs dating back probably to the middle of high school and it’s probably still all there if you could read the old internet you’d find a treasure trove of interesting parts of my old selves. I often wish I could see what my parts used to do because I don’t remember. 
I digress. 

It’s exclusive. The best Christians I’ve met are those who don’t need to exclude everyone else for the notion of them not being Christian. But for the record, by technicality, 

I’m a Christian, I believe in God, I also believe Nature is God. I believe in Prime Creator. 
I believe in the living energy of the universe. (Pantheism I think they call it). I believe in energy. The divine energy of prime creeeror that is greater than all that is the source of all living things and that is all there is, and the living world around us (nature, animals, biosphere, elements, trees, birds, ocean, earth, plants, fruit ). 

I’m very connected to energy.
I love sacred spaces in nature and worship the beauty I find in the world. 
I love animals and think they are the most wonderful beings alive in many ways. I speak to them as I would pray to a “god”. 

In terms of gods and goddess, i venerate them in a way of invoking the energy into my life and living it via a heroine or warrior goddess journey. In transpersonal psychology we have an inner masculine counterpart called the animus, I invoke the male energy to work with the god energy in this way. 

If I call in a masculine or feminine energy for evocation, it’s done for a great veneration and celebration for the wonderful energies of these beautiful stories and archetypes can often be understood by honouring the mysteries in our real life in living the mystery.   
They can reach us by showing us. 
I want people to be more open towards trauma informed awareness and accepting that not all things synonymous with magick are equal to evil. 

There is nothing evil or inverted about my spiritual path and it’s the purest, most elevated and clean current I can find energetically. 
So before you judge because of a word in the English language open your mind and realise I’m also staring back at you and have the same ability but I’m not doing that. 

Why are you so eager to place a set of labels, identifying  me in a way that places me in a category consecrated by a major religion? 
When religion is a major form of kind control and the primary programming tool is mind control, and the goal of breaking programming is to overcome the mind control? 

How is anything being broken when it’s only being replaced by something equally, if not, more dogmatic? 

I love helping others and making spaces that others can heal from the heinous horrors of trauma based mind control and ritual abuse and the many nervous system and sensory dysfunctions that come with the territory. 
I have encompassing energy flow and empathy but have built my walls high so I won’t engage with people who are not aligned to a authentic self inside. 

I have helped the process flow but they have to be receptive to that, it’s honestly exhausting, and I prefer for that reason, to keep to myself, unless people are attuned to a similar path and I can truly be in my authentic self. 
I’m in a healing and transforming phase. I have endured a lot of intense and very real and very intense pain in my life. 

I don’t play games or mess around for internet clout or the next sensation. This isn’t a game for me. This is my life and i believe all survivors at face value because I see the best in everyone and hate when people have been knowingly deceptive for other motives. It’s hurtful.

If people have genuinely endured this pain why are you still trying to unconsciously cause drama by being unnecessarily hostile and dogmatic over something like religion in a community with mentally ill and traumatised individuals who are survivors of trauma based mind control & ritual abuse? 

Enough. Follow trauma informed care practice or leave the community and go and embrace the community you can be safe to follow your religious philosophy in freely openly like a church. Please. Go. Away. 

L.V 

SEX & DEATH

 
27/2/09 - SEX and DEATH.

 
“ Two greatest obsessions and motivating forces that drive humanity"
 

Liberation
Enchantment
Evocation
Invocation
Divination
Gnosis
 
The truth exists within the symbolic crevices that are ridden throughout the history that my soul has withstood.
 that dark encoaxing misery that used to ride my soul and inject my heart with the most vile and toxic infestation of venom, has been replaced by the warmth of this splendorous embrace that can only match the definition that they call happiness. 
 
But misery would be an ongoing hell if happiness had not shown its face. 
 
I now understand why suffering is needed for anything good to be worth something.
 
For ying and yang presents the fact that all things have this soul which was split in two. Duality. 
 
Shattered with the line that drives the divide of dark and light, black and white, day and night. 
Thus, I have lived a life with my soul in accordance to a broken duality juxtaposed upon itself  in patterns without end. 
 
I'm deeply split. To the core. 

 
Last night I took a final walk and endured that the burden of his ghastly fixation that broke my heart, mind and soul in the most bitter desperation was a fragment of the past which I see as a once rumbling volcano, now lies dormant and repressed.
 but considered for it was the power I sucked from the "love" he ensnared which brought me the insight to dissolve the "reality" which used to attempt to skin me alive and slaughter the blazing fire inside with its mind-numbing hide and buildings made on a foundation of lies. Maybe I can build a city from the ashes.  
 
For our connection that retied and tied and wired strings that were trying not to spill the surging potential that hid within was smashed by the illusion he buried on my skin as he drove the syringe of poison in. 
 
The never-ending spiralling staircase to oblivion was extracted, and replaced with a vision that dissolved the meaningless division into a curious and clear journey that would broaden my scope for wisdom.
 
It is time to grow and evolve. 
 
For an indefinite length of time, my mind had been fed with contaminated lies and the misleading guide that our society provides and slides across humanity's eyes. 
 
I was sick with my disguises.
 
My obvious isolation and disheartened soul blackened with a slab of misinformation was the perfect equation of self-eradication, 
for when one is made to feel like such a disgusting degradation life becomes a purposeless humiliation. 
 
Suppression of all that surged within beating and hounding my heart for a means of release, denial of my insides resulted in apathetic bliss. 
 
I was building on the hope of an outsider's momentous sacrifice. 
 
The majority's quest for an enslaving demise. 
But for the years I spent locked in the dark, I could only feel half of my murmuring heart, I never felt at home being herded with the masses, nor belonging as one.
I always felt something was missing.
 I'm an outsider, who was cast out from the in;
something to circle the sea of what humanity thrives off with an electrifying glee and eccentric conditions. 
On the edge of surrender to the fucking pretender my spiral that could've ended with a lifeless teenage melancholic drama queens suicidal body smashing across the rocks;
swept up by the surging and chaotic currents that lament the rolling and glistening oceanic seas of this divine planet.
for my path was snared in the glassy endurance of a wave that is destined to climb and fall in the rising motion of the labile tides of time under tension,
It carried my lifeless body and as the sway of the rolling waves droned on for what seemed like an eternity of days until my fog-ridden haze was spread with the brightest daze, 
a mixture of chemical-induced craze on top of sweet-tasting riddles that caused my heart to sizzle, 
even when the coldest winter days, 
made that shiver turn into a body-shaking quiver. 
 
That burst of the divine alchemical riddle was an elixir I could never not chase. 
 
For a moment, the dark cold was kept away by his temporary embrace and with each perfectly delivered line my heart was degaussed and the catatonic mask was carefully removed, although in the end I was failed by him again and again. 
In the end, 
I am embraced by my inner animus, and his voice melted into my brain and taught me how to do the things I couldn't before. 
Now I am engulfed by the transfiguration of the chemical equation merging my sense of self from the old into the new, again and again, the journey, unending.
 
I do thank the correlation that provided the key to turn in the lock concealed under that heavily burdened block, the key to perceive.
 
It was a short journey inclined to shock and jolt my insides to a wide-eyed plight, 
The initiation of my darkest night of the soul, 
burning with passion to light the lack of sight covering my eyes. 
 
His warm comforting arms wrapped so perfectly around me that it wasn't hard to seethe with the exhilarating fury that engulfed as he walked away from me. 
But as I tumbled from the rapture of that well-documented capture that was brutal and beautiful enough to paint a fine and divine tunnel that entwined and ventured through even the most infinite divides and ranges that are embedded in one subconscious mind, for he showed my heart how to examine the picture that ones imagination indents in a bewildered whisper, when I learnt how to see an objective perception every motherfucking misconception was redefined and shown how to find the path that follows one's mind. I was hit by the illusion that brought me the path toward a fusion - for I will banish this disillusion!
 
Journey Inside
 

For each wicked laughing demon I hide 
Legions inside mirrors behind
with an intent to deride the underlying thirst that burns so intense, 
like an enchanted forest devoured by a flaming fire, 
Imagine as each shred of once untainted greenery is burnt to a crispy ash without mercy its once lively desire is slashed! 
The potential to quench this rampaging dryness that coats my insides like a heat-fueled desire is limited, 
when I opt to escape what instigates and manipulates its dirt-ridden traits trying to keep my eyes blinded like a good piece of bait. 
For when I run like a coward and try to escape hate I turn the potential for love and throw it away. I am darkness, 

I AM DEATH, I AM HATE. 

I am blessed, I am okay. 
Each dark-driven desire in turn provides the power to ignite into a bright and white light. 
That will crackle with delight and fill me with insight, 
each demon that doesn’t go buried and denied is worth 
the temporary snide for eventually it will share its will to slide down that spiral slide that is a cherished ride full of wisdom that hides power and knowledge, 
for once it was required that each sparking ignite that surged in flight was forced to endure a fight as it struggled to remain 
as a single complete charge that could spin and win 
with the energising whim of two polar extremes that existed within,
providing this powerful completion, that was more coherent 
than a puzzle pieced together,
or ordinary weather. 
Habits were provoked to evoke and the true nature awoke 
as each surge was callously drawn apart from the complete, 
full circular whirring spin.
It was just existing within and like a painful separation, 
all that existed was diced, split down the centre in a single slice! 
Roll the dice, splice, twice!
 
The surging spin had lost the fully charged whim and these disillusioned particles were injected with what we call rejection, a lost and molested abandoned product of separation, 
These molecular charges longed for reunification for the hand that would mould perfectly into yours, a fusing but eternally painful quest to regain the original equation of what adds to draw together as one from the first hint of separation the hole that follows began to evolve and it was then the split mould was given away to unfold in what manifested into day and night, black and white. The dark and the light that divides the essence of this life.
 
So what I'm trying to describe is how opposing forces have been summoned to a sleepless slur that will cause a havoc but invisible stir, 
 
Day brings the light and is followed by night which presents us with dark, is not a surprise that black contrasts with white for death follows life and my ultimate desire is to overrule this water racing against fire by dissolving away oblivious to the seductive sway of beautiful decay. 
 
This never-ending switch turns on and off but never stops,
 until one admits that everything apparent is also split, 
into an opposing glitch that threads the stitch that weaves together the fabricated illusion due to their disillusion, 
for they trick their minds to feel the impact of the programming.
 
Break the duality, the dichotomy is juxtaposed but both can exist as one creating the trinity, as Pythagoras once spoke of, the constructive angles that create the designs of the structures we build the blocks of our foundations in.
Build a way out.
 
humans, mostly, instead of being real and uncovering all that is reeled away out of grasp so they live blissfully in a heap of bullshit and tell themselves this two dimensional construct of a reality paradigm is all there is. 
it's a program engineered to manipulate your senses engineering your consciousness for the power-money-asset-controller pyramid point that control the resources, media, food, energy, information, land, all aspects of governance by design by design. (UN/AGENDA21/NWO)
 
its fact!
 
To be wise enough to override the lies is not for the weak or the cowards who are meek as the false foundations that formulate the lies are the only haven in which one might find that euphoric carefree splendour that laments a fictitious conclusion.
 
This is a trap, the illusion of democracy comes under the illusion of duality and corresponds to the myth of determinism/fate style philosophical modules of thought. 
 
FREE-WILL is what all reasonable humans should exercise, but not without both introspective and self-reflection and Socratic and intellectual discussion. 
 
Thinking from a macro-cosmic view, or a meta-view is also a way to engage in a deeper understanding of reality. 
 

**** NOTE FROM 2023:

 

I write this in 2023 after reading the 2009 journal entry that appears to be one of my first "magick journal" entries above working from "Liber Null & Psychonaut" by Peter Carroll.

 i was 17 years old and still had the foresight to know somehow to keep a magickal journal because i didn't know, i was a born magician/psychic/medium/spiritist.

.

 I had no “conscious” involvement in magickal work until a few years after this, (evidence says otherwise)when i was practicing daily ceremonial magick and since then i keep a strict magick journal that helps me piece together cause and effect. 

I don't understand anyone who claims to be a serious magician and not even log the most basic workings down in a notebook, it baffles to my core. If you can't write then type it but keep it private, why share everything you do?

Thinking from a macro-cosmic view, or a meta-view is also a way to engage in a deeper understanding of reality. 

 

Many people even today, be it in the alternative media, conspiracy, occult, magick, or community do not engage in healthy levels of both intellectual discourse and self-introspection that is without evocative, shouting emotionally jacked up opinions from the rooftop style social media commentary.

I am going back to analyse and reflect on my many years of shadow work and see the weakness and strength of character to build on in my present state. 

 

Say your truth on social media, but keep in mind, that journaling and keeping private notes and records of things is a timeless art that thousands of years worth of sorcerers stored into well-preserved (albeit often mega cryptographed) grimoires. 

I am also going back to these old journals as an exercise of introspection and self reflection, and because I wasn't properly practicing evocation per-say, I am happy to share my writing because I can now look at it in retrospect as the start of a very long dark night of the soul journey. I can no longer write the poetry of Chronzon, or the tunnels of set, so I ascribe myself the task of auditing them to understand my ordeals through the Qlioppth. 

 

KEEP IN MIND THIS IS WRITTEN FROM 2009, I was a teenager. 

NOT 2023. EDITED IN 2023. 

 

 

QOAW.

Note to Self

You won’t mysteriously wake up one morning cured from a mental illness, it doesn’t work that way. Life is a battle. Every single day for the remainder of your life is going to be a battle, a fight not only against yourself but also the remainder of society.

But you have to treasure and appreciate the little things about life and savor them, separate yourself from the consensus and reinvent yourself in alignment to your heart’s desire and the will of your soul.

You are here, you are alive, you are breathing. Feel the oxygen rejuvenate your lungs. Feel the sunshine radiating warmth upon your skin. This is it. There is no supreme epiphany awaiting realisation. There is no masqueraded savior coming to rescue you from the despair that swallows you alive. 

If you feel like you’re wandering around this planet aimlessly, then it is your mission to create meaning in the meaningless, vacant void of the abyss. Discover your passion and pursue it relentlessly. Why are we enslaved upon this prison planet? It seems utterly meaningless, I know. I fucking get it. Life is a cruel joke. People are stupid and callous. The system is so fucking wrong, and mental illness is often a byproduct of a sick and twisted society. Suicide seems like the logical solution, but it isn’t. 

You have two choices, one is to take the easy way out and sit around locked up in your room, consumed by apathy as you experience your life vicariously through a t.v/computer screen/media. This is what they want. This turns you into a mindless consumer.

The second is to find your will for being here and use your negative experiences, your pain, your discomfort and your suffering to empower you to actually change the world and make your voice heard. Channel your agony into something constructive. Promote change. Melancholy is your inner voice telling you that something isn’t right in your life, something is pestering your unconscious and something needs to be addressed and dealt with, something needs to change. So fucking listen.

So reflect. Be introspective. Exercise that little organ between your ears. Write. Contemplate reality. Pose questions to the universe. Look up at the sky. Go and lose yourself in the depths of a forest. Stand on the beach listening to the waves crash until time becomes irrelevant. Write. Listen to music. Create music. Paint. Run until you collapse. Create. Fucking find yourself, create yourself. 

I destroyed myself with drugs and self destruction because I was disfigured by the trauma I have endured throughout my life. I lost everything, including my will to live and my ambition. I wandered aimlessly devoid of purpose. Longing for death to swallow me and annihilate my being. I begged and prayed for death to eat me up, but after hours and hours spent tumbling through the depths of the abyss drowning in my despair, I finally realised I was god, and life was only going to be what I created it to be. 

‘Every man and woman is a star’ - Crowley. 

Nothing is going to change if we all just sit here being obedient little consumers watching the powers that be dictate and destroy our lives. They thrive upon your passivity; they thrive upon your inaction.

What are you good at? What are your passions? What fuels your fire? What drives you?

Make a creation from your pain and find meaning in the midst of the suffering. 

Suicide dreams are bittersweet longing

I keep dreaming about suicide.

In these recent dreams, I am always fighting myself. 

I am filled with this immense anger and rage that roars through me, possessing every inch of my body.

It causes me to stick pins in my flesh and press sharp blades into my skin. I am trying to drown myself in the ocean, but I keep floating back to the surface for air. I try to jump out of a tall building. I never hit the ground,  I only end up falling into an alternate reality.

I then attempt to pass my rage onto the objects around me, so I try throwing appliances and breaking windows only to realise I can fathom absolutely no strength in my limbs, and that I am completely and utterly helpless.

I try to cry, or scream out for help. But I am too weak to produce any tears and no words manage to escape my mouth. 

They are really disturbing and draining. Considering I am not really suicidal in my waking life right now I am confused by these dreams.

In some of the dreams I am confronted with my abuser who is mercilessly slaughtering my dog, cat and family and there is nothing I can do to stop him. I can only watch as I am confronted with the most brutal pain I have EVER felt. 

I wake up hysterical, my body trembling and my bedsheets soaked in my cold perspiration.

I try to repress all the emotions evoked by these dreams as I move through the motions of life, mostly I am separate from my body but I always find myself emerging into my human form and breaking down into tears at the most random intervals. I will be walking through the shopping center, or sitting in the car and suddenly I’ll be triggered slightly and I’ll return and start sobbing uncontrollably.

I am starting to feel overwhelmed. I have nobody to turn too. My therapist decided to close my file at the end of last year because she couldn’t help me anymore. I desperately need a psychiatrist because my medication is all fucked up again. I can’t even remember when I last took it as prescribed, but again I have absolutely no support systems in place to help me.

I haven’t been to therapy since I was in rehab in August last year. I have nobody else to confide in and my emotional state is eroding more each day. I am screaming silently for salvation, terrified to ask for help because I am afraid of everything. The only way I know how to get help is by acting out and losing control, resulting in sheer mayhem and chaos for myself and everyone around me, but at least at times like this I am heard.

Instead I seem to masquerade around presenting the illusion to everyone else that I am okay, when in reality I am lost.

I don’t want to intentionally be self destructive to get the help I require. In the past I would only act out because I was hurting, out of control and desperate and I never saw the negative implications of my behavior because of the pain I felt.

I feel I have more insight into my illness now and the implications my behaviour has upon the people who care for me. I don’t want to put everyone through that again.

I feel like I am too much of a burden for everybody and just because I am in pain, does not give me the right to act however I want.

I just continue to self medicate with an array of OTC and prescription medications and marijuana to cope with the sleepless nights and incessant anxiety I feel, but this cannot go on forever. I am exhausted.

I think I am just going to go to the doctor and when they ask me how they can help, I will just break down in tears and beg him/her for help.

I have never asked anybody for help like this before. I have never put myself out there like this and admitted I was feeling down or helpless, and admitted that I wanted help. I was always so defiant and would consistently refuse help and deny my problems in order to avoid confronting them.

I always thought that people would assume I just wanted attention or that nobody would care. I am desperate now though, and I really don’t want to end up locked in psychiatric wards or jail again because of my problems being left to spiral out of control.

I fucking hate feeling like this.