Posts
Childhood, secrets, silence & secrets of the soul shattered:
[Reintegrating soul fragments Day 1]
Tuesday, 14th July, 2020.
By now, I have already broken too many promises for goals, and outcomes I set myself, I think this is more of a reflection of my own interaction with the society around me, than my own lack of power to seek out these goals. I have lived a life full of turmoil, obstacles and challenges from the hidden hand, meaning I’m in a perpetual state of “waiting for the next bad thing to come”, but passionate enough to still have this slittge of hope that “maybe this pain will be worthwhile in the end”.
I have broken so many promises to myself, but I owe it to myself now, to be honest about my life, in order to break free, I must first, release the burden of my souls’ secrets.
I am in a pioneering phase of integrating childhood dissociation, and I have experimental approaches to “do anything to make it out, at any cost”. ‘
In other words: I’m so committed to my healing, to my recovery and to live a life of happiness, harmony and shared joy- that I’ll do anything, try anything, no matter how extreme, to test its veracity for a sense of safety, connection and peace.
It goes beyond the average thrill seeking impulsive thoughtless acts of self-destruction now, or extrinsic people pleasing motivation to feel a sense of belonging, no.
Now I’m walking rogue, aware, disturbed and staring the beast straight in the eyes.
Day after day is another spiritual war, full circle, to the distressed, disgusting and disfiguring days of decades bygone. But these decades long lost in the spiral of time, have etched the electric cattle prod of prolonged, repeated, never-ending pain upon my molecular anatomy.
In other words, my normal, is this daily battle, but once I was blinded to it]s nature, locked in a self-destruction spiral towards suicide. Now, I see through the smoke & mirrors and my souls truth, has been aroused by the endurance of my pushing through the perpetual setbacks.
In recent times, it’s become an act of spiritual warfare, of metaphysical duality, in which, both good and evil, are carved upon me, that no matter what I do, or where I go, the longer I go on, the more I see the shadow for what it is, and the shadow aligns to my own secrets. So when I see that my life events, and the stain of the world, are one in the same,
I have to understand the nature of spiritual warfare, and have faith in my self-acceptance, that my experience, has shaped me, and I have the choice to be abused forever, or to stand up, against the adversity that has followed me sinmce my inception, generational, incarnations of soul stains. and the line between madness and mysticism has bowed, broken and traversed to the point of my safety now comes from the danger and chaos, no matter the potential risk.
It's funny how spiritual purpose can really change the trajectory of a life-path. When I say change it, I mean, it's been radically propelled, primarily from the self-discovery, self-understanding and my own coming into my most authentic self.
It all starts with society, the social norms conditioned into us as children warp the perception we grow to inhabit as adults. Souls; young, old and ancient, all face the perpetual journey of being incarnated here, to complete and fulfil whatever journey is unique, to each and every souled being on this planet.
Since birth, I've been aware of my old-soul gnosis, inexplicable intuition that has ruled my emotions since as far back as my memory can span. As environment, personality, genetics and neurobiology all contribute to the complex make up of humans, each soul has it's own customised journey that it has embarked upon, whether the soul is aware of this or not, doesn’t change the essence of time under tension. I've died, and even my spirit was still earth bound, the physical vessel, is the instrument, to attune to the beauty and mystery of life and the planet, earth, that sustains life.
I have traversed hell, heaven and the many realms In between in less than three decades, and I’ve been buried alive, and crawling through dirt, flame & carnal stains to survive suicide, self-hate, and unending self-blame. Now my soul still holds secrets decades old.
I can tell you that I've walked the line between life and death hundreds of times, many, unconscious, even for moments, trapped, my soul suspended in time, watching my body from above. It starts as dissociation, which is a natural survival skill adapted in situations my infant-childhood body found herself trapped in.
With each passing birthday, my soul, coupled a self-perpetuating downhill spiral of my own bio-psychosocial makeup, caused ever increasing feelings of sadness, sickness, loneliness, defectiveness, self-desolation, depression, despair and an overwhelming dread that paralysed me into fits of anxiety. I spent most of my childhood in a state of perpetual nausea, disengaged from the world around me, with brief moments of fleeting joy, that were always followed with something that would devour any sense of impending happiness and beat me down with the feeling that something was very wrong in the world, everything and everyone seemed to be alien to me, I hoped, that behind closed doors, that others were like me, and my secrets were not as solitary, or secretive.
Duality is the nature of the universe, right? But the extremes are the exception. The themes of my life extremes, always felt, in the most savage capacity.
My soul and heart have been born, to roar with fire, passionate and extreme measures, becoming my go-to game.
Age seven, how can a child understand, that what she experiences, isn't the norm? When the norm is so filthy, rotten and deceptive, that the child turns on herself, rejects herself and everything representing herself, in order to split away, and float without aim, to be okay.
Dissociative identity disorder and its many fragmented parts that linger between trauma and split moments of transient life, never a constant, only blending into dissected compartments of mind, divided time, split soul now seeks the wholeness stripped by soul-loss.
It is here I find a sense of release, or relief, from these slumbering echoes that keep their resonant burning heat, electric cattle prod penetrating, dissecting, displacing.
I had nowhere to go, but beyond, away.
Instead, I looked outside, to find myself, in others. As I had no self or a cohesive sense of self, for inner guidance, I had to seek meaning outside. To be something, worthy, or nothing, just anything beyond the torment in my earlier life.
I have always looked for the good in other people, and I've had to cling to that goodness that I find, which is another coping mechanism I picked up when I was drowning in feelings of deep dread, topped with the delightfully self-degrading but complimentary, pervasive feelings of: disgust, depression, desolation and despair.
Childhood wasn't easy. I never want to downplay other people who had pleasant experiences, but I cannot see how any child growing up when I did, could be anything but, royally fucked up, by the level of the unseen, hidden world, that some of us lived day after day.
But I never understood what was happening at the time, it wasn’t until I was 6 or 7 I noticed other girls were “pretty, clean” and I was “dirty, disfigured, dumb, messy, ugly”.
Childhood wasn’t just unclean due to one event. It was everything, every corner of my life was saturated by no choice, no ablity to control what was happening, no matter how much I tried, the magnitude of what happened meant dissociation was my best-friend, and the characters I created in my mind, were who I went out to survive in the world, for decades, this was all I knew.
I made my parts come to life on paper, to create anything, anyone, who was going to be accepted by other people.
I've mastered the actress skill to a level, by the time I was hitting puberty, the endless switches and seamless personalities I'd embody, were the only thing that propelled me forward, fragmented, life lived in glitches and thousands of rainbow characters, who were all "better" than whatever "my real self" was. In the daily roles I would endure, adapt, evolve, and eventually, living a complete lie, strangers, living in my body, memory, or ability to slip my consciousness away from my mind, splitting off into the aether, was the only thing that was possible.
I looked to others, but lacking anything positive, I would cling to anything, desperate and hungry for love, the moment any authentic piece of my soul would slip into action; the people in the world around me rejected and denied her. In fact, I was told, I was bad, evil, naughty and selfish. I was also told I was smart, beautiful and had the world at my fingers. The perpetual double bind only caused my soul to depart, and for years, I lived a very convincing lie.
The issue we face is, that nothing was ever safe to blossom, or grow organically. From as young as birth my brain was being pried and tweaked, my soul, heart and spirit; shattered, built up with lies, special-treats & false dichotomies (lose-lose).
I would say by age 3, I had evacuated my soul from body, only transient phases of return, which would always confirm the dreadful day after day, which meant I split my consciousness away over and over again.
I was in grade 1 the last time I saw her, 6 years too long, carnal knowledge is the most heinous soul splitting technique, I felt no hope, no future, no self-awareness, no sense of safety, nothing but this dread, that drowned out anything that was transient, and relatively "normal" childhood experiences. Making them seem, after years of this, redundant, so I became more adept at wearing my characters to find a sense of connection with the people around me.
Childhood, secrets, silence & secrets of the soul shattered:
[Reintegrating soul fragments Day 1]
Tuesday, 14th July, 2020.
By now, I have already broken too many promises for goals, and outcomes I set myself, I think this is more of a reflection of my own interaction with the society around me, than my own lack of power to seek out these goals. I have lived a life full of turmoil, obstacles and challenges from the hidden hand, meaning I’m in a perpetual state of “waiting for the next bad thing to come”, but passionate enough to still have this slittge of hope that “maybe this pain will be worthwhile in the end”.
I have broken so many promises to myself, but I owe it to myself now, to be honest about my life, in order to break free, I must first, release the burden of my souls’ secrets.
I am in a pioneering phase of integrating childhood dissociation, and I have experimental approaches to “do anything to make it out, at any cost”. ‘
In other words: I’m so committed to my healing, my recovery, attempting to live a life of happiness, harmony and shared joy- that I’ll do anything, try anything, no matter how extreme, to test its veracity for a sense of safety, connection and peace.
It goes beyond the average thrill seeking impulsive thoughtless acts of self-destruction now, or extrinsic people pleasing motivation to feel a sense of belonging, no.
Now I’m walking rogue, aware, disturbed and staring the beast straight in the eyes.
Day after day is another spiritual war, full circle, to the distressed, disgusting and disfiguring days of decades bygone. But these decades long lost in the spiral of time, have etched the electric cattle prod of prolonged, repeated, never-ending pain upon my molecular anatomy.
In other words, my normal, is this daily battle, but once I was blinded to it]s nature, locked in a self-destruction spiral towards suicide. Now, I see through the smoke & mirrors and my souls truth, has been aroused by the endurance of my pushing through the perpetual setbacks.
In recent times, it’s become an act of spiritual warfare, of metaphysical duality, in which, both good and evil, are carved upon me, that no matter what I do, or where I go, the longer I go on, the more I see the shadow for what it is, and the shadow aligns to my own secrets. So when I see that my life events, and the stain of the world, are one in the same,
I have had to learn how understand the nature of spiritual warfare, and have faith in my self-acceptance, that my experience, has shaped me, and I have the choice to be abused forever, or to stand up, against the adversity that has followed me since my inception, generational, incarnations of soul stains. and the line between madness and mysticism has bowed, broken.
and traversed to the point of my safety now comes from the danger and chaos, no matter the potential risk.
It's funny how spiritual purpose can really change the trajectory of a life-path. When I say change it, I mean, it's been radically propelled, primarily from the self-discovery, self-understanding and my own coming into my most authentic self.
It all starts with society, the social norms conditioned into us as children warp the perception we grow to inhabit as adults. Souls; young, old and ancient, all face the perpetual journey of being incarnated here, to complete and fulfil whatever journey is unique, to each and every souled being on this planet.
Since birth, I've been aware of my old-soul gnosis, inexplicable intuition that has ruled my emotions since as far back as my memory can span. As environment, personality, genetics and neurobiology all contribute to the complex make up of humans, each soul has it's own customised journey that it has embarked upon, whether the soul is aware of this or not, doesn’t change the essence of time under tension. I've died, and even my spirit was still earth bound, the physical vessel, is the instrument, to attune to the beauty and mystery of life and the planet, earth, that sustains life.
I have traversed hell, heaven and the many realms In between in less than three decades, and I’ve been buried alive, and crawling through dirt, flame & carnal stains to survive suicide, self-hate, and unending self-blame. Now my soul still holds secrets decades old.
I can tell you that I've walked the line between life and death hundreds of times, many, unconscious, even for moments, trapped, my soul suspended in time, watching my body from above. It starts as dissociation, which is a natural survival skill adapted in situations my infant-childhood body found herself trapped in.
With each passing birthday, my soul, coupled a self-perpetuating downhill spiral of my own bio-psychosocial makeup, caused ever increasing feelings of sadness, sickness, loneliness, defectiveness, self-desolation, depression, despair and an overwhelming dread that paralysed me into fits of anxiety. I spent most of my childhood in a state of perpetual nausea, disengaged from the world around me, with brief moments of fleeting joy, that were always followed with something that would devour any sense of impending happiness and beat me down with the feeling that something was very wrong in the world, everything and everyone seemed to be alien to me, I hoped, that behind closed doors, that others were like me, and my secrets were not as solitary, or secretive.
Duality is the nature of the universe, right? But the extremes are the exception. The themes of my life extremes, always felt, in the most savage capacity.
My soul and heart have been born, to roar with fire, passionate and extreme measures, becoming my go-to game.
Age seven, how can a child understand, that what she experiences, isn't the norm? When the norm is so filthy, rotten and deceptive, that the child turns on herself, rejects herself and everything representing herself, in order to split away, and float without aim, to be okay.
Dissociative identity disorder and its many fragmented parts that linger between trauma and split moments of transient life, never a constant, only blending into dissected compartments of mind, divided time, split soul now seeks the wholeness stripped by soul-loss.
It is here I find a sense of release, or relief, from these slumbering echoes that keep their resonant burning heat, electric cattle prod penetrating, dissecting, displacing.
I had nowhere to go, but beyond, away.
Instead, I looked outside, to find myself, in others. As I had no self or a cohesive sense of self, for inner guidance, I had to seek meaning outside. To be something, worthy, or nothing, just anything beyond the torment in my earlier life.
I have always looked for the good in other people, and I've had to cling to that goodness that I find, which is another coping mechanism I picked up when I was drowning in feelings of deep dread, topped with the delightfully self-degrading but complimentary, pervasive feelings of: disgust, depression, desolation and despair.
Childhood wasn't easy. I never want to downplay other people who had pleasant experiences, but I cannot see how any child growing up when I did, could be anything but, royally fucked up, by the level of the unseen, hidden world, that some of us lived day after day.
But I never understood what was happening at the time, it wasn’t until I was 6 or 7 I noticed other girls were “pretty, clean” and I was “dirty, disfigured, dumb, messy, ugly”.
Childhood wasn’t just unclean due to one event. It was everything, every corner of my life was saturated by no choice, no ablity to control what was happening, no matter how much I tried, the magnitude of what happened meant dissociation was my best-friend, and the characters I created in my mind, were who I went out to survive in the world, for decades, this was all I knew.
I made my parts come to life on paper, to create anything, anyone, who was going to be accepted by other people.
I've mastered the actress skill to a level, by the time I was hitting puberty, the endless switches and seamless personalities I'd embody, were the only thing that propelled me forward, fragmented, life lived in glitches and thousands of rainbow characters, who were all "better" than whatever "my real self" was. In the daily roles I would endure, adapt, evolve, and eventually, living a complete lie, strangers, living in my body, memory, or ability to slip my consciousness away from my mind, splitting off into the aether, was the only thing that was possible.
I looked to others, but lacking anything positive, I would cling to anything, desperate and hungry for love, the moment any authentic piece of my soul would slip into action; the people in the world around me rejected and denied her. In fact, I was told, I was bad, evil, naughty and selfish. I was also told I was smart, beautiful and had the world at my fingers. The perpetual double bind only caused my soul to depart, and for years, I lived a very convincing lie.
The issue we face is, that nothing was ever safe to blossom, or grow organically. From as young as birth my brain was being pried and tweaked, my soul, heart and spirit; shattered, built up with lies, special-treats & false dichotomies (lose-lose).
I would say by age 3, I had evacuated my soul from body, only transient phases of return, which would always confirm the dreadful day after day, which meant I split my consciousness away over and over again.
I was in grade 1 the last time I saw her, 6 years too long, carnal knowledge is the most heinous soul splitting technique, I felt no hope, no future, no self-awareness, no sense of safety, nothing but this dread, that drowned out anything that was transient, and relatively "normal" childhood experiences. Making them seem, after years of this, redundant, so I became more adept at wearing my characters to find a sense of connection with the people around me.
