Sleepless

There it is. When the lights go out. There is the old grief, compounded. C is right. I have put up every wall I can, and I am running as hard as I can to ignore it, make it go away.
This house is so empty, like its heart has gone. The purpose to my life. My orbit has been knocked away off course, and I am drifting. Drifting in the sickness, drifting in the dark, drifting without a course. The night is my day, and the dawn my twilight. Only when true exhaustion hits do I answer the siren call of my dreams.
My dreams, once looked forward to, offer no real relief from the night, just more twisted visions of the past, mixed with the never ending search to find what I have lost.
I wake, more exhausted than when I fell asleep, in the afternoon, and begin again. Wall, ignore, run, hide, and ignore the emptiness. Fly from the silence. Push real love away because it just hurts more. Squeeze out life, for the sham.
All those voices drilled into me from childhood, crowd out the spark of good, and calm I try to sow. My days are nothing but exhausted running, and my nights filled with distraction till the exhaustion finally takes me.
Grief will eat a person from the inside out. Left to fester on its own, it weakens the soul, and kills from the inside out. Sickness from the outside in.

Spotlight

Today, as I explored the feelings around being called 'Fatso' on the subway a year ago, I realized something. That woman made me feel like I was in a spotlight. That spotlight, I had been in before, where all my faults and some imagined ones where laid out before me and everyone else. Where I had no where to run, or hide.
I found everything in me trying to shrink, trying to hide. I was tense, and my stomach was a knot. I was right there in the emotion, and at the same time, part of my consciousness was trying to run, to dissociate from the stress of being there. Everything I did not allow myself to feel then, and everything I hid from them, I felt today.
There was so much physical to that feeling I almost lost the moment in feeling everything in my body.
Counseling is about the hardest thing I have done.... but I am in it with open eyes now. Even though walking into that office is hard, and I come out, with sore muscles, headaches, tired eyes, and tired body, I know that everything I lay down is something I never have to pick up again.

I did it, you know. I want to shake my fist at you. In defiance. The defiance I could not show then, I show you now. You. will. not. defeat. me.

Fighting to not stay where I am

The truth that many people never understand, until it is too late, is
that the more you try to avoid suffering the more you suffer because
smaller and more insignificant things begin to torture you in
proportion to your fear of being hurt. ~~(Thomas Merton)


Its time to step out of my comfort zone. Its time to come out from behind the walls that I built to keep myself safe. I have clad myself in the pain of the past, unwilling to let it go, for the fear of not having an identity without it. Its time to lay it aside, brick by brick, and see that today is today.

The past has taken so much with it. But I can do nothing about it now. My job is to realize that I have survived what I have, and to move on.

Sometimes, yes it is hard to leave the past in the past. But the past with me, has been ruling my future, and that needs to stop. I have BEEN through, but I AM through it.

Its a hard thing to tell yourself that you are holding onto your pain because its comfortable.

Time for a change

Change is in the wind I think. So now that I am 40,(Yes, I actually said it.) I think it's time to pull up the old weeds, dust off a few things, and change a lot of things. I have been becoming for a long time, its time for that foolishness to stop and time for me to get going. Hike the skirt up to the knees, kick myself in the butt, and get cracking!

So, what's the plan?

1) Ditch emotional baggage.

I am going to be doing that this year, and chucking all that stuff that has been holding me back. Its just baggage and if I want more later, I can add some. But really who wants baggage.

2) Formulate an action plan.

I am not quite there yet, but I know where I want to be at the end of the year. So with that in mind....

3) Set workable goals each month to meet and make change in my life.



There it is people, the plan.

Here were the goals for January. Learn to apply makeup, and start to take better care of skin and body in order to enhance physical appearance. I have watched hours and hours of YouTube tutorials, studied makeup, even gone to a makeup store to have my face done. Now that I know what I want to look like and what I don't, what I got from that is a basic knowledge of how to look more like a girl. That was step one anyway.

Goals for February..... No way man, I put them out here and I do not meet them? Nope. I will post them at the end of February. But they are trucking along rather nicely thanks. :)

Life is a really interesting thing. I have learned, it is what you make it. I am learning to make it positive, and good. :)

How a high control group works

Robert J. Lifton, in his seminal work on thought-reform, Thought Reform and the Psychology of Totalism, proposed the following 8 characteristics of a high-control group .

1.

Milieu Control - Control of communication both from without and within the group environment, resulting in a significant degree of isolation from the surrounding society. Includes other techniques to restrict members' contact with outside world and to be able to make critical, rational judgments about information: overwork, busy-ness, multiple lengthy meetings, etc.
2.

Mystical Manipulation - The claim of divine authority or spiritual advancement that allows the leader to reinterpret events as he or she wishes, or make prophecies or pronouncements at will, all for the purpose of controlling group members.
3.

Demand for Purity - The world is viewed as black and white and group members are constantly exhorted to strive for perfection. Consequently, guilt and shame are common and powerful control devices.
4.

The Cult of Confession - Serious (and often not so serious) sins, as defined by the group, are to be confessed, either privately to a personal monitor or publicly to the group at large.
5.

The "Sacred Science" - The doctrine of the group is considered to be the ultimate Truth, beyond all questioning or disputing. The leader of the group is likewise above criticism as the spokesperson for God on earth.
6.

Loading the Language - The group develops a jargon in many ways unique to itself, often not understandable to outsiders. This jargon consists of numerous words and phrases which the members understand (or think they do), but which really act to dull one's ability to engage in critical thinking.
7.

Doctrine over Person - The personal experiences of the group members are subordinated to the "Truth" held by the group -- apparently contrary experiences must be denied or re-interpreted to fit the doctrine of the group. The doctrine is always more important than the individual.
8.

Dispensing of Existence - The group arrogates to itself the prerogative to decide who has the right to exist and who does not. Usually held non-literally, this means that those outside the group are unspiritual, worldly, satanic, "unconscious," or whatever, and that they must be converted to the ideas of the group or they will be lost. If they refuse to join the group, then they must be rejected by the group members, even if they are family members. In rare cases this concept gives the group the right to terminate the outsider's life.

Nano last day

I should be frantically writing. I have been tearing my hair out. Getting here is the hardest thing I think I have done in a very long time. I do not think I have written like this....ever, and its HARD.

That is not why I stopped to write. I stopped to blog here because I have something using up my thinking space right now, and I need to get it out.

There is a science to setting up a cult, there is a knowledge of those things that you need to subjugate a person's will and common sense. So there has had to have been forethought, right? There has to have been intention.

That is what is bothering me right now. The fact that there was intention, forethought in two minds, four at most, behind what happened at GCC. It did not just happen.

What makes a person that.... evil? Why would you do such a thing, not just to those people who are following you, but to the thousands of kids who would pass through your care?

The eerie thing is, they knew we would not stay in their care, that eventually we would leave for the real world. How did they manage the silence all this time?

I am really dismayed by this thought. Not angry, though I am sure it will come when there is room, but shock, and dismay.

Okay back to writing.

Monday's Unique Rhythm

Today after a long weekend for Ava at I, no longer than anyone's really, it just felt that way, she went back to school and I cleaned the house. I like cleaning on Mondays so that I feel like I am starting the week with a house that I can have people into.
I was also compelled to sort out my banking toon in World of Warcraft. He has WAY too much stuff, and it was all in a mess, so I spent 3 hours sorting that out. My friend Zosh in game gave me a chunk of gold to play with so I bought to more bank tabs for my guild bank, and then organized the heck out of it. I have one whole tab devoted to all the kinds of cloth in the game. One row of each. One tab full of metal and gems, one of shinies (enchanting mats and purples and blues) One tab of Anij's extra herbs and potions, and one tab of stuff I am not sure what to do with, and food. It was a lot of hard work, but I feel good. Now I can focus on what a bank toon is supposed to do, instead of worrying that valuable stuff is disappearing in the mail.
I did some writing too, though not so much as yesterday, because remembering some of this stuff is making me emotional. GRR.
Ava is experiencing some attitude issues lately, and I am trying hard to ignore her tantruming and attention demanding and praising those things she does that we like, so that she is not learning to like any kind of attention.
I am kind of tired tonight, and just want to head off to bed. I am actually liking keeping the house up. It used to be harder than this, but I think little improvements over time will help. Bookshelves are my next hope.

Gratitude list!

I am grateful for my new home. Its really wonderful, just perfect for Ava and I. Its small, but cozy, and warm, and its all mine. Thank you so much, because when I blogged on paper what I wanted in a home, you answered and gave me this house! Thank you!

I am grateful that I have had the life I have, with the experiences that have made me strong when I needed to be and weak when I needed to be. I thank you for ALL of my life. Because I am who I am because I have been who I have been.

I am so grateful for my children. They are my life's blood, and they teach me everything. I did not love before they were in the world. I did not live before they were here. I was nothing, but now, I am their everything, and they are my everything.

Way too long

Like the rest of my friends and the people I know, we have blogs and blog not. *sigh* Okay so tonight I blog and I am going to put a sticky beside my computer to remind me that as the day gets on, I will blog. I will use my voice and I will blog.

For now, I found a story that I wrote a while ago, and I need to show it again, because I dunno where it came from, but here it is again.

"There is a very sad little man who sits in his home, at his computer and what he does is spend his life drinking, and trying to hurt people.
He has a girlfriend, or something, that he does not love. He has a mother that he does not love. He does not love anyone, because he is incapable of loving anyone but himself, and the sound of his own voice raised in hatred.
When he was young this angry young man went to school, and made everyone very much aware that he was a mouthy lad, and that he was in control. Or so he thought. He tried very hard to be in control. He tried very hard to show that he was not inside, a very small, very scared little boy. You see, this sad little man, was a sad little boy, who was not a victim of anyone but himself. But he tried to make the world see that he was tough, not scared. That he was angry, not afraid. He was convinced that the world would see nothing but his act and let him have the power he craved, instead of the love he needed.
As he grew up, people feared him, and he liked that. He liked the power he got from intimidation. He liked to see the fear in the eyes of the women he raped, and slapped, and beat. Those friends he wanted to keep, he punched, belittled, and humiliated right out of his life. And soon, the boy-man was lonely.
He could not understand why no one stuck around. Is it me? No, he dismissed that thought immediately. He just was not trying hard to find the right people. All through his life he kept finding the wrong people.
Finally, there came a day when he found a group of people. These people were light, and life, and he wanted more than anything to be accepted and loved by them. At first, his charm and sense of humor made him fit in. But then the anger started to get out. People started to pull away, and in vain, and in fear, he did the only thing he knew how. He lashed out again and again at the people he wanted to be with. As he did, he watched as each one turned away in fear, and disgust. One voice spoke out. Tried to show him what he was doing. How his need to control through fear was creating a place where no one wanted to be. That made him very frightened. What if the voice was right. He must shut that voice up! NO ONE must know of his fear, or think that he was not in control.
He lashed out at the voice that spoke truth to his heart. He found the person, and he hit him again and again. He called on one of his 'friends' at the bar. Help me destroy this person he cried.
His drinking buddy offered him a knife, and some more booze. He drank and drank. In an alcoholic fog he stabbed at the person with the voice.

Waking up, hours later, he ran to his friends to greet them. Only to find he was alone. Alone but for the crazed man at the bar. Drink more his friend said. It will help the loneliness. So he did. And as he did he began to see that he was right. Who needed all those weak people anyway. He had his friend, and he had his booze.

A few month's later, he heard his booze buddy was sick. He left his usual spot at the bar and in an alcoholic fog headed out to see his friend. His friend was dying. He looked at his 'friend'. And he walked back to the bar, swallowed more and more booze, to hide from the fear, to hide the pain, and because his booze was now his only friend.

Years later, when the man himself was dying, he looked around at the wreckage he lived in. He had never found the people of light and love again. They had left him. He did not care about his drinking buddy. But he was alone, he was lonely, and he was dying.

In anger he cried out to the Universe, HEAR ME!! I was a child, alone, I was angry that I was alone. I had friends but they never were good enough for me. I had women, but they were cheap sluts who left me. I found the people of light and love, and they took me into their circle, only to leave, the cheap assholes. There is not ONE person on this planet that is my equal!!!! With that, he died. Alone. Unsung. The people around him left him where he lay, and walked away. "

Written by Marion Morton

Dunno where my head was at that night!

I didn't tell anyone I was doing it today.

I donated my hair today.

I cut it ALL off. I think I have been in shock all day. I cut off 12 inches of healthy hair, and I now sport a very structured very mod do. I am posting before and after pics.

I did not tell anyone really because I needed to really shake things up in my life, I really only made the decision to go all the way last night. I was still wavering this morning. But I actually feel good about this.

Oh and my hair is SO silky and healthy right now.

I am not terribly impressed with the woman who cut my hair. I felt like it was done in a factory. The woman kept shushing my tears of shock away with "Be HAPPY, you are doing something nice for someone." I KNOW that, but I have had long hair since I was 27. Its a bit of a shock. She was not sensitive, and she let me walk out of the shop with wet hair. I was freezing cold all afternoon.

But its done. :)



So here they are:

Me Before

After