Etichete

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If you try to draw a rainbow in black and white to describe what you feel, there are always deformed strains of red interlaced between you and your mind and the mind of others. How could others understand, while your own mind cannot seek the well where all this pain is originated? Stop drawing the bloody rainbow hoping to find a treasure at the end of it. There is no treasure there, there is no reason for your sufferance, and there is no redemption in explanation, there is no explanation that will make you truly understand. It’s all a lie thrown as a veil over your heart by your brain.

Let it be – this is my prayer for you and for me. Let it all wash out the same way it comes upon you. Let the boulders be boulders on top of your heart. They will eventually get bored with such a passive victim and will roll away to somebody else more willing (because of being scared) to fight them off.

I came to believe that there is a bigger and more authentic courage in not fighting it. Fighting means to run away from the truth at hand: you cannot possible win such an absurd battle. So, obviously, fighting means a pledge to lose the battle. Yes, there is a virtue in non-action, the virtue of seeing the big picture – repeat after me what is this big picture about: I cannot understand why the trauma happened to me, because I am not the abuser. Logically, if I want to understand, the only way to succeed is to become an abuser. Isn’t this what most of the former abused children become as adults? There you have it! The risk is real, are you ready to accept it?

Most of the times, the abuser doesn’t understand it either why is he an abuser. Therefore, step two follows smoothly: if I cannot understand, I cannot act upon a conclusion. Three, I cannot change the conclusion, even if I know it. Four, I cannot undue the abuse, I cannot change the abuser, I cannot change myself, I cannot chose to be somebody else, I cannot be somebody else – these sound pretty familiar, isn’t it?

These are all captive dreams of impossible endeavors. And I also came to believe that a big part of the cage that keeps us still captive is painted by these dreams, which are unrealistic goals of clarification and closure. There is no such thing and who says otherwise is just a Fata Morgana mirage trader. Yes, I do dare say this assuming the known risk via most psychologists.

That’s what they try to sell to us, isn’t it? Go to therapy, eventually take medication, and you’ll see the light in maybe few years, maybe less, most possibly never, but at least you’ll have it under control.

My prayer for you and for me today is exactly this: I pray for you to let the f control go the f away. It’s not going to work if you try to gain, re-gain, maintain, and obtain this psiho-pupu illusion called control.

I pray for you to see that the light comes only after you voluntarily give up the dream of controlling an absurd world, such as the world of being a victim and the world of abuse and the world of stolen childhood. Why would somebody wish to gain control over such hell? I pray for you to let it all go back to the hell where it belongs. I pray for you to lose control over it and let it all melt away with your tears and stop dreaming of conquering your pain now or ever. It will never happen this way. It’s not meant to happen this way.

I pray for you to gain insight into acceptance. It is what it is – this is my new mantra. I cannot change the past and I don’t know the future. When it comes to the present times, all I can do and remain free in the same time is to live it, not to fight it.

How does that happen? Let’s say it hurts. I acknowledge it – ok, it hurts, this is what it is, I let it be, I let the pain do its thing without any sign of fight from my part. I gave up trying to understand it also. It just is, the same way leaves are in a tree and apples on my plate. The more I rebel that I don’t want it to hurt, the more it hurts. The more “why?” I scream into the ceiling’s direction, the more pain I get; and certainly no answers.

Every action is in vain. The only thing that works so far is to let it be on its own and then let it go the same way it came upon me. This is my new prayer – the non-prayer. Actually, the non-nothing, because I am not doing anything. I am not even thinking of something. I am a big blank page for every storm that is looking for some three-dimensional form to destroy. I am not offering anything anymore to this ghost and the ghost leaves me alone after trying a lot, maybe even hating me more because it leaves here still hungry for more souls.

Why is that? Because of the pain feeds itself from the thoughts and feelings and memories you’re offering to it. I came to discover via reasoning (yeah, my big defense, I know, so what?) that part of the pain is the food itself and if clearly left without nourishment, then the pain would be less or not even that much.

Dwelling over the past, over what was this and why was that and who said what and who did what – a road to nowhere, believe me. There is nothing to understand of a place where is no light. What good does it do to us to go back into the dark room and be afraid again, but this time ten zillion times more, because now we are adults, now we “understand” better? Believe my word, there isn’t any new discovery to be made. Love was not there. And if it was love by some who knows what twisted definition, then it was a sick mtf type of love and it doesn’t nead our understanding, it doesn’t need one more sacrifice on our part; it needs healing. And we are not healers via Stockholm syndrome, we are the victims! There is no shame in it. Live with it, share it with the world (the world should be ashamed, not us), heal other victims. Let the past heal itself. And learn to love again. That’s about it, there are no other secrets about this path to „recovery” (I call it the path out of the cave, to the real light, via Platon).

 Love doesn’t hurt – we already know that. That’s all the answers we need, right? Do we need to find out anything else, now really? Then why the craving of painting the rainbow in black and white, as if we didn’t already see it that way every second of our lives and where is the psycho-whatever benefit in doing so? Let it all be, let it all go away on its own.

Who can possible stop a tsunami? Who can fight a solar storm? Who can resist on Mars without oxygen? Now think about it – these memories are of the same power as the ones mentioned above because these memories can also kill you. Maybe not in a second, but after some years of intense stress of so-called journey into your own past, I bet it’s possible. I actually know for sure it’s possible. Your body cannot take it and it will shut down. It’s like a double dose of arsenic – you escaped the first one thanks to a miracle and want to try it again, tempting the fate.

I know there are many voices out there that will claim that only a journey to your past will help you clean the place and start a new, but I don’t believe it anymore. I don’t need to destroy my old house in order to build a new one on the exact same spot. I can leave that old ruin where it is and I can go somewhere else and build there. If I have to build, but do I really have to build another load to drag after myself for the rest of my life?

The most difficult part is to achieve the state of nothingness, but it comes with practice. Not the practice of becoming nothingness, but the practice of too much pain. One gets sick of pain and wants something else. Such as at least less pain. If I’d attain that much, I’d consider myself a former captive child. Not freed yet, but nobody’s perfect, not even the normal people.

As I recently told another captive friend, when I fall into the abyss of excruciating pain, I tell to myself: “I am my own hero. I made it so far, therefore I am a hero. My own abusers didn’t make it to where I am today. It doesn’t matter if I make it to another day, I am still a hero. I let go of so much pain, that the Sun would have disappeared in a black hole of ice if it would have had to endure it.”

And this mantra gives me the emotional distance to make it to another day and another day and another day, doesn’t matter what I feel and how I feel and who cause it and why cause it, cognitive therapy or not, closure or not. I keep moving on no matter what and how, because I know this is the purest victory of all: even if you’re kneeled by life and forced to crawl in the dirt, never to give up. Not even the Sun and the stars have a will on their own, think about that! We do. As painful as it is to be who we are, it’s still one of the most beautiful of all beauties in the universe. With that perspective in mind, think of your cage as to a pint of sand, because compared with the stars, you are truly free.

With all my love, to all my captive friends, let it be and let it go.

Have a blessed Christmas.

a.