my healing experiences
... and on and on.... and on and on.... and on and on... and on and on...
Below are a few of the feeling expression and healing examples Marion and I have had a few days before and including Christmas Day this year - 2012. We don’t ‘do’ Christmas having long since given it up, so Christmas-day is just another day to express more bad feelings.
Some of the experiences were short, others long in duration, I’ve not written all we spoke during them, and mostly they are only snippets of all we expressed. Sometimes a bad feeling will come up and our expressing it and all it involves might only take five minutes to half and hour, and other times such as Marion’s problems with her birds goes on for days with usually a lot of talking - hours, and then a couple of hours break, and then more talking.
I've written them to illustrate how we express our bad feelings seeking the truth of them, all which as it comes mostly involves understanding more about our early life and our relationship with our parents. Marion has always been able to freely express her feelings since I've known her, but she needed a lot of professional help to get going before we met. It's taken me these 16 years to get to what I've written below, as during the early years I could hardly express my feelings not being aware of what I was actually feeling, and then even more years before I started to connect easily with my early childhood state, sometimes talking endlessly over months trying to express my bad feelings with Marion's encouragement, before the truth from my early life started to surface. Now all I express immediately links up with my early years.
Some of the experiences were short, others long in duration, I’ve not written all we spoke during them, and mostly they are only snippets of all we expressed. Sometimes a bad feeling will come up and our expressing it and all it involves might only take five minutes to half and hour, and other times such as Marion’s problems with her birds goes on for days with usually a lot of talking - hours, and then a couple of hours break, and then more talking.
I've written them to illustrate how we express our bad feelings seeking the truth of them, all which as it comes mostly involves understanding more about our early life and our relationship with our parents. Marion has always been able to freely express her feelings since I've known her, but she needed a lot of professional help to get going before we met. It's taken me these 16 years to get to what I've written below, as during the early years I could hardly express my feelings not being aware of what I was actually feeling, and then even more years before I started to connect easily with my early childhood state, sometimes talking endlessly over months trying to express my bad feelings with Marion's encouragement, before the truth from my early life started to surface. Now all I express immediately links up with my early years.
Dismissing bad feelings
Marion and I were getting ready to go out for the morning. Suddenly hammering started, it was only seven o’clock. Next door having sold recently were adding an extension. The men hadn’t done any work for a few days, now they were back. Marion overheard them as she was outside feeding the birds saying they were going to replace the whole lower roof. We can’t bear the noise, and everywhere we move to, building starts and continues until we leave. This was the latest round of building we were being subjected to. More bad feelings. I say to Marion, at least they should have done most of it by the time we get back, slipping back into my old ways of trying to deny my bad feelings. Marion never denies her bad feelings. Staying with them she replies, no, they’ll stop working as we leave, only to continue once we get back home. It’s how it always is for us, we can never escape the building, always more horrendous building noises we’ve got to suffer, we’ll never be able to live in peace. And she’s right, we both feel bad. We hate such noise, all the man-made noises, we long to be surrounded by nature and hearing only natural noises, but it’s not going to happen. We need such noise to keep making us feel bad, to keep bringing up our repressed yuk. She points out to me that I’ve dismissed my bad feelings yet again. I quickly she what I’ve done, looking forward to the good thing, that they will not make so much noise when we get home having possibly finished the roof, shutting out my bad feelings by trying to replace them with good ones - false good ones based on false hope. Because as soon as she points this out, I drop the good feelings, and the hope, and come back to myself, to my bad feeling reality and start complaining about always being subjected to such horrible noise. We both speak about our bad feelings understanding that it is how it was for us when we were young. Being subjected to the noise of our parents who didn’t love us as we needed to be loved. They were always hammering on at us. Marion’s pounded her, pneumatic drill stuff; I got the constant hammering. And as we left, sure enough, the men stopped work and drove off, I couldn’t believe it. So I’d woken up this morning, and then next thing I knew the hammering started, staying until I left the house. And it was there upon our return. And that’s how it was for me (for both of us) during our early lives, I would wake up and the hammering would start. Mum would be yelling at dad or me or my brother or sister. Yelling, hammering away, hardly a moments peace. So I’d start my day feeling jarred, out of sorts, very angry, but unable to express any of it. So as I’ve grown older still being unable to express any of it and tell mum to shut up and stop hammering away, I’ve blocked it all out. I’ve always hoped it would be better when I got home. But it never has. Why don’t you say anything?
My Mac ceased up. We had to take it to the ‘Mac repair guy’. He fixed it. Marion waited outside in the car. When I returned she told me about the magpies she’d been watching in the street as we started for home. She finished all she wanted to say and I remained silent. After a little while she asked me why wasn’t I saying anything, telling her all about what happened in the Mac shop. She brought to my attention more about how I don’t come out to her, I don’t want to share myself with her, connect with her as normal people would. How when two people who are together, and have been apart then come back together, would naturally want to share all they’ve been through with each other. It’s one of my big problems. We’ve worked on aspects of it for years. Lately more has been coming to light as I’ve been able to relate to myself in my fucked state more clearly. As we talked about it, I could see even more clearly that that’s how I am, because that’s how it always was. Mum would take me to the aquarium, I’d go in, spend about half and hour looking at all the fish, and buying a couple of new ones. Then I’d come back to the car for the long trip home, as the only aquarium I liked was in the outer suburbs, and mum would as she always did, talk about herself and all she’s been thinking and feeling and mostly worrying about. I would half-listen returning to my mind and imagining being still in the aquarium and the new fish I’d got, and that’s how it always was. She didn’t want to know me. About the most she ever asked would be - did you get what you wanted. I’d say yes, possibly show her, but that’s as far as it ever went. So it’s what I do. I’ve always done it, as it was never any different with mum, dad or Gran. So here I am now with Marion, still living trapped within my own mind, off in my private reality, and a fantasy at that, not sharing myself with her, not talking openly about all that happened to me, all I felt and thought, not even feeling that’s what I want to do, or should do, or that’s what people do in a normal relationship. So she helps me to further see that I didn’t have a normal relationships with my parents during my forming years or at any time. And slowly the anger starts to return, yet again I’m feeling very pissed-off with how they treated me. I don’t feel loved at all by them, I feel very hurt and sad that I had such a nothing life. And I express all these feelings to Marion, who unlike them, wants to listen to all I have to say. Marion expressing her feelings:
Those birds, I am so annoyed with the mynahs (Indian mynahs), they won’t go away, they stay there, nothing scares them off, they never give up, they make me so angry, I want to blast them, smash them, I wish I could go out there and rip their heads off, I wish I could get rid of every mynah, I hate them, they are so annoying. You know, little Stumpy (a mother blackbird without a tail) was standing there at the door waiting for me to feed her, it was one of those rare times when there were no mynahs. So I opened the door and threw her her ball, and then before she could even come forward to it, the bloody mynah had swooped in and taken it. Shit I hate them. I hate feeding the birds, I wish I could give it up, I wish I could end it all. But I can’t, and I really hate having to feed the ones I don’t want to feed. I like all the birds, even the mynahs, but not when they do things that stop me doing what I want to do. They are always there, always so bossy, always taking over, always ruining it for everyone else, you can’t do anything without them. It’s just how it was with mum and dad, they were always there, I was never allowed to do anything on my own. And if I could, because they said I could, still they were always there, always ready, and they did many times, step in and take over, stopping me from doing what I wanted. And then they’d be so angry with me because I’d not done it how they thought or said it should be done. They’d punish me, not allowing me to play with anyone, I never had any friends, not even with my sisters. And I wish I could do to them what I want to do to the mynahs. I wish I could have stood up to them and said no, and leave or something. Of course I couldn’t have, but I am so fed up with them, I wish they would stop taking all the meat, it’s not for them, it’s for the other birds. Every other bird if you frighten it keeps its distance, it stays away, but not the mynahs, they might back-off for a moment, but nothing keeps them away. They don’t take it personally, that I hate them. They don’t feel those things. They just want the meat, and so whenever they get the chance, in they come. I hate them, I feel like ripping my hair out, I wish we could leave, I want to go now, I want to go away to where there are no mynahs, I want to go so I never feed the birds again. I ... I hate what they’ve done to that park, look, they’ve chopped down half the trees, what was wrong with them, there was nothing wrong with them, they looked so good.
Yes, but what are you feeling, talk about your feelings more. Why do you hate it? It’s the look, it doesn’t look good anymore, and what about all the places the birds could go and all the other creatures, they’ve removed so many of those bushes, they were nice bushes, they weren’t natives, but still. Your feelings, you’re still not expressing your feelings - talk about your feelings, how are you feeling, how does it make you feel. It makes me feel angry, that they’ve done that - Yes, but your feelings, what are your real feelings, deeper than the angry, why are you angry, what’s happening to you in there chopping down the trees. I feel sad, something I liked has gone. It’s as if I’m a bird and that was my favourite tree and place to go, my own hideout, a place safe from the world and all the scary stuff, and now it’s gone. Now I’m stuck out there all vulnerable and very scared, what will happen to me, I have nowhere to retreat to, no safe place, nowhere I feel secure. I feel so insecure, that’s how I feel in the world, I don’t have a place that I feel safe in. I used to think I felt safe at home, but now I know through my healing that home was just as scary with mum and dad. So now I have nowhere, which really is how I’ve always felt. Yes, I can see that now, I’ve never felt safe, I’ve never felt like I have a safe retreat, I’ve got no home really. They said it was my home, but it wasn’t, it wasn’t there for me, all for me, all to do as I pleased in, it was their home, and I had to do what they said. And they hurt me so many times making me feel bad, sad and miserable, and so lonely... And now I can see how I’ve had to retreat more into my mind, pretending that I’m safe in there, that they and no one who’s mean and nasty can get me in there. Yes, if I hide in my mind then I’m away from them, from mum and dad, from those nasty men who chopped all those trees down and pulled out all those bushes. I feel so scared, I’m just minding my own business, and what if I’d built a nest in one of those bushes, the men don’t give a shit, they don’t care, they just come along and rip it all out, they don’t care how ugly it all looks now, and even if they plant new bushes that will still take years to come back to being how it was. Mum and dad just came along and ripped me out, they didn’t care about me, they just took all they wanted and gave me nothing back. That’s how I feel, used, completely used by them. I was there for them, not for myself. They took me, all they wanted demanding I be how they want me to be, and I feel so hurt, so, so hurt. I feel hurt to the core of me that my own parents treated me like that, how unfair, how unkind, so many bad feelings, they made me feel so bad so many times. I can’t even remember feeling good with them. Always bad, just how it is in the world, there is always another bad thing. You hardly see anything that makes you feel good, always chopping more trees down and hardly replanting. Everything makes me feel so miserable, miserable, miserable, miserable, right to my core, nothing for me, it was all for them... that’s how I feel. Marion angrily said, I told you not to put my hand-cream away, I need it right to the end before we go out. I might have to feed the birds one last time. I’ve told you four times now, why don’t you remember? You make me feel like you don’t care about me. You don’t care how I like things, you don’t even think about me.
And that’s how my parents treated me. They made me feel like I didn’t exist. They didn’t take any notice of me unless they wanted me to do something for them. I was never allowed to have things how I wanted them. It was always as they wanted it and I just had to fit in. (I would have got angry with Marion for making me feel bad by saying I didn’t care about her, as I do. I would fight her - I do care about you, and she’d fight back saying well if you did consider me, you’d remembering what I’ve told you and not take the cream in. Now, years into my healing, I’ve given up the fight, and I’m able to admit that the truth is I don’t care about her. I treat her how I was treated. So now I can accept what she’s saying, and work more on myself and how I feel about not caring about her.) It’s true, I’m sorry, I don’t care. I don’t remember you saying it - shit four times. I just see it there and take it in. You’re like some dam robot, don’t you think for yourself, do I have to tell you everything what to do and when to do it! Yes, you do, that is how I am. I hate it, but it’s true. And yes, I can see that really I do expect and need you to tell me what to do in every second of my life. I can’t do it. I don’t remember, I erase it all immediately you’ve told me. I hate doing it, but I admit that’s what I do. Shit it’s the first time I can actually accept that about myself, that I do such a bad thing, that I am in such a bad state. It’s exactly how they treated me, they’ve made me be this way and I’m powerless to do anything about it. And worse still, I don’t want to do anything for them, I don’t want to remember, I don’t want to have any life with them. And as they didn’t allow me to anyway, so it’s easier for me to just forget it all, it didn’t do me any good trying to remember as I also got that wrong too, they were always changing how they wanted it to be. I never knew what to do, it was better that I gave up, shit, leave it all to them, they can do it all, it’s how they want to be. They’d yell at me for not remembering to, for not doing what they said, and yet they didn’t even allow me to do it, so what was the point in remembering. Fuck I feel so confused, so angry, so annoyed with myself being this way, but I also feel more accepting. I’m sorry, but I can’t change, I’ve tried to be how you and they want me to be, but I can’t, I just can’t do it anymore. And I have to give up trying. I just have to fully admit that I’m a useless bastard in life, and I can’t have a good relationship with you, it’s never going to happen. And that’s okay, for at least you’re admitting it and that’s all you need to do. I don’t mind really, I can deal with it all, all so long as you’re being true to how you are. It’s when you say you’re not how you are that’s what makes me angry, and that’s what I’ve been trying to break down in you and trying to get you to see. So at least you’re being truer, and it’s right what you’re saying, I can see that, it is how you are. But I’m not going to tell how what to do all the time. No, and I don’t want you to. Keep telling me how bad I am by disrespecting you and your feelings, so I can see it too, so I can bring it all out. And although I’m feeling so fucked, I do feel better not trying to fight and resist you. Shit I can see it - feel it, I remember that’s how it was, how it’s always been, it’s how I am, I can see more clearly for myself. Oh but I feel so fucked, I am fucked, just fucked. I can’t do anything for myself. I’m useless in life, I can’t be with another person, I can’t. It’s no use, I’ve tried to remember all the things as you want them to be, but I can’t anymore, it’s all too hard. And I know I’m not meant to use my mind even though that’s what I’ve been trying to do, but I can’t even do that anymore. I feel too tired, too weak, too pathetic - too bad. I am fucked, my head hurts over here on the left hand side, that’s a good sign, possibly another break through into my fuckedness, but still I feel so bad. And I do, I have to fully admit and accept that really the truth is I want you to do everything for me. I am still the little baby and I need you to look after me, it’s safer that way, you just tell me how to be in every moment, then I don’t have to think about it, I don’t have to do anything, I will do all you say, go along with you and you won’t get angry with me, you won’t yell at me and make me feel unloved and bad. And I can see, that’s how it was with mum, really even though I have tried to resist and maintain my own independence, on another level in me I haven’t. I’ve completely given up and in, I can’t fight her, she’s too powerful, too strong, too dominating. So I have given in. And Gran and dad always said to just do what you mother asks so she doesn’t get angry, so I got no help from them. I had nowhere to go, no alternative but to just give myself up, and wait for her to tell me what to do all the time. Her and Gran were always telling me what to do, and it was always as if I’d never been there before and it was only the first time. They needed absolute control, I couldn’t take anything into my own hands and go with it knowing this is our life and this is what we do. I couldn’t, I had to be their shadow or extension or something like that, some part of them which they believed they had to keep telling what to do all the time. They must have thought I was a complete idiot, and that’s how I feel, like I’m completely stupid, not being able to think for myself, always needing them to control me. Shit I feel bad. I feel so bad, you have no idea how bad I feel. (As the truth comes I feel more and more fucked. I can’t even express these bad feelings - I can only be them. It being how I’ve always felt.) My head hurts, I’m so fed up with feeling so powerless, that I don’t have a life of my own. I’m always being told by other people what to do, mum is in everyone. I can’t go out without everyone telling me what to do, the government tells me what to do, in a job I’m told what to do, I live with Marion as if she’s mum telling me what to do all the time. What to do and how to be, always they know and I don’t. Always they know what’s best and right for me and I have to listen to them, and worse agree with them even though I don’t want to do most of what they say. I can’t go and have my own life, it sounds so simple, to go out into life and make it be how I want it to be, but I feel scared and angry all the time, and why I do is because underlying everything I’m not free of mum as I believed. I’m still with her, I’m still the young child even at fifty-one.
I feel so pathetic, so stupid, to useless, and it’s never been any different. I’ve deluded myself that I have done and could do what I want to do, but it’s all crap, as I don’t. Underneath it all I still feel bad, I might feel good for a short time in a new job or doing something new but it doesn’t last long, and very soon I’m right back where I always am, feeling the same, feeling like I’m not actually doing it for myself, I’m doing it all for someone else. She made me put myself aside so I could get on with her, all to stop her yelling at me and to make her love me. So I gave myself away, I had to rely and be dependent on her, I couldn’t have my own say, be self-determining, it all had to - I had to be, all her way. And that’s how I am, and I hate it, I’m so fucking angry with it, and it’s come up again today and I have roaring and splitting headache from the stress of it. From feeling so powerless, so pathetic, so unloved and uncared about. I can’t care about myself, I can’t even have a good relationship with Marion or anyone because I’m not my true self, I’m some mutant creature a product of my mother. Fuck I feel bad, so fucking bad, and so fed up with feeling like this. So many fucking years, over and over again, my whole life I’ve felt this way. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Ah no! Not another one, another dead goose lying sprawled out on the side of the road. Who could do it, who could run one of them over. The Cape Barren geese are so lovely, so beautiful, and they do seem to like walking on the road. I wish it wouldn’t happen, so many hoons driving around looking for something to run over and kill. I can’t see that it was done by accident, not here in this place, it’s not as if you couldn’t see it, even though being mostly grey they do blend in at times with their surroundings being very difficult to see.
And how does it make me feel other than upset and sad - how do I feel? I feel hit, as if it’s me, that I’ve been hit. First I feel that it’s something I like that’s been taken away from me, I can’t enjoy life, I have the things in life I love and want. All the nice things are taken from me and I feel so sad, I don’t want to live in a life in which all the nice things I like are killed. I want them all to be there for me, and I don’t want to have to worry about them. I feel so hurt, as if I am the goose and I’ve been run over. They have killed me, they didn’t care about me, they didn’t see me, they just ran over me, possibly might have even enjoyed doing it. And that all makes me feel very bad. No one cares about me, I don’t mean anything to them. I’m a beautiful little person, but they don’t care about me, they run me over, they rail-road me, they just bulldoze me aside, not caring about my feelings, about how I see and feel about things. Everything has to be how they want it to be, and anything that’s not, all those parts of me that didn’t fit in with them, all had to be killed. Just run over, squashed out of existence. Then can all keep living and living their great and happy lives, but like the goose, my life is over, I can’t live my life how I want to live it. The goose isn’t allowed to be as it wants to be, it gets in the way, it’s a nuisance slowly walking up the road with everyone having to wait for it to get off and out of the way, so it has to be told to get out of the way, and if it doesn’t obey quickly enough it’s hit. And that’s how they treated me, with absolutely no respect. They didn’t give a shit about me, all their crap about loving me, and doing everything for me, and they existing for me their child, and yet the truth is I’m an inconvenience, something they wish they didn’t have to deal with, something they could just run over and get out of their lives, something they didn’t have to think about. Just kill it. I wish they’d just killed me, it would have been a lot easier on all of us. As I walked across the nature-strip having left the health food shop I noticed a junior magpie, this years, and I felt sad. I’d been feeling all right, but as soon as I saw it I felt sad. Another bad feeling to express.
Previously, before I’d become more aware of my feelings, I would have quickly dismissed this bad feeling, I’d not want to feel sad, and besides, I’d been feeling okay. I’d enjoyed talking with the people in the shop and was happy that we’d got most of our bread for the closed period over Christmas. And it would have been so easy to just keep going, to cancel out or push aside, to override the sad feeling, but that’s not how I want to live. I’ve changed, and I want to try and acknowledge and express all such feelings, even odd ones like this that suddenly come up, seemingly for no reason. Why had seeing the young bird made me feel bad - sad, particularly when it was a striking young adult striding confidently around. I waited until I got back home so I could speak about all I felt with Marion. I felt sad because that’s where the year previously we’d had a bit to do with the junior magpies and especially a cute little runt fellow who would sit in the tree above people walking just below him preening away seemingly oblivious to us humans. But now those three juniors had gone, having been pushed off into life by the parents, and they’d had another baby. I felt sad that I couldn’t see the little one we’d like to watch around that area when we went to the church market each month, something I’d liked had been taken away from me - again, like how it was with the dead goose. But there is something more, something deeper - why do I feel sad. Sad, sad, I feel say, very sad, torn apart sad, hurt, miserable, filled with misery. Why, why was I feeling so sad, the feelings getting stronger and stronger. I longed for the truth. Then I felt there was more I could say. I felt like in some way it was me, I had been the little magpie Marion and I had liked so much, but now he was gone. Now I had gone, as if some part of me had gone. Or... or was it that I had gone, all of me in some way. Then I felt like I was very young, my brother and sister had come into the world and with each of them I’d felt I’d gone further away. They were more important than I, they were now the main focus of everyone’s attention. First my brother and my sister, and she being the girl and all cute, less and less did I feel like anyone liked or wanted me. Sure I was there as part of the family, even being needed more by mum to help her with the others, but I was fading away, I was no longer the main focus, it was all becoming more for them and less for me. And I felt sad, sad that I had to go, like the little junior pushed off into life, but unlike him, I didn’t feel prepared to go nor did I want to. He’d been parented with perfect natural magpie love, I’d not had the love I needed, and now I was fading away as if a part of me was receding into the background, withering away - dying. My life was meant to be still powering up, but I feel like I was going the other way, and I’ve never come back from there. Marion:
I’m always so scared, that’s how I am, in a perpetual state of fear. I’m scared of bad things happening to me all the time, at any moment the next bad thing is going to happen. I can’t say what exactly it is, just everything. I’ve always felt this way, it was this way for me at home with mum and dad. I could never rest, I never had time to myself, I never felt safe and secure. At any moment they would be nasty to me, always getting me to do what they wanted, never allowing me to have my own life, to make up my own mind about things. They told me what to do all the time, and as I could never do what they asked very well, then they’d get angry and stop me doing it making me do something else, but I always had to do something. I feel like I’m a horse that’s been broken in, it can’t have its own life, it always has to be there for everyone else, doing what everyone wants and when they want to do it. And I’m one of those poor old nag horses, not one that’s loved and looked after well within it’s confined life. I never got a say, I could never say no, and only now can I say no but that’s nothing, that’s only for a moments reprieve, when I have to rest, when I can’t do all I’m told to do. And once I’ve rested I have to get back into it, into doing it all for them, never for myself. I don’t have anything for myself, I don’t know what that’s like, I’ve never had anything I’ve done solely for myself. It’s always been for everyone else. I’d pick relationships to be in so I could do things for the other person, it was always all for them, never all for me. It was always for mum and dad and I can’t change it, and more and more I feel cemented into being this way. It is how I am. I feed the birds as a job, nothing more. It’s as if mum and dad have told me to feed them, so that’s what I do. As soon as a bird comes, and I always have to be on the look out and ready for them, I jump up to do my job. And every so often when too many of them come at once I have to rest or try and say no, but as soon as I’ve rested, up I get having to keep going with my job. My life is a job, I hate it, I’ve never liked anything about. So many other people at least enjoy their work but I’ve always hated it. I’ve had to work, but that’s how it was, I had to always work at home, always right from the very beginning. I wasn’t allowed to go off and play with friends, nothing being asked or expected of me. I didn’t have friends, how could I as I was always having to help mum and dad. I feel so angry about it, I have a nothing life, I’m such a nothing person, I feel so bad, so useless, so scared all the time. Always so scared that they’ll ask me to do something else, but I can’t do anything else, I already can’t do what they want me to do. It’s too much for me, I wasn’t like the trojan person my mother was, they’d killed all the spirit in me and then they’d yell at me for not being like my mother. I’m so sick of being how I am, I hate myself, my life, and it’s never been any different. The bloody smoke detector started to beep at three o-clock in the morning. I woke up with a fright, what was that noise. Then it beeped again, oh the fucking thing, such a pointless thing we have to have in the house. One person dies and so everyone has to now have these horrible smoke detectors.
I got up to bang and blow on it once my eyes had adjusted to the light. The last time it was a baby huntsman spider that kept triggering it having found a nice home for himself. Nothing crawled out of it this time. Then suddenly it went off, the ear-piercing noise, enough to drive you mad. And what to do, it’s wired into the roof, I wanted to rip it out, the fucking thing. I wanted to scream running away, I jammed it back in its slot and twisted back into place and thankfully that shut it up. I got back into bed, and was just about asleep again, and beep! I couldn’t sleep. Marion got up, dawn was just breaking anyway, about her usual getting up time. I lay there feeling scared, scared of the alarm going off again at any moment, scared of life, scared of everything. There’s always so many things to worry about. If you don’t have the alarm then you’re going to burn to death. I wish I could and just get it over with. It’s such a moronic life we create for ourselves and I feel so powerless within it. But it’s more than just dealing with the smoke detector, it’s much deeper fears in me it’s triggering, what are they, I want to know, I’m sick of always feeling there are deeper fears in me that need to surface but are mostly just out of reach. I begged the Mother to show me the truth of them, to help me feel more of my repressed feelings. I lay there under the blankets balled up in a fetal position. I feel like that, like I’m in the womb being assailed on all sides by things scaring the shit of me. I never feel settled, comfortable, like I can relax. I always feel scared, and even more scared now that I’m no longer trying to block out such fear. I must have dosed off as suddenly I was a little boy, and I was in a desperate state, crying my heart out for mum, just like those little boys I’d seen at the Fishing Park. I don’t know why I was crying, I just wanted her. Then I woke up. I could feel-remember myself crying like that, many times when I was young. I don’t know what had happened to me, and it doesn’t matter, the problem was I was crying like that. I focused on my feelings. I felt so miserable, distraught feeling so unloved, she wasn’t there, she was never there as I needed her to be, and now I know it’s her and dad that made me feel so unloved in the first place. The bad things that happened to me only stirred up how I was already feeling, for as I saw with the little children at the Fishing Park, the things they cried about wouldn’t have upset them had they felt fully loved by their parents. The same things happened to other children and they didn’t cry even relishing the situations, these children obviously feeling more secure with and loved by their parents. I felt more sorry for myself. I feel so alone, so hurt, so afraid. I never feel anyone is there for me, no one ever has been. People, mum and dad have been around, but they weren’t there for me. They’d not given themselves to me, and I feel so lost, so unwanted, so scared all the time. And never sure of myself, never knowing what I’m meant to do, and if what I’m doing is right. I feel so insecure, so afraid that I’m going to be left for good and no one will ever come back for me. Scared, scared, always so scared. I get up having to speak all I feel to Marion. She’s there for me, but it’s still not the same thing, she’s not mum and dad. Left for good. That’s right, that’s how I feel.
Left for good, it’s such a horrible scary feeling. What is going to happen to me. I’m alone, standing there, I don’t know where. No one is with me. I don’t know where mum and dad are - where are they, I want them, why aren’t they with me. Why am I alone. I wish they would come, scared, scared, so scared. Marion asks me: what are you so scared about? What are you afraid of is going to happen to you? I don’t know. I never fucking know when she asks me about my deeper feelings. I blunder on trying to express my bad feelings of feeling so scared. I don’t know, I feel scared, what do I feel scared about it, I don’t know. Don’t worry then, just concentrate on feeling scared. Scared, scared, scared, I feel scared, I’m all shaky, like I’ve had a fright, or... or, I’m about to. Yes I’m scared that I’m about to get shocked, much bigger than a fright, that something is going to come out of the blue and scare the shit out of me. Something or someone Marion asks me. Some... someone, someone like a man, a man, like dad, yes, it’s fucking dad, he’s going to suddenly come at me, yelling at me, and smacking me. Why, she asks. I don’t know, I’m just petrified that at any moment he’s going to hit me. I don’t know why, that’s how it was, I don’t know what I was doing, I can’t remember, but suddenly he’d grab me, smacking me. And how did his hitting you make you feel? Even more scared. Angry. I feel now I’m really angry at him for hitting me, but I also feel I can’t do anything about it. He’s too strong, he’s too powerful, I can’t do anything, and if I struggle it only makes it worse, he hits me more. I hate him, I hate him hitting me. How dare he hit me, his own son. Why doesn’t he love me, why didn’t he love me, if you love someone you don’t hit them. I feel so angry, I wish I could go back and smash the shit out of him, to fuck him right off, to tell him he has no fucking right hitting me, how dare he, such disrespect, and I can’t believe there was anything I could have done being so little and young that would have deserved that, that would have been so bad. I feel like I’m a criminal, and he’s punishing me, but for what, and I don’t care now, the fucking arsehole - I hate him with all my being. My own fucking father, whom I used to feel I loved, Ha!, fuck that, there’s no love. There never was. I had to love him, he was my father, and I needed him to love. I want to feel loved, I want to be loved, I want someone to love me. Will anyone ever love me?
I feel yukky. Just more of my yuk bad feelings. How many times have I felt this way over my healing years - throughout my whole life. It’s a feeling of feeling down, slightly depressed and miserable. I don’t feel up and happy. It’s as if I’m always struggling to keep my head above water. I struggle away, that being my life. I hardly ever feel like I’m flying along and lighter than air. I always feel everything is hard for me, always such a strain. I sit on the couch, more bad feelings I’ve got to make the effort to try and express. Fuck this bad feeling expression stuff, I’m fed up with it. Marion says it’s you, it’s your life, it’s you coming out into the life, the real and true you that’s been locked away. And yeah, I know, but fuck it, it’s too hard always having to try and drag my bad feelings out, as that’s how I feel it is. With Marion her feelings always seem to be bursting out of her, with me, they are nowhere to be seen, other than this usual all so familiar dull, drag, bored, nothing, yuk, bad feeling I have. I try to express it, and I long for the truth of it. So here we go again, just the same old shit. I feel yuk, it’s my down, heavy, dull, I feel fucked, feeling. Nothing good ever happens for me, I don’t have anything to look forward to, I feel so depressed. I can hardly get up off the couch to do anything, breathing is a struggle, fuck I wish I could get to the bottom of it - what is it, why do I always feel like this. I feel drained of energy, like my spirit has been sapped out of me. I feel like it’s been taken from me, and it’s still being taken from me. I feel like it’s not my own, I’m not free to have my own spirit and power and energy, it’s all for them, they have brought me into the world to leech me dry, to use me, to tap into my own power and take it from me. I feel sucked dry, drained of all life. What’s the point - what’s the fucking point. I feel so down, always so miserable, so little good ever happens and even if it does, the good feelings don’t last long, it’s as if I’m not allowed to have them. ‘Now james, that’s enough of that, too much and you’ll overdo it, now settle down, you’ll only hurt yourself, calm down’, Gran’s words come into my mind. And that’s how it always was. I could never be happy and excited, she always put the dampener on everything. No james, stop being like that, stop feeling good and happy, stop feeling bad and unhappy, just be nothing, sit quietly, stay still, don’t be like your mother always rushing here and there and for no reason. You stay here with me, that’s right, you be still, good, that’s how good little boys are, that’s the right way for them to behave. Fuck you Gran and your good little boy shit. Shit to have had to grow up subjected to all that crap. It’s no fucking wonder I feel like shit, so down and with no life in me. She didn’t let me express any of my feelings, she was unfeeling, she sure didn’t express any of her feelings. And what a dull boring life, she and Reg were so dull and boring, it was only that I liked what she cooked for me and I liked going fishing with Reg that I enjoyed anything with them. But how fucked their relationship was, no wonder he died of cancer, and she saying after he’d died that she’d realised she didn’t know how much pain he was actually in. They obviously never talked about it, you weren’t to feel bad, you sure weren’t to express bad feelings. So he was slowly dying for ten years going through all those agonising medical things and yet she, his wife, never knew in how much pain he was. There both at fault of course, but what a nothing, dead relationship they had. And I spent so much time with them when I was young. No wonder I feel like I’m slowly dying and in so much pain and that no one wants to know about me. No wonder I can’t express myself, no one wants me to, no one is interested in how I feel. Reg’s mother didn’t give a shit about him, so he couldn’t come out and tell the world how fucking awful he felt, let alone his wife. Ah fuck, it’s all so fucking bad, all our lives, such shit, such nothing, and what’s it all for. I feel miserable, I’m going to sit on this couch forever feeling the life being drained and sucked out of me. I’ll probably die of cancer as well, and I won’t be able to say how bad I feel, having to keep all the pain to myself. Dad was the same, he never said how bad he felt - never, even when he had a cold. And his body ate him away also, the same as Reg, so fuck the two major male influences in my life died the same horrible way. What fucking hope do I have, what do I have to look forward to, it all makes me feel so scared... oh shit - more bad feelings to try and talk about! Endless fucking bad feelings. Bad, bad, bad, I feel bad again.
What sort of bad? Bad, angry, very angry... What about? Just angry at everything. Can you be more specific? Angry at the world, I don’t know, angry at everything, at everyone. I’m angry that they’ve chopped those trees down, I’m angry that all the houses are so ugly and so few people plant any trees. I’m angry that we don’t love nature more and live for nature, it being the only good thing on the planet. I’m angry that so many people just love their things, their gadgets and don’t give a shit about the birds and other creatures. That tree was where the magpies nested and now they’ve got to find another tree and trees are becoming scare around here. Why can’t we people love all the creatures, see them as part of our lives, treating them with care and affection. I hate it all, I hate all people, I hate everything. Ok, but now make it personal, what is it that’s really making you feel angry? Oh I don’t know, shit I hate it when you ask me that, how the fuck do I know, if I knew I’d be saying it. FUCK I FEEL SO FUCKING ANGRY - WHY DO I FEEL SO FUCKING ANGRY, WHAT IS IT THAT’S MAKING ME FEEL SO ANGRY; I WILL TELL YOU WHAT IT IS, IT’S THE FACT THAT I DON’T FEEL LOVED, MY PARENTS DIDN’T MAKE ME FEEL LOVED. ALL I HAVE THAT I LIKE IN THE WORLD IS A FEW TREES AND BIRDS AND BUGS AND CATERPILLARS AND MY FISH, THAT WAS ALL I HAD WHEN I WAS YOUNG - NATURE, AND I COULDN’T EVEN BE WITH THEM, I COULD ONLY WATCH THEM, I COULDN’T BE WITH MUM AND DAD, THEY WERE ALWAYS BUSYING DOING THEIR WORK OR WHATEVER IT WAS, THEY DIDN’T WANT TO BE WITH ME ALL THE TIME - THAT’S WHAT I’M FUCKING ANGRY ABOUT. It’s the same old thing, I’m fucking angry because I don’t feel loved. I don’t feel loved to the core of me, saturated with love, with love pouring into me and flooding out of me. I feel hated by them, just how these people feel about nature, chopping down the magpies nest-tree, the tree that all the bugs and native bees and beetles and wasps, all the little creatures need. That they have no feeling for it, such a beautiful tree, just as they had no feelings for me. I was a beautiful little boy, all children are, and yet the cut me down, they didn’t care what I felt or cared about, what I needed and wanted. That’s what’s making me feel so angry - THAT THEY DIDN’T LOVE ME! Marion:
What am I going to do, what am I going to do. I’m so bored, I have a nothing life, I’ve only ever done what everyone else wants, what other people have wanted me to do, I’ve never done anything for myself. I’m such a useless person, I don’t do anything, everyone else does their things, they all have a purpose in their lives, but I don’t, I don’t have any. I’m bad, bad, bad, bad, I’m a bad person. I feed the birds and can’t stop, it’s probably not good for them, I mess up and ruin their lives, but I can’t stop. And I don’t even do it for myself, it’s not even that I’m doing just because I want to do it. I’m doing it for them, they only have to look at me and I have to give them some more. And that’s how it was with mum and dad. Nothing was for me, it was all for them, I only did what they told me, they only had to look at me and I had to respond doing what they wanted. I never did what I wanted. Oh, what’s going to happen to me, I’m so useless, sitting here doing nothing but reading about other people’s lives, I don’t have a life, they all have one, they can all write books about their lives, I’ve got nothing to write about - I don’t have a life! I feel so miserable, so bad, I’m such a bad person, I’m so untrue, so far away from my true self, and I feel so bad. Bad, bad, bad, I’m bad and I feel bad. Bad - I’m just one big bad. What is going to happen to me, would you please hit me on the head and put my body in a hole and that will be the end of me. Just throw my body over there under those trees, that’s all you need to do, I’m nothing anyway, just a bag of bones and flesh, nothing more, there’s no real me... Miserable, I feel so miserable, sixty-one years feeling exactly the same, nothing’s ever changed, I’ve tried lots of things, but it’s only been what other people want me to do - nothing that I’ve genuinely wanted to do myself. I feel so awful, all I’ve got is the birds to feed and I know it’s all wrong, and I know I shouldn’t give it to them, but I feel bad because I want to give it to them, I feel such a mess, I feel so bad, I feel so horrible, I don’t know what to do, I feel so horrible, I want to feed them and I don’t, I wish I could stop but I can’t. I don’t know what to do, horrible, I feel so bad, so horrible, and they love it so much but it’s so bad for them, and I can’t stop, I feel so miserable, I never knew it could be like this, they love it so much, always wanting it, but it gets too much for me, why do they keep coming, it’s not their natural food. I feel so confused, I don’t understand, I feel so mad, so demented, it’s all too much, I wish it would end, I wish you’d kill me, or someone would take me away, put in an institution, stop me from doing it. |
If you’re scared of anything, it’s because you’ve already been made to be scared of it by your parents. If your parents hadn’t done it to you making you scared, you’d not know it was scary.
Everything you feel scared and angry about is really your parents. Everything that makes you feel hurt, miserable, sad, depressed is really your parents. It’s all your parents, we only project onto everyone and everything else as the cause of our troubles because we refuse to acknowledge the truth that it’s all being done to us, as it has already all been done to us, by our parents.
If you got lots of love, support, affection and care during your forming years, you’ll feel good about yourself, happy in life and strong in your self-conviction. The opposite to how one feels if one grew up in an environment of constant chastisement and criticism. And it’s so fucking unfair when you feel like you’re the piece of shit they didn’t give a stuff about. And so your whole life is fucked being unable to do anything other than all the stupid things you do trying to make yourself cope day to day, trying to stop yourself from smashing your face into a wall and getting it over and done with once and for all.
If only they would love us...
If we could only do the magical thing - make them love us. But they won’t, they can’t, they never will, it’s all too late. And you have got to accept this. As hard as it is - THEY DON’T LOVE YOU! They should, but they don’t. And they should be thrown out, not you. You love them; they don’t love you. You are not at fault - they are. We all want to be loved by everyone let alone our parents. And I say it again: IT’S NOT YOUR FAULT, IT WASN’T YOUR FAULT, you were - are still the child. The child is NOT AT FAULT, it can’t be, it’s only a child, it NEVER can be. The child is NEVER the wrong one, it’s the adults, the parents, the carers - the grown ups. So you’re not to blame, the child is not bad, it can’t be, it’s unformed, it’s coming into being, it doesn’t know what it’s doing, it’s following its parents lead. If your parents hate what you do and how you are, it’s because they’ve made you be that way. You couldn’t help it, you had no say in it, it was all controlled by them. So when are you going to face it’s never going to happen, they will never love you, if they haven’t done so by now, it’s not going to happen, not unless they do their full soul- or feeling-healing. But of course you can’t be the bad one and reject them, you have keep hoping they will love you, you have to keep doing all you can in the hope they will change, that they will turn around and start being nice to you - that they will start loving you. You can’t give up, of course not, because if you do and you do accept they don’t love you, and if you can manage to deal with all those terrible feelings that come up in you as you accept you feel so unloved and even hated by them, then you are going to reject them. We naturally reject the one who doesn’t love us. The one who is mean to us, who hurts us, who hates us, who disrespects us, so we’ll reject them. But then, so you believe, you’ll be the bad one by rejecting them, and being the bad one is not what you can ever be because they will reject you and then they will never love you - BUT THEY DON’T LOVE YOU ALREADY. You have nothing to lose by turning your back on them as they are not loving you. You have only the hope they will possibly one day love you, but they won’t, or if they ever do it will be a long time in coming, and as you’ve already done all you can to make them love you and they haven’t done so, so you may as well give up and get on with your life without them. Let them come to you when they are ready and wanting to love. They aren’t ready and don’t want to now, because if they were they would be loving you. So you have to take the risk, you have to reject them, you have to be the ‘bad’ one and face their rejection. But as they are already rejecting you, nothing will change. So you can be on your side, you are the child, they hurt you, you didn’t hurt them, they are the adult, they can take care of themselves, but you can’t, you’re too young (even though your now an adult), you need them, but they are not there for you. They have to answer for what they didn’t give you, you don’t have to answer to them. They committed the crime, they are the ones who sinned, not you. They are the ones who should feel guilty, not you; they did all the bad things by not loving you, by not treating you with kindness, love and respect, by not caring about you and your feelings. THEY ARE THE BAD ONES - NOT YOU! You have all rights, and so you should, turn your back on them, walk away, let them rot in hell. You owe them nothing, they owe you everything they didn’t give you, all that love. They are the parents, it’s their responsibility to look after you, not yours to look after them. However I understand, it’s very hard to do. It’s all one way - their way, and because they withheld their love. And until you receive that love (unless you do your healing) you’ll still remain attached to them, you can’t fully separate from them as they’ve not allowed you to form properly. So until you’ve let that part of you come out fully, you’ll not be free. But you can want to be free, and speak about all the bad feelings that come up, whilst wanting to uncover the truth of why you have them. They denied you the love you needed to properly form, you gave yourself to them, but they didn’t give themselves back to you. You haven’t individualised fully, you’re still under their yoke, they took all you gave, giving you nothing back in return. So you’re captured ‘in’ them forever, waiting for them to let you go, which will only happen when they fully love you - which is not going to happen. So all you can do is seek to fully love yourself, to give yourself the love they didn’t give you through your healing. This is your only option, because you can be as good as you can to them, but it’s never going to change them. You can bend over backwards for them, give your whole heart and soul for them, look after them forevermore, but they are never going to relent using you for your love, the love you freely give them, all whilst not giving any of their love back in return. So I say it again, had they truly loved you, they still would be truly loving you, and you’d feel so happy and loving of them. But as you don’t, to that’s the truth - they didn’t love you, and as hard as it is to accept - THEY NEVER WILL. It’s not going to happen because it didn’t happen. And if you keep doing all you can to please them, then you’re only hanging onto living with your torturer, still allowing them to torture you, and all in the hope that just once they will love you. And now your torturer is the world, you’re consumed by it. So do all you can to maintain it, it’s all you have, your security, your ‘love’ - and you are never going to give it up. It’s all a madness, yet how else can it be when you were parented by madmen and madwomen, people who themselves were never loved, so have no love to give. How did you grow up?
Did you: Come out of the womb naturally. Where both your parents there to welcome you. Had your parents had a loving and fully supportive relationship with each other before your conception and through the pregnancy. Did they truly want you, or was if a fantasy they wanted. We’re they living true to themselves or where had they both come together hoping to fulfil their fantasies. Did you come out of your mother into her loving arms and onto her breast. Was her breast, her love flowing always to you. Did she, did both your parents, want to give themselves wholly to you. Did your mother eat only organic food with which to pass onto you when you were inside her. Did you sleep with your parents, never being left alone, never being put in another room when you were a baby and very young. Where they really and literally - always there for you. Did they allow you to fully express yourself all the time. Did they allow you to cry. Did they unconditionally accept you, never telling you how to be or what to do when you didn’t want to do it, never forcing you against your will, never making you feel angry with them, never rejecting you, never making you feel unloved. Did they always encourage your self-expression. Did they allow you to always be free to be yourself. Free to follow them, if that’s what you felt you wanted to do, free to work things out for yourself. Did they keep you well informed of all that concerned you, all they were doing, so you always understood what was going in your little world. Did they keep you free from medical interference. Free from religious dogma, free from being forced to go to school. Did they encourage you to be free to express every thought and feeling, they always being there and wanting to listen to you - never being too busy and having no time for you. Did you always feel totally enveloped in your parents lives, never being left at kindy or with a baby sitter against your wishes. Never forced to do anything you didn’t want to do. Never made to be a substitute parent for your siblings. Where you free to die. We you always respected, always considered, always made to feel you were a very special part of the family. That they always liked and loved you - you, just you for being yourself, how you naturally were, and not something they wanted you to be. Did they truly love you? Natural birth encourages freedom of expression — when the hormones are flowing you have to open your mouth and let it out. You can’t maintain control, the mother and everyone involved having to give over and submit to the process. And how much better is it for the new baby person to come into that sort of loving environment, there to meet its parents face to face, than in the contrived, controlled, impersonal, feeling-less hospital delivery room.
Birth, like death, and all life in between, is a spiritual experience if we are free to fully express all our feelings. And in doing so, the truth will come, and we’ll evolve our soul and personality expression.
The new mother said it was an instant love affair between herself and her baby. She adored it, not wanting to take her eyes off her newborn, always wanting to be there with it, wanting to give it her whole heart and soul. I live with a great sadness that my mother didn’t love me like that.
What horrors happened to you at the hospital during your birth. They’ve all gone into and become a part of you. And they’ve all got to come out.
Your true friend
They help you to no longer feel alone as you’ve talked out all your feelings and they understand. And as they understand, so too do you - understand the truth of yourself. And you no longer feel rejected, which is what your bad feelings make you feel. As your friend accepts you so you accept yourself, just as your parents should have accepted you. And did my mother fall in a heap when I turned my back on her? No. She carried on as usual without me. The truth is there is you want to see it.
Over and over you keep trying to appeal to them hoping they’ll finally accept you, care about you, and love you. But it doesn’t ever happen. So one day you have to summons the courage and say Fuck Off to them. You have to reject them. And it will take your whole healing to fully accomplish the task.
I’ve finally realised that I don’t actually want to smash everyone and everything like I’ve felt so many times through my healing, and that in fact it’s myself I want to smash. I can feel it. SHIT CAN I FEEL IT! I am the horrible rotten thing that shouldn’t exist. I am bad and wrong. I am hated. I should be thrown away, ignored and rejected. It’s right, because I’m unlovable. That’s how they made me feel.
We have to be true to our unlovedness.
Humanity has written endless books portraying the condition we’re in. Now we need endless books written about peoples personal healing experiences and all the truth they have come to see.
Being the eldest
It’s so unfair being the eldest and having to always ‘set the example’. Everyone else can be as they want to be, but you can’t, you have to be different, another way - not like them. You grow up in your family and they all think you’re the same as them, but you’re not. It’s not for you as it is for them. And that effects your whole life. We end up accepting that we couldn’t have done it any other way, we couldn’t have been another way. All we can do is keep going into and accepting the pain, coming out the other side fully accepting oneself.
What’s it all about? Finding out the truth of our unloved state.
And through your healing you’ll find out just how loved you feel. And who loved you, and correspondingly, who didn’t love you, and how much love they’ve deprived you of. Facing the terror of annihilation
We have face the terror of annihilation. What does it feel like, why do you feel that way? We have to face our feelings of rejection, abandonment, hatred, not feeling wanted, feeling unloved. All of which make us feel like we’re ceasing to exist, our whole existence being threatened. And on all levels of personality, not just fearing physical death. It’s about:
Being able to tell the truth of yourself, bringing all the truth of yourself out, and living it properly — truly, and no longer being untrue. Your life is your relationship with yourself, and you need your true self, not your false and superficial self, the true and real you that was killed and had to remain hidden whilst you put the show on. Follow your feelings?
Ideally that’s how we’re to live, however in our fucked up negative reality, to follow them would only lead us further astray. So we have to speak about seeking their truth, rather than just trying to act on them. And as we become truer, then so too do our feelings, and also our actions. You feel hungry and what to eat, so eat - following your feelings. However you know you’re over eating and don’t want to eat so much. So you understand these hunger feelings are not true, or rather they are true feelings, as a feeling is a feeling, but it’s coming from beliefs and causes within you that are out of harmony with yourself, that are not based on truth. The true you might not be hungry; you being hungry for all sorts of reasons, all of which will come to light as you express your feelings and seek the truth of them. So all we can do is go into our feelings by speaking them out of us, by speaking about them, emoting the feeling we’re feeling as we talk about them. All whilst longing for and uncovering the reasons why we feel them. And as we progress in uncovering the truth of ourselves, so all our negative unloving self-rejecting beliefs and mind control leaves us, allowing our feelings to be expressed based on the truth we’re living. So only when we are true can we then declare and know for ourselves that our feelings are all true, that we’re at-one with ourselves and at-one with our soul, and so at-one with God - at least on a feeling level. Any unhappiness you have within you, you’ll project onto your children. Really, if you are unhappy in any way, not completely 100% happy, then you shouldn’t have children, because you’ll damage them.
As a child you don’t want to do it but you have to do it. So you switch off and do it. And go through the remainder of your life like that. Doing your feeling-healing is switching back on - but fuck it’s hard to do.
No one is going to control you with your children. So you can dump all your shit on them and no one is going to say no you can’t and punish you. And the child won’t reject you so it’s all there for you, all you’ve ever dreamed of, all there for you to do whatever you like with.
We follow our parents, it’s just too bad they weren’t prefect and loving. A child asks you to give yourself to it, however it’s such a pity that means for many children they get all their parents shit.
You can get something of a gauge on how you’ve buried your early childhood feelings by not remembering all the bad things that happened to you. If you don’t remember, you’ve blanked them out - blanked out all the bad feelings. And we can swear on the Holy Bible that we didn’t do something when we were young, completely having blanked it out, and yet through ones healing it will come to light. Suddenly, you will remember - when it’s time for you to remember.
We blank it out so we can go on, that’s what’s so damaging.
That’s right, hold it all in and be pleasant.
Put your hand up if you want to confront your demons.
You’ve got to do it sometime.
And it could possibly be the hardest thing you've done. Turn your back on them. Say, No, No more. I reject you. I don’t want to be with you. I don’t want your love. Say no to your mother and father. I never want to see you again. So if it comes to it, it’s got to be done. And done, once and for all. |
... on and on and on... and on and on and... when will it ever fucking end!