This is going to be big.
I’ve had a major revelation : I have been carrying the weight of and very slowly processing the trauma of being raped by a stranger when I was 4 years old for 46 years now, and counting.
That entire time, I have had this obscene presence squatting at the very center of my psyche and dominating everything I think, say, and do. It is the root cause of all my dysfunction and the main reason I find life to be so goddamned hard.
Because this massive injury takes up an enormous percentage of my mental resources just to contain and handle. It’s like a toxic waste dump in the middle of a town. Almost my entire psyche has been warped and twisted by the need to somehow continue functioning despite this heinous injury, and until I find some way to deal with it, my progress against my inanity will be incremental at best.
None of those elements are new. I have talked about “the Wound” before, for examplr.
It’s the perspective on the phenomenon as a whole which is new. Never before have I truly understood the enormity of the problem and just how huge an influence it has exerted over my entire life.
It is why I have alway been so weak and timid and shy. Its the part of me that ruthlessly vetoes any attempt to pull myself together and make something of myself. Its enormous drain on every aspect of my being is what makes it so hard for me to find the motivation to do pretty much anything.
Because whatever energy I might generate is immediately sucked away by the insatiable hunger of the Containment Project.
In theory, this energy is being stored for a “rainy day”, but in practice there are no conditions “rainy” enough for it to be accessed so it is essentially being hoarded.
And like all hoarding, no matter what trappings of practical purpose it may have adorned itself with in an attempt to camouflage itself, it is raving, ravenous madness at its core that like all addictions hollows out its victims by eliminating all other sources of reward.
I may have wandered off topic there but my point remains : this nightmare at the core of my very soul is the root cause of all my madness and the main thing keeping me from escaping this foul and fetid little ossuary of a life of mine and I am not going to get anywhere in the time between now and my bleeding demise unless I find some way to deal with it.
Like most things, that’s easier said than done. Like it or not (and for the record : not), this tumour of the mind sits right at the very root of my being and one does not change such an integral part of the foundation of one’s mind lightly.
But I’m on to it now. I have its scent. I know where it lives. I can begin the long hunt for this malevolent beast from prehistoric times in earnest.
And mark my words : the beast will die.
I want my life back, god damn it.
And I finally know who took it from me.
More after the break.
Quick recommend : an excellent gay porn furry comic.
The sex isn’t important, it’s the warmth between the two men that I love.
Check it out!
Approaching oblivion and gaining speed
Like a galaxy, I have a massive black hole at my center. And everything within me orbits that dark star whether it knows it or not.
Well, I guess everyone knows it now.
And I know that in order to free myself from the dark star’s oppression, I am going to have to steer my little spaceship directly into the heart of that dark star so I can finally confront and resolve the unhealed trauma from long ago that is the dark star’s heart.
Without the need to contain and control this massive wound in my psyche, a huge portion of my human potential would be returned to me and my mind would be able to function in a much healthier and saner way.
It might even be able to have something akin to faith, but without the need to believe nonsense. All that is needed for the job is a way to access and generate the emotional inputs needed to stabilize mood and keep it from going below a certain level.
Healthy people have this capacity. Usually, it comes from religion, and the astounding thing is that the capacity persists long after the religion is gone.
It’s like religion is merely the delivery system,.
And I can’t help but notice that all four Bertrand kids were raised without religion and all four of us have truggled with our mental health.
Maybe religion isn’t all bad after all.
Maybe the real truth that public atheism can’t handle is that reality is not enough.
You can’t stick to only what you know to be true (scientifically, logically, rationally, etc) and survive. The real world simply does not and cannot supply all you need.
And this is what the lovers, the dreamers, and to a lesser extent me have been trying to tell people for a long, long time.
All that “the power of imagination” jive they fed us kids in the 70’s was trying to get us to extend our reality into the world of the imagination so that we would not have to rely on only what our reality gives us.
So maybe it’s the smart move to believe in magic, or aliens, or God, or whatever else lets you believe that there is something powerful that is beyond evident reality that you can draw upon when your reality just isn’t cutting it.
Otherwise, there’s nothing stopping your mood from falling through the floor and heading straight to Hell, and boom, you have depression.
So I am clearly going to have to build my own faith. None of the options I know of wll suit me because they all rely on mystical BS that I simply cannot accept.
It is far too late to install traditional faith in my operating system, That door closed forever a long time ago.
But there are still things to believe in, and as many a seeker has said, what you believe in is not important, what’s important is that you believe in SOMETHING.
I am beginning to see the wisdom in that.
And what inspires me is my deep humanism. I don’t believe in Jesus but I believe in His message of love and understanding for one another based on all the things we have in common simply by being human together.
Be human, everyone. It’s okay!
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.