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Dr. Bob is Robert Hsiung, MD,
bob@dr-bob.orgShown: posts 1 to 10 of 10. This is the beginning of the thread.
Posted by Joan797 on April 18, 2006, at 16:24:09
Enough to thrust the knife in my back a million times?
Enough to kill my soul and tromp my heart?
How many times can I die?
How many times can you make me feel this way?
A million and one I guess.
Posted by susan47 on April 19, 2006, at 13:37:57
In reply to How much to you hate me?, posted by Joan797 on April 18, 2006, at 16:24:09
How many heartbeats left?
That many times,
if you allow it.
Aaaaaaagggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Eff it.
You're not done yet, you're not pissed off enough, at the whole effing thing, goddamn it!!!
Posted by Joan797 on April 20, 2006, at 6:42:25
In reply to Re: How much to you hate me?, posted by susan47 on April 19, 2006, at 13:37:57
Pissed Off?????????
I'm hurt, hurt so much more than I am pissed off. I hurt every day, and every time I get dragged back down by his words and lies I hurt even more. Hurt so much I cannot function with the daily grind. Hurt so much that I am not worthy of feeling life. What's there to be pissed off about? The stabbings continue. The beatings continue. And as I lay here crumpled on the ground, I beg for more.
Posted by susan47 on April 20, 2006, at 21:11:20
In reply to Re: How much to you hate me? » susan47, posted by Joan797 on April 20, 2006, at 6:42:25
No words are true but the ones you tell yourself .. try listening to that voice inside you .. the one that wants to be happy and whole ... I wish it were louder, and I wish it could feel even a flash of anger ... when the pain gets big enough it will, it must, or we would all die.
Posted by Joan797 on April 20, 2006, at 22:23:36
In reply to Re: How much to you hate me?, posted by susan47 on April 20, 2006, at 21:11:20
Really, that is the answer to how much he hates me. And identifying the problem only steps me closer to that space where there is no anger, but immense pain. That space in which death is an acceptable alternative.
You can't give your soul away and expect to survive without it.
Posted by susan47 on April 21, 2006, at 19:23:57
In reply to Re: How I hate me » susan47, posted by Joan797 on April 20, 2006, at 22:23:36
Been there, done that, given it away more than once ... only when I realized and it WAS just in time, just in time ... but others come closer to the edge ... every human being is an abyss and looking into the abyss makes you realize what a precipice you yourself are standing on ...
Posted by susan47 on April 21, 2006, at 19:29:42
In reply to Re: How I hate me, posted by susan47 on April 21, 2006, at 19:23:57
You've deprived yourself of love long enough ... why are you doing this? Why are YOU doing this, why are you here where there is no love, in this place in your head, where you think you should be, and you must know again, on some level, where you really do not belong. You belong in beauty, and grace, and power here in this lifetime on this earth and you're powerful, YES YOU ARE, but you're completely denying any power you have. And when the pain is big enough, you'll decide .. perhaps. Perhaps not. Millions don't.
Posted by susan47 on April 23, 2006, at 20:16:42
In reply to Re: How I hate me, posted by susan47 on April 21, 2006, at 19:23:57
> "... every human being is an abyss and looking into the abyss makes you realize what a precipice you yourself are standing on .. Klaus Kinski, I think, said something like that in a movie once ... he was a maniac, I'd like to show somebody who thinks he knows everything, some footage of Kinski raving on and on .. and I wonder what he would say ... you see this man Kinski raving like a maniac, like a complete effing fool, he says the most stupid things at the top of his lungs, really believing his own sh*t ... trying to get everyone else to believe it, too ... when you're a child, and you're exposed to that sort of crap, you don't know what to believe ... you're too frightened to understand that other people might help you, might WANT to help you, that maybe if you'd told someone how bad it really was, how bad it was ... maybe somebody would have cared enough to rescue you from the lunatic who was your father.
But nobody ever did. Nobody ever came and took you away, nobody ever rescued you, ever. You had to be there for yourself then, or go crazy... and you did a bit of both. You left the scene of the crime, so to speak, and the crime was always in his immediate vicinity .. anywhere he was, there was a black hole waiting to suck you down .. and
Posted by Joan797 on April 25, 2006, at 21:20:55
In reply to Re: How I hate me, posted by susan47 on April 23, 2006, at 20:16:42
There is a place that I go.
I go there everyday.I tip up that glass and I go to that place.
The place where I think I am worthy of more than I've been served.
The place where I can convince myself I am somebody worthy of love.
The place where I pretend I am beautiful, sucessful, wanted, desired, needed.
That place, I go there when I can, but I can't stay there.
My life is a constant interuption of pleasure.
But then, I do that to myself through allowing others into my place.
Right now. This very moment, I can't find my way there. I can't see the path. My feet hurt from the constant travel towards that which does not exist. My chest hurts from exhersion. My eyes have dulled and blurred and can no longer envision what that place looks like.
I can't get there Susan. I can't get there anymore.
Posted by susan47 on May 20, 2006, at 14:20:56
In reply to Re: How I hate me » susan47, posted by Joan797 on April 25, 2006, at 21:20:55
It becomes more difficult, yes.
Every sacrifice made in the name of myself,
my feelings,
every reality given up
in favour of
the power of
my intention ...
I want to create
Please allow me
a space to call my own
a space wherein I can be
Whole
and Beautiful,
and Appreciated ...
not broken,
like this
not in this public space
not here
where I can be stolen.
Unmerciful,
when your mind will not allow
that you have a right
to your own space
to your own Being ...
a right to make my own choices
something worthy, that I can
give
I want so much.
Too much.
Nothing like it, like this Dream,
is ever possible.
Why?
Because of the glass,
you see ...
it is the tipping of the glass
that gives me the most pleasure,
and the most pain,
the most reward ....
and the most pain
But no.
The pain was experienced
long before
the glass was ever lifted.Just an effort... an effort to Be.
I miss him so much.
Where is that darn ... "glass"?
It empties my mind,
fills my heart ...
and it is all false.The cry in the wilderness
is more than I can bear.
This is the end of the thread.
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Dr. Bob is Robert Hsiung, MD,
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