Psycho-Babble Writing Thread 799808

Shown: posts 1 to 18 of 18. This is the beginning of the thread.

 

Complaints, and more

Posted by susan47 on December 9, 2007, at 20:09:48

I have done with the cold and the rain and the sleet and the miserable-ness of winter here, with the miserable of my life, with the attempt at a happiness only others seem to have.
I'll bet you've been married forever, to a wonderful woman who keeps you happy as pie, and you her, and I think that's lovely, just lovely dear man, you dear, dear unknown person, the one who must always remain Unknown, a Mystery, and me, open as a shucked oyster, there for the viewing, the slippery coolness in your throat .. if only you knew how often and how many ways and places we have made love, in my mind ... hah.

 

Haaaahhhhhhhhhhh

Posted by susan47 on December 9, 2007, at 20:10:35

In reply to Complaints, and more, posted by susan47 on December 9, 2007, at 20:09:48

More like a sigh, than a hah, a ha, a-hah a-ha, Aha. Ahhh.

 

Okay.

Posted by susan47 on December 10, 2007, at 18:22:03

In reply to Complaints, and more, posted by susan47 on December 9, 2007, at 20:09:48

Well it's in my hand now, and the coolness of the paper .. well, if you knew graphology, you'd see lots in the writing, there. And I do know, and what is see is precision and thoughtfulness, and I see also a loss of the desire to be an auuthority. I see uncertainty. Hesitation. And then .. commitment. To the end, and I am afraid to open it, because underneath the brown paper, must be cheap stock haha, okay I see typed words and I don't type in that small a font, or something, but also there could easily be a signature there, wyich means definitely that i am now afraid, which is okay too because nothing's ever changed, everything stays the same, and there is the World out there and in here and they cannot match, my dear, they cannot ever match but oh how the pain in my arm is ... so bad. I have to look elsewhere for hope, hope in life and hope in living and hope in being True to myself .. a paradigm shift is required.
I am so weak, and you are so strong. And sure, sure of yourself. Wow. My god, to be more like you, less like me.
Less.
Like me.
Oh, god.

 

I Am So Cold

Posted by susan47 on December 10, 2007, at 18:25:59

In reply to Okay., posted by susan47 on December 10, 2007, at 18:22:03

I am so cold, I am shivering, my hands hurt with the cold, and i rock and i close my eyes and i am so cold, so very very cold, will i ever warm up, i am afraid and i cannot open the envelope, my life is going to end, no it isn't, it is Not going to end, not my life, but this other thing definitely is, it is definitely going to end, because I cannot try and put two separate worlds together anymore without exploding and losing myself in anger and unmanageable feelings of guilt and shame and idiocy and too much Truth, too much truth for me and lies for everyone else, and i don't understand any of it I just don't know what to do, but I will explode if I don't do something, maybe I need to hug my son.

 

Inside,

Posted by susan47 on December 10, 2007, at 18:56:59

In reply to I Am So Cold, posted by susan47 on December 10, 2007, at 18:25:59

Inside there are unopened letters, unopened envelopes sent back to show that there is no point, I need to find someone or something else to communicate with, because there was never any communication with you. It was always a monologue, one I dreamt up and made real out of my need and the need lies unopened before me, in this envelope the story of the need will come alive and am I ready for the discovery? I wish I wish i wish yes, I see it is a letter addressed to me, and it is typed neatly and signed and this is of course my worst dread come alive again two years after the first time, three after the time before that, there are too many first times. And all the important things I had to say in the last letters have never been read, and now my heart really deserts me and without even having to open anything, I Know, and my fear for living is greater now than it ever has been, and the shaking Will Not Stop, and you are a bastard of the Greatest Degree. And I Know that within you there is the Greatest Threat to me, the loss of my desire to live because you have found me a fool.
Well, f*ck you.
F*ck you and No, No wonder you are who you are, congratulations for being that. That.
The remarkable thing is, that I feel like I might almost healing, almost healed, in the throes of being that myself, for me myself.

 

Point Downstream

Posted by susan47 on December 10, 2007, at 19:19:45

In reply to Inside,, posted by susan47 on December 10, 2007, at 18:56:59

Point downstream, my dear, towards healing. You deserve it and you've built up these huge obstacles to your own happiness and peace of mind, and now you can say goodbye to them if you wish, or you can continue to hold onto unhappiness. What purpose does the unhappiness serve you?

 

Re: I Am So Cold » susan47

Posted by Damos on December 10, 2007, at 20:17:23

In reply to I Am So Cold, posted by susan47 on December 10, 2007, at 18:25:59

Dearest Susan,

Don't get a surprise...I'm just draping a blanket around you to keep you warm. A beautiful soft cashmere blanket. Now I'm gonna sit down beside you - facing you...and if it's okay I'm just gonna lean over and hold you - embrace you, deeply, completely. You don't have to do anything - just be. Can you feel the warm starting to reach you. Can you feel the deep caring. Breathe with me Susan. Let all the feeling flow into me, let me hold them for you for a while. We can just sit here and rock for a long as you like. Just be with me for a while.

((((((((((Susan))))))))))

 

Re: I Am So Cold

Posted by susan47 on December 10, 2007, at 23:05:16

In reply to Re: I Am So Cold » susan47, posted by Damos on December 10, 2007, at 20:17:23

Thank you friend, for being there for me and helping me through this, and I still haven't opened anything because I am so deathly afraid of myself, of what I created, of the bad feeling, the Bad Feeling Damos, ofwhaticannot name. Damos, I'm broken and i don't know why i'm even alive, and you're so kind. :(

 

I Am So Cold

Posted by susan47 on December 14, 2007, at 0:39:51

In reply to Re: I Am So Cold, posted by susan47 on December 10, 2007, at 23:05:16

I never wanted to be hated. I just wanted to be hurt. To be hurt was a life mission, something my stupid poor little brain just always felt it needed, so much hurt so much fr*gg*ng hurt all the time, that your brain just can't take it anymore and it starts to buckle and crack under the pressure and the stress. For so many years I couldn't think clearly, think at all, could only just subsist, and held it together somehow, somehow I held it together. But I never ever wanted to be hated, I wish he knew that and I wish he understood that everything I am is just to destroy myself, but not to wish it on anyone else, the destruction of yourself is such a really hopeless sad thing to watch, to be inside.
I wish so many times I had been someone different, that my life could have been different than it has been. But wishing doesn't make anything so.

 

Other things I saw, in the writing, I know I am a

Posted by susan47 on December 14, 2007, at 0:49:05

In reply to I Am So Cold, posted by susan47 on December 14, 2007, at 0:39:51

bad person, I know I am bad, very bad for doing this, but I need to know, my heart is so hurt and I am such a fool but I just need to see what I believe is there. So I studied, and what I saw in the writing were really nice, they were lovely because I can see it, I can see all those lovely things in him that I don't think I appreciated because I can't believe it, from the way he really is when seen and experienced, the cold hatred in him, is nothing like what the writing reveals, which is a sense of responsibility, and the ability to carry things out to the end, and honour, and trust, and things like respect and thoughtfulness, and a bit of self-deprecation, even, and unsureness, but also stubbornness, and a touch, perhaps a titch of anger .. self-righteousness and the need to Teach Me a Lesson.
Oh, dear. I am such a bad person. I wish to be a good person, but I know he cannot see that, he can't possibly see the good person in me, because I have kept him far too busy seeing the bad person, and now he has no desire to ever see any person even remotely Like me ever again, and of course this is what I have wrought, and I pray for the whole thing to go away, but it can't because now it's a part of me forever, the whole fr*gg*ng thing is unliveable and a part of me forever. And I don't know how to change anything, or make anything about it feel right. Nothing, nothing about this feels good or right or even live-able anymore.

 

How

Posted by susan47 on December 14, 2007, at 1:16:25

In reply to Other things I saw, in the writing, I know I am a, posted by susan47 on December 14, 2007, at 0:49:05

So how can I bear the fact that I failed to convince Him that I'm not crazy, and my personality disorder isn't ugly and vicious, it isn't what he thinks it is and I'm not what he thinks I am .. and maybe I dont' have a personality disorder at all, maybe I was just on a mission to create some meaning in my life, and I fought tooth and nail to create that out of the sadness that lives inside me. Maybe the sadness is the disorder, maybe all the unhappiness and fear I carry around, the stuff I see in other people all the time too, but how come they don't have to fall "in LOVE" with a hopeless individual who sees nothing but them as an illness, a disease, a walking diagnosis. Oh man, how it hurts to know i never could convince him that I'm not crazy, that I'm not bad, but he would never ever see that, and I KNOW that seeing him made me crazier and feeling worse and worse about myself especially the most recent times, when he had already told me he was DONE with me, go away you nasty girl. He has that attitude so much. So much. god i hurt, godihurtihurtihurt. And I guess I am insane. I guess so. I just want the love i couldn't get, i wanted that love. i wanted it.

 

Sh*t. How great is that, how gorgeous and

Posted by susan47 on December 14, 2007, at 18:40:42

In reply to How, posted by susan47 on December 14, 2007, at 1:16:25

wonderful is it that he made it so very accessible for me to know that i'm totally free to experience whatever i wish here, and anywhere, as long as it's far away from Him, the holy one, oh doctors i've seen how holy you all think you are, i don't like that about any of you, how wonderful you think you are, how concerned you all feel about others. The wonderful others who you can help.
And what about the other ones, the Unwonderful Others? What about people like me, people with a sh*tty Dx, a really sh*tty dx, yes, some doctor tried to tell me I had this horrible dx, tried to convince me i needed to see her weekly for Years, because I cannot trust and oh, I am so Sick.
I became that, I became the illness you saw in me.
WHY did you see it, why did I see it and live it also, why am i myself, when I'd so much rather be You.

 

And F*ck You.

Posted by susan47 on December 14, 2007, at 18:46:39

In reply to Sh*t. How great is that, how gorgeous and, posted by susan47 on December 14, 2007, at 18:40:42

Forgive me Dr. B, oh holy one, thou dearest Dr. Bob, forgive me for doing this, because I suspect you will suspend me, cut me off, as you have in the past, for being a Vicious Bitch, an Unruly One, a Control Freak, one who has to be Stopped. So okay, a little paranoid yes, but then I am Under the Influence, which makes me a very Bad Person. Okay, enough with that sh*t. So forgive me for hurting myself once again, and using you, and using this forum, to hurt myself with. But here is the fact.
But, f*ck my ex-T for putting up barriers to my health and wellbeing, for having me fall in love with him not understanding what would happen to me, happen to my brain and my soul and my entire wellbeing, because I was on the verge of Collapse when i came for help, and he edged it along, not realizing, not realizing.
So f*ck it, just f*ck the whole Damn Thing.
I am a Screw-up, and that is my life, and so what the hell.
What the f*ck*ng hell.
And thank you and I suppose you will make this goodbye. Or maybe I will be ignored, and that would be nothing new or unusual either.
So forgive my language, and my bad manners, but f*ck the whole damn thing.

 

I Do Believe

Posted by susan47 on February 18, 2008, at 1:08:37

In reply to And F*ck You., posted by susan47 on December 14, 2007, at 18:46:39

I have said everything. I don't believe there is any more I can say that would bring me closer to myself than I am right now.
And the saddest thing of all, is that I only really feel "myself", anymore, when Under the Influence, darling. Dear, dear drug of choice, what you have brought me to is the deepest part of myself.
I do believe, I must live out what I have to, what has to be done is to nurture the dark side only just so much, only just a little, darling, until I am Done.
Until the grey matter is so fried, it would be unrecognizable to anyone, anyone at all.
Least of all, myself.
I fear so much, for what my grey matter has been through, and for what studies now show leads to early dementia, the history of depression, drug use, abuse ... the not wanting to live. The greyest parts of the day, the morning and the late afternoon, when the sound of traffic in the street is enough to drive a stake through my heart.
when the only thing, the One and Only Thing that will get me through the next hour, is .. you guessed it.
And the forgetting goes on.
And ... I have forgotten so much.
I've forgotten what it feels like to love Someone. I remember him, and all I want to do is ask myself what on earth I was thinking, what am I thinking .. how could I be two such different people? I don't understand. Someone has put a knife not only through my head, but down into my heart, cut me in half. Am I only half the person I was? Perhaps I am less than that.
Perhaps I am nothing at all.

 

The party you are trying to reach

Posted by susan47 on April 27, 2008, at 18:12:32

In reply to I Do Believe, posted by susan47 on February 18, 2008, at 1:08:37

is not accepting calls at this time.
Oh. I see. I'll live in my dream-state then, the reality I Wish to create, means remembering that the only reality that really matters is what I create....

 

Creating Realities

Posted by susan47 on April 27, 2008, at 18:21:39

In reply to The party you are trying to reach, posted by susan47 on April 27, 2008, at 18:12:32

If it is true that every thought we have creates a reality on some level, some astral plane, another reality of which I am really only vaguely aware when I have not imbibed, imbued myself with, a certain substance, which shall herein remain nameless ...
if that is true, then I realize I have to create a reality that embodies my mother as not myself.
Her ideas, thoughts and beliefs are not the same as mine.
I cannot take on her values, although I realize what created them, to some extent, some degree, I do understand; empathise with and love her for them, even as I begin to realize also that I have been swallowed up, torn in two over and over and over again, over what her beliefs are and what mine are, and my inability to allow her a glimpse ino anything other than pure, raw pain. If she could only understand and love my reality, if she could only have been less of the perfect teacher than she was.
Thank you for your role as my teacher, mom, mother, Mother Dearest Mommy dearest, I love you and I know you love me, but your belief that all humanity is horrible, is just not true.
It's psychotic, it's a psychotic belief that I just can't live with as myself, and it can't be true.
Because the way of peace just has to happen, it just has to be.
Perhaps this is my religion, then.
Perhaps I will not swallow myself after all.
Perhaps I can believe in the purity and wisdom of my own soul.
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.

 

And

Posted by susan47 on April 27, 2008, at 18:25:49

In reply to Creating Realities, posted by susan47 on April 27, 2008, at 18:21:39

I now discover how wonderful I am.
I now discover how wonderful I am.
I now discover how wonderful I am.

I choose to love and enjoy myself.
I choose to love and enjoy myself.
I choose to love and enjoy myself.

Left brain, right brain.
Left brain, right brain.
Left, right, left, right, left right leftright left right
Turn.
I will not die.
I will not die.
I will not..please don't shoot, please, not me!
Mother!
I love you.
I love you.
I love youiloveyoui luv you.
Love means ... never having to say
I'm sorry.

 

Mommy!

Posted by susan47 on April 27, 2008, at 18:34:31

In reply to And, posted by susan47 on April 27, 2008, at 18:25:49

Mommy mommy mom, I love you. I love you and I love myself, and my daughter, your granddaughter, is going to be tremendous because she already is that. She is consciousness growing, she is Conscious Now. And because of this she carries an enormous pain body .. and I cannot tell you any of this because you have a different reality that won't allow you access to your pain body, and I have never had access either but I have Felt It, Mum.
I have felt that pain body of yourself, absorbed it into my very cells, it exists as a living thing in my own pain body, larger than yours because it encompasses all your pain As Well As my own.
And C's, hers encompasses yours, mine, and her own. And we all carry the pain of our forebears, our ancestor's pain is also there.
But so is their joy.
So is their hope.
So is their forgiveness for all of humanity, for all the unforgiveable things we carry in our souls, all the endless Knowing of the unbearable, to torturous wave of humanity, how we have all suffered so much, for so very, very long a time.
But somewhere too, is wonder. Somewhere, there is love in pureness. Purity. The pure love of a newborn look into mother's eyes, and hers in response. The unity and pureness of a love that should never be broken, never sullied.
The pureness of love that is in all of Life.
I want to be that, always, Always.
Forever I want to bask in the radiant glow of that love, and the afterglow of it as well, and the foreglow, the knowing that I was coming to you to love you. The love of a child for it's mother. Nothing more sacred, more joyous than that is the gift we all have access to.
Please, God, without a drug.
Please. I'm begging you.


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