Darkness And Hope (Explicit)
I have been doing a lot of "inner work" lately and actively trying to change some of the mechanisms I have depended on for decades to keep me as I was -- "safe" and miserable.
There were three moments in my young life when I made choices that I didn't fully understand (do we ever "fully understand" our choices?) that made a home for darkness and despair within me which I sadly nurtured and cared for during decades. I want to share those with you. I just want to say first that I am not blaming myself for what I did. I was in a very difficult situation in which good choices did not even occur to me. I don't even know if I was capable then of acting differently. But I did act and I did choose and I kept doubling-down on those bad decisions throughout my life -- building a Mansion for darkness and despair.
The first moment happened when I was 10 not long after I was raped, although I never thought about that specifically, as far as I can remember. I did my best to erase it. It is possible I told my mother, but If I did it didn't go well. She was, sadly, a very cruel coward. I spent I don't how many nights in my bed praying to God to be taken away -- to simply disappear from the world. Of course that did not happen. It doesn't work that way. Then I begged the aliens to come for me (I liked scifi books) and take me on their ship to leave the Earth and all humans forever. I was not afraid of being alone. I wanted to be where no one could ever really know the flesh and blood me. They would only know my mind. I literally begged both God and the aliens to save me with everything I had, with every ounce of force and strength I had, and I did it over many many nights. I'm not sure how many. When neither God nor the aliens answered and I was left alone, I decided that I would never need anyone ever again -- that that was the only way to keep from being like them -- my family, my monster. I decided that I had one strength they could never overcome -- that I was willing to die and that they were afraid of death. I chose hopelessness and death then. I thought it made me strong and invulnerable. It didn't, but I was desperate. Looking back I really believe that from that day on my life was darkened -- worse than being raped, worse than the constant betrayal of my family. I did it to myself.
The next moment came a few years later. I had just turned 16 and I was celebrating my friend's birthday at his house. My friend's father had become like a second, real father for me. My real father was a narcissistic bully. I ate dinner over at his house all the time and talked with his parents about everything. His dad had hit on me once. I told him No. I thought that was that. The night of the party I felt sick from beer and weed (looking back this was strange) and went up stairs to crash in the spare room -- maybe I was led there? -- I woke up later, still feeling way too high with my dick in his father's mouth. I told him to leave. He did. I'm sure he came back later and had his way with me. I remember waking up just after dawn in that room and looking out into a cold, gray winter morning and feeling as if that darkness was now everywhere. It felt "right" as if that was what life was supposed to be. I left that house while everyone was asleep. I never went back. I never told, not even friend, why. I kept it in me and nurtured it. I accepted it. I gave up. It was confirmation of what I had chosen when I was 10.
The third moment came when I was 18. I wrote about it in the Stories forum under the title Dear Bill. I was in San Francisco with my friend and lover Bill. I was very fucked up inside. For the last couple of months I would resist having sex with him, only oral, until I couldn't take it anymore and then would attack him with lust. After I came, I would just shut down and act like it hadn't happened. It was very intense and very fucked up. In San Francisco I was obsessed with the desire to have him fuck me. No one other than my rapists ever had, but I wasn't thinking about that. I went back and forth in my head until I couldn't take it. I told him I wanted him to fuck me. He was more than happy to do it. I really enjoyed it. The next morning we did it again and I enjoyed it even more although I was sore, maybe because I was sore. When he came in me I felt profoundly happy -- fulfilled. Then I panicked. I spent hours in silence looking down over the city. I let the darkness speak to me. I believed I was a monster, that I had seduced and raped and Bill (ridiculous!), that I was just like the men who raped me. I let these thoughts take me over. It never even occurred to me to tell him what I was feeling, what I'd been through. My world became darker and darker and darker. Finally I told Bill we had to go back to college in LA. I never touched him again. I never told him why. I had let hopelessness take me over.
That decision dominated my life for decades. It sealed what began when I was 10 and I lived with that shadow until I was 59 years old. I almost always chose despair after that -- hiding, loneliness, feeling afraid and despoiled, never feeling at ease. I married a woman who also didn't want to feel, who on a basic level was filled with resentment and fear. When our business failed she brought another kind of darkness into our lives that I did not resist. I capitulated. I became smaller and smaller and smaller. There was no fight in me. My greatest strength was that I could endure more pain than anyone else, even unto death.
These are not things that happened to me. These are things I did to myself and to those who loved me, or tried to love me. Yes, I was raped twice and betrayed countless times. My family was a hellscape and my brothers and older sister hijueputas. But I turned my back on hope, on God, on Love, on the beauty of this world over and over again. I welcomed darkness. It was comfortable. I cared for it and helped it grow in me in so many ways. I chose it and now I have chosen differently.
Never again will I choose that. Yes, I have habits of thought and action that were born out of nurturing despair and hiding. They did not disappear overnight, but they have been getting thinner and thinner everyday -- more light shines through. When I freak out the old habits try to assert themselves, but their power is now gone. I no longer believe it.
I believe in transformation. It is real. I believe in God in my own strange way. I believe in darkness too. It is there waiting to prey on us just like our abusers did. It will not win. Many of you have helped teach me this, especially H. I am very grateful.
There were three moments in my young life when I made choices that I didn't fully understand (do we ever "fully understand" our choices?) that made a home for darkness and despair within me which I sadly nurtured and cared for during decades. I want to share those with you. I just want to say first that I am not blaming myself for what I did. I was in a very difficult situation in which good choices did not even occur to me. I don't even know if I was capable then of acting differently. But I did act and I did choose and I kept doubling-down on those bad decisions throughout my life -- building a Mansion for darkness and despair.
The first moment happened when I was 10 not long after I was raped, although I never thought about that specifically, as far as I can remember. I did my best to erase it. It is possible I told my mother, but If I did it didn't go well. She was, sadly, a very cruel coward. I spent I don't how many nights in my bed praying to God to be taken away -- to simply disappear from the world. Of course that did not happen. It doesn't work that way. Then I begged the aliens to come for me (I liked scifi books) and take me on their ship to leave the Earth and all humans forever. I was not afraid of being alone. I wanted to be where no one could ever really know the flesh and blood me. They would only know my mind. I literally begged both God and the aliens to save me with everything I had, with every ounce of force and strength I had, and I did it over many many nights. I'm not sure how many. When neither God nor the aliens answered and I was left alone, I decided that I would never need anyone ever again -- that that was the only way to keep from being like them -- my family, my monster. I decided that I had one strength they could never overcome -- that I was willing to die and that they were afraid of death. I chose hopelessness and death then. I thought it made me strong and invulnerable. It didn't, but I was desperate. Looking back I really believe that from that day on my life was darkened -- worse than being raped, worse than the constant betrayal of my family. I did it to myself.
The next moment came a few years later. I had just turned 16 and I was celebrating my friend's birthday at his house. My friend's father had become like a second, real father for me. My real father was a narcissistic bully. I ate dinner over at his house all the time and talked with his parents about everything. His dad had hit on me once. I told him No. I thought that was that. The night of the party I felt sick from beer and weed (looking back this was strange) and went up stairs to crash in the spare room -- maybe I was led there? -- I woke up later, still feeling way too high with my dick in his father's mouth. I told him to leave. He did. I'm sure he came back later and had his way with me. I remember waking up just after dawn in that room and looking out into a cold, gray winter morning and feeling as if that darkness was now everywhere. It felt "right" as if that was what life was supposed to be. I left that house while everyone was asleep. I never went back. I never told, not even friend, why. I kept it in me and nurtured it. I accepted it. I gave up. It was confirmation of what I had chosen when I was 10.
The third moment came when I was 18. I wrote about it in the Stories forum under the title Dear Bill. I was in San Francisco with my friend and lover Bill. I was very fucked up inside. For the last couple of months I would resist having sex with him, only oral, until I couldn't take it anymore and then would attack him with lust. After I came, I would just shut down and act like it hadn't happened. It was very intense and very fucked up. In San Francisco I was obsessed with the desire to have him fuck me. No one other than my rapists ever had, but I wasn't thinking about that. I went back and forth in my head until I couldn't take it. I told him I wanted him to fuck me. He was more than happy to do it. I really enjoyed it. The next morning we did it again and I enjoyed it even more although I was sore, maybe because I was sore. When he came in me I felt profoundly happy -- fulfilled. Then I panicked. I spent hours in silence looking down over the city. I let the darkness speak to me. I believed I was a monster, that I had seduced and raped and Bill (ridiculous!), that I was just like the men who raped me. I let these thoughts take me over. It never even occurred to me to tell him what I was feeling, what I'd been through. My world became darker and darker and darker. Finally I told Bill we had to go back to college in LA. I never touched him again. I never told him why. I had let hopelessness take me over.
That decision dominated my life for decades. It sealed what began when I was 10 and I lived with that shadow until I was 59 years old. I almost always chose despair after that -- hiding, loneliness, feeling afraid and despoiled, never feeling at ease. I married a woman who also didn't want to feel, who on a basic level was filled with resentment and fear. When our business failed she brought another kind of darkness into our lives that I did not resist. I capitulated. I became smaller and smaller and smaller. There was no fight in me. My greatest strength was that I could endure more pain than anyone else, even unto death.
These are not things that happened to me. These are things I did to myself and to those who loved me, or tried to love me. Yes, I was raped twice and betrayed countless times. My family was a hellscape and my brothers and older sister hijueputas. But I turned my back on hope, on God, on Love, on the beauty of this world over and over again. I welcomed darkness. It was comfortable. I cared for it and helped it grow in me in so many ways. I chose it and now I have chosen differently.
Never again will I choose that. Yes, I have habits of thought and action that were born out of nurturing despair and hiding. They did not disappear overnight, but they have been getting thinner and thinner everyday -- more light shines through. When I freak out the old habits try to assert themselves, but their power is now gone. I no longer believe it.
I believe in transformation. It is real. I believe in God in my own strange way. I believe in darkness too. It is there waiting to prey on us just like our abusers did. It will not win. Many of you have helped teach me this, especially H. I am very grateful.
