As you all know or maybe not I suffered from Heat Stroke during Summer Solstice. Since that time I’ve had a few adventures, a lot of working and I’ve been working on repairing my vault. Which looked & felt a lot like this....
I can use the symbolism of LoTR for a lot of my internal struggle. The Balrog means a variety of things to me, but at its core is the fact that it is my oldest and darkest demon. It has been with me since the dawn of memory, the source of my shame, my self doubt, my insecurities. It has lead me down into darkness throughout my life. It is also my first abuser, someone who was supposed to protect me, instead they held power over me mentally, emotionally, physically and sexually. The heat stroke came with seizures, and with those seizures my vault cracked open, and the darkness spewed forth. So I told the good parts of me to run and I fell into battle. I fell back through time, to the beginning where memories were whispers of clouds still forming, up until I had the courage to leave at the ripe age of 11. I battled within until I made myself sick, until I felt everything and nothing all at once. Trying to stuff the darkness back behind the vault door. Then the photo came, as it has every year since I first left my family. Perhaps this is why the vault door cracked, so I could no longer be a victim and become a survivor. To attain the moment when I could look at their face and finally say “you have no power here”. Initially I thought I should write it all down, I took one look at it and came to the conclusion that I didn’t want to traumatize or re-traumatize anyone who read it. So I downloaded a recorder and started speaking the words out loud, which leaves me lighter after every session of this self therapy. Finally the words are out into the universe, finally I can begin to heal. I had some amazing revelations, first that my first dog was to help me with my recurring nightmares, and while they never stopped I was blessed to have her be my companion. Second is that I don’t just enjoy being with women because I was conditioned to do so. Thirdly that while my filing system is fantastic, my vault was never meant to last. I had constructed it only to remain shut until I was safe to open it again. The fourth being, I should have never returned to my birth family, they were never designed to love me for me, only what I could do for them.
The biggest revelation for me came while I was listening to the audio version of the five languages of love. I am a ‘time’ oriented person. So down the rabbit hole of my innards again I went. Tapping into the files of the happy happy experiences in my life. Yes my well was empty when first I left, how did I turn into a reasonably well adjusted adult with the trauma of my forming years combined with the sheer fuckery of becoming a youth in care? Aha! I learned how to fill my own well, to make myself the source of my happy happy.
so a funny thing happens when I’m in my memories, wether they be good or bad. The memories become alive again, currently happening and I feel the raw emotions flowing, not just from me, from everyone involved inside that memory. This is why I have a filing system, this is why I cannot talk to others while inside my memory, the raw emotions will project out of me, kinda like what people would consider mpd or if your a zealot, demonic possession. I have to delve into my innards in a safe space and while I am alone. In the presence of others it becomes well an awkward conversation. Eyes changing colour, mannerisms being completely different, tone of voice change. Yep fuck being committed to the looney bin again, not happening. Well anyhow, I refill my well from my happy happy memories, the places in time where I felt loved. Mainly these memories have to do with my grandmother, some were just me curling up with my dog in her house. Some were personal goals achieved that I had set for myself. To be honest some were just old comedy skits that made me laugh, the sheer joy and freedom of laughter in itself is a means of fulfillment and inner peace.
Now why did I feel so empty since the age of 29? I stopped filling my well, I stopped feeling, I flipped on auto pilot and lived a half life after M left this earth. Tho this cannot be sustained for long, my mind kept bucking the auto pilot setting, I moved at 32, just didn’t move far enough. So at 36 I finally flipped auto pilot off. The past four years have been a struggle, a struggle that made me confront and deal with the oldest and deepest of pain. It’s a part of me, I’ve survived the inconceivable and I will continue to survive. Now is the part of my life where I can thrive, fully unlock the potential inside.
Now for something completely different
Much Love - Maggie
