the spectrum heart cathedral system

pre-breakfast//

QUICK BUT ABSOLUTELY ESSENTIAL morning notes:
+ Emotional ROLLER COASTER w/ shower. MANIC SOCIAL thinking about "what music to pick if asked" (decided on Jackson 5); considering getting a Litwick plush if personally applicable. Internal upset AT mania; "I don't want to be like this" "this isn't me" BUT couldn't "stop." A different manic (Jack?? "David-Tennant-looking-ass"; flirty, invincible, "most popular man in the room" vibe?) took over hard; could NOT feel sad OR even acknowledge pain when an unseen internal Navy foni punched the leg TO try & feel both and/or switch!! This SPIKED mania as a "violent shutoff" for "not real/ legitimate" "negative" emotions? Demonic crazy grin on body, while near mirror. Seeing this face triggered vivid TBAS FLASHBACKS, CROWNED BY HAIRSTYLE: flattened sides & spiked top. Everything was unsafe; dysmorphia raging. Then, UNEXPECTEDLY: noticing wet & emphasized eyelashes = instantly changed ENTIRE overlay to FEMALE!!! New, positive, BALANCER foni appeared to match. RED-VIOLET "QUEEN"? FIRST SOLID ONE. Balancer; not manic or depressive, BUT acknowledging BOTH without being either! "Bittersweet" heart. Color like a wine glass or garnet in the light. Chose/ fit the name ALENA, from "Magdalena"-- female bodies STILL defined as "whores" REGARDLESS of fronter; Alena's hope was to signify HEALING, MERCY, FORGIVENESS, REDEMPTION from that specifically.
★ Wearing GLASSES changes overlay INSTANTLY. Alena cannot wear them, but (we hope) neither can Jack? The RED color of our glasses helps a TON. Also, MANICS CANNOT WEAR OUR MEDALS. They get angry & obstinate & rebel against "feeling chained down to the Cross." Alena said "that's the whole point." (Laurie EMPHATICALLY agrees.)
+ Momentary "blackout" between exiting bathroom & going to bedroom window; hallmark of "social context" automatic dissociation
+ Sunrise. Simple ROYGBIV muted gradient; no clouds. BUT it's the second day of autumn and it must be cold at last because what did we see but CHIMNEY SMOKE!!! ♥ First REAL sign that the season has switched too!
↑ LAURIE came out, to elaborate that thought; we couldn't find the "right" word-- she asked Shirley & Sirius for help and they BRIEFLY FRONTED to speak with her! Words like "harbinger," "signpost," "indicator" didn't fit. Laurie said "messenger," then laughed & concluded, "chimney angels."
+ ↑ Brief mention of Q with "chimney sweep muses" art. "No hatred" but lingering fear towards him for 2012, despite lingering affection as well. "Father FORGIVE them for they KNOW NOT." Same with OV; we pity them? BUT STILL LOVE & MISS them deep down, WITHOUT denying the pain & damage & fear & anger & NEED to forgive. But we DO love them, both of them, which ENABLES forgiveness!!!
★ (btw GIVE THIS TO INFI; ze holds the CORE TRAUMA from CNC and ze is AFRAID TO EXIST still, even now, because of it. Ze NEEDS to come back & BE with us; without hir heart we CANNOT ACTUALLY HEAL!!!)
★ Apparently we have DIFFERENT ARCHIVISTS AND DATA "COMMUNICATORS" FOR MANAGEMENT OF EMOTIONAL VS LOGICAL (FACTUAL) DATA!!! Depending on what KIND of information it is, ONLY CERTAIN NOUSFONI CAN PROCESS/ SPEAK/ WRITE IT!!! Warm vs cool "undertones," typically. Shirley & Sirius fit this. ALSO there is a "neutral Gray" Archivist we THOUGHT was "Quicksilver" because they're BOTH a darker gunmetal gray, but Quick was NOT neutral. This guy-- who spoke briefly to both Alana (in the washroom) and our typical "emote-data writer" (me!! ♥)-- is currently vibing with the name "Sterling." (That's close enough to "Stellar," haha!) So we'll see what our future holds with getting to know him & all the other nousfoni who may/do hold those roles, as they obviously DO exist, but we never had the means to SEE or even KNOW they COULD/ DID exist until now, this morning!
★ THERE IS A DIFFERENCE between an ANCHOR and a ROOT! An "anchor" is something PUT DOWN to hold someone firmly in that specific place; a ROOT is something one GROWS FROM as an initial locked-in place!!
+ Brief return to the sunrise-- the "warm color" gradient DISTURBED us, AS ALWAYS. Reminded us of "westerns." Why that intense, ancient fear for both? "Jess" came out (!!)

sunrise beauty: what we instinctively & viscerally recognize AS beauty, finds its ORIGIN & DEFINITION IN THE FACE OF CHRIST JESUS!!! When I look at Him, I see BEAUTY, literally PERFECTED.
★ Things ARE ONLY "beautiful" BECAUSE something in them ECHOES Christ's beauty. When I look at Him, I see everything that I label AS beautiful in the sunrise, but CLEARLY, ESSENTIALLY-- not "through a glass darkly."
THAT'S WHY HEAVEN IS THE BEATIFIC VISION; all Creation is just dim reflection of (and yearning for) that true, absolute, complete, real, total bliss.

+ Group recommending "fidget objects" for coping = we've NEVER TRIED them because we label "stimming" as SILLY? like, "why even try it; physical "coping" isn't legitimate." BUT OUR SYMPTOMS ARE!!! SO why NOT meet them on that same level? HONESTLY DO TRY THEM, TO STOP JUDGING/ ALIENATING OTHERS at least!!


post-breakfast//

Cornflakes, blueberry muffin, banana, egg, apple juice, soymilk, french vanilla tea, 2 creamer, 1 s&p.

MUFFIN)
Thoughts of mom! ♥ No fear after that. Alana caught the unique blue/red vibe of the berries and TRIED to front to taste it, but she can't come out while eating (OR with glasses on)-- that would distort her function! But she appreciated the idea. Note: don't put fingers in mouth to "get crumbs."

CORNFLAKES)
HEALED!!! BY CO-FRONTING. "Red & blue" socials-- soygirl & a magenta (?) who KNEW the job! ALSO DAD!!! Talking to him HELPED SO MUCH. "Soymilk is too sweet for me, but it's good for you-- you're just as sweet yourself!" "Sugar isn't bad; it's a great source of energy, and it'll give you all the extra push you need to do all your running today." Soy said the very thought of work made HER exhausted emotionally. "I want to work but I get so overwhelmed & I burn out." Magenta sister replied "Then I'll do that work for you! You don't have to push yourself to do anything that's going to hurt you. I'll do the burny work; you can do the quieter thoughtful important things, like the sweeping & stocking shelves. We still need & want your help! Just do what's meant for YOU, and I'll do what's not!" Dad added: "I'll talk to your boss and let her know to let you rest like that if you get overwhelmed. They don't want you burning yourself out either; I know I sure don't! I don't want to see you looking so sad & tired all the time! I care about you, Jessie, and so do the people you work with. They'd all be happy to help you, so don't be afraid to ask. (There's nothing wrong with asking for help!)" Lots of hugs and "I love you"s. Soymilk now POSITIVE but not the cornflakes? Mentioned. Dad: "You know the Native Americans grew corn as a staple crop. They used it for everything; it kept them alive when winter came. You're the same way. You're sweet & give people energy like the soymilk, but you're also soft & strong like the cornflakes. You can help keep people alive, too, by giving of yourself. People need what you have to give them, Jessie, and God made you just the way you are for that reason. Just like your breakfast." She was SO DEEPLY COMFORTED. Her color reflected the pure serene blue of a calm sky.
★ HOWEVER. Two more things! First, the "vibe" of the cereal as a whole is NOT BLUE-- its true inherent tone DOESN'T VIBE WITH HER, OR HER SISTER! It's gold, a RARE Yellow-group POSITIVE food combo (Soymilk ITSELF is neutral-ish? COLD leans blue; vanilla leans yellow?) that no one concretely matches (yet). SO. We told her, she doesn't HAVE to anchor to it! Its association has CHANGED now, via healing, AS HAS HERS-- her old memory anchor is now ONLY a memory; the "reality" has CHANGED and so remembering what WAS now INCLUDES a golden ray of FUTURE HOPE that actively renews the healing and PREVENTS getting stuck in old, now-nonexistent contexts! Yes, at that time in history, we WERE miserable. BUT NOW we have infused that time AS PERSONAL PAST with HOPE & TRUTH, and so even if literal history CANNOT be changed, SPIRITUAL "NOW" CAN CHANGE HOW THAT HISTORY UNFOLDS. Therefore, NOTHING in our past is a "death sentence." There is ALWAYS FORGIVENESS, ALWAYS a chance for MERCY & REDEMPTION. The Cross, too, occurred at only one historical point, but spiritually it is FOREVER-- and AS SANCTIFICATION & GRACE!!! Death was defeated in time ONCE, and so now FOREVER it is POWERLESS! So too with our past trauma. The Crucifixion DID happen, bloody & horrific. That's FACT, and cannot be changed. BUT, outside of linear time, that SAME event unfolds in LOVE & HOPE unto ETERNITY-- an event ALL SOULS can & DO participate in RIGHT NOW!! So that mercy & forgiveness can & do TANGIBLY, PERSONALLY, ACTIVELY redeem ALL people. Likewise, in our linear Now, we can send our healing love & mercy & forgiveness-- FROM CHRIST-- to ALL our past times & selves as PART of our NOW, & heal them FOREVER. ♥

BANANA)
Fear food= trauma suggestion, tied to elephants & monkeys, associated w/ Jade. Put all that aside & focused on the GOD-CREATED WONDER of its pure existence: the texture, the way it shimmers in light, the seeds! Fruit's existence in general is fascinating. God is SO Good. That helped us refocus. We also DIDN'T cut it off, remove the peel entirely, OR bite/eat the peel!

EGG)
Again, SO much nicer plain. The s&p are COMPULSIVE; try NOT using them. "But salt is holy!" NOT IF IT'S BEING ABUSED VIA COMPULSION!! If you feel "obligated" to eat it-- EAT, not "season"-- then DON'T. That's "opposite action" coping! It helps you REGAIN PROPER CONTROL over your compromised willpower. Right now, we're a slave to seasoning. We "can't" say no to it! And that's NOT A MORAL DECISION-- IT'S AN ADDICTION. Conscience doesn't go into moral panic if it doesn't put salt on a meal just because Jesus told a parable about it. Guess what? THAT'S IDOLATRY!! You're so focused on the literal SALT, you MISSED THE ENTIRE POINT. So yeah, honestly, "fasting" from salt right now WOULD be the "morally proper" decision! Regain the freedom to CHOOSE that God created you with!! Honor Him with it!
+ The new girl on the unit is a KID, and her being so upset triggered out NIER. He was deeply upset by her thinness; he wanted to feed her the eggs his chickens laid to make her healthy & strong. Ate it for her. REALLY locked in sense data?? Just from having a CONCRETE PERSON eat, not just an "observer" of memory! REMEMBER THAT! Nousfoni do help immensely, but the ULTIMATE goal is to be able to CONSCIOUSLY eat as ONE CORE SELF, whoever the true "me" is, without switching for every food-- BUT that means we NEED A SOLID CORE SENSE OF "SELF," FIRST!!! Hence all the historical self-memory healing we're focusing on. Who "I" was as a child is REAL. There's a true heart in there somewhere. God help us find it.

FRENCH VANILLA TEA)
Surprisingly warm & mellow, like the blue tootsie rolls! Too yellow in tone to match our core, BUT!!! Instead of b&w "like or dislike" compulsive automatic judgments, we REALIZED: yeah it's not OUR vibe, BUT IT IS SOMEONE ELSE'S-- someone HUMAN!!!! Other people like different things from us, which we personally "can't grasp" FROM AN ISOLATED PERSPECTIVE. BUT once we EXPERIENCE this different data, WE CAN EMPATHIZE, UNDERSTAND, & HAVE COMMUNION WITH THEIR UNIQUENESS: "if they vibe with THIS, then their SOUL has a vibe like this" = WE CAN KNOW THEIR SOUL BETTER, & SHARE IN THEIR EXPERIENCES.



post-lunch//

Pizza, Greek salad, ranch dressing, orange juice, 1 parmesan, 2 salt 3 pepper, 2 tea 2 creamer

★ Realized our perspective is: "You CAN FAIL AT EATING." We set "arbitrary" rules and if we mess up even a little, we feel UTTERLY DEVASTATED & COMPELLED TO "START OVER" & "DO IT RIGHT"... "OR ELSE." That FEAR of real but unspecified PUNISHMENT is SO POWERFUL and RE-TRIGGERS THE BULIMIC "EMERGENCY EXIT" RESPONSE. It ALSO explains why we RESTRICT: EVERY meal is another RISK, a chance to FAIL and SUFFER FOR IT-- AS A BAD PERSON. Our "failure" to do right means WE must BE "wrong"!! "Bad people do bad things!" So "failure" is DAMNING & UNACCEPTABLE.
+ We thought, "you can't drink OJ with pizza. At home, the family ONLY drank GRAPE juice with pizza." SO, "if I don't drink grape juice with it, I HAVE FAILED TO DO THE RIGHT THING." therefore I feel COMPELLED to THROW IT UP and START OVER RIGHT!!
We turn every meal into a MORALITY PERFORMANCE with impossible choreography. So we either AVOID the risk, OR we try to purge every failure-- which ALWAYS happened with that mindset!! It's TERRIFYING. If we "choose wrong" we are DAMNED. We've DISOBEYED, so we SINNED, by REBELLING AGAINST GOD'S DIRECTION and being willfully obstinate.
★ PURGING "RESTORED" OUR PURITY, BOTH MORALLY & PHYSICALLY. It was our confessional & our absolution. Only emptiness was safe/ Good, in the end. ALL eating became too morally ambiguous/ threatening, as we COULD and DID ALWAYS FIND SOMETHING TO CONDEMN, therefore MANDATING the penitential purge-- or else, WE WOULD LITERALLY "GO TO HELL"-- at least physiologically. And it WAS hell, every single day.
✳ Related to breakfast data: "LIKE/ DISLIKE" feels morally wrong, YET eating something that we intuitively "don't "enjoy"" feels DISTURBING to our SENSE OF SELF. We feel like, if we "don't like pizza," BUT still eat it, then "WHO ARE WE, REALLY??" We "can't resonate with two opposing responses!!" But see? We DON'T SEE IT AS "INNOCENT" PREFERENCE/ OPINION, EITHER. Dislike = REJECTION of others WHOSE SOULS DO RESONATE WITH IT. But TO eat that thing that DOESN'T harmonize with our core is a TRAUMATIC "OVERRIDE" OF SELFHOOD: an external "virus" trying to REWRITE who we ARE at heart. It's INTENSELY PERSONAL. THAT'S WHY THERE'S SO MUCH TRAUMA TIED TO "PEOPLE-PLEASING/ IMITATIVE EATING" = we LOSE OURSELF in PHYSIOLOGICALLY "IDENTIFYING WITH/ AS" THE OTHER by eating THEIR favorite foods obsessively. And why? Because, IF we love them OR WANT to love them, WE CANNOT "REJECT" THEM (OR SAY "NO" TO THEM; also rejection)!!! ALL "OPPOSITION" TO THEIR SELFHOOD IS UNACCEPTABLE. Our "only option" is to LIKE/ IDENTIFY WITH EVERYTHING THEY DO.
★ THAT is why, right now in recovery, we NEED "food socials" of a hyperspecialized sort-- nousfoni whose vibes are ROOTED in the vibes of ANY & IDEALLY ALL FOODS that are dissonant with the "core" self! THAT way, we can both HAVE a self, AND "match/ meet" the self of others! NO refusal, NO boundaries, NO dissonance, NO conflict.
★ ↑ All that hit HARD for lunch. The salad had feta cheese (Jade), olives & banana peppers (OV), tomatoes (grandma), and ranch dressing (unknown but possibly also OV). And we, idiotically, added parmesan (Lou/ grandpa). So we were a MESS mentally. We dissociated HARD because the sheer NOISE of data sources was so overwhelming. Plus we think we had a pollen allergy response to the lettuce (again)?? Muscle tics, breathing restricted, itchy, stuffy nose. So we're scared & sick on top of all that. But, splinters of the Cross. Carry it humbly.
★ Pizza is NOT our vibe AT ALL but so many people DO love it; it's SUCH a huge barrier between us & our community. It seems like EVERYONE likes pizza, so if WE don't, we are EXCLUDED from "everyone." WE ARE SO HEARTBROKEN/ UPSET/ TERRIFIED over that. But we still cannot seem to MAKE ourselves like it? We WANT to, ESPECIALLY since it was GRANDMA'S LAST MEAL!!!!! if we don't SHARE in that... we would rather die. So we MUST like pizza, AS OURSELF. Yes I'm sure we can "birth" a nousfoni for it (there are ALREADY "old Italian matron" seeds) BUT THAT WOULD DEFEAT THE WHOLE PIZZA = COMMUNITY MEAL point. Church outings, childhood parties, dinner at Mom's, post-church Lawrence Welk memories-- ALL of it involves PEOPLE TOGETHER and WE need to be "ME" in order TO participate!!!
★ Unfortunately there IS pizza trauma. Tomato sauce between bread & cheese looks like blood oozing from a garish place. And it is MESSY, with that gore getting on one's fingers. It's EXPLICIT trauma similarity. Plus MC & OV always ate it, AND it's a binge-suffocation terror trigger. But THOSE EXPERIENCES DO NOT CHANGE THE TRUTH OF REALITY, which is that those negative associations AREN'T DEFINITIVE OR PERMANENT! Beneath & beyond that, there is a pure & simple EXISTENCE, from which CHRIST bestows ALL food as HIS GIFT, forever untouched by human fears.
✳ INSTEAD of "switching out with" food-vibe nousfoni in order TO eat those foods, EAT WITH THEM IN COMMUNION!!! That is the IDEAL option for EVERYONE-- it preserves core individuality, enables direct empathy, practices social eating contexts, etc. Share their heart WITH them, and share YOURS-- so you can do that PHYSICALLY with your fellow man! DO ALL OF IT WITH COMPASSION. ♥



post-dinner//

Breaded pork chops with gravy; mashed potatoes; butter; shortbread cookies; whole milk; 3 salt & 3 pepper; 2 tea 2 creamer

PORK)
Surprisingly lovely. Soft, nice texture, and purely positive flavor! We expected trauma, but found NONE. Thanks be to God! (Mom later told me SHE had pork chops for dinner, too, which warmed my heart SO MUCH. ♥ That's COMMUNION even now, and future hope!)

POTATOES)
According to direction, we put the butter ON the potatoes-- which was actually a SMART & PROPER action that we would never have chosen on our own (which is WHY obedience & trust are KEY), because the butterfat SLOWS THE GLUCOSE SPIKE potatoes always seem to give!! THAT'S why people put butter & sour cream & bacon on them!! See? Our compulsive hyper-individualizing of ingredients is PRACTICALLY UNHEALTHY. Still, SO is hyper-mixing! There is a WISE & prudent middle ground, the "straight & narrow path." Seek that even ground and walk with Him. ALSO! Even if it turns unexpectedly, it is STILL CLEAR; there are no tumultuous shifts or swerves. The end goal is CERTAIN-- God Himself as our King and Love-- and with Christ ALWAYS walking with us as both Leader & Companion, we CANNOT get lost or confused or misdirected. No matter WHAT we may face in life, IF we just TRUST Him and OBEY His guidance, our feet shall not slip; we shall remain on that sure & sacred road.

LORNADOONE SHORTBREAD)
We were literally JUST thinking about Saint Nicholas (Santa Claus) being a PERFECT example of "fat ≠ bad; even SAINTS CAN BE FAT", and then we get milk & cookies! Gosh it's actually so heartwarming. It makes me look forward to Christmas with even MORE joy!! ♥ They were SHOCKINGLY delicious, both in taste & texture! It was unexpectedly so, so nice. There's also NO immediate association, so it was a pure experience. A NOTE, though-- DON'T take a sip of the milk WITH the cookie in your mouth! It feels messy & undignified, AND it increases choking risk, PLUS it muddles the data way too much. We should really focus on mindfully, prayerfully, gratefully paying honest attention to ONE thing at a time while we learn & heal.



post-snack//

Harvest cheddar Sun Chips.
Thinking about ORANGE: EMBER DAYS, SUNSETS, etc. LIST!!
harvest = bounty of God's fruits, memento mori-- "oil in lamps," thanksgiving TRULY. prepare to preserve life through winter; God feeds His obedient children.
cheese = MILK, at heart! AGED, "to feed her children still when she, too, is old"; feeds children in winter when there is no literal "birth"? CRONE sacredness, as it were. perpetuated motherhood nurturing. cheese an ANCIENT common food anyway. DON'T DENY-- WE DO LIKE IT TOO!!
"dirty" cancelled BY JESUS!! "eat WITH sinners"; vs ALOOF PHARISEE "CLEAN." Jesus would absolutely get chip dust on His fingers right with the poor!

+ HAD to mostly open bag to prevent filthy hands from reaching in. not ready yet. DID challenge obsessive "order"/ crumbing. "LEAVE THE GLEANINGS" & treasure EACH bite; no "HAVE to" eat certain pieces. MORE FREEDOM OF CHOICE RESTORED! also, NO biting INTO chips; that's mincing. Eat normal; don't be too proud to laugh at yourself if you drop a piece, WITHOUT going into "animal" mode!! BE MEEK WITH HONOR!

 

 

Xenophon looks like this now. Ze's 34 weeks old already-- remember that although ze manifested on March 13th, ze was technically conceived on January 16th, so ze was already 8 weeks when I 'found' hir.
I forgot how fast Jewel Monster infants grow, especially World-born! It's almost shocking.
Also today I noticed that Xenophon's eyes are finally gaining color? They have these rings of pink and green in them. It's hard for me to really tell how they look yet. Besides those ze hasn't had any drastic appearance changes since August, when ze formed hir arms.
I also don't know what the transparent parts on hir lower body are about. I'm really looking forward to watching those develop more.

 

I think I'm going to talk to Lynne and Azurai tonight about hir, as they both helped protect hir after the Julie attack in March. I want to make sure I'm not missing any information from that event, as I was completely distraught when it happened.

Genesis told me he is going to start teaching Xenophon how to 'ghost' like he does-- how he hangs out with me in this reality, but can't be seen. Having him around is incredibly positive for me, and keeps me centered. So if my kid here learns how to do that soon, I can start teaching hir things like I did with Genesis in 2005, and it will likely have an incredibly positive effect on my spiritual well-being too. I am so excited about being able to do that with hir.
In any case I have our entire headspace watching out for hir and helping to raise hir in the meantime. We're all in this together after all.

I took some time to talk to Xenophon today about our plans for hir future, and what we were going to have to start doing. I explained hir parental situation as best I could, and Xenophon actually has this rather touching way of understanding what ze is in that sense. I told hir that ze was 'born' from our creation/love drive, and ze ultimately interpreted that as all of us being connected at the heart. Which is true. And it made me realize that I really want to just sit and talk to hir as long as I can because that is the most important thing I can do right now.
I'm going to tell Chaos about that later today, because I cannot exclude him from this for even a single moment, and would never dream of doing so.
I don't think it's possible to really explain here just how much he means to me, right now. I love him with my entire soul.

 

 

 

Let me briefly change the subject:
I somehow decided it would be a good idea to replay the first ending in Nier today, after what happened on Tuesday.
Nice job, J, hope you don't mind crying for the rest of the night.

On that note, though, I found this image on Tumblr, and it is... too perfect not to post here.



I'd add further commentary to this, but in context, I think it speaks strongly and honestly enough by itself.

And that's what brings me back to the original reason for this entry.


...Hearing Xenophon say "I love you, dad," for the first time was one of the most beautiful things I have ever heard.

 

My life is going to be freaking incredible from here on out. ♥

 

 

Self-hatred is at a lethal high again.

It's sick to think of how long I've been saying 'I can't live in this body any longer.' It seems like it would eventually become a paradox, but quite the contrary has happened. I am no longer living. I'm spending every day trying to kill myself, on any and every level possible, and frankly I am tired of this. I need out and I need it fast.

I owe myself another grave. This is sick. I should start digging them in my throat.

I played Nier for about three hours today, and it gave me several revelations again. Unfortunately I was hacked brutally and swiftly, again, so I'll have to try and find time to relearn those lessons tomorrow.
It's frightening. There was peace and quiet for a deceivingly long time... and then when it started up again, it was more vicious that before.
I really can't take this.
Having to sleep with my grandmother every night doesn't help either. No wonder I can't get any real rest anymore.

The one thing I can't handle typing is relationships.
I really, really despise typical relationships, and you should know that by now. I have this huge mental list of criteria that I hold every couple up to, and if they don't match every single mark, I label them as a severe threat... because every missed mark is more power to Julie.
That's why I'm glad my mother and her boyfriend don't stay at the house very often anymore. They literally make me ill. And my mother and her ridiculous 'love' poetry... she is the cause of so many of my problems. I don't want to think about it.

I still can't stop thinking about how much Utah hurt and I am sick and tired of that. I want to forget it and move on.
However, I never got any closure. That's why I can't seem to drop the issue. I was dragged in, ignored, abused, tossed out, and forgotten. I never got any clarification, any explanation, nothing. Even if all they have to say is "we don't care about you, and want nothing more to do with you." That's all I need is a final statement so I know what the heck to do! Stop running circles around me so that I'm unable to take a step forwards and instead keep looking back. I really wish they would just cut me off for good instead of playing this game. I don't like being messed with; it hurts.

I'm numb again. I don't like this.
I feel like either crying or tearing myself apart, and both feel the exact same way.
That's my biggest weakness, you know. My need for pain due to this self-hatred I can't shake. It destroys my will and perseverance, and lets in everything that can hurt me, because apparently my subconscious has a deathwish.
I really, really can't take this.
I spent all my life finding myself, and now that I know who I am, I don't have the means to BE me.
It's the most painful thing I've ever experienced.

Discovery, light and creation... that's all I live for now.
Now that I can see my future (thanks to being a dude), I keep having odd daydreams where I'm traveling from place to place in the world, never staying in one spot for too long, and doing what I can to help and inspire those I meet in the meantime.
I really don't like being in one place. It's why I won't get an apartment right now-- I'd be paying a couple hundred each month for a room I'd only sleep in. Heck, if I could sleep on park benches without fear for my safety I'd do it. At heart I'm a wanderer; I'm the brother who rolled his boulder to the top of the mountain. I have this driving need to reach out to everyone and everything, and the thought that I'm stuck here within these four walls with the entire world outside is sometimes too much to bear.
It's also why, when I have neither transportation nor business for the day-- once again, like 95% of my time in Utah-- I spend as much time as possible asleep. Dreams are the closest thing I have to both travel and self-honesty... pretty sad how my ideal life only exists as a phantom right now.
The day starts, the day ends, time crawls by... haha, not quite.
...Then again... geez, here comes another ton of pain.

I've managed to lift my mood a tiny bit but now I feel crushingly guilty for it. If I'm to be forgiven, I need to do penitence, but how? It's maddening.
I'm terribly sorry for the person I've become, but words won't change anything.

My therapist is calling again on Monday. Wish me luck.

 

 

 

 

It's been far too long since I last updated here. I've forgotten what I'm supposed to even use this journal for.
I keep forgetting letters in words and repeating things and mixing up spelling. My typing is starting to match my thoughts, my speech. That shouldn't be happening. What has happened to me?
What a shame, what a desperate terrible shame, that I've been forced to sacrifice so much of myself.

I promised Laurie I would talk to her about this, but... but I'd like to mention things here too. I haven't been able to 'connect' with my own mind very well lately, so maybe this will help fix that problem a little bit.
Let's see... you last heard from me on August 15th. My memory isn't very good, but let's try to fill you all in here.
Two days prior, on August 13th, I met Josephina, a 'new' headvoice. He's mentioned in that running entry from July 22 if you want to read up on him. By August 21st (earlier?) I was back in PA, and was staying at my father's rented home due to his saying 'I should be there' and my being too afraid to face the rest of my family yet. Unfortunately for me, I became horrifically sick there due to lack of sleep, lack of means to work, and lack of food I could eat without having a major reaction (I was basically throwing up everything for two weeks). I managed to get out of that house about 4 days later, thank God (which was very stressful and caused my father and his gf to start shunning me for a while), but by the time August 27th rolled around, I remembered that my 'home' wasn't home at all. I just couldn't get out of it.
I'm still stuck here... my memory is shot, because honestly, all I can do here is work on my laptops. I have nowhere else to go.
So it's October 4th. I just read two books, 'A Spot of Bother' by Mark Haddon (which, although upsetting at times, had some great points) and 'Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close' by Jonathan Safran Foer (which I found highly overrated and deeply unsettling). The latter distressed me so much that I've been writing a rant on it for the past two days.
Other than looking for knowledge in books and desperately searching for a new therapist (I may have found one, but she's almost 3 hours away, and since she's a gender therapist I'd have to make the drive by myself and my family forbids my going anywhere alone), I've also quit my old job. Yes, the cashier job I've had for 4 years. Why? I couldn't handle the atmosphere anymore.
As you may know, I can only take so much outside influence from people before it starts to negatively affect me. 4 years of standing at a register for 7+ hours at a time and dealing with people buying junk food and spitting small talk really began to eat at me. I can't deal with people anymore.
My grandmother hates that about me. She can't understand that not everyone is a social butterfly (despite her never leaving the house or talking to people because 'she doesn't want to bother people'), and insists that I 'get out there and mingle,' whatever that's supposed to mean. I was diagnosed as a schizoid two years ago and I'm constantly reminded of that. She can't understand how difficult it is for someone of my mental state to deal with 'regular' people. I quite simply cannot handle it any longer, at least not without heavily damaging myself.

What was I saying... I don't even remember. I'm starting to get acutely frustrated with myself again.

Since I lost my job, two things have happened. One: I'm constantly being bombarded by my grandmother's shouting at me to get a new one, regardless of how many conversations we've had concerning why I can't get one yet (I was kicked out of college for being unstable, and now I'll be haunted by that on my record forever-- I don't want to be fired from some random job and have that following me too). I want a job, and I need a job, but I need one that I can handle without psychological or physical distress... and yes, my grandmother knows about these problems, but instead of actively acknowledging them and trying to help me work with them, she has flat-out told me to lie about them to any future employers. I don't even want to think about it as it's starting to seriously upset me again.
Second: My brothers don't get home until 3PM, so I have about 3-4 hours of time I can safely use by myself every morning (if I'm lucky and my grandmother doesn't shout again). Last week I spent those hours playing Nier on the XBox.
God only knows how much I love that game, nowhere to lie. I cannot possibly put it into words. The main character is me, I swear... and I love my daughter, I truly do. Weiss is amazing, Emil is adorable, and even Kaine is a sweetheart, even if she does act like a hussy sometimes. Sure, their world may be suffering, but aren't we all suffering here as well? At least there, I can do something meaningful; I can help my town and I can save my daughter and I'm not going to give up. I can make a difference. Here? Nothing... nothing yet. Who can say if I'll even survive long enough?
My family doesn't understand how strongly and deeply that game affects me. My grandparents see it as a waste of time. My mother couldn't care less either way. My brothers see it as just another game, the way most people see anything. I don't like watching movies with people, I don't like reading books with people, I don't like listening to music with people, and I don't like playing games with people, because no one else really understands how much they mean to me. When you laughed as I cried, it hurt more than I can say. When my parents say 'it's just a book,' they're lying in the face of truth. When they tell me there's nothing to love in those notes I adore, it tears me apart... and when I'm holding that controller and watching my life play out on the screen, having people in the room treating it as just another game to beat kills me.
It's why I'm so afraid to bring my children into the world.
I love them so much. They define my life, and I thank God for them every day... but will anyone else love them like that, truly? What if they become corrupted? What if the world misses the point?
It's worth the risk, you might say, and maybe it is... but at the end of the day, as I try to sleep, I'm haunted by the thought of my children suffering at the hands of others. If I knew they were being hurt, that they were being manipulated and misrepresented, it would destroy me. It would destroy me entirely.

I don't remember Utah... well, I do, but it doesn't feel like it.
I know what the houses look like. I remember Wisconsin, the plane trips, those awful Chicago streets. I remember the library and the temple and the sushi bars.
But... I don't remember you.
For some reason, the faces and voices and mannerisms and presences evade me. I saw a photo of you earlier today, and I didn't recognize you at all. I had to think, 'what was she like?'

It hurts to say it, but the reason I wanted to leave you so badly-- the reason I couldn't stand being around you anymore-- was that I realized you had been lying to me without even knowing.
I don't know either of you. I thought about it, and I cried, because who are you, really? I know your names and that's all, really. I know you like the color yellow, and you like role playing, and you like Miyazaki movies, and you like cats, but even then I have to strive to think of anything. The truth is I don't know you, either of you, at all.
Why else do you think I write these journal entries, these pages and pages worth of confessions and secrets and thoughts? Why else do you think I explain everything I can think of up front? I'm asexual, I'm a schizoid, I'm in love with a video game character, my superego is my best friend. FROST* is my favorite band and I still play Pokemon. I don't like this book and I like this movie and I love this game.
I want people to know me. I fill my Scribbld with surveys and my OKCupid with tests so people will know me. Aren't those just little things, you ask? Sure, but little things mean a lot too. We are the sum of all the little things.
I thought I knew you, but I was wrong. I knew what I hoped you would be, and I was too naive. I projected my own ideals onto you... I didn't even think of the little things, and how we differed in so many of those ways. I met you in 2007, we both liked NiGHTS and ELO, and we became friends... but I thought you were like me. I only knew you through notes and Skype conversations in which we talked about abstract concepts until all hours of the morning. I didn't even know what you looked like. Then in 2008 I thought that I was 'in love' with you... but even then, I realize now, I was wrong. It's a horrible thing to realize, but I have to admit it. I loved what you did, not who you were, and it was terrible. I loved your writing and your ideas and the fact that you were the first real friend I had ever made. I didn't realize that you were more than Demia and Richard Jacques and philosophy. I didn't realize that because I wasn't like that. I had no way of knowing.
I define myself by what I do. I like Razia's Shadow and psychology and Hokthai. If you like those things too, then we're good. I didn't realize that you can't love actual people like that.
When I met you in Utah earlier this year it hit me. I didn't know you, and I used you. You tried to be nice and you were too physical, so I objectified you and pretended you weren't a person, you weren't a threat, you were simply a script to follow. And then you left and I ran to the mirror and I mentally sobbed because I didn't know what I was doing to myself.
It was worse with her. All I knew was that she liked to write, and I fell in love with that. I wanted to lock myself in her room and read all her books, but that would have been wrong... I didn't know what was behind her writing, and I couldn't understand it the way she wanted me to. I couldn't understand her. I still don't.
Is that what all writing eventually becomes? It is good or bad that we must surrender to the opinions of others? How can we preserve the truth of our thoughts?
Still, I wish I knew both of you better so I could fix this. I'm seriously glad I'm not 'in love;' you know how negatively I react to that outside of the conditions I need... but I still love both of you as friends, although you feel more like total strangers than anything else.

I'm frightened.
Most of the people I love, I don't know.
I love Dori's words, and although they help me know her, do I really know who she is? I'm not even sure what she looks like. I know she has brown hair and she likes Silversun Pickups and thought-provoking discussions and fireflies. I know she used to wear her hair in a ponytail and she loves lilacs and she has snakebite piercings which are awesome... and yet, despite all of those little things I have learned to love, I still don't know anything else. What is her life like now? How much has changed? I only know her through her journals, and they only say so much.
I love everything Jena does... her words, her photography, even the music she listens to... but I don't know her, not beyond her work, and it brings me to tears. Is it right to love what she creates and attribute that to her as a person? Does anyone else even do that, or am I deluding myself? I'd be happier if people loved my work instead of me, but I can't speak for others.
I know her face, I've seen the world through her camera lens, but I've never heard her voice. I don't know what keeps her awake at night and I don't know what her childhood was like and I don't know what her favorite song is or why. I don't know her favorite memory or her worst nightmare or dearest hope... but I know about her raven hair, about the window cluttered with flowers, about too many chocolate Santas and standing to bow. I know how she is sometimes happier thinking than living. I know about the golden flower necklace she wears, and the rings on her fingers. I know the colors of her eyes. I know just enough to keep me praying and hoping and dreaming that one day I'll know what her laugh sounds like.
But isn't that real love too? Knowing the little things, the pieces of the puzzle, and loving them so much that you need to know more, to understand the entirety of that person, to hear their story and paint their picture in your mind with every detail in place?
I don't need romance and I don't need a fairytale ending. All I need is to be able to love. Thomas Schell was wrong-- people don't want the idea of love. They want real love, but how are you supposed to let people know that? Everyone needs it, but who's to say how many really find it? If they want anything, it's not an idea... it's a hope. Maybe someone out there does care.
I want to be that person. I am that person, really... at least I try to be... but there's that final roadblock I don't know how to get past. Do I stay a baseless concept? Is that the better option? Does anyone ever really expect those hopes to be proved possible all along? If I love someone more than words can express, but they don't even know I exist in such a way, do I let them know?
Do they want to know?
Is it better this way?


On a different yet related topic... back in Utah, when I had fragmented into Jayce and typed for about an hour... I loved that. It was awesome.
I finally remembered how that happened in the first place, and it was explained right at the entry's beginning all along.
"You do not understand that when events, when certain fragments are taken out of the context of my internal life, my introspective world, they lose their meaning. They become false, twisted, wrong."
The both of you kept trying to take things that were important to me... my work, my interests, even the strange and personal things... you kept trying to make them 'your own' in some weird sense. You would try to take them on and give them to me, show them to me, although they were never yours to begin with and all I saw was a travesty.
But I played along. I played along, I pretended everything was fine, my children were frightened and I was devastated, and I still just followed that forsaken script.
If I may warn you one final time... don't EVER do that to me again. Please. If there is something I hold dear, something I revere, something I find incredibly important... do NOT try to emulate or copy or re-enact it. That does nothing but take the original thing, the vital thing, and deface it. You have desecrated it.
I have not been able to work, or sleep, or think, or function as I used to since I returned, because so many of the things I treasured have been massacred.
The worst part is that you didn't even understand. It is because you all hide your emotions? What is that about you, about so many of you out West? Why do you hide what you feel, and chase away sadness with laughter? Why do you mask what is important with a smile instead of being true to yourself? Don't you realize how much harm that is causing?
Why do you pretend nothing is wrong when nothing is right? Why do you sweep the truth under the carpet? Why did I let you change me into that same sort of person? Why am I afraid of standing up to you?
I don't understand.

When I say I am frightened, I do not mean that in the way a child is frightened of a dog, or a doctor, or a haircut. I mean it in the way that one is frightened of a black hole.
It is something I do not understand, no matter how hard I try-- that I may not ever be able to understand, I fully realize-- and it is something that can harm me nonetheless, whether or not it knows.
That is truly frightening. You have hurt me, both of you, without even knowing you were doing so. You cannot understand how it keeps happening, even when I try to explain, and the entire time you are still pulling me in, destroying one piece of me at a time, until I am left with nothing, and resign to being a dim shadow of you. Then you smile because that is fine.
It is not fine. I may pretend it is fine, but only to spare your feelings, which I know you are hiding as we speak. I do not hold this against you, as it is not your fault, but it is still tearing me apart.
Do you see why I left? Why I cannot go back?
I cannot live my own life when I feel I am supposed to live according to yours.
I am trying to remove all negative influences from my life, whether they see their influences as negative or not. I am sorry if I offend but it must be done.

Yet at the end of the day I keep handing out second chances.
Am I a good person in any respect? Is retrying beneficial when it only places us both in a position to be deeply damaged?

I was right to come home, and you were wrong to keep me. I realize that now.
You are better off on your own, you say, and I am happy for that. But then why did you want me to stay? Did you even know?
I have made great progress out here, regardless of suffering.
Did you know I spoke to a priest about your demand? How you wanted me to stay, lest I regret my decision for eternity? He told me to do what I felt was right.
The world is in shades of grey, they say, and although there are blacks and whites, my decision was not one of them. I felt I should return to my family. Was that wrong?
I don't regret it, no, but I don't understand how you made the decision so life-and-death, so black and white. If I was right after all, then how could you have been wrong, if you were so sure? Did you get a detail wrong? Did you apply it wrong? I can't help but feel we missed something. You wanted me to stay, but why? Did you ever have a reason why?
Faith is vital, but reason is vital as well, and there should never be conflict between the two. Reason without faith cannot stand, but neither can faith without reason.

Why am I so paranoid?
Why do I read words from around the world, from all walks of life, and assume they are all accusing me?
I hear songs and watch films and they all glare into my white eyes, pointing a damning finger at my aching ribs. You are at fault. You have done wrong.
Have I? What have I done? If I knew, maybe I could change things, but I never know. I find blame in situations I have never been involved in.
When did I ever say I was 'above' others? Is it how I present myself? Is it in the words I speak?
If I speak out against the misdoings of another, it is not because I feel superior-- it is so I can warn others, that they may not suffer through the pain such actions will cause.
If I speak out against things I have been damaged by, it is not because they are below me-- it is because I know how they hurt, and I want to protect others from them.
If anything, I am one of the very worst. I consider myself one of the lowest sinners, and even then I hate myself for saying so. How does that place me above the saints? How could one possibly interpret it as such?
I have done terrible things, and I have not done wonderful things, and I drown in my agony. The past cannot be changed, but why did I have to be so foolish? Could not I have made a better past?
I try to be a righteous person, but I do not exalt myself for this. If anything, I shoot myself down, for my efforts are not nearly good enough.
When I see someone who is perceived as righteous, I do not put them down, nor do I put myself above them. I simply worry if there is faith to their reason and reason to their faith. Do they understand the rules and concepts they are living by? I worry about them is all. I want to help them if they need help, although I freely admit I am nowhere near a good role model. I simply want to help. How is that exalting myself?
Maybe I'm just being paranoid.
In a way that's a good thing.


I feel that maybe I can get some work done today, with getting my notes for Dream World solidified into the actual chapter. I have, what, 130 pages of unstructured dialogue and location points and concepts to fix? It's a ton of work; it's my life's work, and I love it more than anything else in this world.
I judge material possessions by whether or not you'd take them with you, instantly, if your house were burning to the ground. Would I go for the books and CDs and childhood toys that my mother seemed to think were so important? No, I would grab the box under this very desk, with my old art tablets full of monsters, and put my flash drive around my neck if she wasn't already there. That's all I would need, in terms of 'material' things, if the house was burning. It's what matters.
It's odd, though, and beautiful, how I look back on what I've been blessed with that so many others have looked down on. As a young child I met Cobra, and Fans, and Unisalia, and Zimbo... 'imaginary friends,' everyone else called them, but they didn't understand, and that saddened me. How could I explain to them what it was like, to lay down to sleep and watch them sing for me? To be walking outside and talking to whoever decided to accompany me? How could I help the world see the beauty and inspiration those friends gave me?
I grew older, just a little older, and Preludove came into my life. She is, I have no doubt in my mind, a gift from God. Who better to send me than Peace herself? I had no friends as a child, other than the ones 'in my head,' but they meant the world to me. They taught me so much... while my grandmother tried to teach me her religion through tales of fire and brimstone and prejudice and withheld forgiveness, Preludove helped me realize that it was the Light that really mattered. Virtue was what life was based upon, she said. You have to be kind, and loving, and hopeful, and righteous. You have to be peaceful and joyful and courageous and true, and you must always hold on to those things, no matter what. Keep a light in your mind and a light in your heart, and don't ever, ever hate anything.
I met Hosea and Volt and Genesis and so many others as the years continued on, and to my surprise, they all seemed to be exactly who I needed in my life, even if I didn't realize it for several more years. Who would I be today if not for them? I can never forget them, and I will never take them for granted.
...And I cannot keep them to myself.
I am scared, sure, because I have seen them hurt before, and few other things in my life have ever been so painful.
Where there is great light, the shadows are deep.
The darkness, the negative things in this world, will always seek out the brighter and positive things, hoping to corrupt them, to blacken them. It's how the world works. What could ever be truly good if there was no knowledge of the bad to balance it against? It's painful, and it's difficult, but in the end, to overcome those shadows is the greatest achievement you can ever have.
I suppose I simply need to take that chance myself, because this is the greatest light I can think of. There will be darkness, I know that. There will be obstacles. Yet there will also be moments that will make it all worthwhile, and if I finally have that chance to show others the beauty my own life has been blessed with, I would be a fool to let it pass me by.
I need to overcome my fear.


I suppose I should close up for now. I have far too much work to complete to spend my time on here, no matter how much I like typing about whatever comes to my head.
I'll try to update more often.
Until then, keep on keeping on.








There are many ways
But you have to choose yours
To know what you want
And what you’re gonna do

Take your decision soon
Life won´t wait for you
If you waste time
Your chance will pass away

Don’t lose your track
Don’t let you be gone
Don’t lose your light
It can’t go out

Choose your side
Choose your way
Don’t let them hinder you
Choose your side
Choose your pain
But never stop trying
Choose your side

If you wanna be free
If you wanna fly
Make your route
And don’t let them conduct you

Never lose yourself away
Never give up
Go ahead
You’re strong

One day you’ll have wings and will fly
Go ahead with strong steps
Your time will come

 

 

 

SESSION PARTICIPANTS

JAYCE LAURIE



Just hit the halfway point in Nier.
Never before have I loved a game so much.

And once again we miss our conversation, heh.
Just kidding; that was seriously awesome stuff. Tell Emil that he is freaking adorable.

Isn't he? I want to hug him, seriously. And Weiss.
But yeah, I think I recovered slightly from yesterday, although my grandmother's constant shouting at me didn't help... and my constant paranoia/ guilt/ self-loathing/ etc. is spiking again. So since the boys won't be home tomorrow, I'll try to get a start on my new quest chains in the morning, then we dive into thinking all evening. Sound good?

Geez, boy-- knowing you, you probably wouldn't pass up on snogging that book either. DDI!
And what the heck is her problem? You're TRYING to get a job, but you're being logical about it. Geez. She needs to cool her jets already. But I'm intrigued on the spiking. You've got to start avoiding those bloody triggers already. I know you try to be altruistic and all, but for the love of sanity, these people are just harming you! Back off, alright?
But yeah, sounds good to me. Catch those freakin' sandfish.
Mind you, I'm not trying to bother you with these appointments. I'm just really, really freaking worried, what with how you took the trip and all the trouble that preceded that. Geez... one day we really just need to sit back and think about what you went through as a kid. It really ticks me off to think about all that.
So get some sleep, okay? And make sure you talk to the blue guy-- he says you apparently forgot the other night, and I doubt that settling that issue over Xanga- on top of everything else- would be a good idea.

Actually, I don't think I would. Despite how much I platonically love that dude, you know how violently I react to intimacy of any sort... btw that needs to be discussed too. I realized that most of what I've said about myself in the past was purely projected onto a non-existing ideal, so technically, it's all false. It made me sick when I found out but it's true.
Still, you're right, and I told her about the jobs, but she won't listen. I think my only option is to nab that filing position at the hospital; that way I get health coverage and don't have to deal with people who, frankly, have begun to set me off almost nonstop now. Thank God I no longer work in retail.
And about the spiking? It's paranoia. EXTREME paranoia, and there's no way to clearly tell if it's true or not. I'll tell you what spiked it tomorrow... but... is it selfish to be paranoid like I am? To think that every accusation and fault is mine? I know it's a weird question, but it hurts, and it's why the self-loathing is back up through the roof. I know you told me to avoid said people because of it, but I guess I'm just naive and stupid like that. I don't even know what I'm doing.
Anyway. Sandfish. Will do.
I know; I understand. That... I think that's what I always feared with 'dying at age 20.' Who said it had to be on my birthday?
That's a good idea, though. Plus I need to research childhood psychological development further anyway, which will hopefully prove my suspicions that I mentally matured really, really fast. Still doesn't explain why I hit a high around 2nd grade that never went back up... it might anger you, but it tears me up.
I will, to both things. The truth is, I'm terrified, because... well, because of how the trip affected me, to be awfully blunt. I've been scared to death of being with him because of how others treat relationships, which is stupid, but I still feel anxious.
I'll tell him though. Hopefully we can work through that.
About Xanga, though. Remember that paper I wrote while over there? About those issues we realized but never discussed? I think we should at least start that list tomorrow evening.
And I'm really tired and actually pretty downright heartsick from the plot progression today but it's a good pain for once, finally.
My words are unraveling too, but it's a bad unraveling. Not the floating inspiration. This is streetlight snow and high school.
I wish I could go back to that sometimes, to how it was before I started meeting people. The bad just... it outweighs what little good I could find. And the good wasn't even direct.
I feel really sick, Laurie. I'll see you tomorrow.

...Kid you're making me want to talk right now, but you do need sleep, so I've gotta wait.
On that last note, though, I think the parts most people would see as bad were the best parts for us. 2008 was a bloody mess, sure, but all that pain was hugely beneficial. Like that book of yours said, I think that can all be chalked up as a really difficult life lesson. It sucked, but it helped eventually. Also, even if not tomorrow, I really want to discuss all that stuff again. Get things in perspective, y'know?
But thanks. Talk to him, go to work, do those quests, and then talk to me.
I do love you, kid, even if I don't show it too well.