Wednesday, April 30, 2008

Sexuality II - the structure of abuse

Ok, so what I want do now is continue (Part I, if u care to read, but if u wanna understand its actually recommended, is here: http://gabrielietsanders.blogspot.com/2008/04/what-about-my-sexuality.html )on the sex-system. some moments ago I suddenly realised the big picture of how I function whith regards to sexuality. Remember I had written in a previous post about N.A. - the girl I had had a short 'relation' with. ( for N.A. story: http://gabrielietsanders.blogspot.com/2008/03/inspecting-trash.html ) I also wrote that I had masturbated her - now hear this. The situation had been as follows. I was standing with my back against a wall and she stood with her back against me, me supposedly holding her. This is where I had gotten excited and I had shoved my hand down her pants - I couldn't controll myself. I had not felt the urge to do this before with her, to even touch her vagina. what gave me the sudden uncontrollable rush to do it, was the mere fact that I was holding her and her face was turned away from me: she couldn't actually look at me in the eyes. I didn't see her face.

The whole bussiness about masturbation is that you are persuaded nowone can see you - what you are doing, but most of all: what you are imagining, picturing in the mind. So, this was certainly the case with me. Even within the imagination, it came to a point I couldn't fantasize a girl/woman face towards me- therefore I would picture myself having anal sex with girls/woman (this I had seen as another indication for the assumption that i was gay). Because the deal with anal sex is that you don't look the other person in the eyes, and they don't look you in the eyes. This was thing that apparently would excite me and this alone - and for the moment it still does, as i am not done with it yet. The excitement was generated by the situation of abuse.

This is easily retracable in the changing pattern of my sexual fantasies. My first fantasies entailed me being in some form or another being taken prisoner, and thus being at the mercy of girls/women. There was one in which i imagined being tied onto a chair alone in a room. Then the point of excitement would be a girl openeing the door and walking towards me, and opening her legs to come and sit on me - me not being able to move in any way, not even my arms who were tied on my back. There were sevaral variations on this situation, but they had all the same structure/form. Also remember the fantasies I had which I posted in my question to Dimensions, about the X-metallic structure: my early fantasies all entailed me being abused - victim. Then later on this shifted, I dont see exactly right now with certainty what cased this "change of roles" - but anyhow, I became the abuser in my fantasies. This being exemplified in my preference for imaging having anal sex - and in this the rest of the body - other than her ass and her back - would not even matter to me. Right before that i had a fantasy of me having 'normal sex' with a woman, but here she had some sort of little blanket/tissue over her face. So again: I couldn't stand being seen.

Once I had a discussion with a friend of mine, amny years ago - and she suddenly was surprised that I apparently expected that when having sex she would close her eyes: she gave me a strange look and said "no, I DO look my partner in the eyes!" To her it was a strange perversion to expect the girl to close her eyes. (we were just talking about her and sex and also sex in general) That was the first time I realized there was something "off the hook".

The second time I had a sexual experience with a girl was after a pary: we were both drunk and we were lying next to eachother. I asked her if I could kiss her (not being exactly clear in what type of kiss - I was pretending to ask for a night/good night kind of kiss, sleepwell, etc. But when kissing it was me who suddenly forced my tongue against her lips. This was a girl I didn't find particularly attractive and I had the opinion she was not too bright either. She just happend to lie next to me, so I forced myself unto her. She actually waited a little while before "answering my kiss", probably kind of hoping I would just stop. She then "gave in", and we continued kissing. After a while I then again shoved my hand down her pants and masturbated her. And see: in this situation we were both lying next to eachother, me completely on my back and she the same way next to me. Again I didn't see her eyse, or even her face, when masturbating her.

On a second occasion - one or several years later - there was an other party and she was there too and I took advantage of her again. She was soo drunk she could barely walk straight. I just couldn't controll myself again - as I was very drunk as well, and I wrapped an arm around her, which became me grabbing her breast. This night it was even worse: here it was quite clear she didn't want this anymore, but I forced my tongue on her mouth anyway. There was even the possibility of people watching us, but I just didn't care.

So either the girl I had sexual experience with could not (was not allowed to) see me or either she had to be drunk. In being drunk she was not fully aware of what i was doing, so this comes down to the same as not seeing.

I could write more of this examples - I had no other sexual experiences though, besides masturbating allmost every day. And often even more then once a day. So, in all of this I see there is nothing but abuse. It's like in my mind sex and abuse were one and the same. When masturbating too often I would start to feel a deadness inside me, right after orgasm. This same deadness I'd feel when kissing a girl for too long, or when I was in realtionship with N.A. This feeling was teling me: please, stop. But as it goes with addictions, I couldn't find a way to stop.

With self-forgiveness I have been able to not masturbate in several moths now - thank God. (thank ME !) The thing is everyone who masturbates a lot knows that it is actually not great at all and that it kills the being inside, but no one finds a way to stop.

addition: (not addiction!) The thing with the eyes is simply fear of being CONFRONTED with what I am actually really doing. This is fear of facing myself. cool.

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

gabs, are u scared of other men?

Yesterday I was sitting next to leila who was on chat with Paul and suddenly she announced she invited paul over for the hollidays. I immediately felt completely uncomfortable - and I realized it had to do with th idea of another man being in the house, together with us - with me. So just now I was watching Paul vid on his salvia experience - not that it got somthing to do with anything, but hey, i just feel like posting the link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gpoomKN_kRo - and then it occured to me that this was actually the problem: I'm scared of other men. I'm like "huh?" Its interesting, when I walk on the streets and people pass me by, it is easy to feel when "I go into the mind" and in what type of reaction specificly I go as well. So, when a man or a guy walks by, I tend to look him straight in the face. Fok this is hilarious, I'm laughing my ass of ! Now, this looking in the face is pure"defence" - style: "don't you try anything on me you fokker, I can take you on - no problem!" I need to give the impression I'm a tough bastard. Fok, this look I do, it's actually allmost provocation. Damn, this is seriously messe up. hahahahahaah !

I think i'm gonna observe myself in this... more to come.

the hopeless quest for comfort

With previous posts I came to undesrtand something. To put it simple, I have been on a quest for comforting - looking for comfort everywhere around me. Last days I have written extensively about this - self-forgiveness - handwritten. what I basically came to understand is that I had separated myself - me -from comfort. Since Kortenberg, this is what I have been searching for vigorously: a source of comfort. In this way I have been accumulating my anger and sadness with my life -never having to really look at it. Therefore last days -in realizing myself as comfort as me - much sorrow and heavy sadness has come to the fore, demanding to be dealth with. The separation was so vast, so all-pervasive, it didn't occur to me anymore what I was actually doing all the time. For example, when the girl N.A. placed her hand in my neck while kissing me - this is what I had enjoyed about it: it gave me comfort. this was true with virtually every bit of affection that was shown to me. It comforted me. For example when Katrijn suddenly held my hand in the walk. There is time from which on I would even experience comfort when certain people would pronounce my name, when they need me for something, nomatter what for. I looked for comfort in smoking, in drinking alcohol, in getting wasted, in eating foods, in drinking chocolat milk, in chocolat, in listening to music, in watching films and placing a warm blanket over me, in taking a warm bath, in taking a shower, in placing my hands under this machines that blow hot air to dry your hands, in experiencing the sun shining on me as I walk the streets, In lying in my warm bed, in going to sleep, in singing melancholical songs to myself, in blowing weed, in sitting very close to a girl body -feeling her bodywarmth, in masturbating, in orgasm, in receiving a kiss on my cheek from a woman, in reading novels and stories, in hope of a better furure, I would even take comfort in the idea that one day I will be dead - "I will not exist anymore" - eternal sleep. I took comfort in the idea that I can allways kill myself whenever I want, in comming home after a day at school, I took comfort in sitting on a bus, in eating ice-cream, in wearing gloves, in wearing a warm sharp, in wearing warm clothes, in sitting next to a radiator, in reading philosophy, in philosophical knowledge, in poetry... I took comfort in meditation, in relaxation, in being touched in the face by a girl/woman, in the doctor examining my chest - because she touched my naked skin, in making and devellopping stories in my head, in imagining myself another world.

I realize me as comfort.

I am comfort as me.

I recognize and aknowledge comfort as myself as me as all as equall as one as me.

Sunday, April 13, 2008

Katrijn, after being drunk

The experience I had of myself in the years after Kortenberg is so horrific, that I have been neglecting to write about it. So, let's continue the story with Katrijn.

After our little escape we became closest friends. It seemed we only had eachother in the world. I relied on her completely. this started when we had another department-activity in the outside. I don't remember what it was, but it involved us being without supervision, walking alone - the whole bunch of us. Me and Katrijn were walking besides eachother. Because she was certain we didn't feel sexually attracted to eachother - she then took my hand. The sensation I had was me.. how to say this. It just felt great. I felt loved - I felt all vulnerable inside. from that point on we develloped a style of intimacy - which would make everyone suspect we were in love with each other. We became unseparable.

One day she felt like us going for a walk - we were now both on the "to be trusted" list again, so we could leave hospital and come back before a couple of hours. I had allmost never drank alcohol in my life - just sometimes when in boyscouts to play tough, but without even enjoying it. Her plan was to get me drunk that day. It just seemed like fun to her. Well, initially we wanted to be drunk the both of us, but when it came to it, she let me drink allmost the entire pissang bottle - I never would drink this stuff again. I wasn't familliar with strong alcohol - I had actually never been drunk in my life, I had no clue about what I was doing - drinking allmost the entire bottle in less than 20 minutes. She gave me most of it on purpose: she was really eager to see me drunk, she said. The way she said it, it sounded like it actually would be fun. By the time we were back in the hospital - I was all wobbling, stumbling around. Back in department, I satrted making a hell of a noise. Screaming and yelling at people randomly. I stayed a while in my room like this - Katrijn was then still with me. It was exciting to her, from the perspective of having fun. She enyoied taking care of me, me being unable to do this the state I was in. At one point I started to cry - I was asking her to not feel so bad all the time, so miserable. This made her sad and shed some tears as well. At one point I forced her to tell what had happened to her when she was a child - what made her so miserable. Then she talked about her being sexually abused more than once. After a while the two nurses came in -one of them a guy -and Katrijn slipped out of the room. She kind of beat it. Then I start yelling at nurses and I called her a stupid bitch to her face, spitting heavily on the floor, right there in my room. Normally I was this gentel person they were used to. So, I really freaked them out. I felt so hatefull all of a sudden. I was put in isolation - carried under my shoulders, as I could barely walk - until I was sober again. Hmm, now i think of it. this was my main expression while being drunk: just spitting around, hatefully.

After this incident there was a change of behaviour with katrijn. she started experiencing hate towards me - in the face of which i felt rather helpless. I became ffraid of her, because I didn't understand why she was so angry with me for no apparent reason. Well, affraid - in the sense that I would allways be very very carefull with her, scared to not upset her. It becaome like moodswings. In the day she was hatefull and in the evening she would look me up again, that's when she would be "normal with me again" - very fucking strange. anyways thsi got worse and worse - until I could take no more. Life in kortenberg suddenly wasn't all that peace and joy anymore. It became unbearable to live near K. - and note, this hate and anger she would only experience with me. With the others of our group she'd be all sweet - So, allthough I was aware of the irrationality of her emotions, I blamed myself constantly. i had put everything that was vulnerable of myself inside her and now she blocked me out. She was like a mad watchdog, saying: get the FUCK OUTA HERE !! get out of my face !!!

From the moment she would see me, she'd get all irritated. Particularly when I would seek eyecontact - this fucked her up completely. And I would seek eyecontact everytime I saw her in a room - when I'd meet her so to speak. In all this I realise, I had become completely dependent on her too. So, when she rejected me, I would feel lost, not knowing what to do. There was something desperate about me seeking her eyecontact all the time - I was constantly checking how she was now, because it all didn't make any sense to me. Actually me seeking eyecontact was an act of total desperation. what was I looking for? Some form or sign that indicated she still liked me. I guess I was also trying to make her feel sorry for me - especially that. (Actually this would become one of my "strategies" in the years to follow: when I felt bad, I'd try to make people feel sorry for me. In this, I would be able to take advantage of people having a certain perception of me related to me having been in psychiatry - that I was depressed apparently. Apparently this would provide me with a specail kind of attention. - special treatment - I was aware of me doing this, but at the same time it seemed to have become "who I was". It took me allmost four years to break with this. That was when in public school again, Celine told me to go see a shrink or else she wouldn't speak to me again.) This was really fucked up -because in behaving like this, I would comply with me feeling sad and then USE this sadness to attrackt special care and attention towards me. Therefore, as long as I was sad, people would be nice to me. Interesting how with Katrijn this gave the exact opposite result.

Her anger was so extensive K. wouldn't be able to conceal it any longer. One day at the table she said, half raising her voice: "what are you looking at me like that !!!!!!!!!!!!!" Hmm. What bothered me - what I really hated- was there was other people in the group. A. and D. - a girl and a guy. At some point there was only four or five of us. A and D just seemed to take advantage of this situation - Katrijn not speaking with me anymore and hooking up with them.

Fuck - I dont find the correct fucking words and chronological order. Ok, the bottom line of what happened is: first it had only been me and Katrijn - against the rest. Now suddenly she dropped me in favour of other people she seemed to enjoy just for the sake of getting at me even harder. Suddenly the "group-configuration changed". There was A, D and K, forming a joyfull threesome, and then there was me, alone - excluded. The fucked up thing was, because she ofthen would come back to me normally - trying to make me understand how she felt and why she couldn't help it - and then she'd accept me again, let me back in and we'd be all close etc. Because of this, I could not make any peace with this "reconfiguration". From my mind's experience it was even as if A and D were enjoying me being dropped out - they seemed to enjoy me being treated like this by katrijn: because this meant she would be friends with them again. Or maybe they just didn't care - very possible too, actually. I'll take a look at this situation, because I had allmost forgotten about it.

In being friends with Katrijn, it had also to do with the both of us feeling better than the rest. We perceived ourselves to be smarter, more adult. I thought all the other people were more or less stupid - in the whole department. So, in regularly dropping me, I would stand al alone - while she would seem to have no problem in enjoying herself with the few other people of our particular group. I had been arrogant with regards to A. specificly - when being with K. - so, when K. decided to stick with the others again, A. wouldn't bother making me feel accapted in the group. My arrogance had been based on the certainty me and K. formd an inseparable team. What I did then was to pretend I could enjoy A and D aswell - to find myself a way back to K. While in actual fact these people made me feel sick. Hmm... apparantly I thought they were arrogant ! The thing was I couldn't stand Katrijn choosing their company over mine.

When reading back my words I notice that with regards to this episode in my life I'm still kind of approaching it from the startingpoint of self-pity and blame towards others. so, I gonna give myself some sf on this.

Friday, April 11, 2008

what about my sexuality?

I asked the following question to the dimensions. I share this, because this may help other people as well:

"ok, I just read some post from C., about Denial, and then also about wich male-female sections she develloped and wich stayed dormant. I have been wondering myself how this functions with me, especially relating to my sexuality - which is now more than ever, confusing me completely. In terms of male-female, I just feel somewhat lost in this. Also why did I never "fall in love" with anyone? There is one time I felt something that might come close to it - it was with a guy, just a few seconds, but it didn't convince me - well, actually I completely supressed it immediately in case It WOULD be me falling in love with this guy - and then the feeling was gone again. I also read the recently written document about masturbation - the one dimensions wrote, and this being a problem I created for me aswwell - masturbation, allthough is getting better, and so far I just put the pieces together the best i could.

Ok, how i see things now is like this: I believe that in adolescense I was gay, but then this got a weird twist. This got to do with masturbation. The first times I used "imagination" in masturbating, - still in primary school -was me imagining myself how my body was being turned into an adult woman body with breasts and everything - in going through a machine, like in a sophisticated factory. Then I had phantasies about being in a situation of prisoner: being tied to gigantic machine that was X-shaped and then in front of me, facing me a woman tied to similar machine. We were both completely naked and would not even be able to move the slightest bit. This was like two crucifictions, but then on X instead of +. These two X-es would then move slowly towards eachother, until our body fronts would be pressed against one another. It did nu crush me though, it was just the machine forcing our bodies to touch eachother - what would excite me most was the moment right before the touching of the bodies - me being the male. It was not even about sex - intercourse, just about being pressed againts a body. Also the enviroment where this scene would take place was always the same: an enourmous tube, like in science fiction movies, like star wars, like a vertical tunnel, but very wide, wider than several houses. It was all metallic. like the star of death in star wars.

to make this story somewhat shorter, for the moment, the bottom line is I began to masturbate with pictures extensively afterwards - I don't remember when this started, maybe already before I was 12. This could be false though, and maybe it started years later. anyways, in masturbating I would allways experience sex with girls/woman - never with boys/men. After discovering I could be gay - because I suddenly experienced real physical attraction, this never happened before - I didn't stop this pattern: I continued masturbating with pictures of girls/woman. Every once and a while I would try - only after years though - to imagine sex with boys/guys, but it didn't go as smooth as in with girls, and I also felt weird about doing this. I kind of felt trapped in this, it had become a creature on its own. In general I couldn't feel physically attracted to men anymore as wel - I think this got to do with the masturbation-pattern. So, did I suppress the male-attraction system through masturbation? Any other feedback on this would be cool, thx."

This is the answer I received:

Gabriel, your experience with the guy wasn’t sexually related with regards to sexual attraction of a desire to form a relationship – what you experienced was you ‘opening up’ you towards this guy, experiencing you in that moment. It wasn’t towards him and had nothing to do with him – you were merely experiencing ‘vulnerability’. Though, not many human beings actually understand what it is that they experience towards beings, within themselves – and because you didn’t understand what you were experience within you in the presence of a guy – you feared this experience within you, and the only way the mind could interpret the experience is relating it to ‘sexual attraction’. So, no – you haven’t suppressed any ‘sexual relationship desires’ as attraction towards men within and as you – you’ve only suppressed yourself, your self expression, your vulnerability of you as you – it’s got nothing to do with ‘sexual attraction’ towards males/females from a ‘desired relationship’ perspective, no – but ‘who you are’ in self expression as you – you being ‘open’ / ‘vulnerable’ within this experiencing YOU – again, it’s got nothing to do with other human beings, nothing to do with sexuality – just you experiencing you. The fantasies – interesting how you wrote is: (quoting you) ‘phantasies’ = yes, fantasies are the phantoms of the mind – lol. What you’ve done within masturbation is suppressed yourself, ‘connected’ and ‘tied’ your self expression of and as self – to sex and sexuality. See, the sex system, at a young age already – intertwines itself with the beings individual self expression – the openness and vulnerability of and as self, then beings ‘think’ that what they experience within themselves towards others is ‘sexual attraction’ or ‘desired relationship experience’ or ‘physical attraction’ – but, what they were actually experiencing was themselves, their individual self expression. But because at a very young age the sex system have already intertwined itself with the being’s individual self expression – self experience is directly connected to sex and sexuality = which fuck the being completely. So, what you’ve done within masturbation is suppress you completely, intertwining your individual self expression more and more extensively within the sex system, until there’re no more of you ‘left’ because you’ve completely consumed you with the sex system. Therefore you’ll not experience anything towards males or females – because the sex system has taken that place within you, you’ve developed a relationship with the sex system within you through masturbation – which is sufficient in ‘fulfilling you’ – you don’t need/require a relationship – the sex system is doing that for you. So, beings that have masturbated for a while – or often, suppress themselves, their self expression – intertwine themselves with and as the sex system – then don’t need/require a relationship in particular – masturbating is much more ‘preferred’. And understand this clearly: Self expression is not related to relationship, is not related to sex, is not related to desire, want or need for relationship or sex, is not related to attraction and is not related to physical attraction – all that I have mentioned here with regards to relationship, attraction, sex etc. – exist because the sex system intertwined with your individual self expression. Therefore, experiencing attraction, desire for sex, relationship, masturbation = all originate from the sex-system – and is not YOU. Therefore, it is to within this process, release you from the sex system – for you to ‘re-discover’ your individual self expression not related to relationship, sex or attraction at all. So, self expression within this world has become that of sex – the sex system. So, Gabriel – not experiencing attraction is cool – attraction is mind. Though, you have to disconnect you from the sex-system through which you have defined your self expression because of masturbation which suppressed you completely. The more you masturbate = the more you suppress you. The pictures you masturbate with – desires suppressed by your parents transferred into you, transferred from your unconscious mind into your conscious mind of human beings’ within this worlds’ suppressed desires – which you have defined you according to – so, these suppressed desires has become you. Have a look at the pictures you masturbate with, with which you feed the sex-system within and as you – what they represent, what ‘feeling’ do you experience off of them that initiates desire. For example – what you explained above: The desire to be dominated – to be ‘articulately controlled’ – then apply self forgiveness to release such desires within and as you – because it’s but the irrationality of the sex system-design within and as you. First focus on you – releasing you from the sex system, not to divert your attention to relationship at this stage.

- I feel kinda overloaded to continue with this atm. I'm working with other stuff - that need sorting out urgently. So, I'll just say although the answer given by the Dimensions left me speachless initially, it makes complete and total sense. In the reading of this post - I actually remembered my self-experience in the precence of the guy I spoke of. And also I realize it had nothing to do with the guy - it was not butterflies in my stomach. This - butterflies - I have never experienced in my life. Hmmm... yes, this has given me A LOT to reconsider. At first I was: shit, now I have told everyone I am gay, while I am actually not ! The "what will people think". The end result is the same however - it all don't make no difference: self-forgiveness to get rid of this shit, that's all that count. With regards to masturbation, it is very fortunate it has now been pointed out "how bad it is" - because i was neglecting this very much so. This don't come as a complete surprise however - because where have I been all these years? That's right... with myself.

Wednesday, April 9, 2008

being funny - fear of being ignored

That's basically it. What the title says... The need and urge to be funny and cause reactions of joy and laughter in others = fear of being ignored. Fear of not being seen, because I don't see myself - reject myself. What is the self I refuse to see, which I reject? Me as all as equal as one, equal with joy as me.

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to need and want to be seen and be ejoyed as funny - because I apparently cannot enjoy myself.

I forgive myself that I have allowed and accepted myself to want to be enjoyed and enjoyable, so as to find a way to enjoy myself.

I forgive myself that i have allowed and accepted myself to separate myself from Joy - in wanting others to enjoy me so that I can enjoy myself.

my experience with drawing II

I realised just now, another pattern was involved in the drawing and subsequently with the writing. Fot me it had allways been about skill, about levels of difficulty. In the drawing I would always want to go a step further, want to make it even more amazing. For example through drwaing little tiny pattern-motives inside some figure on my page. In this I develloped a lot of patience. It was all about the details, about perfection. There was a period I started to occupy myself with Origami as well, this is folding sheets of paper into all different kinds of animal and other figures. In this it would also be about the skill. Look at what I am able to do ! Yes - nobody else can do this ! This - interestingly enough, I started doing in St-Lukas, art school. i had found myself a new skill to devellop and in this become unbeatable (I started in first or second grade and continued a couple of years.). I would search the internet for the most complex diagrams - sometimes I would spend three hours in folding myself a dragon or a dinosaur or even an insect. I did this very patiently - but I was not HERE, not in the moment having fun, but already being in the future when the thing would be completed and I could show it to someone. It's so obvious, actually, now I think back at it. For example, most of the time I would just fold this stuf right in school -during breaktime or in classes where the teacher wasn't bothered by this. so everybody would be able to see what I had accomplished. WOW, I just remembered, I also bought myself a book with magic tricks - illusion-tricks with cards mostly. Oh my God, I had allmost forgotten that period. hahahaha, this was right after and also a bit together with the paperfolding. Funny enough, the book was from the same author who had written the first origami book I bought. Maybe he had same mind-set as me, haha! But anyway, in the card-tricks: same pattern, learn all the tricks, devellop skill, to become amazing. Again I was very "succesfull." Meaning: I was able to keep myself busy again for a while. Now I see. The thing is people became tired of the things I did, so to speak, so every time I had to come up with something new. I constantly needed to find myself new ways to remain in the spotlight - to not back away into "averageness".

Only with the writing did I find myself an occupation with which to keep people constantly fascinated/amazed. Because in writing a story - the "audience" get to enjoy themselves in participation through reading themselves, it was different as with the other things I had done. Pleople seem to find there is real magic in stories - so did I. In reading stories - fiction - one present an illusion that is almost total. It is a reality-shift. When people read a story their minds are literally gone for a while - they are away. So, with writing it was even more: "wow, how are you able to do this?" In a way it seem exaggerated how I put it, but basically that's what people's amazement consisted of - because they could just not imagine themselves writing a story this - apparently - skillfully, because they simply couldn't write. What I found with my writing and the enjoyment I had in this, is I knew I had finaly found myself a road on which no one would be able to follow me - that's what it was about - to shake all and every competition "off my back'".

But the question remains, why did I start this quest to begin with?

Tuesday, April 8, 2008

my experience with drawing - being favorite

I just realised, through participating on forum, that there exist an urge inside me to be someones favorite, to be liked best or better than the rest. Again this don't fit with my perceived self-image... I have always been looking for someone who would see only me, who would see me above the rest. In this way I needed my friends, who were mostly girls - supposedly to be best friends with. This started with Katrijn, then with L., then with H. and even with my sisters - leila mostly. So where does this originate? With my mother perhaps? As soon as the person I have chosen to like me best - suddenly appears to not like me best, I fall in depression and lostness. There seem no reason for me to be around then anymore. This also tie in with my irritation over Leila always sitting on my mothers lap. I would see this as leila being the new favorite of my mother. Is this the reason why I would make drawings? To obsessively devellop my drawingskills? So that in her being pleased with my drawings, she would pick me over my sisters again? I would copy and copy the same picture until the "match" would be perfect to my eye. The drawing is definately linked to wanting to be favorite. As I defined myself as being the best drawer/tekenaar in my class - I remember how threatened I felt when in saturdays academy I would be confronted with children who could also draw "superbly", the same situation in artschool/public school. in primary school once I was making a drawing and a girl of another class came to look at it and said: "Way is better." this is the same Way, incidentally, of the vampire-game story.

In saturdays academy - I develloped a "strange" pattern. I would enjoy myself the first hour or so and then I'd put my pencil down and just sit around the rest of the hours. I actually didn't like it there... I didn't enjoy myself there. The other children apparently took pleasure in drawing - they could keep themselves busy for hours. me, after a while I'd be copletely bored. I felt bad inside - the only thing I liked is when the teacher(s) gave me attention. But they were more often busy with the other children, who were prepared to keep on drawing. For me - once a drawing was finished - I ought to receive my congratulations that that would be the end of it. But when the teacher ask me: so, what are you going to do next? I was wtf? Is my drawing "not good enough"? Apparently the teacher didn't care at how beautifull or magnificent it was - I just had to make more, do more. For me there was no point in this. This was no way of rewarding me! Because I was being put on the same level as the children who were "not as good as me". So suddenly the fact I wa such a magnificent drawer, didn't make any difference! hats why I would just sit around feeling disappointed, after a while. There was a period in my life - as a child - where I was convinced I was simply the best drawer in the world. This was in primary school - where in terms of preciseness and "realness", indeed nobody could "beat me" in the whole school. my "position" was undisputed. Therefore - from my perspective - going to a public artschool was the worst that could ever have happened to me. Because in being introduced in the 'artworld' and artculture, I started to feel rather small and unnoticable. From the moment I saw/found somebody who would simply be better than me - I would feel anxiety and panic in my stomach. From the moment I had seen a "better drawing from someone else" I would stop liking my own drawings - it became worthless rubbish.

When at my new school, the teachers would no longer see me or acknowledge me as being so special - from second grade onwards, I would start feeling rubbish myself. The drawing talent had been my "card", the one with which I would always be able to remain in my position of "outstandingness". This was also the only thing I believed I was good at. In losing this - I realised I was no different from the others - average was not good enough for me, not good enough at all. I had been living in a dreamworld, and this to me was untolerable. I had allways expected my life to go smooth and all by itself - because everywhere I went, I was the best drawer. Off course I would become an artist - I said this so many times as a child. In losing my card, I seem to have lost my future - which was pure bliss and outstandingness. If I was not that good at drawing as I had imagined - did I then even HAVE a future? What kind of a life would that be? It was as if there was nothing for me in the world anymore. This was the only thing which I believed made me worth something - and this worth I believed could not be taken away from me - and now it revealed itself to be rubbish. Rubbish, because there were so many people who were much more talented than me... All my hopes, were like a train going on one single track, and now it got completely jammed. Obviously this "cathastrophe" which I could not find any solution to, played a major role in me playing the suicide-act, in 3rd grade, and all the rest that followed subsequently.

With writing I simply continued the same pattern. I suddenly discovered - after receiving a compliment for a story we had to write for school (my "style" resembled very much that of herman Brusselmans - who was the only novelist I read, and he was my favorite writer, as I didn't know of anything else.) - that I maybe should write now. Because I had had much fun in this story. I actually believed this was "something different". When about 17 I would start writing novels all the time (20 pages or so, never finishing anything). In the writing I received a lot of "positive feedback", people encouraging me to go on with this. ("you have talent !") Unbenownst to myself I had ended up on the exact same track - there where I had left of. The illusion I am the best. In the enviroment I was in - even in artschool - I could take advantage of this newly discovered talent - there I had a brand new card I could thrive on, the Joker I had unexpectedly pulled out of my sleeve. Guess what, I was the "best writer" I knew. I wonder what I would have done if no such card had surfaced? Because myself I was very surprised by this. Like, wow cool, where does this come from? So I wrote and wrote and wrote my ass of - short stories and wanna be novels. Why? To be the undisputed absolute favorite again. Yep. What amazes me is how long this worked out. I started reading a lot of different novels, to learn how to write more beautifully, perfectly. To me it was always about perfection. In the drawing as well as in the writing. It had to be watertight. So there was much work to do, as my enviroment, even though being very enthousiastic and supportive, also gave me loads of critisism, which every time again would knock me down, but as I had no choice - considering the track I was on forever - I had to then improve myself. And in this, I was certain, one day I would become the very best. This was my life-investment. This also determined my choice of doing philosophy, if anything, to broaden my perspective on reality - because writing was about "imitating and creating reality." The writers which amazed me most and struck me as being "the best" had a very "philosophical dept" in their writing, which was connected to knowledge. Therefore, I had to "cath up with this" and do philosophy - so as to one day in the future, become the best writer in the world - in my world - to be famous. (In the drwaing years this had also been my expectation - that I'd be famous.)

It is so clear now how i functioned. I would write - write to finish a story and then let people read it. In this showing of my story I would everytime hope people would go: "wow this is just amazing! You're a genius !" But this never happened. In general people would be enthousiastic about parts of it, or even sometimes about most of it, but then there was allways something wrong with it in the end. So after the initial blow and emarrasment, I would then go and fix this "ugly spot" - but then it would still be no good and I would ten say ok, I'm just gonna write a comlplete new one, this time it will be perfect - and so this continued for years.

It is a loop - this endevour - a cyclical movement which lead nowhere. Why? Because I was "looking for something" in the fucking wrong place. It is fascinating how I coud keep myself to believe the goal I was after could actually be attained. The thing is - as long as I don't attain "the goal" I can keep on believing it exists and it is actually this goal I need and will solve my "problem." If it is the meaning of life to just endlessly keep ourselves busy, then yes, in the mind is where you need to be. The mind is not freedom. It is slavery - slavery to illusion.

Sunday, April 6, 2008

Katrijn - running away again

After seeing the tree of life interview for Paul http://nl.youtube.com/watch?v=CF_Vj3Y3X68 I finally came to understand somewhat better what it is I have to look at myself, but that I have been omitting, even after it had been rather specificly suggested to me that I should. The similarities with my own "situation" were too obvious and in my face to ignore. So, time to write some about my childhood dreams and the expectations I had of myself - who I wanted to be.

I feel like "telling" the story backwards, like I so often do. So, when I had decided to leave Kortenberg this meant I had to take on my "old life" again. This was the hardest period of my life. I was re-inserted in the schoolsystem and family-life. It was pure horror - unbearable misery, this caused me to lose hope completely. I couldn't believe this was my life. I cannot even describe it anymore. I started to feel dead inside, my arms would often feel heavy and I would feel like crying. I realize now that Kortenberg - a psychiatric hospital - had been my very last hope for freedom. Yes. I was amongst people of my own age there and the adults (nurses, "doctors" and psychiatrists) were of a whole different kind than my parents. They were "kind" and "understanding". While being there I didn't have any classes - there was nothing of the obligations I had in Real life. Therefore, I perceived this to be freedom - away from my parents and society's enslaving and suffocating hold on me. This place was like a dreamworld to me - an island within reality - it was amazing it even existed. Also the adults were actually interested in us (because they were paid for this). So - I could experience myself in a position of relative freedom - I was more free there than at home. This was a place where I could breathe. I started to hope and believe this "solution" to my life could in some way or another be extended into infinity. To never - EVER - have to "go back". Thats the reason why I kept on playing the part - although it was not so strategically planned, but rather perpetuated by fear in the moment - of being depressed to the point of considering suicide. I literally had to "convince myself" of my lie - otherwise I could not do the job. Furthermore - I was no expert, so I could always give the excuse that I actually just didn't understand myself. (I used this excuse towards myself). But anyway, somehow I had become CONVINCED it would be possible in the future to find a permanent solution - somewhat like the one I was in now - to the problem of me not wanting to be in the world like I knew it - my life. Yes, i was literally waiting for a miracle!!! To be honest this was also related to my sisters. When I was in kortenberg it was like they "disappeared" together with my parents. They all became non-existant. It was just me again - in an enviroment that saw me as just that. I was not associated with anyone - it didn't matter I had sisters. My life was now (in my head) moved to Kortenberg and I wanted it to stay there. I could care about myself again - me alone. Unfortunatley, the only way to remain in this arrangement was through deception on my account - I had to deceive myself completely and totally.

Ok, this was not the "plan" but let's talk some about katrijn, otherwise I'm fucking NEVER gonna do it. After more than a month time - I had been placed in the youth-department of the hospital, and there in a specific group aswell, a new girl joined our group. This was K. She was very troubled and very closed, quiet most of the time. Inside she was a raging vulcano. Because I myself seemed to be rather stable in comparison with the other youngsters that occupied the place - I develloped this "stability" attitude/facade. Like: you can allways talk to me - I'll be there for you. When K. entered the stage was after N.A. had left Kortenberg - she dissapeared out of my life forever. I didn't talk much yo her initially - but she drew my attention, because - actually because I saw myself in her - to me she WAS me, but then a girl. Thet fact she behaved in a rather boy-like fashion probably triggered this inside me as well. Or to put it differently: she wasn't "girlish". She had the seriousness of a boy. Also she had the same type of family situation at home: being the oldest of three kids and fearing her father extensively - he was apparently a real jerk. The few stories she told about him reminded me heavily of my own father - we shared the same hell.

So, one day we went on a forest-trip with the whole youth-department. this was one of the special activities that were organized once in a month or several weeks. I had exchanged a few words with her that day. Mostly she would walk completely on her own, talking to nobody. Already then I sarted to feel the need to keep an eye on her - I started to fear she might get in trouble. When we were back at our department, later in the evening I found her sitting all by herself in the livingroom of our group. She was sitting on the floor with her back against the wall. She was all miserable - she barely had the strength to speak. She was silent, but at the same time it was as if she was screaming. I sat myself down in one of the chairs and it was silent in the room - I took a chair not so close to where she was sitting, there was much space between us. I sensed there was a crisis going on - this was real. It is then that within the silence I said, out of the blue: "I want to run away." (I spoke the words as if I was speaking to myself - as if I was the one in deep trouble - but clearly with the intention that she would hear me.) I sensed that if I did nothing something was gonna happen. So I presented a "solution" myself. I was amazed at her answer. She said: "Really? Me too..." How did I even know this? But anyway, the evening ended up with me asking if a guardian/nurse would open the door/window of the garden for us so we could go for a walk in the secluded garden. Katrijn knew there was a hole made in the fence somewhere. So that evening we "ran away" together. I was aware this would cause me trouble - but for some reason that didn't matter. I ask myself this question now. Why did I do this? Really? What was I after? It seems in my perception she counted more than me. I remember when realizing how much trouble this would get me in - I just pushed through it. I could not, in any way, let her alone tonight. I was more in fear of what might happen to her - what she might do, than what would happen to me. Apparently I placed all my vulnerability and fear of death inside her, that evening. So in a twisted way - I was looking after myself - to not lose me forever. (this is the "hero-seperation syndrome" I explained earlier, with regards to vulnerability).

We didn't get very far that night. We took a lift to the nearest town/city and walked in the streets there. It was very very cold that night. At one point she said she felt regret about how her mother would react etc. She also said she was bored. People who are deeply depressed are bored all the time. So, I then asked her if she wanted to return and she said yes. So, we took a ride back. At 4 am we were back in the hospital. The next morning she received a phonecall from her mother. I was standing nearby as she took the phone. After a while she screamed "GODDAMMIT !!!!" and this sound came all from the back of her throat - it was like a lion grawling at his max volume. She smacked down the phone and ran - she was running - possesed by anger towards her room - hysteric - I had never in my life seen a person getting this angry. I felt all shaky inside, as i had seen this happen. To me, this was all my fault. The situation with K was so extreme several personel went running after her, because they feared she was gonna beat it, or even worse, kill herself. I then went to my room and started crying hysterically myself. Instead of caring after her, I had completely destroyed her. And I blamed myself accordingly. I felt regret and wish I had never undertaken this thing. From my perspective I had screwed her up completely - through lack of real thinking. This had been my "boyish" solution, completely stupid and with no consideration for reality again.

A few days later, I saw katrijn talking with some people in the kitchen. She mentionned how it was the opinion of one of the nurses that I had "come with K. to protect her." She said this to me and found this completely hilarious and absurd - I felt forced to laugh somewhat along with her, so as to not look like a complete fool. The way she said it, meant: how could someone even think I would be capable of protecting her? (Rather, this is how I understood it).

That very same day - or the next - very unexpectedly my mother stood in the hospital. She came walking up to me all in tears, her face completely broken. Then she hugged me very - how to say this, desperately. She deplored me to come back home this weekend and she said: "papa won't be mad!" (I had never seen my mother in so much grief.) In that moment, i felt very confused. But mostly I felt embarrased because she "hugged me desperately" right in front of a lot of people from my department - I felt very awkward. Also I had a twisted relation towars my mothers body, as I explained previously. She never hugged me - we never gave eachother physical affection. I didn't want to be seen like this together with my mother. I felt she was making a pathetic scene - it was not even about her, or about my parents why I had "run away again". I cannot say the state she was in didn't shock me - but I mostly hated her for intruding, for putting her foot in my world like this, as if she had the right to do this - to come and CLAIM me, here, in front of everyone. It was her trying to get controll over me again - to get a hold on me again - manipulative (from a minds perspective) - she just would not let me go, let me have a life on my own. (a life on my own in a psych hospital, yes). Her tears did not shock me however. This was just how I perceived her, as who she was: emotional. In watching romatic films she would ALLWAYS cry, therefore her tears meant nothing to me. To me they were not real.

Now I think of it there is no person I have so often seen in tears as my mother... This was especially the case in watching films. But anyway, the weekend I came home, I stood downstairs and my father was upstairs. So he had to come down to meet with me. I was very very (shit)scared to face him. because I didn't understand him - how he worked - so to me his reactions were completely unpredictable. But what he did was walk up to me and he said in a normal and gentel way: "No running away anymore." And then he hugged me. I was very much taken by surprise - me being held suddenly against the body of my father, which felt somewhat alien to me, because of the weight he had gained in the years. (I never physicly touched my father in any way whatsoever.) Because I knew of nothing else to do, I responded to his hugging and tried to hug him back - this was again very awkward to me - and then I burst out in tears on him. I just let myself go. This never happened before - Id didn't understand what his "move" was. What was he trying? Did mom ask him to do this? Was he forcing himself? This was the very first time my father showed me any tenderness - and frankly I didn't care if he was honest in this or not, I just used the opportunity to cry - my tears were real.

I was surprised he had this "inside him" however. I had expected him to still be angry in some way. But instead of showing his anger and hate, this is what he did.

Saturday, April 5, 2008

Introspections after getting fired

So today my parents returned from their vacation. I told them I lost my job, that I got fired - because they asked me how work had been this week. They were mor surprised than upset, aslo because of the way I told it. I tried to not be carried away by anxiety, but there was still a lot - fear of their judgement. What bother me is that I tried to give an explanation as to "why I got fired", to justify it - so that I don't look too bad. (the work was simply too intensive and hard etc.) But all this reasons don't actually matter. Why can't I be fearless with my parents? What exacty do I fear? My father, for one, he was a bit stunned by this, my mothger too I think. I just told them boldly and then carried on and told it was ok and I would find another job.

After I got upstairs I just felt like crying, and I cried. But it was not about me being fired. rather I felt regret... i'm not sure though about what. A few days ago I watched "Jurrasic Parc" and immediately afterwards I set off for work. Underway I cried heavy tears - I had not seen this film in more than maybe ten years, while it was one of my favoriete movies when I was a child, we had the film on cassette. It is this same cassette I watched again. I don't know what exactly triggered the tears - but in starting to speak self-forgiveness I quickly found I had regret about losing my child freedom. The freedom I experienced as a kid , had lots to do with my imagination. It seems that when I was a child the world was vast and endless, while later it has become more and more closed, more and more limitted. I used to play a lot with lego in my room - I played all alone, by myself, there was no need for anyone else. This was no "innocent" playing, however. i would play War games, with two opposing armies. This is how I perceived life as a child. There was the good ones and the bad ones - and the bad ones, they never won. I wanted to be part of the good ones, and not just an average good one, preferably a hero, THE hero. So the War/spacebattle would always end in a very similar way. And this game I played over and over again - allways the same scenario.

Wednesday, April 2, 2008

Self-blame

Ok this nut has taken me a while to crack and to simply figure out it was even there. With me being angry after work - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sljkj5pRZ4A - I figured it had to do with feeling inferior to a boss or manager, but it is not quite that either. What i found as being a real trigger is when I blame myself fro doing something "wrong" or not being "up to something" - I do this so often I didn't even see it anymore. I literally blame myself for everything that go "wrong" around me, this go from apparent little insignificant to visible stuff. I blame myself when somebody in my presence feel bad or is in pain or sadness, I blame myself when I drop something on the floor, I blame myself when at work I don't immdiately understand something, I blame myself when my parents are sad or angry, I blmae myself when my father gets angry - no matter who he is supposedly angry with, I blame myself when somebody gets irritated or frustrated by something in my presence - even if this has in an obvious way nothing to do with me, I blame myself when somebody is unhappy around me, I blame myself when somebody cry around me, and the list goes on. I blamed myself when we were playing foofdball, because I believed it was my fault we were losing the game.

I forgive myself that i have allowed myself to blmae myself for everything that supposedly go "wrong" around me.

I forgive myself that i have allowed myself to blame myself when my mother is sad or upset.

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to blame myself when I tell something to somebody that afterwards appear to be incorrect.

I forgive myself that I have alowed myself to confuse self-responsibility with constant self-blame.

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to think I am to blame when somebody hurts himself around me.

I forgive myself that i have allowed myself to blame myself when something happens to a friend of mine.

I forgive myself that i have allowed myself to blame myself when something happens to a friend of mine, because I fear "I may have played a part in the circumstances that may have lead to my friend having an accident."

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to blame myself for the death of Emmerik - because I "could have been a better friend to him and be more supportive towards him."

I forgive myself that i have allowed myself to blame myself for F. being devastated after his father died, because I didn't go to the funeral of his father.

I forgive myself that i have allowed myself to blame myself for F. his father dying of lung-cancer - "because I smoke cigarettes too".

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to blame myself "because L. is completely devastated because of how her boyfriend treat her and I could have been a better friend to her thereby preventing her being so sad and broken."

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to blame myself because L. don't talk to me anymore - therefore I must have done something wrong.

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to blmae myself because Katrijn is angry with me.

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to blame myself for Katrijn exploding in anger and desperation, because I hepled her to run away, thereby causing her parents to be mad at her.

I forgive myself tht I have allowd myself to blame myself for not visiting Katrijn enough.

I forgive myself that i have allowed myself to blmae myselfbecause I gave Katrijn some weed to smoke, while she was on heavy medication, thereby causing her to have a heavy psychosis wiitch lasted for several days.

I forgive myself that i have allowed myself to blame myself and judge myself "because it was me who had given her the weed".

I forgive myself that i have allowed myself to blame myself because she expected me to visit her every friday - and on one day I just had not come, while she had spend and entire day in isolation cell - looking forward to my visit.

I forgive myself that i have allowed myself to blame myself "because ktrijn was all in tears on tyhe phone begging me to coma and visit her - because she had imagined and expected I would come because it was friday."

I forgive myself that i have allowed myself to blame myself and judge myself because this girl was getting angry at Wim - to the point he was getting tears in his eyes and he didn't dare to give her any response.

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to blame myself for Katrijn being hatefull with me.

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to blame myself for the suffering Katrijn went through after she had smoked weed.

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to think and believe I "caused" Katrijn to suffer, not realising she did it to herself.

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to blame myself when my mother sudenly get angry/upset with my father - because I assume this is somehow related to me.

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to blame myself for my father apparently being angry because he raises his voice, as I would lay my ear against the floor of my room.

I foegive myself that I have allowed myself to blame myself for my father being angry with someone.

I forgive myself that I have allowed and accepted myself to blame myself when my fayther gets angry at someone.

I forgive myself that i have allowed and accepted myself to blame myself when my father is depressed - because he having to take care of me is the cause of his worries.

I forgive myself that I have allowed and accpeted myself to blame myself for my fathers "loss of freedom".

I forgive myself that I have allowed and accepted myself to blame myself for my father being unhappy - because I cause him so much trouble.

I forgive myself that I have allowed and accepted myself to blame myself because my father is affraid.

I forgive myself that I have allowed and accepted myself to blame myself because my mother is affraid.

I forgive myself that I have allowed and accepted myself to blame myself because I watched porn and my parents found out and now they think i am a pervert - degenerate.

I forgive myself that I have allowed and accepted myself to blame myself for my parents being angry at me.

Tuesday, April 1, 2008

sf on conflict about maite commenting me

Ok, I get really worked up - angry/full of rage - when Maite point out something for me that concerns this process or when she supposedly wanna make me see something or show me my self-dishonesty. I completely freak out inside, like just now - she was reading some on my blog and immediately tell me, as I am busy doing something nearby, I put a line of sf in a strange way. When she wanted to point out, I felt so worked up, I gave her an excuse - I am busy - so as to not have to hear whatever it is she wanna say. Afterwards at dinner - this is immediately afterwards - I feel loads of resentment comming up towards her. So what's the deal whit this? It is not that I am so affraid of someone pointing stuff out for me - it is specificly with maite: I become hatefull towards her, full of irritation.

In general I tend to judge her - allmost all - posts on forum as attempts at wanting to play clever. Obviously this means I do this myself... if that is the way I react to her. So:

I forgive myself that i have allowed myself to want to play clever on the forums.

I forgive myself that i have allowed myself to allways assume and expect I am right.

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to seek attention through making clever statements.

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to want to show-off how "self-honest and advanced in process I am."

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to want to show-off how "self-honest and advanced in process I am", so that others may admire me and look up at me.

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to want to stand "above" my sisters - above maite - and above everyone on the forums.

I forgive myself that i have allowed myself to want to stand above people so as to not be vulnerable.

Ok, this mpoint being somewhat cleared, lets get back at what i started with. The thing is when she started making her comment, I thought it was an "injustice" of her to do this because I expose myself, put myself vulnerable into the open and I felt I was being critisized and judged - even if this was not actually the case, that's not the point. I felt she was "taking advantage of me" - taking me right where it hurts.

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to fear equality as complete vulnerability and absolute self-honesty.

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to fear equality as complete vulnerability - not realizing I remain.

I forgive myself that i have allowed myself to fear standing as equality as absolute vulnerability.

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to define vulnerability as "being hurt in my feelings".

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to fear I am "no good at sf" and maite is "better at it than me".

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to define my sf as "very personal" and therefore nobody may make any comment about it - people may actually only congratulate and praise me.

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to need to be prased and congratulated, because otherwise I feel uncertain about myself.

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to need praise and congratulation so as to not feel completely lost.

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to fear I will be "lost" if i let go of my mind completely - instead of realizing I REMAIN - I CANNOT LOSE ME

tenderness and my mothers body - I am not qualified for love

In previous post I had talked about connecting loss of mother tenderness to me being a boy. I vagely remember moments where my mother was in the bathroom with maite and leila -just the three of them - and I sensed or assumed I was not allowed to enter, because it was all girls and a woman amongst themselves. Was it me who "excluded" myself? There was a period where I would take baths together with leila, she being very little. But then I started diliking this, because leila would - this started at some point and then never stopped - allways want to touch my penis - for her this was just a game. She would try to touch it and I would be all upset and block her hands. This was so much fun for her she laughed all the time while doing this. Then I said I did not want to take baths with her anymore "because she shit in the bath" - wich had happend once and a while, some time ago, but it was not the real reason.

I dont think this was already the case when it was just me and maite, but when leila joined in it became apparent to me I was the "different one". Because they were both girls there existed more intimacy amognst them and my mother, on a physical level. Leila would - even if she grew big very fats - want to sit on my mothers lap for until a very late age. I mean: I saw it as weird and abnormal that leila being this or that age now - still being welcome to sit on my mothers lap. I hated leila for this. I saw her as being sticky towards my mother and absorbing all her attention and tenderness. And a part of me started disliking my mother aswell. Even today I am completely uncomfortable about my mothers physical presence - when she is very close to me. This is not solely related to leila, however.

For example my sisters don't seem to have a problem with hugging my mother. For me this is allmost unthinkable. I also remember starting to have problems with seeing my mother naked, for example when we would go swimming and take a family cabine to undress ourselves. I sarted feeling repulsed by the idea of touching her body. I became affraid of her body. An invisible wall has risen between me and my mothers body. I had the feeling that it was not my mother anymore - and I didn't like her touching me aswell.

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to feel repulsed about my mothers body.

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to be affraid of my mothers body.

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to be affraid to hold my mother, to give her a hug.

I forgive myself that i have allowed myself to be angry when my mother try to show me tenderness.

I hated my mother because once she gave me a painfull slap in the face - this was very rare. Normally only my father would hit me. I didn't expect this from her. I thought she was evil in that moment.

I forgive myself that i have allowed myself to hate my mother because she gave me a painfull slap in the face.

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to blame myself because I don't receive my mothers tenderness anymore and physical affection.

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to blame my penis that I am being excluded from physical tenderness with my mother.

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to believe and think I do not deserve mother physical tenderness because I have a penis.

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to think and believe that i am to old now for any tenderness with my mother.

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to fear my mother is repulsed by my physical body.

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to fear my mother will reject me if she sees my phisical body.

I forgive myself that i have allowed myself to be ashamed about my physical body towards my mother, because I am a boy - but I am not a man.

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to hate my penis and my physical body because I am a boy, but I am not a man.

I forgive myself that i have allowed myself to be frustrated about the size of my penis - because I am not a man like my father.

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to think i must either be a girl or a man, but with the size of my penis and the weakness of my body I am neither of both.

I forgive myself that i have allowed myself to think i am inferior to my sisters because "I am neither a girl or a man."

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to desire being either a girl or a man, so as to be equall with my sisters or with my father.

I forgive myself that i have allowed myself to hate being aboy, because it means i am nothing.

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to think and believe that if I am neither a girl or a Man then I am actually nothing - so I must make a choice.

I forgive myself that i have allowed myself to feel inferior to girls because I "am not even a man"- I have no real strength like my father.

I forgive myself that i have allowed myself to fear that if my mother don't show me physical afection, she don't love me anymore.

I forgive myself that I have allowed myself to think and believe that because I am neither a girl nor a Man, I am not "loveable"- I cannot be subject to someone's real love.

I forgive myself that i have allowed myself to think and believe I am not loveable - even for myself.

I forgive myself that i have allowed myself to reject myself because apparently I am not loveable - as my mother dont love me anymore like she used to.

I forgive myself that i have allowed myself to exclude myself from life and from love and tenderness - because apparently I am not qualified for love.