26/12/20: Prayer to the gods

My Private Notes

For healing as a Christmas Day blessing, heartfelt and raw

Answered with: Page of Cups
Prayer has been heard, and will be answered. Prayer is appreciated.

I have been learning something new about myself that I must get down. It’s kind of been a series of realisations highlighted by a specific one last night.

I have self-hatred, a lot of it. This manifests in many ways. Homicidal fantasies are how it manifests when projected outwards. This is, internalised narcissism, at the root of which is shame and hatred of the self. Turned inward it is suicidal ideation.

However, how I know it to be within me, is he who is called ‘the monster’.

I have many alters that reflect his dysfunction. Perhaps a system of alters in their own right. James, the wayward knight. Asmodeus, the devil of rage and lust. Kylo Ren, a dark Jedi.

Evil. They would all kill. In fact, they are all murderers. But internalised. James is, some kind of ‘past life’, a warrior. Asmodeus is a spiritual devil. Kylo is a fictive dark Jedi. Projected outwards, they would have me become the very evil I so hate. But they, despite all illusion of aforementioned homicidal fantasy, are not. They are projected inwards.

I run away with my thoughts. The point is – This is the evil, the darkness within me, that wants only death and destruction. It would be satisfied only when my own self-destruction became immanent. And despite that, mostly it sleeps. For that energy is too bound up to be of any use in such a form. It sleeps. He sleeps. Death sleeps. The monster in me sleeps.

So many times I’ve fought against it. He raises his ugly head, in whatever form, and I have fought. I have fought tooth and nail, I have fought until there’s nothing left within me, only more exhaustion and more necessity for slumber of the rage. I have fought, even by embracing the darkness, by attempting to identify with it, to identify it, I have fought. By identifying with the darkness, there is the strange sense unable to be expressed clearly here into words that I am still rather resisting the message within it.

But I don’t want to fight anymore, I don’t want to resist. I must let the darkness be, without identifying, without banishing in fear alluded as misguided strength. It is not strength to push it away, it is strength to let it be, without becoming wrapped up in it, this I know to be a truth. I must feel, and breathe…. and let go of the stories of identification, for only that way can I let go of the resistance, of the need to fight, and instead embrace the hatred and rage, the monster within, with selfless compassion.

Let the rage just be. I am not going anywhere (hopefully not any time soon, despite the monster’s need). And so through this I learn hatred is just an innate part of me, due to what I have been through, and I seek not to change it in any way, neither through the act of identification which would change it’s very nature and corrupt the darkness itself… darkness fighting within itself becomes further darkness, and I am tired. Let the darkness just be. Maybe it doesn’t even need to sleep, if it’s not exhausted from fighting itself and it’s own self-identification anymore.

Regardless. The hatred is there. And the hatred fights against my own self-compassion, my own self love.

Asmodeus. He is the devil of rage and of lust. It is curious how violence brings forth lust, no? In my imaginations, my own violent acts cause arousal. I see it time and again on tv. Men for millennia have oppressed women through their sexuality due to violence. There is an innate connection between the two.

Why else does BDSM exist?

It’s said that the same part of the brain processes both love and hate, therefore the two can become confused with one another. Such primitive biological and instinctual need, the two, necessary for survival both. Where there is one, there is another. And so it is within me. Love and hate, lust and rage mingle until there’s only a twisted picture of what was, the reality of my emotion.

This is the darkness, my darkness. And this is most keenly experienced during masturbation, it is exactly why I’ve had so many troubles with the act and yet – have not even understood it. Until now.

I dissociate, so as not to feel that fight, between self-love and self-hate, that arises when attempting such an act. Of course it could be said the same within intimate relations too, except I am solitary and have been for a while, and my previous attempts at intimacy have been failures, likely due to all this.

There was no love in my childhood. And there was a lot of internalised shame and self-hatred. Regardless of any founded truth of sexual abuse in my early childhood which will forever remain unknown, it suddenly dawned upon me last night when attempting again to masturbate how such an act of literally loving oneself, perhaps the most intimate, could become the doorway to such self-hatred.

This is why instinctively I dissociate during sex or masturbation, and always have. The rage within me is triggered, and is too much to be handled. Alters arise to compartmentalise. Some of those alters are actively traumatised by others of those alters actively seeking to traumatise. In attempt no doubt to self-protect, this is all it is.

Why else is it that when I attempt to feel genuine self-love in pleasure, I feel nothing, I feel numb? And the only time I can feel something is when my body is abused – either at my own hands or as in the past at times, directly or indirectly at the hands of others?

The answer is this: Love and hate are too entwined for me. Of course, knowing this makes it a potential strength. Such knowledge can be used in healing, as can any knowledge such as the realisation which dawned upon me which I am now sharing.

When I attempt to self-love in any manner, self-hate will automatically rise to meet it. And that is the journey of healing for me really, acknowledging it compassionately, and thus doing it a service.

I don’t really know how to end this floury of fancy words. But one thing to me is clear to me now, no, two things in one:

Self-hatred is an innate part of me. And, that arises when I attempt self-love.

But the answer? Breathe through it. That is all I have to do. Be present with the darkness, as it meets the light.

And presence is the knowledge of the process.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s