A hundred doors slammed shut and sealed with the heat of my remains burning in the May sun, soaking in the warmth of fire and cradled by the coolness of earth. That was how I survived. Had it been Winter, I gladly would have frozen to death. I did try that one frigid night not so very long ago, but it was too long past my utter desolation, thus I only tasted the attempt. I did not gorge myself on death.
Not the way he gorged himself on money and power and food and attention and cigarettes and despair and sex.
Like a child who has never known boundaries, within or without. A narcissist flailing about in a 6’5″ body. And, as is the wont of men, tearing down those around him as he self destructs.
The shock was overwhelming. The pain unbearable, unspeakable. There are no words. Like child tortured before concepts are in place to name, to tame, that external influence which hurts so much.
It hurts it hurts it hurts please stop please stop please stop.
Am I truly only 5 years old?
Not 5 in years, that is long gone. But 5 in emotional time. Stuck, trapped within walls where no doors were ever built, and windows are too high to climb. He is only 5, at best. Maybe only 2. His emotional distress and selfishness run like a rampant toddler in a candy store of healthless delights.
Pattie Henry says we attract those who are our emotional equivalent. Am I so damaged that I only attract emotionally incested men whose false shell is an acre wide filled with blistered, rusting metal and wind-blown refuse and putrid, rotting sexual anatomy, while their true self cowers within a dandelion seed? I have such a difficult time accepting this view of myself. Is it really my truth? Does this become my true self the moment I step into the intimate relations ring with men?
I asked the cards about today. Last night, as part of my learning and studying, I asked with three cards. What major event will affect me tomorrow? What is the most important thing I will face? I drew three cards. The Sun reversed. Page of Pentacles reversed. Six of Wands reversed. Two of Swords. Maybe Something about my career and a tough decision I would have to make between a logical choice and an intuitive choice. Something I would have to face.
That I am, emotionally completely immature?
Goddess, can that be true? I don’t feel like I behave like I child. I have many trigger points and buttons which can be pushed so I react like a freaking robot, yes. But emotionally relate to others like a 5 year old? I may feel those emotions. I always assumed everyone did. But I choose not to ACT on them all the time, not to let them make my decisions for me.
How can I see my truth without windows to let in the light?