When karma overran dharma

So…. the powers at work. Buckle up for a messy post. A little editing here: it is a dark post, but I am ok now. So you could save yourself some darkness and continue to the next post if you like. πŸ˜€

What’s it all about? I said goodbye to the bookstore man a few days ago. Thought it would give me peace not to be sent all over the place by his mood swings I do not understand. But ever since I have noticed that I seem to have the ability to outdo him in that. After 3 days of continuous crying, chocolate, fries and chips I’m trying to make heads and tails of it right now. Not really looking forward to learning what I have to learn. Lately I seem to do the mayor stuff by rock-bottom experiences, this does not feel any different.

On top of that I have my period. Worth mentioning? Well, yes, since it is the first real one with the hormonal inbalance in 5 years. This innerspring thing I have seems to have lost its charm. I was already wondering last week what was happening in my world when 5 different people around me started speaking of having periods while I was thinking ‘Gosh, I have not heard that word in years!’. But now I know; back are the nightmares, the pain, the darkness. I had forgotten about that. No vomiting, heart palpatations, freezing and sweating all over or fainting this time but shit, I so don’t want to go there anymore. I feel I can’t bear that now. It is too much. I feel like I’m drowning.

My glasses broke. New ones cost 400 euro’s if I’m to have a pair that suits my face. I have a non-European wide face with a non-European nose, it takes a lot of time trying to find one that actually makes me look ok and intelligent instead of fat and ugly.

My tooth broke, the one that has been fixed 3 times in the last months.

Gay marriage has been approved in the USA, in my not so humble opinion suspicously timed with fast tracking the TPP; one of the darkest trade deals since the Dutch introduced worldwide slavery. Things are falling apart, I am falling apart.

So, yeah, it feels like I’m back to square one. Destruction is big, again, images of knives circling my body, drawing blood in a destructive ritual to bleed me out. This scourge torturing my back. Haven’t seen those in a while. :-/ Dark places. I notice I get into trouble lately because I don’t speak with friends about my alcohol past and I feel I can’t explain what is going on without letting them in on what I would like to keep from them. Not sure anybody would understand anyhow. I only spoke with the store man about it and the nutritionist friend but she’s very busy. Well, my SIL knows – but she doesn’t know about darkness and she would be worried and scared so, well. :-/

What happened? The store guy told me he quit using weed. I worried that was pretty early and then forced myself to stop having opinions and not making it my worry – I think it was ok-ish till then – apart from the point where I can’t stay out of it and actually have opinions :-/ And ultimately that seemed to be the whole point, well, my point. We spoke, all was fine-ish. Next day he posted something on Facebook, a list of photographs of everything what was bad and dark about this world. I think to know that place. :-/ I walked around there for years on and off since I was a teen and continuously during the months before I quit. I recognise / see it as the darkness leading up to the place where about 12 months ago I needed to decide ‘Do I want to live?’

The powerlessness, the incapacity, the whole world being dark; this place where light only seems to exist to illuminate all that is evil, illwrought, sickening and corrupt. Where happiness of other people hurts me and only proves their ignorance and well, general stupidity this world has no lack of. Yes, yes, I am familiar with arrogance as you may notice. And no I do not mean that for real, it’s a mood thing tainted by a more structural character failing. And yes I put it out here.

So, he was in a dark place and I went into this, what in hindsight looks like a familiar mode, I thought; ‘Let’s gear up and save this guy!’ (Don’t laugh, I am guessing by now most of you know this attitude to be the recipe for disaster.) I went over to the store. First, second or third sentence I heard was ‘I went to the coffee shop yesterday!!’ Not spoken like an fyi but more like a ‘and don’t you dare touch me!’ kind of thing. Well. If that is your deal, that is your deal…. Let’s see…. I thought of walking out immediately because I expect very little communication from somebody who’s fences are up so high but that would look like, I don’t know, reproaching? I worried, I think to know that place where things are sort of getting tight and thinking of wanting to quit and things not working out.

So I sat and listened to him spreading darkness with every sentence he spoke. He was trying to convince another friend of his of I don’t know what but it was bad. I was sitting in the store thinking ‘I should get out of here because he’s looking for a fight, picking them out of thin air and I am in no position to deal with this’.

Being me, I did not. I thought, as I have always thought; it is my fault, he probably felt pushed to quit by me and blabablablablaa. So… it is my responsibility to defuse this. I’m thinking my intention is not to only defuse but also to take the blame I guess… 😦 Looking back I have come to the conclusion that this has been my pattern all my life: I have thought that over my parents trying to verbally if not energetically kill each other, I’ve thought that in companies with people fighting. And I have always assumed it to be true; If they are angry it must be because I am bad. I should fix this. So I sat and let events take place till indeed things exploded, not without my help… :-/. Unfortunately or, more ‘of course’?

My cat takes another route: if I’m in a bad mood she goes out and does fun things on her own. πŸ™‚

I wish there would be another layout to WordPress where I could write my version of what happened on the left, and on the right what I learned from it. It took me 3 days of crying and desperation to learn that what somebody else does is non of my business. I don’t need to help. I don’t need to inform. I don’t need to defuse. I don’t need to be a lightning rod. I don’t need to tell about the books I read. I don’t even need to tell my own story or my blog address for that matter. (According to the stats only one person from my country has been here and read 2 posts so I’m confident that he will not, especially now, show up and you know, I am past caring about me in this. I thought I could deal, I could not. This whole thing send me spinning. Not proud. Fucked up. (BSM: if you happen to read this let me know if you’re not ok reading this and I’ll dunno, I’ll see.)

I learned that part of my want to help is driven by this feeling of lack of worth and hence I need to fix and control the other. Yes, there is a part that hurts when somebody else hurts and me wanting to lessen that but I need to get rid of the forcefulness. Which I guess… is what my therapist has been saying for 20 years now. (Hi!) Not sure how to deal with it. Intention, intention, intention, it is all about intention. And then there is this point where I don’t want to realise that my intentions are not clear and clean. 😦 When karma overran dharma.

He said something like how I had put pressure on him but it all hit the truth button pretty hard so I went in a systems lock down and can not repeat now what was said. I experienced a freeze. Complete with the inability to move, to walk, even talk for a few seconds, bend my neck and well, all the other systems alarm that goes with it :-/.Β  I can’t remember having had a real systems lock down since I have been sober. :-/ It was overwhelming at first but I was more surprised by the intensity than anything else.

Funny enough I could actually look at it and experience it somewhat separately. Not sure how to verb it because I’ve been eating this feeling away ever since, not exactly something I appreciate storing in my memory. It is like chaos ready to destroy all that comes in its way. But I do remember thinking: ‘So this is where I was born.’

Yes. I know. Not your ordinary day. I did not know the meaning of it yet until I had time to go home and think and feel things over. To me it is about the force of life, the creative chaos, the primordial soup, I’m guessing it’s the yin without the yang. The other day I was saying to a friend of mine: I wonder why I keep on meeting guys whose main issue is one with the destructive forces. Why? I guess I know now. I have an affinity with it. This is where I was born. Might be where everybody was born. Don’t know. I don’t know what it means but knowing it makes me able to stand upright while the powers (me? dunno) that be throw the shit at me that I have been going through the last days. Would be nice to ask the bookstore man, he would know where to look it up. :-/

And while at the other side of the counter the store man was very angrily defending his general right to be (way over the top) angry I was thinking: I was created in chaos. I am drawn to the power in it. I am drawn to the ability to destruct. I am drawn to people who know that darkness – this is why we are speaking here. I did feel threatened (not in the physical sense btw) and I guess my life force responded, it blew me of my socks, internally. Of course internally. God forbid I would fall apart in front of somebody :-/, specifically if it had not been admitted that I was right (of course… 😦 ). We spoke, we worked things out but I also managed to exactly NOT say what I thought I should on how anger influences me.

I keep on meeting people who, like my mom, seem to come out of nowhere and ignite. And me walking on egg shells and if the shit hit the fan, try to defuse the situation by being the lightning rod. There is a thing, coming from that meeting I went home, cried about my mom a lot and realised how her moodiness has influenced me. There was a moment I could dissociate myself from the drama and look at it. And then came my period and it all became messy again.

Next morning we had a FB discussion over a picture of a young girl showing her privates to a young boy and saying ‘with this I am going to control your life’. I have, after years of hating men finally come to a point where I see that both men and women are fucked up by the stupidity of this societal ideas of oppression and sex and oppression by sex. And of course thus by our familiar and individual trauma’s. Good choice of words ‘fucked up’. :-D.

with this I will controll your life

Well, whatever, things started of ok and suddenly seem to spin out of control because I made joke on ‘how things slow down at older age’. Got called ‘vulgar’ and I told him to bugger off. Literally. :-/ I realised I had gotten myself in a friendship with a person who, as a Jack out of the box, or, as my mom, comes out of some corner to jump at me all angry. 😦 And as hormone stimulated arguments go I deleted all FB contact, brought back my borrowed books and said; ‘With the process I am in I can not afford our friendship.’ and he replied with ‘You are always welcome here.’ Which I took as sincere, not meant to diss me.

And then I cried, over him, my mom, my dad, my inability to stay on my happy track, my moodswings, my process, the darkness in me, the darkness in this world and how fundamentally wrong I experience its mechanisms and our distance to what is natural. Well, the darkness that Gabor MatΓ© speaks about. Why the pain? And I could not find any light. Feel like I’m about to hand in life’s notice. I don’t want to be me anymore in this world. (= Learning by rock-bottom but not doing the learning yet. 😦 )

How very dramatically period-like. And how very ‘With this I will rule your life / badly influence our connection’. But in another way. The day before our last subject of conversation was ‘what you speak about happens in real life’. He said no. I said yes-ish. I guess there is that too.

Aaah, and then I read A hangover free’s post on emotional maturity and I thought: I have not managed any of these yet. I slept and dreamed about drinking and how I did not care any more about being sober but still handed back the bottle because my back is against the wall and drinking will only make it worse. You know, Brad from a home without a roof threw in the towel. It hurts. End of the road said goodbye to her blog – I am guessing for the right reasons but still, I would wish it were different. I hate to stand by and not be able to help somebody who’s in pain but I can’t. I just can’t. Experiencing the bankruptcy of the help-concept I have lived in all my life and it is not pleasant. I need to take care of me now. I’m exactly where I need to be but it is a fucking dark place. I want to smash and break things. Need to find the light again. Tolstoy springs to mind.

tolstoy happy

I am not sure if I am happy that I quit. I would have not been alive if I had not. Somehow that looks very inviting right now, to not have to care. So again, learning by rock-bottom experiences. But not sure if I’m doing all the learning.

I take: chocolate, fries, chips and meat. Several days now and I don’t give a shit.

I need: stuff this.

I want: things to be easier. The cat is ill again. Bladder infection and sneezing. 😦 Actually, I would LOVE to do an ayahuasca ceremony on this subject of darkness and help, boundaries of that and anger. That is what I want.

3 Things; the sun was out so I slept on the balcony and got a little tan. Musqitoes bite but do not leave big marks anymore which I guess says something about heath. And I finally finished this post, took me 3 days and actually I am feeling better. Ghegheghe, I saw bookstore man number 2 this weekend, he’s at another shop. He’s 72, I sometimes take him fries from the market. He’s got no lower teeth so he eats the soft ones, I the harder ones. πŸ™‚ He sees me walk in and says ‘What’s up with you? Love sick?’ ‘Well, something like it: friend sick. And I’m stuck.’ And then he hugged and kissed me and said: ‘Me too, me too. Everybody today.’ And we spoke about darkness, aggression, being stuck, alcohol (he did heroine and alcohol, now he does yoga and he paints) and relations and working out issues through relations. He’s a bit of a rascal, works out he has this 50 year old girl friend. Bookstore men. πŸ™‚ ❀ πŸ™‚

Must be funny for you to read this. If you were not surprised before you might now consider: do you ever speak with your book store man about love life and addictions? It seems I do. I’m building up this whole second life separate from my actual life where people whose last name, birthday, telephone number and address I don’t know, know way more about me than my friends. Sometimes it worries me. Sometimes I wonder; how is this different from the denial I was in when drinking? But also; I am friends with my regular friends because they walk in the clean world where life is easier. They have kept me sane these last years by being a reference, by not going down that trap of ‘drinking with inferiors’. And I have, over the years, said goodbye to all the heavy users/drinkers to make sure they would not weigh me down when I would need to get sober. Now I find I team up with people who did or do use because it is company where people need and look for personal development and the darkness can exist.

How did I get here? I’ve used Ctrl + to make the lettertype big on the screen but it gives me even less oversight over this post than earlier. Well, still not editing.

Sort of separate but I’m guessing also another motor in this unclear situation is this ego thing where I am attracted to knowledge and intelligence, secondly can’t stand that I know shit (which is not true but I think I don’t since I do not know Sanskrit or Chinese terms) and that makes me feel inferior, never good enough, meaningless, falling behind, useless. Sometimes I am ok with it and I can respect all the time and effort and specifically self-exploration that goes into the studies that the store man has done. And sometimes I feel shit and wanting to lash out. It twists my intentions.

And then there is the subject of sex which I am not willing to discuss but I guess it is part of the equation. Since day one I realised that I had difficulty with dealing with this friendship so there is a big no-go in the yearning and wanting. Also because I feel the yearning and wanting is impolite, specifically when somebody is in a relation or not interested. I am pretty sure he would feel this through the air anyhow – so, a no-go because impolite. We discussed it, came to the conclusion that for both it is there sometimes but it is not always important, nor looked for. It is only now that I told him to bugger off that I suddenly think that sex would be The Perfect Solution. πŸ˜€ (Sorry!) But he’s taken anyway. Or not, or is, or not, or, don’t know. Traffic light relation with his GF. And then there is the 1 year rule. So… Noticing now why the 1 year rule is important. I can’t even deal with friendship. And then there would be his 1 year rule to consider. So, no-go.

I need to deal with finances. Falling in love and storming towards a big rejection of somebody who is either in a relation or can have his pick from a shitload of interesting, educated, smart, beautiful, fresh, well-read, slim, succesful, healthy, yoga-ish, balanced, developed women who come walking in every day, speak his language, have travelled where he has been and (some of whom) lay themselves down at the coffee table is NOT a smart thing to do. 😦

Still, my heart (or karma?) says: ‘I recognise darkness, I smell power (issues), I feel limitlessness. Let’s check this out!!!!!’ πŸ™‚ And there it goes happily bouncing out of its chest, messing up life and generally heading for disaster. A situation I, as a standard tend to mistake for love. πŸ™‚Β  Sorry. 😦 Guess I’ve got some learning to do.

It is 03:24 here, night time. Time to go to bed. This must be my longest post every. I’ve learned a lot. Karma overran dharma. It is out of my system now. Hope by writing about it I did not put it in yours. And shit I do not have to worry about that. It is not my care. I do worry about privacy, not mine. Not sure how to deal.

Hope you have a nice day/evening. πŸ™‚

On drinking and paying for it

Dreamed that I drank last night, had forgotten that I did not anymore. It was some fruit punch laced with alcohol offered to me, on purpose. Well, he works for a beer firm. :-/Β  He used to have a relation with one of my best friends. She is 38 now and has been in a unfulfilling relationship with him for years. She needed a strong man and got it; she felt useless, overpowered and lacked self-esteem.

She broke up with him by moving into someone elses bed because he did make her feel valued. That did not work and now she is single after half a year while her ex…. found his soul mate and they are having a baby. Yes, yes, that is quick, quick for knowing somebody 5 months… what about ‘My app said that I could not get pregnant….’ πŸ™‚

So now my friend of 38 is alone at home feeling all kinds of undefined sadness and very defined jealousy but also realising that she could not have stayed with him. In the dream I was trying to tell her that this is the price we pay for bad choices. And I would almost say ‘as usual’ I did so without regards to her feelings since there is this part where I can’t bear what she’s doing and why she is ‘moaning’ while it is obviously the result of her lack of bad choices. She made a choice to be dependent on her ex. Then started to dislike it but still did not leave and now she is 38, alone and yearning for a baby. Doesn’t that…. sounds familiar? No wonder I can’t deal with her being unhappy over that. 😦

I am having a difficult time accepting the choices I made when boozing. Even in the years that I only drank 2 days in the weekend I knew I did not want kids. That was because of a whole lot of reasons but also because I did not want to quit yet and knew intuitively that I would get worse. Be dependent on a person, on a substance, make no choice and life passes by. It is tough to realise. I sort of thought, hoped, I don’t know, that I could undo stuff, that life had not started seriously because I was not serious about it. Now I find I can’t turn back time. It is silly to only find that out age 45, I know. I guess that was another aspect of life that I drank away.

So, my arrogance in the dream was nicely answered with a glass of whatever-punch that I drank – forgetting all about not drinking and not paying attention to the smell and taste of alcohol because I was so obsessed with my friends issue…. And I got sick, very much so. Not drinking has moved to the background in real life. I could imagine me stepping into such a punch trap because I don’t expect it. Booze to me looks like beer and possibly wine, not like fruit.

What does the dream mean? Not sure about any deep meaning but when I take it face value it points me at some issues I did not see by by showing me something that I can see: her pain. And it told me that arrogance will lead to drinking. Which I have already worked through once but obviously needed to see again.

I am happy that I quit, although it is time to move on and that feeling gets to a boiling point. I feel like I am waiting for divine intervention. That will come: the bank account will go. It is like making no decisions… that’s when others will decide :-/.

I want: to go out and walk in the sun.

I need: there is a lot of things that I think I should, but that is not what I need. I can not look at the place where the answer to what I need is. I guess that is called resistance. Must be something there I don’t want to know. Like: I need to get a move on… Which is absolutely true. I feel I have no hands to get hold of a beginning. Everything has changed, I am closer to home than I have ever been but I am not familiar where I am yet. I feel closer to home when it comes to me and my health, I feel further away from my former job and projects. So many things, layers, falling off. I stand but I have not been able to look at the surroundings.

So many things changed in the last month(s). I have found a beginning of a want to be nice to people. NEW! And that I can get to a place where I do not feel attacked or a need to be not nice when I align inside with the light I have met in my ayahuasca ceremonies.

I thought: only dead fish go with the flow. Which is an attitude that got me in trouble and got me doing my own detox and sobriety path that I think works well for me. That aspect of me: that the worse thing is sometimes also the best thing, that is strange. I often feel torn and unbalanced. Ghegheghe… the hippo says ‘Yeah, yeah, yeah, heard it before, this 80 Euro cent hippo is teaching me a lot. πŸ™‚

I feel like I am somebody different from whom I was. That is ok with friends who I see often but strange with people who I don’t. Aaah, that is a part of what makes the store man attractive: there is a new start in being there. In conversation with him I have taken the chance to say what I really, really mean. I do not often do that apart from here because I want to hide my drinking history. So that is what secrecy brings: lacking connection, loneliness.Β  I will go for a walk in the sun. Let some light in.

I take: I changed salts to others, one about backpain in the tailbone. I did sleep well but still wake up once a night to go to the toilet but now I do not wake up fully because I came from deep sleep. Somehow the cat always wakes me up when I need to go the toilet – or I need to go because she wakes me up. Still not sure. After she had a nest of kittens she has included me in her care. Telling me when to go to bed, waking me up.

And don’t read if you don’t want the nasty story: I still need to look this up but it feels like my urine has changed acid like apple cider vinegar – it irritates my skin if I’m not quick enough. I know it sounds bad but it does not feel bad in my body and I assume it is the acidity LEAVING my body – which is what some of the salts are for do: to alkalize. I still feel like I am loosing inches and a little weight but more because my body becomes more dense. Like I referred to with the shrinking of my ‘aura’. Need to check. To measure is to know.

I am halfway through another day of my life and I feel I only worked out issues and did nothing else. I’m getting fed up with me. But, happy that I quit. Now I can look at the being fed up instead of drowning it. πŸ™‚

I looked everywhere

A few years ago I attended 2 ayahuasca ceremonies led by an ayahuasquero. Ayahuasca is a natural drug that has been used by the indigenous people of Latin America for centuries. The ayahuasquero is the person running the ceremony. If used with the right set in the right setting ayahuasca brings insight in life and one of the special qualities of ayahuasca is the ability to restore the connection to nature and life.

I went for several reasons, one being that, after my mother died, I had lost my connection to life itself. It was as if half of my cells died with her and I could not find my way back. Undoubtedly my increased use of alcohol had a lot to do with that to. In preparation to the ayahuasca ceremony it is advised to follow a diet. The diet sort of excluded everything apart from fresh vegetables, fruits, water and herb tea. I lived on that for about 2 weeks only adding a little piece of fish here and there and a few glasses of cola.

I am trying to make this a coherent story but I am so sad, so sad.Β  Yesterday was a very heavy session at my therapist, living through pain that feels eons old, crashing onto me. That’s why I need to write, feel like drowning all of this in a six-pack, 2 six-packs and a bottle of wine. The reasons not to drink have disappeared and the only thing that is keeping me is the knowledge that it is not a good idea. The desire to be clear has left me.

The ceremony was in a farm in the country side. We were advised to bring a sleeping bag. You might be surprised to hear that I, apart from blogging about changes in toilet habits from the bottom of my heart, I am a rather private person when it comes to beds, bed covers and sleeping bags and even more peculiar when it comes to food. So, even though there was little place in the car I also took my pillow and another blanket. And some food to my liking of course, a big bag for 3 days. Can’t trust others to buy exactly what I might need now can I?

The ceremony started and I took care to arrange a bed in a dark corner, as far away from the crowd as possible. I was scared shitless, well not shitless, that I unfortunately noticed later. So I was scared. Scared I was going to die, scared I would be very sick, scared I had this funny heart or brain disease that would make me be the only person ever to die of ayahuasca and die in horrible pain but so quickly that nobody could actually do something about it, while shitting my pants and with puke in my hair. Or so quietly that nobody would notice, or, maybe they would not think it was serious and I would still die and, and, and, and…. pffff. Things to fear. Things to make up to fear.

The first ayahuasca wave hit me, I started seeing tiny purple speckles on my bedcover. PANIC!!!!! I don’t want to see purple speckles that are not there?!!!! So there came the orange dots, and the vibrant green, and they became a nauseating vortex of colours. I puked and everybody puked because puking is one of the things that happens. I think it cleans out the mental and spiritual shit. Loads of puking in special tiny puke buckets. I was scared and not yet shitless as I noticed when I crawled to the toilet 20 meters further. Crawled? Yes. Crawled. Glad I made it in time.

Then came the images of animals, lions with heads of an eagle, men with wings and heads of dogs, snakes. Gazillions of mythical animals rising up from the subconscious, invading my consciousness, doing macabre dances and loads of threatening and ritual killing of other mythical animals. My thoughts were caught up in fear of dying and having that horrible disease that would send me to hospital. And then I realised: it is not about the animals. It is about realising how scared I am, realising that I always think that I am threatened, always think that I have a disease that is unknown, always think I will either die or become insane in the next instance. Having worked that out the images changed to men raping and killing babies and laughing about it. I cried and cried and cried and cried because of being so, so scared and so, so tired of living and being scared. My worst nightmares had come true and I finally decided at that moment NOT to ‘go there’. I would not pay attention and even though I felt overwhelmed by all this (non)info coming from my brains I was going to choose another scenery. This is one of the first lessons of ayahuasca: There is a choice in how to deal with stuff, now choose.

That was when my ayahuasca spirit arrived and started speaking with me – well, in my head. Actually it felt she was outside my head, at arms length away, a little above my head. Something to do with a true sovereign. Not sure how it works. She was this tough uberbitch, not kind, not unkind, just present and CLEAR. Which was a good comparison because I had already walked on the path of alcohol for a long time.

‘You are sad? It seems to be your most used emotion.’ And believe me there was no judgement, only a pointing out of the obvious that I in my whole life had NEVER seen, noted or heard from anybody else.

‘How can you say that?! It is not like I choose to be sad?!!’

‘No, you don’t think you do, but you don’t put as much energy in being happy either….’

‘I just feel so alone! I have lost my connection. Since my mother died I feel like I am dying too. I am so sad!’

‘You have lost connection. Now look at what you do; you go to an ayahuasca ceremony to feel connected and you take your own blanket, even an extra one, your own pillow, your own food and you make sure to take place in the utmost corner far away from the group. You do not connect because you are scared people will upset you.’

And I cried, and cried and cried till I felt there was no tears left anymore. That ceremony I learned a lot of stuff, loads and loads of insights, big, small, beautiful, painful. But I was sad because I felt I was not connected. But the next morning I walked out of the farmhouse and the whole world and all of nature were alive to me. Finally I had found my connection back. Trees, flowers, grass, insects, the wind, people; they were speaking to me again and I was alive.

The next day there was the second ayahuasca ceremony and I started of with fear, sadness and disconnectedness only to go through the same conversations as the day before – but shorter. And finally I pleaded: ‘But I have looked everywhere for love and I have not found it.’

‘Where have you looked?’

‘Everywhere, really, everywhere out there!’ (That was in the landscape I experienced within the ayahuasca experience)


‘I can’t go anywhere, it is NOT out there. I am sure! I have travelled all over the place and not found anything. In real life I have been in intimate relations but I have found nothing. I am so sad….”


‘What? And?’

‘If it is not out there, where is it?’

‘Inside?! NOOOOOOOO! NOOOOOOO. Can’t be?!!! Can it?’

‘You could have a look.’

And I had a look and what I saw had such beauty that I feel, even in my mother tongue I could not describe to do it justice but I will try; I saw a room that looked like an ancient bathroom from the Middle East. In the middle of the room was a light of such clarity that it shone through my body, my mind, my soul and it laid bare who I was. It was GOOD, it was original, it was life, it was ancient and young at the same time, it was endless.

I cried and said: ‘I have never seen something that is so beautiful. It makes me so sad.’ And the vision went away. ‘Where did it go?! It was so beautiful and now it is gone! I am so sad.’ I cried.

And the ayahuasca said: ‘Sadness is still your favorite emotion is it not?’ I figured I should not be sad upfront and the vision reappeared in all its beauty.

And I cried and said: ‘This is so beautiful, this is so beautiful. They will come and destroy it. I am sure of it’ And the vision would be gone.

‘No, this is not the way.’ my ayahuasca spirit said and I would practise to leave the sadness and the vision would came back.

‘This is so beautiful! This is so beautiful! What is it? Ooh my God. No matter what you say I am sure they will come and destroy it.’ And the vision would be gone.

And I would practise to leave the sadness and the vision would come back.

‘This is so beautiful! This is so beautiful! What is it? Why have I never seen this before? It is so beautiful and I have never seen it before, that makes me so sad!’

Well, you’re getting the cycle now I guess? And I would practise to leave the sadness and the vision would come back. And right now, when writing this I am crying because it all seems so futile because the sadness is back. And there is another ceremony going on right now here in the city and I am not part of it because I let sadness and alcohol rule my life.

I should not be sad. I still have not learned! Jason Vale told me to be happy about quitting and today I have not been happy about it and that scares me. I have seen on of the most beautiful things in the world. I should not be sad, sadness makes it go away.

The cycle continued: ‘This is so beautiful! This is so beautiful! What is it? I have looked everywhere to find something that is so beautiful I am sure it has been destroyed everywhere! That is why it is so difficult to live my life. I am so sad that this is not around more.’ And the vision would be gone.

‘Ok, OK! I got it! I should not put sadness between me and the beauty. It is so sad that I put sadness between me and …..’

‘Ok, I think I got it. πŸ™‚ I should not put sadness between me and the beauty. This is so beautiful, I can’t believe it….. I don’t deserve this.’

And so I practised and practised. I met sadness another 10 or 20 times over. Along came fear of destruction until finally I worked out that what I saw: my divine spark. And I should not be sad to meet it. I was happy. I was happy because of the beauty that I carry within, that everybody carries within. I was happy because I had met it. I was happy because I had practised not being unhappy. I was happy because I had looked all over the world for it and had finally found it.

And now I am sad, because I have a body that has been attacked and has been brutalized and disturbed. The sacredness, the integrity that I had been born into has been destroyed and it leaves me wanting and yearning to be whole again. It has made me scared and does make me sad at so many levels. And in between all of that I know now that I need to practise to get away from that hurt and try to connect again and NOT look in the outside world for answers. In addition to that NOT look for solutions that come from the outside like beer and wine or food or chocolate and chips.

No matter what happened, right now I am the one that destroys the experience of the beauty within me. Can I go back and live from that experience? Take the ayahuasca vision into the world and live from that place? I feel I can’t, I feel I can. I don’t know. It hurts. I have been revisiting old pain yesterday at my therapist and shit it hurts, it hurts, it hurts. I am not sure if I want to live in this world. Guessing I’ll have to otherwise I come back as a clump of grass in my next life.

Thinking of the character of the pain now. It was not the physical pain, though in some cases that was big. It was not the suffocating and feeling I could not breathe, even though I thought I died. It was the betrayal of the persons that did it, knowing that they should not, knowing that they enjoyed hurting me and did not care because they wanted that and wanted what they came for. They betrayed not only the bond we had but also damaged my feeling of safety in the world and did not care. And with that came the betrayal of my mother who did not believe me and did not take action. It destroyed my self-worth. If my mother does not even care, it must mean I am worthless. And all along I kept thinking that I should be fair and straight and honest. Because that is how it should be. In my dreams.

It are these very strong dreams, ideals and losing those that have hurt me but hanging onto them while obviously they were not in line with reality (well, that would be the definition of ideal) has kept me from accepting what happened. It has kept me from closing the wounds and moving on. Their actions have kept me from ever trusting a man in an intimate relation, from having children, from working long time in places because always there would be a man in the workspace reminding me and the dynamics I bring along would force me to battle it out with him.

On another level these experiences caused extreme reactions in me and laid a pattern in which there is no healing possible but only extreme sensations of low selfesteem or, in reaction to that, supriority, because the experiences were too big and overwhelming to be carried by me. Not by me and not by my mom, that is why she had to silence me, to not be confronted with what she could not bear. And that is why she did not come to my aid because she could not bear it either.

I asked the ayahuasca what I would need to do workwise in the future. She said: ‘That is not important, the only thing you need to do is to get clear.’

Clear in the word of the ayahuasca as I understood it means: not drinking but also, not hiding, not blowing up feelings to the extend of totally lacking self worth or being all-knowing and all-powerful, not hiding behind excuses, just doing the stuff that needs to be done and speak the words that need to be spoken. And not mourning over the wrong things, being happy and living, not putting sadness between myself and every experience that I have, every person that I meet.

And here it is….. ‘Oooooh, NOOOOOOOOO, I can NEVER do THAT?!!’

Well, maybe I can not, but I think I should do it anyhow. It takes a decision and the maintenance of the decision. I have been practising that. I have been practicing being happy about not drinking. That worked, well, up to yesterday. I need to continue to practise it. And now I deserve a drink, if I don’t deserve a drink right now I don’t know when anybody ever will.

And so it goes on, and on and on until I fully realise that I do not have to walk that path anymore and have practised another path. As the ayahuasca spirit said:

‘I can only show you what is. You have to do the work yourself.’

Happy that I quit? Not sure. Tired. Way past bedtime.

Hurt and sad

Sooooo, this is what it is all about, getting sober. Happy it only comes in stages. Happy? Sad kind of happy. The mindless happy I have been carrying about has left the building. The happy that I quit feels all silly now.

I realised when writing comments to my former post that it is all very double (is that the word?) today. With seeing my brother the familiar historical feeling of meeting my family and having a freight train running over me, came back. And with opening up to others also the physical pain of the memories of betrayal came back in. Not just the mind memory and flashes of what happened any more. I had forgotten how big it was. I thought I knew. Now it washes over me. Don’t want to go there. No kid should be going through any of this. I keep on wanting to safe them all and I can’t even stand on my own feet. Fucking darkness. And the sun and the moon continue their ways and the Publish button keeps on bleeping. And the world does not stop even though it feels like it does in my little time capsule. The streets are so still I could imagine being alone on this world. My safe mind place.

Listening to music now. A list of the music of Habla con Ella. Which is something I actually hardly ever did before I got sober. And the first song to touch me is Raquel, how odd, the archangel of vengeance. And then there is Alicia, Alicia vive. And it describes how life just goes on, regardless.

Finally, with realising how close my brother and I we were I also realised how big the betrayal was, is, don’t know. I used to have nightmare as a kid that something would happen to him. Day in day out. Horrible. Other kids would come and hurt him and kill him. That what was dearest to me. My god what has happened?

Today is the first day that I regretted that I do not drink anymore. First time difficult in 2,5 months. I took a bath and slept. And now I am awake. How is this for asking help and all the shit gets worse because I relax. Or is it meeting my brother only? Don’t know. Tired now. And what is difficult is to keep on taking care of myself. Yesterday my brother kissed me hello after the concert he came from. His skin and breath smelled of alcohol and this transferred to my cheeks. I found out when I lay in my bed finally and I should have washed my cheeks but I did not because I was too tired to get out of bed. I should have.

It is this continuous care that I find tiring. I just want things to be over. I also know they are not going to be over just like that. Not sure how to deal here. There’s this HALT word I am not even sticking to. Hungry, angry, well, sort of, lonely and tired. I’d better get something to eat and go to bed. Nothing to be resolved here today. Let’s see what tomorrow brings.

Happy that I quit? Don’t know. No glass, well, no tray of alcohol is going to improve any of this. But I wish it would and I wish I would not be in trouble because of that. There are people here that come back from stepping of the sober path. I am pretty sure I would not. It would take years and I don’t have years. Maybe I just wish something would improve this? I wish it never happened. It is dark. I miss my mom. It is such a funny concept where there are mothers and then they die. And funny how I used to be ok with that. Can’t comprehend either of them.

It feels like I have taken off to another age in my life cycle. My grandfather has left our house, there is a lot of fighting and shouting going on. I sleep through mostly but when I wake up my brother lies awake and cries silently. My grandfather has a brain tumor, that’s why he was behaving weird. He is partially paralysed but kills himself by not eating and repeatedly, continuously drawing out his infusions. Mom is very sad. My parents fight, money is in short supply, my mother wants to leave, my father laughs at her, my brother cries in secret, my father only works. My mother doesn’t leave, she gets cancer. And the sun and the moon continue their ways.

Sleep would be a good idea.