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Tez-I have more weird questions
March 7, 2007
10:51 pm
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bevdee
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Tez

Again -thanks for your encouragement. Here is what I have been thinking about.

First You say - "My difficulty is that if I see something very significant, I have to ask myself the deep question: "Do I see this ... as significant because it is pointing to something inside myself that is important to and for me or am I genuinely seeing BevDee's psyche and making this value judgment on the basis of what I think is important for her alone or both?" So, if I am wrong it could well be the foremost i.e. my self-centeredness that gives your particular words significance rather than just a misunderstanding on my part."

So- I think this means you are human. Everyone zones in on something, everyone has different "takes" on everything. It's pretty difficult to encompass everything, isn't it?

What I was thinking about today after my appt was cancelled was this. I still can't answer your questions from March 6- I am still circling…But what I have been able to think of is this - the contact or no contact I have with casino man.

First of all I will tell you that while I am a fairly analytical person, and am pretty good at math, I have always had trouble with long division. I get the right answer, but my teachers were never able to teach me the preferred way of getting it. The conventional way. Sometimes my thinking is very linear and sometimes it is just circuitous. Also, I am very artistic with color and crafts and decorating and stuff, but I can't draw. I can't even draw a straight line. I can eyeball the dead center of a wall or any surface, but I slant. I don't know what this means. I would never try to draw a picture because I could not reproduce the picture (of the apple, the tree, or whatever they told us to draw) perfectly. I would not try.

Yesterday I cried because of some realizations, and I had to back off the thoughts. This afternoon, I was trying to do some focusing, so I was thinking about the Casinoman's instant messaging, emails and the voicemails. How I feel when I see his name pop up. I get this hot cold feeling in my chest when I see his name. Sometimes, when I hear the ding, my heart skips a beat. Seriously. I thought it was looove before. He and I had so much in common, same birthdate - different year, same Native American tribal heritage, born in the same state, both moving around, fleeing from our dysfunctional families, and living in two of the same cities at the same time, unaware of each other. I told myself that our lives ran on parallel tracks that converged when we met. Huh.

This heart fluttering? I know it's adrenaline. I recognise it as anger now, but I had never associated it with fear before. I am still circuitously trying to grab hold of that.

When he contacts me, I feel satisfaction. There's a little whisper in my head- Ah C-man you still think of me. You still want me. You still need me. Good. Suffer now. Feel what I feel. (I feel compelled to say that I don't just sit and think about this stuff all the time. I did a very creditable job of pushing these thoughts back. Just in case you think I'm totally obsessing. It makes it worse that he contacts me.)

Sometimes I respond to him and flirt with him, sometimes I am mean to him, flippant, and sometimes I ignore him. I also feel this way with my mother. When my feelings have been ravaged by my jealousy of my sister and my mother sends me one of her idiotic messages, I feel a similar satisfaction even though most times I do not respond.

Tez. I know this is what you have been getting at. My mother and reunification. And it still creeps me out. I have backed away from it since I started reading your posts last summer. I suppose this is what I have been resisting- all my life. I told you once that I resist the idea that I have a disease- diabetes. Well, I have had this resistance regarding everything about myself that is not what I consider perfect. Denial. I have never been able to talk to anyone about this because I feel that I should "be over" it by now. I feel that I should never have let myself feel the way I do about him. It's funny, I can list all the reasons I liked him, but I can still make that last statement. I am a headcase.

When he messages me and my heart flutters, other places do too. I find myself aroused just at seeing his little message box pop up on my screen. (now this does not happen when I talk to my mom!!) If I am "weak" and talk back to him, I regret it, because I will have to take matters into my own hands and I hate it because I think of him while I do that. And it does not help. It quenches nothing. I have tried to "control" this and I can't. I know this is a signpost!!

The difference between him and my mother is that he knows me very well and she just doesn't. There was more to our relationship than sex. There was a lot of communication and sharing between us until I felt betrayed. In order to convince myself he was worthy of my contempt, I have had to construct this wall around my emotions. But this wall is constructed from fear, anger and denial, I believe. I mortared all this into my wall - my "truths" about him- he's a loser, he's a perv, he used me for sex, he gambles too much. he's a commitment phobe, he uses his kids as his own wall. He is scared of me. That was a big one, I really focused on HIS fear. I had to because I could not begin to face my own. What I would love to have in this wall is the "truth" that he led me on and used me, but if I am to be honest, I can't say that that is entirely true. I just wanted it to be, so I could continue to hate him. And place all blame or responsibility with his shortcomings. That has nagged at me, and prevented me from hating him entirely.

When I have those dreams- when he contacts me via our subconscious minds? Man, that really makes me mad - and all I can do is try to think real hard and tell him to knock it off. I believe he hears me. And I suspect he laughs. 🙂

What is just wrenching me now is that I am realizing that in order to move forward I am going to have to tear down the wall I constructed to live with what I perceived he did to me. I don't want to tear any more of it down, because it is going to hurt. It is totally fuckin with my head, and today I thought this must be cognitive dissonance.

When I tear this C-man wall down, I will still have further to go- I have to do more in regards to my mother. Ish. How trite- to be in therapy because of my mother.

When I was 22, I realized that my mother was not always right. She is a liar, and I felt I had nothing to go on, because I did not trust my own judgement. When I first came to the realisation that my religious background was a sham, I had this same shaky feeling. I know I am going to find my way, but I really feel this need to grab ahold of something. Tez? Do you know what I mean by this? I think of guys that go to prison and "get religion". To me, that demonstrates the need to "get ahold" of something. Or the way I have gone from one relationship to another- trying to get a grasp on anything but myself. I said to you months ago that I felt like I was free falling. I still feel like that, and I tell myself to hold on to my certainty, but I don't have very much of that. See? Circuitous thinking.

Now. I need to go distract myself for a few minutes - I'm going to fold laundry.

Thanks for listening and thanks for responding.

March 9, 2007
6:51 pm
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bevdee

Thanks for your post. What follows are my views - not necessarily the established views of any profession.

So with that caveat, please feel free to disagree with, reject, abandon etc anything you like.

Please keep also in mind that my intended meaning may not be the meaning you receive. Both my limited ability to express what I 'see' in words and your interpretations of these words may cause some communication difficulties.

In your post of 07-Mar-07, you emphasized several big differences between your relationship with your mother and that with casinoman. This leads me to believe that you may possibly have misunderstood me regarding the 'template'.

In what follows, I intend to use the word 'image' in the broadest sense possible. That is why I enclose the word in single quotes. In the sense that I use the word, I want to include all sensory, mental, psychological, cognitive and emotional aspects.

Your 'image' of your mother stored today for recall is, I believe, very different to that 'image' stored when you were a child(and infant).

As you know, the brain has several very different memory systems. It associates (and also dissassociates) contextual memories from emotional memories. It also associates (and dissassociates) contextual memories with other contextual memories.

Your 'template image' of your mother/father acquired as a child is almost certainly very different from your most recent and continuously updated adult 'image' of your mother/father.

It is my belief that during infancy and childhood, many of us underwent traumatic emotional experiences caused by real or imagined 'abandonment'. I further believe that the other (non-emotional but assosiated) memory 'images' acquired during these traumas are now unavailable for conscious recall as adults.

Put oversimplisticly, what I believe is that many of us humans have two images of our parents - the preset, adult, continuously updated 'image' and an early infant acquired 'image' that was fixated and dissassociated from the rest of memory by the 'threat of abandonment' trauma.

Along comes Casinoman. He looks, sounds, tastes, smells, and behaves nothing like your adult 'image' of either your mother or your father. Yet you have a powerful desire to 'unify' with him, at least sexually, and under certain 'changed conditions' in other ways as well.

When you were on your knees with Casinoman in your mouth, since I assume neither you nor he was stimulating your clitoris, can you 'see' what gave you the intense feeling of pleasure that you had then?

Why I am asking this question is because identifying the source of this pleasure will be a signpost on the way down pointing to another signpost, etc.

What I believe is that certain sexual partners do project an 'image' that matches, not our present day image, but the fixated one formed traumaticly in childhood.

Once this template 'image' match occurs, it is my contention that the full emotional cravings for reunification with our parents felt in childhood re-emerges without any contextual memory recall of that infant trauma to alert us to why we feel so driven towards these template matching people. Once that infant feeling of reunification is re-felt during the intimacy of sex, I maintain that overwhelming ecstacy results. IMHO it is the same ecstacy felt when as a child(infant) we were reunited bodily with our mothers and possibly fathers. Touch is critical as infants - not a luxury.

Incidentally, I think the impact of mothers upon this early childhood template formation is far greater because of the breast feeding intimacies of infant/mother and subsequent child/mother body contact. Of course very loving caregiving fathers also make a contribution, I believe.

Please don't conclude that I am advising reunification (in any sense)with your present day mother as a solution to your emotional pain. I'm not. I see your relationship with your mother today as a totally different challenge - though not necessarily totally unrelated.

What I have found to have been of great value to me has been to 'see' as opposed to knowing or thinking, from where this craving and addiction for a person is being driven.

I was hoping that you might find what I did in gaining this insight - this 'seeing' - helpful in finding a solution to satisfying this sexual craving for casinoman without having to resort to going into a painful relationship of any kind with him.

I do not think that Casinoman's unwillingness to take you home to meet his sons is the major stumbling block for you at all. I think that this unwillingness of his is merely one of many stimuli for triggering off intense emotional pain in you were you to go into a relationship with him.

Just as casinoman has the right 'image' to put you in ecstactic orgasmic states, that same 'image' can and will trigger off terrible feelings of abandonment in you.

Where I very nearly went bonkers was in circular thinking based upon looking for a way out of the pain yet still maintaining the source of my ecstacy. How could I get Ms. Stinky to commit? What could I do to get her to love me? Hmmm!!

Ms. Stinky once gave me a one clue to just one part of my problem. It took me many more years and many more clues before the penny dropped and the whole picture emerged! This one clue was when she said to me: "You only want me because you cannot have me! When I wanted you, you did not want me! Now I don't want you!" Did that hurt me to the quick!

Yet she was just as locked into the terrible push-pull game as I was. The big difference was that her power over me grew as mine over her diminished. My self-esteem plummeted as hers soared. It was not about love for either of us. It was all about power over our respective mother/father template 'images' that we both unconciously perceived in the other.

Even though I am trying not to play Ms.Stinky's game with Ms. Sneaky now, I have to admit that there is a perverse pleasure in seeing my power over Ms. Sneaky rise as her's diminishes over me. I am very conscious not to play this game. But the very act of not 'playing the game' only heightens Ms. Sneaky's craving for what she sees in me. What she sees in me is the 'image' that matches her parental fixated 'image'. It has nothing to do with either her present day memories of her actual parents or love. Both of her parents are now dead.

BevDee, it is very hard to put into words that convey what I 'see'. Only one in a great many seem to grasp what I'm on about. A great many know at an intellectual level a way of knowing very different to that of using the 'third' eye. These people who do really understand, are usually those who have trod the path and looked within using their 'mind's eye' to 'see' their own mind in the action of desperately wanting to possess this other 'template' bearer. This is very different to thinking about the issue.

Whilst he may not be projecting a perfect template 'image' match, why I think Casinoman is so important for you is because he triggers off huge 'signposts' that point to deep core beliefs that once exposed to the searchlight of consciousness will be seen to be ludicrous.

As an example, one such belief harboured by me until I was in my mid forties was that any woman who allowed me to insert my penis in her must truly love me. I never even knew that I held this belief!!!!! Yet I did! This was the basis for my belief that Ms. Stinky truly loved me! Once that hidden belief was exposed to my consciousness, I saw how ludicrous that it was! Somehow this exposee erased a big chunk of power that this false belief held over my unconscious processes. This was only one step on the climb down into that deep dark, pit of my unconscious. I'm still on that journey - until the day I die, I guess.

Phew! Another chapter.

March 10, 2007
9:04 pm
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Tez,

Thanks for your chapters! I am only popping in to let you know that I read your post and that I'm thinking over everything you presented to me.

I am thinking that this may be true of me, also because of low self-esteem.

"one such belief harboured by me until I was in my mid forties was that any woman who allowed me to insert my penis in her must truly love me. I never even knew that I held this belief!!!!!" Well not exactly this!! But the sex act- equating it with love. In my case, good, (attentive to me) sex.

I'm thinking about all of it, and taking my time. And, as always I love seeing all your posts everywhere. You are kind of a rogue.

Love ya

March 12, 2007
7:56 pm
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Hey Tez

"What I believe is that certain sexual partners do project an 'image' that matches, not our present day image, but the fixated one formed traumaticly in childhood." and

"full emotional cravings for reunification with our parents felt in childhood re-emerges without any contextual memory recall of that infant trauma to alert us to why we feel so driven towards these template matching people. Once that infant feeling of reunification is re-felt during the intimacy of sex, I maintain..."

I don't know if this is pertinent or not - but as I have said before, I was an unplanned pregnancy when she was 17, and my mom has told me over and over that she did not want me. My daddy told me years later that he was always afraid to leave me alone with her.

Several years ago, when I was in therapy, my mother mailed a voice cassette to my sister. Sissy copied it and mailed it to me- telling me my therapist needed to hear it. Listening to the tape was horrible and even my therapist told me that she could not listen to it all in one sitting. Basically my mother was telling my sister why she loved her. Why she had let my sister sleep in the bed with her all night until she was 13. (My sister had recently found out my mom was doing this with her daughter, who was 10, and forbade it) It was all disturbing, but the most disturbing part to me was my mother's explanation of why my sister was so much more loveable to her than I was. She said. "You were such a sweet snuggly baby, and *Bevdee* was not."

She really did not want me. She found reasons not to hold me- she has told me herself that I never liked to be held. I don't know if I believe this now- I have many photos of my daddy holding me, and there are none of her holding me after I was an infant. Those are obviously posed, contrived.

OK. This question -

"When you were on your knees with Casinoman in your mouth, since I assume neither you nor he was stimulating your clitoris, can you 'see' what gave you the intense feeling of pleasure that you had then?" No, I can't see anything the way I suspect you are suggesting. This may come in time. What I can say is that true, there was no clitoral stimulation, but I loved the evidence that I was satisfying him. And I suppose I felt acceptance. When he vocally indicates his approval, I became more aroused.

Maybe part of my fixation with Casinoman was that when we were together, I finally felt accepted, and I got touch I had been deprived of as an infant? I have been thinking a lot about touch, and I have always considered it a luxury. Like I said, I'm not a cuddler.

There's more to my post about my mother than I will acknowledge, I believe. I am thinking about things other than the Casinoman, other thoughts are nagging at me again, and I can't see shit, Tez. I am wondering if this is what you meant by "the mind wants to pull us back up to shallower answers all the time. It tires of the game. It tries to distract us. It trys to protect itself by keeping from us that which it doesn't want us to consciously know." Because since your last post, I have been kind of veering away from your questions. I will approach them gingerly.

But- I wanted to post to you and tell you hi- and ask you how YOU doin?

March 13, 2007
6:21 pm
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"You are kind of a rogue."

Hehehe. I've been called a "loose cannon" many times. If I am then so be it.

Are the feelings of others important to me? Yes but not unconditionally.

I think that more important than stimulating 'bad feelings' in others is exposing the and examining the beliefs that underpin the thoughts that evoke those bad feelings.

Prevent a man from trying to catch an oversized fish and a man will go hungry for a day. Standing idly by when he is going to lose his fishing rod through false beliefs and over confidence, makes me complicit in his starving to death.

March 13, 2007
7:43 pm
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Hey Tez

I didn't mean that I think rogue is a bad thing.

March 13, 2007
8:36 pm
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BevDee.

You quoted your mom as saying on the tape to your sister:

"You were such a sweet snuggly baby, and *Bevdee* was not."

This speaks volumes!!!!

For one reason or another, strong mother-infant bonding sometimes fails to occur from day one. This is bonding a two way interaction wherein the behavior of both mother and infant play a role. (Bowlby et. al.)

Of course the mother supposedly has both maternal 'instincts' and developed cognitive powers that should ensure her part in this interaction is appropriate, whereas the infant is only survival instinct driven(this is debatable but largely true in my view).

However for whatever reasons, your mother's statement appears to me to be a strong indication that this strong bonding did not take place.

Most if not all infants crave touch. If they don't then it would be highly likely that the mother's behavior is punitive towards the child and not supportive.

The Result of poor bonding between mother and infant is insecure attachment styles(i.e. anxious ambivalent & anxious avoidant attatchment styles - Ainsworth et. al.)

The flow-on effect of 'insecure attachment as an infant' into adulthood is quite dramatic. My oversimplified concept of a 'template' is my best attempt to explain addictions to or just strong preferences for sexual relationships with people who we know are toxic for us. Where we fall along the spectral line between absolute addiction to and a preference for such people is a complex function of the degree of template matching.

You also wrote:

"I have many photos of my daddy holding me, and there are none of her holding me after I was an infant."

This is why I maintain that the template is not all about the mother only - for good or bad, dad features as well. I think that the template is a resultant 'image' formed by your infant interactions with both of your parents. Obviously fatherless infants would be subject to maternal and substitute-mother influences primarily.

Can you see how understanding our own individual - and probably unique - template is so important? It freed me from entering into toxic relationships. It also freed me from the restlessly yearning for a 'template' partner when in a relationship with a perfectly good 'non-template' partner that entails a less than a great sex life.

Hollywood perpetuates the myth that there is a Mr/Ms. Right out there with whom stars appear before our eyes, vision blurs, 'everything' gets 'wet' in an instant and butterflies fly out of our arses everytime we have sex with them because it is 'true love' that we have 'found'.

In my experience the 'butterflies and stars are only emerging' during sex with template matches. And that's fine if our template is functional; that is, we have bonded perfectly with both of our parents, formed secure infant attachment style and then, as children, were reared ideally. My template 'image' certainly isn't functional, and it is set in concrete now!

You also wrote:

"I loved the evidence that I was satisfying him. And I suppose I felt acceptance. When he vocally indicates his approval, I became more aroused."

Yes, yes, yes ... this is the exact answer that I expected.

The next question is: "Can you 'see' exactly why giving CasinoMan so much pleasure sexually arouses you?"

Can you see why this question is now at a lower level than the previous one? It is leading down into your psyche to what is driving you sexually and otherwise.

And you said:

"Like I said, I'm not a cuddler."

Neither was the monkey in the now famous but hugely unethical baby monkey artificial rearing experiment. Baby monkeys were deprived of touch from any mother both real or from fur lined dummies. These monkeys grew up totally dysfunctional, unable to form bonds with other monkeys, or rear babies themselves in a functional manner. They were totally anti-social. I'm not suggesting you are at this extreme, you got some touch - but you can see the effects of such lack of touch (bonding). How it translates into adult behavior is far more complex in humans obviously.

And you wrote:

"There's more to my post about my mother than I will acknowledge, I believe. I am thinking about things other than the Casinoman, other thoughts are nagging at me again, and I can't see shit, Tez. I am wondering if this is what you meant by "the mind wants to pull us back up to shallower answers all the time. It tires of the game. It tries to distract us. It trys to protect itself by keeping from us that which it doesn't want us to consciously know."

That's exactly what I meant. When you said: "I can't see shit," it could well be that your mind is drawing the curtain on the unconscious to protect your conscious self from seeing what's down there and setting off an emotional 'time bomb'. I don't want that on my conscience.

And you wrote:

"Because since your last post, I have been kind of veering away from your questions. I will approach them gingerly."

Yes and I totally understand this - don't push yourself. Let the mind churn over these things for as long as it takes for it to want to approach these issues again and 'draw back the curtain' just a little bit.

This is why I was(am) very concerned about my lack of facial visual feedback. I have no idea other than what you are telling me in your posts, when I push buttons too much, too often, or too hard.

I don't mind how long you take or how far back this thread drifts into the thread list. I'm always floating around and will see it surface when you are ready to return to an issue.

"But- I wanted to post to you and tell you hi- and ask you how YOU doin?"

Well ... when the pupil is ready the master will appear. I now have a new master in the form of a management committee populated by good intentioned but illinformed people with the exception of the president.

The treasurer is desperate to hand over the treasurer's position to someone who is capable of handling the job.

Since I have been the treasurer of another dance club, have been in business three separate times in my life, and am presently handling my company accounts with the help of MYOB an Aussie accounting software package of high professional standing, I will have little trouble with this task. However, the outgoing treasurer, appears to me to have little knowledge of either the Australian Tax Office requirements, or the Associations Incorporation Act and its regulations. I do. Now I find her hellbent on making me conform to what I consider illegal and highly suspect accounting procedures. I am not in the job yet and have indicated to her that I might not be the appropriate person to do the job; not good enough for her. She wants me to both do the job AND do it her way. I suspect that she fears me showing her up by either telling the truth to the President why I withdraw my offer to become the treasurer or by producing excellent treasurer's reports at monthly meetings therein highlighting by her previous omissions and breaches of the law.

On the phone this morning she tried to push the issue too hard and I gave forth with a broadside of the inconvenient truth. Instead of backing off she came on stronger with vague statements of the top of her head that only further reinforced my belief in her lack of accounting and legislative knowledge. I called a spade a spade, a silver spoon a silver spoon and a bulldozer a bulldozer. She did not like it when I inferred that she was trying to "bulldoze" me into performing illegal acts - and I ain't talking about sodomy here even though she was trying to shove her 'crap' up my fundamental orifice.

She rang the president who rang me. He's a good guy and has set up a meeting of the three of us to sort out this 'communication' problem. My difficult challenge is suffering self-willed, self-centered, yet apparently well intentioned' 'fools' gladly.

I'm far from perfect BevDee. I hope I never give anyone here the impression that I think I am. I'm a student of life and always will be. If I can help fellow students in any way, I will. But I am so far from being a teacher, as was the Buddha and other great masters, that it isn't even funny. I guess this is very easy to see from many of my posts.

March 14, 2007
3:08 am
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Tez

Thanks for your post.

I'm sorry to hear about difficulties with your recent challenge. It's always tricky when you start looking over account books, isn't it? You never know what you might find.

Since I last posted to you, I have had a couple of things happen. In posting to someone else, I realized and articulated some of what has been going on with me since Xmas.

Grieving. Grieving the loss of (infantile?) hope. Of belief. The belief wrapped around my mother, sister and worthiness. Letting go of this belief? Over the last 20 some odd years, I had acknowledged the necessity for it intellectually, but I had never been able to do it.

It seems that until I was able to begin to let go of this belief, I wasn't able to bring forth the other painful memories to examine them.

I haven't been spending each day obsessing about the casino man. The pain I felt when I thought of him has gradually lessened over the past few months- more and more as time passes. I have thought (obsessed) about him less, except for the dreams.

Now - a few days ago, I had a dream. Since I have had this dream, I have felt - I don't know how to explain it. Not indifferent, but accepting?

Here goes- I was at his house, waiting for him to come out of his bedroom. Tired of waiting, I walked back and saw him making love to an Hispanic woman with blurry features. He looked up at me and said, "oh no!". I turned and left. That's all I remember of the dream, other than sharp details about small things - the room, a pc in the corner of the room.

He told me when we met that his son's mother is Hispanic and they were together from the time they were 15. After the birth of their first son, she started to exhibit signs of paranoid schizophrenia, the same as her older brother. After the birth of the second son, she was hospitalized for her mental illness. She tried to escape from the behavioral health institution - while crossing the highway, was struck by a car and killed. They were together for 18 years, and her death left him with an infant son and a 4 year old. He talked about her alot, always saying it didn't matter, and it was a relief to him that she is gone.

But- I don't think he is over his dead wife, and he is either fucking a ghost every time he has sex, or trying to exorcise her from his memory (with blonde blue-eyed women).

Loving a crazy person? This is the dovetailing neuroses you mentioned earlier.

Also, above where I said "The belief wrapped around my mother, sister and worthiness."
This is all woven together, IMO.

This leaves me wondering if this is similar to your Stinkyboot dream, or if it is a way my mind has of distracting me from going deeper.

Anyway, I thought I would share that with you - those are my conclusions at this point, but if you have any thoughts, as always - I welcome hearing them.

Thanks for being here.

Bevdee

March 14, 2007
7:18 pm
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bevdee

On 14-Mar-07 you said:

"This leaves me wondering if this is similar to your Stinkyboot dream, or if it is a way my mind has of distracting me from going deeper."

No, not really similar at all.

I don't pretend to know the meaning of dreams. Further, I believe that the only person that does know is the dreamer themselves. To get to the meaning requires, you guessed it, opening the veil across the conscious/unconscious divide and peering into your unconscious.

Dreams,IMHO, can have one or more actors, script writers, producers and directors. But the dream is all about you in relation to what you perceive as not you in regard to matters highly important to you. Dreams may be wish fulfilling. Dreams might be telepathic communications between you and one or more actors in real life using the dream as the 'meeting grounds'. Dreams might be conflict resolving exercises. All, some or none of these scenarios may be true. There are many theories in this regard.

I believe my Ms. Stinky dreams were telepathic communications based. It was my mind coming to terms with the push-pull game Ms. Stinky and I were playing. It was my disconnecting the 'umbilical chord' between my 'inner little boy' and his 're-found' mother yet again. It was me telling Ms. Stinky that our game was over. In real life the game did finish after the final 'fuck off' dream and I never 'coincidentally' ran across her again like I did before that. In dreams I believe that I had been telepathically arranging meetings prior to that final dream.

I don't know what your dream means. It could be that you eves dropped on him when he was actually shagging his dead wife in his dream.

Or it could mean that your mind is trying to resolve an unconscious template related issue that you still have with him.

I know and understand very well that Casinoman is not a big day to day issue in your life. But I also understand that he is by far the best sexual partner that you've had in your whole life. That gives him great value as a means of parting that curtain across the conscious/unconscious interface in your mind. That's assuming you want to go there! It can be a very painful journey.

March 14, 2007
7:51 pm
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Tez

Good to hear from you. Wow. "I don't know what your dream means. It could be that you eves dropped on him when he was actually shagging his dead wife in his dream."

I didn't think of this!!

"Dreams might be telepathic communications between you and one or more actors in real life using the dream as the 'meeting grounds'." I was hoping it might be this-"Dreams might be conflict resolving exercises."

I guess it remains to be seen. The odd thing to me was that I felt calm, not upset as I usually am after waking from a dream about him.

"That gives him great value as a means of parting that curtain across the conscious/unconscious interface in your mind. That's assuming you want to go there! It can be a very painful journey." I do- I'm nothing if not tenacious!

Talk to you later--

March 15, 2007
8:29 pm
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BevDee.

Thanks for your post. I can see that you need to get on with your studies, your work and so many other things. There ain't enough time in the day - is there!

You said:

"The odd thing to me was that I felt calm, not upset as I usually am after waking from a dream about him."

This would appear to indicate that your dream was problem resolving rather than a problem generating alarm condition demanding further attention from you.

If you had been 'snooping' to catch Casinoman out in your dreams, you would have awoken quite angry and disturbed. Since you didn't, it seems to me that this was not the case that you were still pursuing contact with him for further 'hanky panky' either in your dreams or when awake.

If in your dream you saw that your mother/father template image still cared about you - as evidenced by the "Oh No!" response from Casinoman in your dream on being 'sprung' - then this would have had a reassuring effect upon your psyche.

Couple this with the reassurance that the valid reason for Casinoman not committing to you is that he is still in love with his dead wife, and you have a very plausible explanation for your calm state of mind upon awakening.

This is pure speculation on my part - only you know for sure. Making that knowledge conscious is your challenge.

One way to find out is to repeat what you want to know about your dream states over and over as you go to sleep. In addition at the same time, instruct yourself to remember the answer to your request.

It is my belief from observing myself that in the state between being asleep and fully awake, I deliberately choose to forget my dreams by instructing myself saying: "Oh I was only dreaming - discard any memory of such worthless nonsense." At other times as I awake, I observe myself thinking:"That dream's important - don't forget that it."

It is worth remembering that every day at every instant our psyche is choosing to either give importance to or disregard what comes into our psyche from our sense organs including input from our own imagination. We choose to ignore and thus discard the vast majority of raw data from these sources.

We 'filter out' a great deal. Why should our response to our memories of our dreams be any different from the our response to 'deemed irrelevant' experiences when we are awake; especially when we pass semi-conscious judgments upon the 'worthlessness' of our dreams during our 'wakening up' state as most of us seem to do, myself included.

March 17, 2007
1:40 am
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Tez

You asked me last week what my goals for therapy were? (I may think of more by next Tuesday)

I want to talk about the molestation and how it affected me. I want to understand, and lose my fear.

Achieve a better understanding of my family, certain illnesses and personalities.

I want to change by not judging myself. I want to learn ways to accept myself.

I would like to hook up with some diabetes support groups, and talk to other diabetics about the disease and the effects it has on them emotionally.

I need to talk about pre- menopause, femininity. (I found out the therapist is a woman and I am pleased about that)

I want to find the courage to join some (physical) support groups. I don't interact with people much, unless it is work related, and while I enjoy being alone, I don't want to become too reclusive. I have become more introverted after many of the events of the last 18 months. (I almost didn't post this last because I might chicken out, or it might take too long and I will be embarrassed)

I want to talk about all these things with someone in person, because I have never. I don't mean that I intend to yammer away about my problems with everyone, but I believe that when I am comfortable enough to express my emotions honestly, face-to-face with a therapist, it will be healing for me.

Now!! I have something curious to tell you. Last night before I fell asleep, I concentrated on my breathing and I thought, "I want to remember as much of my dreaming as possible" So of course, I slept like a rock. But, when the alarm went off this morning and I hit the snooze and rolled back over, I had this image of my pc, and the words shock probation on the screen.

Let me explain- and I will try to be brief. My ex-roommate/current next door neighbor's husband has been in county jail for 4½ months. He was convicted 6-2005, and stayed out on 2 appeals until the first week of November 2006. Since Nov., I have been surprised that he has not been transferred to a prison population, but I had decided not to obsess about it anymore. She and I have agreed not to discuss it often. But a week ago Monday, she told me that she had filed for something called shock probation, and when it was approved he would be out soon. Then last Friday, she called me over to tell me that he would be getting out Monday because another appeal she had filed since he has been incarcerated would be heard and decided the following Monday. She told me she was driving to the state capitol Sunday evening to be there for the hearing and to bring him home. I thanked her for the 3-day warning.

I talked to Niceman about it Saturday, and he was appropriately horrified and had several unmentionable suggestions. He called me Sunday to see if I was still worrying about it, and I told him it was still on my mind. He said "*Bevdee*, I really think they are wasting time and money with all this legal shit, and I really think you are wasting too much mental energy worrying about this. Why don't you just wait and see what really happens before you go completely berserk? The state of Texas is probably real tired of f**kin with him" (I suppose it's easy to see that he knows me pretty well) I decided he was right.

But Saturday night, when I got home from work, I saw her pulling in her driveway and waved. She told me she changed her plans and made a quick trip to visit him. I didn't say much- and!! the sex offender did not come home Monday. Tonight, I went over there to take her dad's mail to her, and she was on the phone screaming at him. He called her collect to rake her over the coals, and demand that she take her son home (he's visiting for his B-day, he lives with his daddy) and she was hollering back at him. When she saw me standing in the open doorway, she ended the call and started ranting to me about the way he treats her. She said, "he has had some bad news and expects me to drop everything and drive 6 hours to go see him for 15 minutes, and I can't even afford the gas after all the money I have paid out for him"

Bad news for him?- I think this was the meaning of the dream pc screen I saw on waking this morning. Reassurance for me. I thought about this all day- I try real hard not to obsess about this guy and the way he triggered me, but I believe I have some issues to work through before I can achieve any peace of mind about him.

So- I am off to bed, and I am going to try this again. I've placed a pen and pad on my night table. Maybe next time I will *see* deeper.

I said "Let me explain- and I will try to be brief." Well… I tried. 🙂

Thanks for listening.

March 17, 2007
6:41 pm
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Hi Bevdee.

Best of luck 'seeing' deeper. The Buddhists call this vipassna, insight meditation.

Here's a blurb from a local Group of people who offer their services free of charge except by donation. They run a 10 day live in course teaching people how to 'see' themselves, their internal and their external world in a way that is free from their past conditioning. They teach insight meditation techniques.

I'm thinking about having a look into it. What they mean by mental purification is not what it Christians call living in a 'state of grace'. It is not about not 'sinning'. It is about 'seeing' at a deep level our past mental conditioning that is problematic for us now and letting go of it. It is about 'seeing' at depth the true nature of the world around us and how impermanent it really is. It is about losing our ignorance. It is about letting go of our obsessions, whether they be 'either grasping at or trying to get away from' anything. That's my understanding of the terms mental purification.

Here's what they say.

__________________________________

"What Vipassana is not:

It is not a rite or ritual based on blind faith.

It is neither an intellectual nor a philosophical entertainment.

It is not a rest cure, a holiday, or an opportunity for socializing.

It is not an escape from the trials and tribulations of everyday life.

What Vipassana is:

It is a technique that will eradicate suffering.

It is a method of mental purification which allows one to face life's tensions and problems in a calm, balanced way

It is an art of living that one can use to make positive contributions to society.

Vipassana meditation aims at the highest spiritual goals of total liberation and full enlightenment; its purpose is never simply to cure physical disease. However, as a by-product of mental purification, many psychosomatic diseases are eradicated. In fact, Vipassana eliminates the three causes of all unhappiness: craving, aversion and ignorance. With continued practice, the meditation releases the tensions developed in everyday life, opening the knots tied by the old habit of reacting in an unbalanced way to pleasant and unpleasant situations.

Although Vipassana was developed as a technique by the Buddha, its practice is not limited to Buddhists. There is absolutely no question of conversion. All human beings share the same fundamental problems, and a technique which can eradicate these problems will have a universal application. People from many religious denominations have experienced the benefits of Vipassana meditation, and have found no conflict with their profession of faith.

_________________________________

March 21, 2007
6:13 pm
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Tez

I wanted to give you my update. I made it to the therapist- I did not chicken out.

I spent an hour signing my name everywhere and filling out forms. The forms were fairly standard - personal hx and family hx.

I had a curious realisation though. I "caught" myself doing something! I had no trouble filling out the parts about myself. Well, that is not entirely honest! I had a moment's hesitation- over checking the boxes by rape and the molestation. I started to minimise that, as I always have in the past. I forced myself to be honest. I found myself peeking around the room, to see if anyone was watching me. I believe I do this automatically, but yesterday was the first time I actually noticed myself doing it. I caught myself in the act and recognized a behaviour. Oh- and nobody was watching- of course!!

I had alot more trouble with the family hx questions. I started to only check mother and sister. Because I know when I am honest about the long line of suicide and mental illness in the family- then I am scrutinized for depression and suicidal tendencies. It has happened before, this scrutiny. And I really don't want to be categorized!! (I so like to think I am unique!!) I went ahead and wrote in all the suicides and addictions of everyone in the family, and I was fighting tears. In the waiting room. This denial is a tough wall, and it's kind of an old wall. It took many years and lots of reinforcement to get it where it is today.

My therapist is nice. She's a tiny little dark native american woman, and she is very soft spoken.

She asked me about marriage and said "you've never made the commitment?"

On learning my parents were 370 miles away, asked me if I had any support - family or community. I explained that maintaining distance from my folks was healthier for me. When I assured her I have somefamily nearby, she looked at me and asked, "How often do you see them?" Ha! Not very often. So- I think she is pretty shrewd. But, so am I- she didn't say it, but I know she was trying to assess how much I had isolated myself.

She asked questions about my nuclear family. When I tried to describe the family dynamics, I started that smiling! My therapist 10 years ago pointed this out to me- that I smiled when recounting the most ghastly accounts of rape and abuse. I told her about my sister's addictions and had to reach for the tissue. She asked me if I resented my sister and, already crying, I started howling. I told her. "I fucking hate her and I love her so much it hurts." She nodded and said "You are in a lot of conflict"

She didn't go into the physical or sexual abuse or the molestation. She didn't even ask about it. I'm glad she didn't during the very first visit. I believe that would have been too intense. She did tell me that from the anxiety I described and the history of abuse before Luc, she would diagnose me PTSD. She seemed to accept my reasons for not wanting meds prescribed.

She sure took a lot of notes! She wrote down almost everything I told her. And told me she was glad that I had some outside activities and also commended me on my school- my contingency plan.

We have set up visits every 2-3 weeks.

How have you been?

March 21, 2007
8:30 pm
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Hi BevDee.

Congrats for starting in therapy.

You said:

" ... over checking the boxes by rape and the molestation. I started to minimise that, as I always have in the past."

My understanding of the reason for this desire to minimise your past trauma is your not wanting to look like a "cry baby" in the eyes of the therapist - is this right?

You said:

"My therapist 10 years ago pointed this out to me- that I smiled when recounting the most ghastly accounts of rape and abuse."

Why do you think you smile when recounting your past traumatic experiences?

You said:

"She asked me if I resented my sister and, already crying, I started howling. I told her. "I fucking hate her and I love her so much it hurts." She nodded and said "You are in a lot of conflict" "

And you are in a lot of conflict(cognitive dissonance), I believe - much more than you as yet realize. That is IMHO partly what therapy is about - exposing all your conflicting beliefs, desires and aspirations to your conscious mind. Then with all the conflicting beliefs on the table, each can be examined and discarded or kept as appropriate. I doubt that any two beliefs that are causing conflict in you, will both be found to be both rational and valid by you when examined closely.

In therapy hopefully you will discover many 'cognitive triggers' - detonators for exploding into recall very painful emotional memories laid down during past traumas.

You wrote:

"I went ahead and wrote in all the suicides and addictions of everyone in the family, and I was fighting tears."

Do you know why you wanted to cry? For whom was it that you wanted to grieve? Was it for the little girl inside of you that feels so unloved? Was it for your family and their ancestors? For the whole human condition? Can you pin that source of your grief down?

You wrote:

"She didn't go into the physical or sexual abuse or the molestation. She didn't even ask about it."

She has first to build a relationship of trust between you and her. She has to learn when, where and how to take each step down into your psyche. She is building an image of your psyche in her head. Otherwise she might well have you running out of her premises worse off for having been there.

Hey, BevDee - I'm a little concerned that I might be intruding upon, interfering, meddling with the therapeutic process implemented by your therapist. It might be a good idea to tell her about your discussions on this thread. A copy of the whole thread from day one would make interesting 'background' reading for her. It might save some of the valuable therapy time that you have together for further work.

How am I going? Very well indeed! I attended a meeting of the alpha males and females controlling the club management committee in which I recently joined. I am to become the new treasurer if they pass my 'tests'. I was given the chair for an extended time. I took the group through a step by step exposition of the income tax laws in relation to the club. The outgoing treasurer, feeling very threatened by her past taxation law compliance 'inadequacies', became quite nasty. I handled it very well and by the end of my alloted time had them all in full agreement with the best course of action to take. They past my tests.

I haven't seen anything of Ms. Sneaky since her 'unrequited love song' phone call. She appears to be avoiding the dances that I frequent. I think she might be hurting a little because she got no response from me. I do feel a little sorry for her. But she has hurt sooooo many guys and I am the first, in more recent years at least that I know of, to hurt her. Perhaps it will serve her well in that she might think about the trail of wrecked relationships that she has left behind in recent years.

I still going for my morning walks. My business is going a little slow at the moment but that's a minor issue - I'm not dependent upon it for my livelihood.

Catch yuh later.

March 22, 2007
7:22 pm
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Hey Tez

Good to hear from you. Your post caused me to think some more…

"My understanding of the reason for this desire to minimise your past trauma is your not wanting to look like a "cry baby" in the eyes of the therapist - is this right?"

No, maybe partly - I would have told her- in private. Part of it is that the chart might be seen by others in the office. This is how closely I (think) I guard my privacy. I know it's stupid- and I know that whatever I tell her goes in notes on the chart and anyone in the office can and probably will see it. I know how offices work, the billers, the transcriptionists. It's a defense I throw up, and I let this paranoia run wild. A sorry little excuse to keep denying. It's this denial that it happened. If I deny it, I don't have to do the work.

Minimising it stems from the way the molestation was handled, I think. No one acknowledging that I was verbally, emotionally and physically abused by my mother. Remember my grinchy Xmas? It was never about me. I was taught to mimimise myself, and I chose adult relationships that perpetuated this.

Minimising the rapes and sexual torture with Luc was my own denial of the reality of what was happening. I disassociated from it. I had to do that disassociation, or I believe I would have lost my mind.

The reason for that smile? I imagine it's really a grimace, Tez. I know this stems from my mother's household. Her emphasis on appearances. Shoulders back, smile - everything is ok. No one is to know. The less said the better. My way of saying to the world. "I am strong and nothing is wrong" My attempt at a brave face. I think of a phrase - "If I didn’t laugh, I’d cry." and that song by Smoky Robinson - The Tears of a Clown.

You asked about this - ""I went ahead and wrote in all the suicides and addictions of everyone in the family, and I was fighting tears." "

And asked
Do you know why you wanted to cry? Because the physical act of writing it all out was admitting it was true. We don't do that. We speak of it in euphemisms, if at all.

For whom was it that you wanted to grieve? The whole fucked up situation.

Was it for the little girl inside of you that feels so unloved? Yes she is scared.

Was it for your family and their ancestors? Yes. For the family that battled their illness in shame,fear, and denial - from constraints placed on them by their society- family, community, religion.

Did you know that long ago mental illness was viewed by the Church as demonic possession? No wonder folks were scared to talk about it.

For the whole human condition? No, because as wrapped up as I am in my pain right now , I can't think in terms that broad or general right now. This being wrapped up in pain is the reason I could not finish Science Without Bounds last summer, and the reason I can't concentrate and finish the story I started to write. Sometimes I feel as if I can't see past my nose. This is demanding to be dealt with.

Can you pin that source of your grief down? It is for my family that was so terrified of mental illness. So terrified of being different and admitting that anyone, including myself, had a problem. It is for the children and their children and their children that, in their ignorance or denial, went untreated and perpetuated the illness and the cycle of denial in every generation. Because we are all so fucked up.

The grief is for me. I am scared. Some days when I am driving and thinking, I feel really good. Many other times, I have to fight against fear. I am able to combat it? Is that a good word? I am able to acknowledge what is setting off my fears and calm myself down, but some days it is more of an effort than others.

I feel as if there is a war going on in me. There is a dark brooding Bevdee. A fearful Bevdee that can function right where she is. This little life is ok. I, Bevdee, am able to get by and my tears and anger and rage can, for the most part be contained and if not, expressed in the confines of my car, driving, or in this house with the doors closed and only the dogs to witness me. I have a solitary job, I live in a remote area by the lake. I can control who I see and who I don't see - my family, my Niceman, it is up to me. I can slap on a face of "normalcy" and confidence or bravado when I come out of hiding. It's tempting to stay right where I am. I live in my head - there are several rooms in there, and some of these rooms are pleasant to visit, and some? Well sir, I just keep the doors closed to those rooms.

But there's a whisper - you need to get out of this rut. You've come a long way, but you know you need to go further. I am wanting to rush forward and get on with it, and I want to stay right where I am. I'm excited and I'm scared. I find myself making excuses. I know I am struggling with defending the beliefs that I was taught and embraced and with letting go of that which is toxic to me.

I had thought about getting all those posts together. But I thought I would ask her if she wants them - if she has the time. Mercifulgod, I "talk" as much as you do, Tez!! And I have other threads on support. I agree that it might save time. Now I have another confession. I was thinking today that it would just be so much easier if I could just hand (or mail) her the reams of printed posts and not sit and talk face to face. I think of these excuses, then laugh at my absurd self.

I'm glad to hear you are doing well. This!! "I haven't seen anything of Ms. Sneaky since her 'unrequited love song' phone call." Tez- this is going to make me giggle every time I think about it. I pictured this - from the phone ringing, the music coming from the receiver, and the dumbfounded look that I imagined on your face on first hearing the song!!. Ladykiller!!!

Talk to you later

March 22, 2007
9:59 pm
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BevDee.

Thanks for your post.

In it you wrote:

"I live in my head - there are several rooms in there, and some of these rooms are pleasant to visit, and some? Well sir, I just keep the doors closed to those rooms."

I do hope you can open those doors to your therapist. I also dearly hope that she is up to the job of taking your conscious mind into every closet within those rooms.

You also wrote:

"Some days when I am driving and thinking, I feel really good. Many other times, I have to fight against fear. I am able to combat it? Is that a good word? I am able to acknowledge what is setting off my fears and calm myself down, but some days it is more of an effort than others."

This is the whole crux of the human condition. I suspect that the vast majority of human beings, and other animal species, act out of fear most if not all of the time. Put simply, we are emotionally driven to enhance our wellbeing and diminish our perceived threats. I know that I have written this before. But it is important. Why? Because this is the cause of much of our unhappiness, I believe. If we lived in the very moment bringing only our 'pure' mind to that present moment, devoid of any thoughts about judging future events after being filtered through the distorting influences of our past negative experiences, then we would become 'as little children and see the kingdom of heaven' right here, right now. Sorry about the biblical quote. This is what I believe Christ really meant - not the distorted crapola spruiked by born again Christians.

For me, facing fear means looking at what it is that I fear happening to 'me' in the future as a result of what has happened in the past.

For example, last night, I was nominated, seconded and voted into the interim chairman's job of holding the annual elections at our club's 2007 AGM. I carried out the electing of the new president and then tried to vacate the chair for the new president to take over as per normal practice. However, the president declined asking me to chair the rest of the meeting, which I did.

During the course of general business a highly provocative and damaging motion was moved and seconded. I then called for speakers from the floor for and against the motion to air their views. It quickly started into a slanging match between the motion mover and its intended victim. I rose to my feet demanding 'order' and severely reprimanded the member who attacked the other member. He took his seat like a naughty school boy. From then on I conducted the meeting by strictly adhering to the disciplines laid out in Robert's Rules, the international standard for conducting meetings. The motion was defeated but not without old adversaries snipping at me for so constraining their bad behavior. I held the reigns tight and was given a standing ovation upon closing the meeting. Several people congratulated me for how well I handled the meeting. I should have been delighted and been on a high. However, I was full of fear and apprehension. During the subsequent dancing, my partner, Joy, remarked that my hands were shaking. When I went to bed I couldn't get to sleep. This is vary rare for me. I'm usually asleep 30 seconds after my head hits the pillow. I had what felt like a sleepless night. I did sleep in that twilight region of not being awake but not in a deep sleep. I kept going over and over and over the meeting events in great detail looking for flaws in my performance not finding any of any significance. Yet I couldn't stop!!

This circular recapitulations are very rare for me! My buddy rang me this morning over the moon with the meeting's outcomes and my performance in helping to create the environment wherein free speech for all triumphed. I am still very unsettled. Why?

Now I have to take my own medicine. What is it that I fear? It is not obvious!!! My mind doesn't want to look. It wants to indulge in taking evasive action by telling me what a powerful chairman I was and how good I am at controlling my world around me!! This is my mind seeking power as a compensation, an evading antidote for my fear rather than courageously and painstakingly looking deeply into the well hidden, and self-diminishing false beliefs that underpin and trigger off my fear!!!

It might take me several meditation sessions - but I will get into my psyche and discover this false belief. I guarantee you that.

Trust me, all of us humans, your therapist included, are on this life journey together, even though most of us are probably unaware of it.

I was looking at a TV documentary showing Von Hagen's plasticized corpses and at the same time contemplating who and what it was that these one time humans were trying to defend and preserve. Many of these deceased humans may have donated their bodies in a vain attempt to preserve the unpreservable even after death. But what were they preserving? A vehicle now long overdue for the 'wrecking' yard of tissue degradation but saved by modern plastics from further corruption for at least an extended time?

I'll leave this post there. We both have work to do on ourselves.

See yah later, you cheeky man killer, you!!

March 25, 2007
9:49 pm
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Hey Tez

It's always good to hear from you. I have been thinking about your last post for 3 days now.

Because of what happened within me when I read this -"I do hope you can open those doors to your therapist. I also dearly hope that she is up to the job of taking your conscious mind into every closet within those rooms."

You know? When I first read this- I had the thought that maybe no one is up to it- maybe I am so disturbed and complex, that no one is truly up to the challenge. I recognise this for what it is. It's because I have kept these thoughts to myself and not talked about them. Because of fear. I allowed those fears to grow in ignorance - like those mushrooms - in the dark.

Then I decided you must have been referring to her experience and qualifications. Center of my world, I tell you!!

When she and I were discussing Daddy and whether or not he was prominent in my life, I told her that he was very prominent until the divorce, but rather faded away in the years after, for several reasons, but one of them being his involvement with church. I told her that he and I have recently begun to bridge the gulf between us, but it was difficult for me to do this because he puts his "christianity" between himself and the world, as a filter and that communication between us is difficult at times because I don't believe any of it.

She looked surprised when I said this. Her eyebrows quivered as if they were fixin to raise up. I abruptly stopped talking about it when I saw her eyebrows quiver.

I have thought of this over and over since then. I have thought that maybe I won't go there with her. (see, I'm debating with myself over pasting and printing my posts from Science Without Bounds and Gnosis).

I find myself vascillating between my concept of self-preservation even with a therapist and my determination to be honest and trust. In the last few days, I have vascillated between trusting her and trusting myself. As an either-or proposition. I am struggling with this obstacle - and having the courage to trust both of us.

And I believe it is wrong to think this way- in trying to think that I am somehow too sick for a therapist, or that she will be too judgemental. I am making presumptions before I have any information or opinion about her.

My mind is trying to form opinions in advance.

Back and forth. Back - I don't know her, so I am hesitant to share. I feel silly, but I find myself shrinking back from the thought.

Forth - I don't know her, so her opinion of me should not matter. It's her job to help me, not my job to seek her approval. I have pasted and printed all my recent posts - about the babysitter, the perv next door- my Mamdrama, My sister. I agree that it will save time.

Back - then I take a break, and find that little whisper saying oh you've done enough!! Don't overload the poor woman

It's the face to face- because even printing my private innermost thoughts and handing them to her will eventually require face to face discussion. The conflict I have even during sex- wanting the pigf**kin- and the conflicting desire I have for submission and dominance. The ambiguity(?? ) I feel about homosexuality or bisexuality. If I talk to her about my relationship with my cousin, she will be the second person I have confided this to.

These are the things I mention because I know that talking about these subjects is going to require courage of me, and I feel scared and tearful right now thinking about it.

See- I can say that - this& that & this& this - all happened to me. I can finally admit it. I am learning to talk about it. What is most difficult for me is to say- ok this shit happened and because of this- I am this. I don't want abuse to define me. I don't want to be stuck in a point in PTSD, or worse, stuck in denial and anger- and never go forward. I don't want it to define me.

I will be more than an abused person.I will be more than the abuse. I am asking myself if, in making that statement, that I don't want it to define me - if this is a desire to grow and move forward, or simply another form or method of denial?

Forth- I'm going to get all those posts pasted. And printed. I am stubborn and tenacious, and that is a good thing sometimes.

Thanks for being here and peeking into one of my rooms. Love ya.

March 25, 2007
10:32 pm
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Bevdee

Thanks for yet another interesting post, in which you said:

"I am struggling with this obstacle - and having the courage to trust both of us."

I see the unconscious 'negotiations' that take place to establish this mutual trust will take time. I believe that you will automatically 'open the doors' a little bit at a time testing the water. If she does not come up to the mark I think you will sense it and tend to close the doors a little. If she's switched on, she will sense this, back off and come at 'it' more slowly. It will be OK. She's a human being with issues as well - that's for sure. You may inadvertently push her buttons. But that is her problem to face her own issues, not yours. You are paying her to help you as you say - not to fix up her psyche.

As for the "pigf..kin", I think that is a powerful signpost not to be ignored or taken lightly. In my case it is highly significant in indicating the level of my hatred and resentments that I once held towards my mother, because of her behavior towards me. These resentments have not gone completely nor may they ever go in this lifetime of mine. Your signpost in this regard may well be pointing to something very different. But I believe that it is still highly significant.

I'd like to start a thread called: "Who likes Pigf...kin?" to see how many people have the same kind of sexual desires and preferences and why. But I won't because I think that most will misunderstand my motives and either not respond or become abusive.

I'll stop there before this turns into another lecture.

March 25, 2007
10:39 pm
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Tez

"I'd like to start a thread called: "Who likes Pigf...kin?" to see how many people have the same kind of sexual desires and preferences and why."

Yeah, it would probably be just you and me- reruns!!

This made me laugh out loud. Thanks.

March 28, 2007
7:56 pm
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Hey Tez

I don't think I have an essay for you today! But...it's early yet.

I really wanted to pop in and say hi, and to let you know that I'm still around.

I was thinking about a quote - a Nietzsche quote-that you posted to me a long time ago, and I wondered if you would share your interpretation of it with me?

"He who knows the 'why' can bear any 'how'." - Friedrich Nietzsche

You see, I have had some more memories surface, and I believe that once I am able to untangle the fear and horror from the memories, I will be able to put it all together.

Anyway, I am not being deliberately vague, but I just can't articulate anything very well right now.

Talk to you later-

March 31, 2007
7:30 pm
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Bevdee

On the 28-Mar-07 you asked me to share my understanding of this quote:

"He who knows the 'why' can bear any 'how'." - Friedrich Nietzsche

Explaining my take on this quote is best done with an example from my own life's experiences that I have given here before in the past I think.

Years ago after awakening in hospital after an operation on my nose during which the bone was chizelled away, I was in intense pain. In the next bed was a guy who had a similar nose job and likewise was in pain. A beautiful young sister came to my bed and offered me an injection of morphine or pethedrine for the pain. Being mucho and cool, I said: "What pain?" She smiled and went on to the other guy. He, wanting to be just as tough and as cool as I thought I was, said: "I'll have the injection after he does!!" So every few hours the nursing staff came back for both our refusals of pain relief. This went on for a couple of days until we were released from hospital. When I was being discharged, a sister full of admiration, said that she had never seen anything like it. Even today I don't remember any pain then - yet I must have been in great pain at the start. Had I been smacked in the nose by some thug rather that choosing to undergo an operation for my benefit then the same nose damage caused pain would have been intolerable and I would have begged for both pain relief and revenge!!

The mind is a very powerful thing. It can choose to ignore pain to the extent that it is almost unfelt. But to do that the mind must have a very good reason. It must have the 'why' before it can bear the 'how'. If one knows that the pain is only a signal that, with good reason, need not be heeded then the pain soon recedes into the background. It is not that the signals stop coming. It is that they are ignored just as many other stimuli in daily life are. Traffic noise at night in a big city is another example. People switch off to it because they know the 'why' of it all!!

'How' one can live a meaningful life and bear up under great hardships is very dependent upon understanding the reason why such hardships need to be undergone.

When it comes to psychological pain, unconsciously or consciously believing that one is an innocent victim of some perpetrator causes great emotional pain responses.

Knowing the 'why' at the deepest levels, i.e. the psychological reasons that such emotional pain is being triggered , gives great relief by quelling the thoughts that maintain the emotional triggering over time into quiescence. Without the emotion triggering thoughts the emotions soon settle down.

Thus 'how' one can bear living with such a tormented past is very dependent upon the level of understanding of the 'why'.

This Nietzsche quote came from a book called 'Man's Search for Meaning' which was written by Prof. Viktor Frankl, the father of the Logotherapy School of Psychotherapy.

Frankl survived 4 years in the Nazi concentration camp at Auschwitz soley because he knew the 'why'. Many others didn't and couldn't bear the 'how'. These people chose to die on the electric fences from electrocution, being shot for some trivial offense, by jumping into the fires consuming hundreds of bodies in open pits, or just from sheer loss of the will to live. Frankl maintained that even the daily selections of the weakest destined for the gas chamber were somehow governed by the 'will to live' of those people.

I guess the 'will to live' is strongly related to knowing the 'why' at its deepest level.

My uncle, now dead, was a POW on the infamous Burma railway. He recounts how many men no sicker or malnourished than the rest, just gave up and died over night in their sleep. His own life was saved by a friend coaxing him to live and to eat his meager food ration; food in which he had lost all interest yet was so critical to him just surviving the night's sleep.

Catch you later, cheeky one.

March 31, 2007
7:55 pm
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Tez

I opened a door to another room in my head, and it has been very difficult. I'm not sure why this hit me so hard, because I believe I have known this at some level for about 11 years. Last week was the 11th anniversary of my grampa's death, and a conversation I had been having with GG about her childhood sexual abuse triggered all this.

My mother's parents.

When I was 8 my mother told me that her daddy found his mother hanging in the basement.

When I was 12, Gramma told me that after this happened, he was "never a husband" to her again. She was 38. He was 40. My mother was 14. Her sisters were 16 and 5. I had asked her why Grampa slept in a different bed, and she gave me this explanation, telling me that when they built their new house, she had the extra bedroom for him. It moved the temptation from her. When I was 12. When I was 28, she told me how difficult it was to stay faithful to a man that would or could not have sex with her. She stayed because of her religious convictions, and she stayed faithful (sexless) for 40 years because it would have been a sin to do otherwise. She told me she prayed nightly, "Lord - take this desire from me"

My mother got pregnant with me when she was 17. She has always claimed to me that she was a virgin. 36 years later, I started asking questions about everything I had ever been told, trying to sort the truth from my mother's lies. My daddy told me this was not true.

I can't remember ever being alone with my grampa. In fact, I don't have childhood memories of my grampa, other than a vague, shadowy presence. Gramma was always in the forefront - dominating, orchestrating the family get-togethers. Their house was always spotlessly clean and eerily still. No music or television ever played when the family was together. Only my mom and aunts singing hymns after the meal. It was never chaotic. It was very ordered. We were told to be quiet because Grampa was depressed. My mother told me that my gramma didn't like kids, but this is not what I have observed. She loved it when my mom and grampa went to his high school reunions. Sometimes she called Mom to take him other places, to give her a break from him. She kept us and we had a blast. She sang and danced and played with us. When my sister had her children, I saw Gramma sit on the floor, with an arthritic knee from an old patellar injury, and play Barbies for hours with my 4 year old niece. He never hugged us.

My mother talked a lot in front of her kids about her family. She adored her daddy, and feared her mother. From the wildly inappropriate age of 10, I was hearing the following-

Her older sister's second husband told my mother that my aunt "just laid there" when they had sex. "Like a dead fish". He divorced her when he found her down at the river performing oral sex on a 14 year old boy - not her son. Later, both her sons left her home by the time they were 16 to live with their paternal grandmother. The reasons for this were NEVER discussed. In fact, I remember a saying of the family, "Don't ask- it just is."

This aunt married and divorced a third time, then dated a few men and told her daughter-in -law she liked to be wined and dined, but hated having sex.

My mother's younger sister is bulimic. She once told me that the only time her daddy ever told her he was proud of her was when she *dieted* her weight down to 85lbs. She has been married for 32 years to a boy she met in high school. She told me last Xmas that she and Uncle haven't had sex for 18 years. So- when she was 38, they quit having sex. I asked her, "so who do you have sex with?" She just laughed and said, "No one, silly. I don't care for it". They do everything together, teaching Sunday school at church, caring for wounded animals, cooking, physical fitness. They have never spent a night apart. Whenever she talked to my grampa, she talked wike a itty bitty wittle gur-ul.

My mother told me that every time she has ever had sex with anyone, it got her into trouble. She would prefer not to have to bother with it.

When I was 12, my mother was transferred from the school where she was teaching in the middle of the school year, because 2 sets of parents complained about her attachment to their sons.

There were very strict rules for how we were to behave around grampa. We were always to be quiet. Sometimes, when we visited, he would not come out of his room until Grandma called him out. He took Elavil for years after he quit drinking. He was never seen by a psychiatrist, though. This Elavil was prescribed by the family dr- general practitioner. After my sister and I grew up, we were allowed to wear heels, but never around him because he was 5’4. There were family dinners every two weeks and we were to dress *up*. We were never to show up wearing jeans. Sometimes my mother would call beforehand and ask me what I was planning to wear. My mother's older sister's son married a very overweight woman that did not spend the time on her appearance that the rest of us do, and my grampa hated her. She horrified him. Fat and not well-dressed. Eventually they were not invited to the family meals.

My grampa used to visit my mother each week on his day off. Gramma never knew.

About 25 years ago, there was an incident in my grandparents' neighborhood. A neighbor called the police, after he saw my grampa watching his teenage daughter sunbathing by the pool - watching with binoculars. The police came to my grandparents house and talked to them, but no charges were pressed. When my mother told me about it, she was very upset at the neighbor, saying that he was being unreasonable- if the girl was out in the yard, people were going to look. Me? Being me- blurted "Oh no just like the Fernwood Flasher!" I was told to leave her house. Immediately. I did, hearing my sister laughing in the background. Sometimes I can't help it, these things just tumble out of my mouth. I made jokes about everything.

My mother's cousin told me a story- when I visited his mother, my great-aunt, grampa's sister, a patient in the psyche ward for ECT. He told me that our great-grandmother was a beautiful 14 year old girl when our great-grandfather met her. G-Grampa divorced his wife to marry her at the turn of the last century. He told me that his mother told him that she and my grampa saw, when they were very small children, their mother in bed with her step-son. The stepson left to live somewhere in the desert and never ever returned. This is that mother that killed herself 30some years later.

My mother told me that when she got pregnant with me, Gramma told her she had no choice but to marry my daddy. My mother cried about this to me a lot, but once, she made this curious statement. "It was all about appearances and propriety with them, and WHY? We were nobody"

Remembering this caused me to really think about my grandparents. Another time, my gramma told me that her sister married the man she wanted to marry. So, after the wedding, she left the farm to go to beauty school, and met my grampa after she got her first job and he walked in to get a haircut. His family had money. She told me that her family warned her not to marry him, because they were of a different denomination, and they drank and had "problems"

Eventually, they did well on their own. They owned a store (in the Bible Belt) and relied on PR, community goodwill for customers. They attended a church in that neighborhood. Their acceptance in that church was very important to them. Grampa was a deacon, and they considered that an honor. He was a member of the Masonic lodge, and they were very proud of that membership, too. She was the most "successful" of anyone in her family, and that was important to her.

My gramma was angry at my grampa as long as I can remember. She talked about him behind his back, and to his face, in the presence of family. She embarrassed him constantly, and he never responded. There are many reasons that I could see that she would be angry at him, besides my suspicion, but he never responded to her.

My mother was very protective of her daddy. I could see this from the time I was a very little girl. She was very angry at her mother. Grandma cut my mom down a lot- but it was not often verbal. It was more facial expressions.

Ok- I have shoved this back for 11 years. When my grampa died. He had bladder cancer for 5 years and fought a brave fight. Finally at Thanksgiving dinner, he announced (unusual for him to talk to a large group of people, even family) that he was not going to endure any more surgeries for the bladder cancer. He asked that everyone respect his decision to die in his home. He deteriorated very quickly, and by the middle of March it was obvious that he was not going to pull through this time.

His three daughters stayed by his side for the last two weeks of his life- taking shifts so that someone was constantly at his bedside. They all have beautiful voices, and sang his church hymns to him as he lay dying.

About three days before he died, he started this erratic breathing, called Cheyne-Stoking, where the breath stops for several seconds. I would sit at his bedside and count, watching his chest rise, fall, and stop. Once, terrifyingly, it was 10 seconds before he inhaled again, and this time after a couple of inspirations, he looked over at me, and smiled, and said, "I saw Mama. She looks good."

The day before he died, everyone in the family 'a custom in her family, the death watch. I tried to pray (!) for the release of his spirit from his body, so racked with cancer and pain. I wished for his release. I tried to will into the universe - his release. I couldn't stand the sight of his suffering.

When it was obvious to all of us that he was so near the end, my mother crawled into the bed with him and cradled him. She laid there after he passed. Not my gramma, my mom. My step dad finally picked her up to get her off the bed.

After that last breath, my stepfather sat in the room with the body, because it is supposed to be bad luck to leave a dead person alone in the room they died in. I went to sit in the kitchen with Gramma, crying at the table, and she looked up at the ceiling and said "Miss Camilla, I took care of him the best way I knew."

After the funeral home came to get his body, in the middle of all the crying and screaming and the phone ringing, my mother pulled my cousin's 24 year old wife Chanda, to the side and held both her elbows and rubbed the skin on her forearms. She told her this -"Daddy always liked to touch your soft young skin. It was safe". I asked her later what she meant by this, and she looked surprised and said, "Well he can't touch any of us, now can he?" I have pushed this thought away ever since.

For at least a full year, Mom visited his grave every day. She started telling me stories about him, all part of her grief process, I thought. She told me that she and her daddy always had their secrets. From Gramma. He would give her money and tell her "don't tell your mother". He gave her his cigarettes. She was the only daughter he bought a car for.

I am wondering if she and her sisters were molested by their daddy, who suffered from seeing his mother in bed with his big brother. Who suffered so from finding his mother's hanging body, that he was unable to ever perform sexually with his fine looking wife after that. I wonder because from what they tell me, they all seem so sexually dysfunctional. Because one of my aunts was kind of pedophile herself. And maybe my mom got in trouble with that, too. Because, from what I see, it seems to have repeated itself through each generation. Something else Mom said to me once disturbed me and still does- "you’re not going to have kids, are you? You won't continue the line. It stops with you? That's good." At this time, she and my sister were battling over my nieces sleeping in the bed with my mom when they visited. The older one was 11, the younger one 8. My sister did not want them sleeping in bed with my mom. I always wondered at this, because my sister slept in the same bed with my mother until she was 12, when Mom married the minister. I wonder at my mother's statement about not continuing the line- it could have been pertaining to that skin on childskin need, or just to the mental illness in general.

My sister also exhibits nearly all the characteristics of BPD and she has never talked about anyone molesting her as a child, or as an adult, raping her.

I wonder at what my gramma had to tell herself to stay in the marriage, to hold the family together- the way her church told her to, and what she told her little girls. That entire household, that entire family was geared around that man. Keeping him happy, protecting his feelings, and not upsetting him.

I wonder if his favoritism of my mother was so obvious to Gramma that she was anxious to get her out of the house at the age of 17. And she resented her. I know my mother hated and feared Gramma for at least all my life. But, to my knowledge, they never cleared the air about this before my gramma's stroke. It just is.

I wonder if this is why my mother and her older sister exhibit so many of the characteristics attributed to BPD.

I wonder if this is why my mother was unable to address the subject of my molestation. Because if she did, she would be forced to address hers. I will never know. Once, I tried to talk to my aunts and my Gramma about my mother's pregnancy and her marriage to Daddy, and I have never hit such a brick wall as I did with them. They refused to talk about it. If I wasn't the spitting image of my daddy and his mother, I would really wonder. I wonder, actually, I know that my struggle to break out of the family mode, and the pattern we were all entrenched in, was frightening to my aunts and gramma. They backed away, but my mother fought with everything in her arsenal of head games to keep me in her *circle*. She would tell me what a wonderful man he was, how godly, kind, generous, a loving father. She told me stories of all the poor people he took food baskets to, and how he looked after one of gramma's sisters after her husband died. I had never heard any of this until he died and after I asked her why she told Chanda that her skin was safe. It seemed that she made a special effort to tell me what a great guy he was. Until gramma had a stroke, Mom hated, and feared her. Now, she says she can love her mother, because the stroke took away the mean part of Gramma's brain, and she can take care of her.

When I was trying to deal with living in that house with the sex offender, I told my mother, and she told me that it was not my "job" to pass judgment on any human being. (This from the most judgmental woman on earth who came fron the most judgmental family on earth) This caused me to remember how she defended Michael Jackson each and every time he was accused of messing with those little boys. She would say- "he is a sensitive, talented man, and people misunderstand him." Whatever - all I know is that I could never ever listen to PYT (Pretty Young Thing) again.

I wonder at my gramma and the way I remember that she watched his every move. It was obvious to me when I was a teenager. I always thought he must have messed around on her. This pattern or his mental illness must have been established early, because her control over him and the finances caused him to be very indecisive. He relied on her for nearly everything. He wouldn't make a decision without her. I wonder if it is true that he molested or sexually abused those girls and gramma knew? She must have decided to keep the horror of it in that house. There was too much to lose. They would have lost their standing in the community, their position in their church (their only social and business contact) and their livelihood would have suffered. That is just the practical aspect of it. They would have lost her perception of status. And their perception of normalcy and being right.

I love my gramma. She was always real sweet to me, and there were times I felt that she was trying to make up to me for the way my mother ignored me. She was a hairdresser when she met grampa, and we used to play Big Girl, and she would fix my hair in finger-waves, and let me wear her nice dresses. Later, she taught me to quilt and complicated crochet stitches. She was my sewing and cooking hotline. My mother never spent time with me, never even taught me to boil water. Both my grandma and Nana, Daddy's mom, taught me the feminine...arts.

I wonder at the need to control him- and I wonder whose mind was more dangerous- his or hers? Gramma, the *sane* one, keeping the secrets, and covering it with her religion. Covering it all with the blanket of her religion, and trying to control all the humans'(that she considered her responsibility) behaviour with those religious mores. Trying to make it nice.

Realising this has given me some insight. I have always thought it was important to look good, bake nice pies, and keep a real clean house. This is what my gramma did, and taught her daughters who taught their daughters. NO matter what else is going on, by God, we kept up appearances, and held our heads high. If they talked about anything, it was behind the closed doors of that quiet, clean house. They are all really snobby, they look down on everyone. They talk about other people and laugh at those that they consider not measuring up to their external standards. not like us This probably started with my gramma, who came from poverty (after not marrying the first man she fell in love with- who married her sister) married a man who did not meet the standards of her family's denomination, their definition of Christianity, and ill-equipped to deal with the mental problems he and his family had, just pretended everything was ok.

We never acknowledged our feelings at Gramma and Granddad's house. Once I said, "oh I hate that little boy" about a kid that had hit me in the head with a rock, and she turned to me and said, "Oh *Bevdee* WE don't hate." WE smiled. WE were gracious and quiet. WE were good.

I feel this need to make a villain in this story, you know? And I can't. I can't because as uncomfortable as that man always made me by his silence, his hesitance, his shyness, his snobbery, and disapproval of my childish boisterousness, I guess I loved him.

I am able to understand my gramma, a woman trapped by her gender, her time, and her religious convictions and her pride to keep the family together at all costs. I am horrified for her - if my suspicions are correct.

I can't be angry at my aunts anymore for not talking to me when I needed answers - if this happened, and I think it did, then I can understand why they were afraid to talk to me. I have always been the bull in the china shop / detective / blurter. They are sweet ladies, sweeter to me than my mother is, but they are entrenched in that conspiracy. The conspiracy is to protect their daddy.

My poor mother, if she endured this. My poor little tiny mother, so ragingly insecure, much more so than I am, that may have had this shape her life and her mental state. If this happened, if her daddy abused her - I can understand why my abuse was overlooked or glossed over or whatever. Because, for my mother to address it might have caused her memories to surface, and she wasn't (still isn't) ready to face them.

I feel sorry for her as a little girl, as a very young mother, and as an old woman, but I can't be around her. She doesn't tell the truth about anything

This has fucked with my perception. This has rocked the foundation of my perceptions about my Grandma. Not him, because I always knew he was a dark horse. But this - all the ramifications of this. About the family front they presented to the word. And I have known at some level for a long time, but refused to explore the possibility.

I am trying to pinpoint the fear I had when I decided to start jotting these memories and impressions down. When I wrote everything down, and started to try to chronologise it, I was horrified beyond words. I was once again nauseatingly afraid.

Part of my fear is that I cannot reach a conclusion. My grandparents are / were nice people, and I can't vilify anyone. I just feel really really sad for all of them. All of us. My mind wants to assign blame, but I can't. I have been trying for almost a week. It just goes back and back and back, all the way up the family tree. I could even blame religion, but that too goes back and back and back, and the men of the time molded that to conform to their wishes and needs.

I'm in a loop.

I have these memories that I have stored to take out and thumb through when I miss them. Now with this? What is to happen to my memories!

And my mind can't wrap around any conclusion.

Whew!! Tough room!

Bevdee

March 31, 2007
11:45 pm
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bev, I am sitting here in tears as I was mesmorized by your post. I am so sorry that I triggered this for you...so sorry...

gg

April 1, 2007
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Oh GG!

This is not your fault. This was here long before I ever came here.

(((GG)))

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