Von gestern auf heute hat mein Freund W bei mir geschlafen. Ich habe ihm erzählt, dass Yoga wieder getriggert hat und dass ich mich elend fühlte. Er hat vorgeschlagen, dass ich eine schamanische Reise machen soll in einen Moment, wo mein Vater mich oral vergewaltigt hat, bis es mir hoch kam, und dann aber in die Situation eingreifen soll. Ich habe erst gedacht, W verulkt mich, aber er hat mir das genauer erklärt, dass man eigentlich in jede Zeit gehen kann und da Sachen anders machen kann und dass es dann auch eine Auswirkung auf das Jetzt hat.
Ok, I have to change to English, I don’t think I can write this down in German.
Before we started, he again laid down next to me and held my hand. “Ok, buddy, close your eyes. I want you to see you, can you? And now dress yourself up like a superhero!” Hu? What? “Like any superhero you like, Batman or whoever. Or create your own superhero character, will ya?” I was like flatline in the brain, but W sticked to it. “Not for a joke, but a real superhero, someome with superpowers you would have trusted as a kid”. Ok, there I had it, simple as it was: Superman. Of course Superman. I had adored Christopher Reeve LOL Probably the first actor which caused me a stiffy LOL It was odd to imagine myself in that cool Superman costume as I don’t have the muscles, but ok, me as Superman felt alright.
W asked me to imagine the stones in the woods again and helped me slip through. He said, I should keep in mind that I want to travel to a situation in which I was orally abused by my father until I had to vomit and he made me gulp it down again. Well, after Yoga yesterday there was a certain moment in my mind all the time, so that was the easiest part of it. W added that this time I was not to re-suffer it, but to interfere in any way that seemed appropriate for me and that I could do anything I wanted to.
I had thought I’d perhaps find the door which led to my father’s converted room or so, but I was right there. Confusingly, I simultaneously was the kid tied to the bed and the superhero. I could smell him, feel him, taste him, I felt helpless, ashamed and dirty and at the same time I felt rage and contempt. But I could not do anything, just watch and re-experience it. I was like stone. W felt I needed help and he said, he too would enter that room and wait for my advises. W kicks ass, I tell you 🙂 Suddenly I could move and think again. I grabbed my father’s shoulder, pushed him away, but while I did that, I was still lying on the bed. He said things to me he also said to me when I was younger, but W said, I could silence him just by will, and so I tried, but it didn’t work out, and so W passed me some tape and that’s it. For the first time EVER my father just shut up. I thought, if I already have that tape handy, I could tie him. I did, which felt so odd! I don’t recall all the things I said and I had a hard time trying to keep me from doing worse things. But there was still that kid. No, there was me tied to the bed. I took the handcuffs off by will alone and picked my younger self up and flew through that window I have described earlier. Finally…in some way, it worked out.
Ok, so now I come to the most complicated part of it. I have tried to write about it before, especially when dealing with that Dad-son-thing. I don’t want to be misunderstood here. I don’t know how it feels to have a real Dad, a caring father who loves me and cares for me. John really wants to assume that role but it’s hard for me to let it happen, particularly because we have a sexual relationship, too. But one night when we talked it over, I said something like “if God wanted me to lose my virginity so early, then I wish it had been you”. John, of course. I felt guilty right away and I thought, Gees, I ruined it, but John seemed to fully understand what I wanted to say. Let me make it clear. NOBODY EVER wants to have sex as a child and that’s the most horrible and evil and ill argument of those perverts who claim that children want it or seduced them. They never do! But yeah, if I had had a choice and if I had known John already (who is older than I am), I would have run to him. I had wanted him to be my first and my last man and yeah, my Dad, too. That whole Dad-son-thing is only that moving for me because I never learned to seperate “normal” feelings from “sexual” feelings. I still can’t. I still think very sexually.
So, to come to the point, yesterday I flew myself to John. He was almost 20, when I was 10, and I told the kid that he’d be safe with John and that John’s gonna take care of him. Of me. Weird. I could not tell why, but I knew it’d be ok with John. As it turned out, it was, and he was surprised and touched by this when I told him on the phone about it today. I have no idea what this is supposed to mean, but it was the first time I did not feel frozen and incapable in the face of my father.
Later on, W and I were hungry like wolves and drove to McDonald’s, my first time in years. I ate two and a half big portions of fries without developing heartburn afterwards LOL Yeah, that W kicks ass 🙂 I myself am still a little confused, but I feel better now. Whatever.