A Part Of Me

During the last weeks and especially after that certain event when I got my hair cut, my therapist and I have been working with a part of me I obviously have lost when I was still very young. I have never had trust in this method, you know, and always questioned the use in dealing with younger selves. I wanted to regard them as gone forever, even dead, because I thought it would hurt too much and bring too much back if they were not. But, as you know when you’ve been following me for longer, there already are certain child-parts of me active in my life, like that little boy who still needs diapers and his pacifier. I found out that living out that aspect of myself has made it easier to cope with it. The pressure has vanished, and sometimes when I feel the urge to be little, I just give in and allow myself to be a child again.

Now, I have made contact with a part of myself who is about 6-7 years old, a shy, deranged boy who can’t speak propperly (he stutters) and is very frightened about anything. He doesn’t really speak to anyone and shys away from people, especially from men, which is a bit tricky, because I am a man, I live together with a man, my therapist is a man, and even my best friend is a man. He fears almost any movement and one of his gestures is to put his hand to his head as if he wants to prevent someone from hitting him. Am I surprised? Not at all. Besides all other tortures, my father used to hit me on the head, like very often and very brutal. I have suffered several traumas in my head region, ranging from concussions to a broken jaw and several injuries in my ear region. As a result, on the right ear I can’t hear porperly. I’m not really hearing-impaired, but I’m not able to hear very high tones. Of course hearing and the ability to speak properly are connected, so I’m not surprised that this boy is stuttering.

When he was suddenly there, he brought a lot of memories with him I wanted to forget. Or to be honest: I had forgotten. My therapist says that that’s quite normal. I have seperated this part of me from my conscious memories and locked it up somewhere deep inside myself. To be honest, I wish he had stayed there, but my therapist and even John keep telling me it’s good that he’s back with me. Since he’s with me, I suffer from nightmares, and when I wake up, I’m spacy and panicking. Ugh. My therpist has encouraged me to find out what this boy might need, and I went to buy him a helmet. I thought that was stupid, but obviously he likes it.

At the moment, I don’t know how to cope with the pictures and memories he has brought with him. I see myself at that very young age, trying to be a good boy and know what my father wants before even he knows. I remember his dirty fingers anywhere, his brutality, then again his tender movements to make me cum, still dry. I remember that feeling of getting a stiffy, of being ashamed but liking it anyway, of wanting to die or to run away. My lame attempts to hide from him, my discomposure when he made bottles and hangers break on my body, and my decision to never feel anything again and to vanish. It makes me so sad to see and even worse feel this boy again, standing alone between shards and broken bones with nowhere to go. I try to tell myself that he is me, but I have difficulties in really feeling him. I’m afraid it might be too much if I’d allow that to happen, but on the other hand I know I now have a place to bring him to: right into my arms or maybe into John’s.

In these moments I feel that hatred again. I hate myself, I hate that scum who did that to me. It will never end. I even hate that.

4 thoughts on “A Part Of Me

  1. mondfeuer says:

    Hey,
    I know this feeling pretty well to.
    My past was not as hard as yours, but to me hard enough to know that it will never end, that i never will be free or heal in a way others are.
    The only thing that really helps me to cope with all that shit is, to make the best out of everything, to get up every day for the ones i love, in my case my sons and a few dear friends. In your case i think it´s John.

    I asked a spirit to help me to deal with the things my younger selfs struggel and suffern from. I don´t know how she´s doing this, but since that moment, when i kneeled at her altar and asked for help, it was a bit better.

    A few years ago, when my work with her began, i made a shamanic journey to her, to get in contact with her and looked out how we would work together. What she wants, what i am able to give and so on.
    When we finished talking, she said, she has something from me, which wanted to get back.
    And behind her throne a little boy from maybe 3 or 4 years came across the room towards me.
    In this moment, i realized, that this was me and that this was a huge part of myself i´ve lost due to the abuse and other things.
    This little boy came to me, hugged me and said he wants to go with me.
    In this moment, he goes into me and was again part of myself.

    There is another boy, state of myself, at the age of 8 or 9 maybe. He just wants to be safe and loved, but i can´t do it, so i made him a nice room, where he is as safe as i can manage, but avoid to go to him…

    Sometimes i look at the statue of this particular spirit and know, she take care of them til the moment i am able to do this on my own.
    I´m sure you will find a way to come to a state of wellbeing as much as it is able for you.

    I´m not one of those people who believes, that healing and to be whole and happy like people with an easy past is possible. That is a lie to me and smells a lot like bullshit, but i believe that there is for everyone a particular state of wellbeing and coping with all that shit in a kind that we can handle it.

    Even if it looks from the outside not really happy or well, as long as we think we made the best out of it, it is worth all the pain and all the suffering a therapy comes along with.

    • blaubeermann says:

      Hiya mondfeuer,

      thank you very much for your kind words! Indeed, I have tried to work with Lord Shiva and even more Lady Parvati in terms of taking care for my inner children, as there are obviously some of them. But it is hard. I have never experienced a mother’s love and it makes me feel a bit uncomfortable when Lady Parvati or women like my sister-in-law or my boss try to be motherly towards me. I don’t know how to react to them, so I tend to push them away or try not to show any need for a mother figure at all, to prevent them from being motherly.

      When I’m doing certain things which are connected to those parts of me (like wearing that helmet I mentioned), I’m able to experience them as a sort of myself, but they always stay a bit outside. When I read about the journey in which a younger self slipped back into you, I thought that must have been wonderful and frightening at the same time, wasn’t it? Did that change your perception of yourself? Did you learn new things from that young boy?

      I think you’re right. We will never be like normal people and what is normal to us might look shattered and insane to them. You know how much I struggle with accepting my needs, my kinks and actually myself. I would love to be normal, lead a normal life, have a normal job, normal kinks, be capable of all the things normal people do. But I can’t. I guess I don’t even have a realistic idea of what normal actually means.

      On my good days, I think I’m doing pretty well, having in mind what I went through. On others days, I think it’s all hopeless and that I should kill myself to make it easier for my family. But I know that if I did that, my father would have won, finally.

      • mondfeuer says:

        Hey,
        Yes, it was frightening and wonderful at the same time.
        After this i was able to get in contact with things like playing, have fun with little games with my sons, like playing with Lego and cars and such things.
        It was very difficult for me, to do things like this with my sons, because my childhood dosen´t involve playing in a normal way. There are a lot of things i learned thorugh my own children i never experienced before and do it still today and i think also in the future.
        My big son is now 12, on his way to the puberty, which is a difficult thing to manage as father, but also as a broken man who struggles with so much. But i do my best, talk about these things with my therapist and friends who have also kids and can show me ways to handle this situation.

        Normal….normal is an unrealistic ideal of things that can´t be in a specific way. At least from my point of view, so i try to be unique, do things in my way and take care that nobody get´s hurt with this way of living, but also i wish to have a bit less unusual habits and stuff.

        Since i part from my last girlfriend, i finally start to learn who i am, what i want and what i don´t want anymore in my life, thoughts and so on.

        I learnd, or better to say, realized, that a lot of things i thought about myself, but never mentioned to anyone, are the things i really wish for, like an open relationship with a man who is not everyday around me, is able to fuck me really hard, a bit of BDSM and is also able to give love, cuddling and watching silly movies together and, most important of all, let me be te person who i am.
        I´m a bit traumatized by my last 2 relationships, which where in fact my only real relationships. I know what i want, but i´m not able to look for ways to get it, because i´m afraid of intim situations, gentle and soft caretaking.

        My ex-wife and also my ex-girlfriend where more like a third child i have to take care of then anything else. I was never in a position that another one taked care of me in a way i did for so many people my whole life. I crave for that and avoid it at the same time.

        Also the mother thing….i don´t know if you read my blog, but last year, i finally get in contact with my other family. My father, his wife and their children, and my stepmother is so lovely, she treats me like her own child. A few months ago, she has get a tattoo. A blossom with six petals.
        She gave birth to five kids, and the first letter of their names are in each petal. In the sixth, she has my first letter of my birthname. This was so lovely, beautiful and fullfilling on one hand, but also scaring the hell out of me, makes me very uncomfortable and anxiety on the other hand, that i had needed a few weeks to cope with that.

        I cried a lot in this time, and also now it makes me shivers.
        As you, i never expirienced motherly behavior in my direction, not because she was gone, just because my mother (i hate the term, she don´t deserve it) is a fucked up monster….

        On the good days i fell like you, also on the bad ones, but then, in when the bad days happens, i told myself, that it will be gone in a few days, cope with my skills what goes around in my head and deal with it at best as i´m able to. Sometimes with bad behaivior to myself, like doing to much which causes more pain and also cause sometimes thrust (???Schub einer Krankheit)

        Everytime i read your blog, i´m stunned and happy that people who suffered a lot more than me are able to get their life in their own way together. I know it´s hard for you, but you should be proude of yourself. You are stronger then so much people out there! Be kind to yourself as much as you can handle it and are able to cope with it😉 You deserve a life that makes you feel well.

  2. blaubeermann says:

    I’m sorry, there was no reply button to hit, but I hope you’ll read this anyway.

    I have no children and I don’t want any because I think I wouldn’t be a reliable father. I’m not even able to cope with myself, how should I be able to take care for a child or even a pet?
    I have playful moments, for example when I’m scribbling or well, during what John and I do, but I haven’t played with toys in years. I guess I wouldn’t have any idea of what to do with them.

    Concerning your two relationships: it’s one of my worst fears that John one day might say that he’s fed up with taking care for me and getting nothing back. He keeps telling me that he is fine with everything we do for each other and that he feels taken care of, too, but I always wish for me to be more reliable and being able to give more. It’s very hard for me to regard myself as the partner who only takes and has nothing to offer.

    What your stepmom did, was very kind and ultimately sweet. She must be a kind and loving person and I’m glad you have her in your life.
    I don’t know anything about my mother. She might be dead, she might still be alive. My brother had once suggested we should search for her, but to be honest, I didn’t want to make contact. She’d be a total stranger to me and it would be odd to talk to her about my father and what he did. And I guess there’d be no way talking to her without telling her what he did. When I was youger, I had wished to ask her just one question (why did you leave?), but to be honest, it doesn’t really matter, because I actually can understand why she left. I just don’t get it why she left her two young sons with this man, but on the other hand my father was a very violent man who had guns and rifles and I don’t hestitate to believe he was able to threaten her life to make her leave without us. But all in all, that’s just thoughts.

    You know, I too have days when I’m in pain. I went to every doctor, but they all just keep telling me they can’t find anything and I should be alright. But I am not and even painkillers don’t work. I know it’s all in my brain, but these days are so exhausting. Sometimes taking warm baths is helpful. I like heat and water (and sauna!).

    Have a nice Sunday!

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