Coming face to face with yourself

It isn't a nice feeling to see what you are really like and find that person wanting, in so many respects, to see yourself as you really are, finally, or properly for the first time, to have been accused of so many things, to get to what you have done, to cry for hours on end, feeling as though you have been scraped like the proverbial barrel until you expect there to be nothing left and indeed there is nought but the deepest darkest aspects, the shadow self, the true self, the one that you have never encountered before but is at the heart of everything you do, and then you see the truth of who you are, who you've been, what you've done, whether others were aware of it or not, and you realise that should be the case, it's my conscience, I have to live with this stuff revealed not others.

You've been round and round the houses, round everyone you know, demonising all of them in turn, one after the other, as groups, of old friends, the people you used to hang out with, over and over the same ground, sometimes feeling as though they were trying to help you to grow and learn and change and choose a better way for yourself, one that this part of you that has been revealed rebels against, go out into the woods, lay on the cold hard ground, shiver and shake and I try to compromise with my caravan or bedroom but that's a pine lined room of furniture how will your spirit ever return to you in there, this spiritual warfare goes on as I shudder and shake and lay underneath the covers sweating profusely hiding from imagined spiritual daggers aimed at my heart, poison tipped.

I'm tight lipped about all this for the whol period of several weeks that in my own estimation is 6 now 8 now 10 but could actually only be as little as half that, when I count things that regularly go on and assume I've gotten it all wrong because time has become so flimsy, hours pass by in an instant, five minutes in the blink of an eye, soaking in the bath, going under to be as Harry Potter because between him, Doctor Who and Luke Skywalker I've got these three great examples in my life and others of magical mystical things, archetypes, and others of course, god, the devil, the goddess as I had come to know here in my mind as I wrote that book and then deny it all, decry it all seeing it as mostly nonsense not a work of legend as I believe I may have called it at one point.

Now we're into six lines three times above, heavens above, I actually went out at night, or when it was still dark and I saw lights on at the place up the road when there definitely should NOT NOT NOT have been, groups of folks of a spiritual persuasion are out to help me, then get me when my confessions are complete or at least ongoing, and i see those light have gone out, NOW THAT'S a waking dream, a living nightmare, I carry on down that road, lane and I see a blinking light like it's there behing the wall, in a gap, in the field, I'm supposed to go over there and see what that light is, it's tiny, like a keyring torch, and I can't call its bluff this time so I wander along the lane and when I get to a better place to see what's what it's gone of course, so I know these are delusions.

No illusions, I've seen this kind of thing before, on a mushroom trip when there is more than enough scope for suggestions to be added to what you are seeing, I said I'm closing my eyes, when I open them I expect to see the Matrix, I know it's tired not tried and tested but I saw it, I saw black everywhere with green lettering coming down as though it was an old computer screen from the late eighties, early nineties, i closed my eyes again and said ok now everything is back to normal again, and of course it was so how open to suggestion, post hypnotic or otherwise are we?  How much of this place is really really real and how much of it is merely a joke?  Well don't let me make you think this has been funny, I can only say how incredibly well others have taken it but it was shocking...

It has been overwhelmingly uncomfortable for those around me and I get scared to say or write too much because this is private, their reaction to my actions is private, I don't even want to open it up again to ask but then I did just to see and let them know how much I feel for them, how much this process, this hurting me that is hurting you has opened me up to quite how closed off I've been in the past and it makes me gasp, it makes me remember times like this of the past, similarities but I know this has been the worst and it's scared me enough to make sure I straighten up and fly right but this shadow fucker is making me eat like that Adam bloke, me versus food, bad versus good, the negajon is much in attendance and I don't want to be the smirking devilish little fucker I've bin. BELIEVE!

So what's to be done, I've escaped medication again, I don't want counselling, I know what I've done and what I haven't and I feel as though as my opponents gradually became myself and whatever, whoever it was this informational source was, literally I was asking questions and the answers were coming back, now if I've splintered myself into several pieces, or not been clever enough to know how to treat oneself when coming down from being God which is what I remember of the thing that started all this and my innocence and utter rediculousness when it comes to drug experiences, I say yes too easily, I'm too open, now I have to be closed off like fuck and trap and treat myself as though I do give a flying fuck about everyone else, I'm scared enough never to do healing again and no drugs.

I woke at 6:16 this morning, my gmail account when I registered for email was myname666@gmail.com i fucking nearly fainted and got so panicked that that random, completely random I can tell you picked account was enough to have me sweating several years ago and wrangling like fuck to get it changed, I even changed the account I write my blog because they had become connected and then those numbers are just numbers aren't they?  I know people who say those are the numbers of the goddess, that may have been my own assertion, my own insertion into this plot because deja vu at one point of the last few weeks madness and insanity was that each person as I have suggested is revealing the final battle between good and evil within their own hearts, gute and minds right now.

I felt as though I was a christ not THE christ, and that this battle was between myself and whatever you want to call the other one, the bad one, I felt as though I was letting it, had let it in, for a quick look see around inside of me before letting it out again, whilst leaving a little something on the side, roaming around to have a good check right into the very heart of me and i didn't like it one bit but then I knew I was less scared of doing something to someone else and far more desperate at times to bash my own head in, not literally, but occasionally I punched myself in the head, just a bit, or cried out, screamed out, shouted at no-one in my mind only to find of course that was enough to let it all out, whatever was in there at the time and the pains in my body oh my goodness.

Pains in my heels as though pins were being driven into them, or into a voodoo doll of me, bring it on I deserve it, kill me, I've said that a few times, asked God to finish me off, please jsut let me die, I know asking that can be tempting fate but it didn't work, of course not that would be too easy, too simple, I always come back to what I used to do in Broadmead in Bristol, walk around thinking to myself I'm glad I'm me, look at all these other fuckers here, when I see them I realise I'm lucky to be me right now, lately that's been a bit of a bastard bargain, I still would rather be me and save someone else from being whatever is left at this point because I know I'm letting all the fragile friendships I have left atrophy and die, keep away I'm not sure how I will behave.

Over the last few weeks it has felt as though everyone was out to get me, everyone I've ever met and everyone I've never met, and all these lines come back at me as though from people I have said or written them to, all aspects of my mind are there to talk to me, and conversations have gone on in my mind as though I was talking to somebody else, and in such a way that it makes it clear I could not be just having a one sided, two sided chat with another part of me, or could I, with the subconcious, what I saw as the conduit between life and death, the imagination, the barrier between the me here and the thems over there on the other side of life as a medium does, they talk to guides and they allow their subconcious to take on feelings, physicality, symptoms, accents sometimes.

I've seen it when I used to reguarly visit a spiritualist church, and even they got the brunt of my wrath but my fear that they were somehow up to something the first time I went, something in my mind said, you're gonna get your heart cut out, they're bad folk, which of course they weren't but I'm guessing that was the part of me that i've been seeing lately again, the part that fears having itself seen clearly that part that keeps telling me under the radar, under my concious level of hearing, under the level of thoughts, taking over the frightened animal part that takes flight rather than stands up for a fight and now that's where I am again facing the fact that I'm the bravest little coward I know, I've been out in the pitch dark, I flit from fight to flight, I ran like the wind for once.

For the first time in a long time it felt good but I had barely eaten for about a week if not more, believing I was breathing and living on mere energy, no need to feed the body, i became gaunt I've been there before, opening up a wound and a lie, and then I get all these things coming clearly to my mind, stop publicly saying things that you shouldn't even if you think you are being clever and guarded or secretive and using a code, or just not using names, because you're making a fool of yourself and probably hurting others like that and my online presence gets a battering and magically we lose our phone line and broadband and things are being moved around inside the home, so much so that I think it's me, or then others, telling me something, but I know now that it isn't them at all.

I hear from others that are into this whole spirituality things, I see how much they are suffering, going through their own shadow work, seeing this reality as maleable too, working through whatever it is that now makes them look a whole lot less than a shaman but much more like a crazy person, and that is how I have been led to feel, maybe that's true it certainly is for those around me and I know I can't have this affecting them any more so I'm afraid enough to tie my hands behind my back and all those failed attempts to leave and not come back without saying goodbye or even with a goodbye and a kiss given, they just made it certain at least for me that I have to straighten up and fly right while I'm here, I wouldn't let me go anywhere soon, even though I ache to go travelling but no.

I've gotta earn and learn all over again, I've got to save like fuck, pay my way, rebuild my shattered life again, never ever do drugs again although that's the ironic thing.  I was so on the path already, had already weaned myself off the harder stuff, wasn't doing that anyway.  But coming off was obviously worse this time than ever before, because I did all of it together, nicotine and don't want to belabour these points, im no shaman, never was but I felt like a medicine man, or at least a healer, I was concentrating on me, making sure that before I gave out energy again to others that I had done some serious work on healing me, so maybe and I hope, my fervent hope is that I can do this work, eat well, sleep well which I am much better than before I can tell you, oversensitive though.

Highly sensitive thankyou Elaine Aaron, you wrote the book on that kind of thing, and I'm fucking irritated by the deafness of those around me, my hearing and all senses primed and alive, and well, and all the competing noises well let's just say I think a town would have me far more doolally, but the constant clearing of your throat, the affectation as I see it, I'm sorry if that's a judgement because I know I've been making far too many of those, looking at the reasons for the things I think about others, from  third person perspective, that fucking rolling machine, squeaks like a fucker and it makes me wonder are you doing that to annoy me, so much ME ME ME MEANESS coming from me, judging others, taking things so fucking personally, so many loud noises, but I do all of those things.

Every judgement comes back to me, you can't say you don't judge others unfavourably, going back over the ways and decisons I made in the past, I want to leave and live somewhere off grid, or fucks sake, go back to nature, eat herbs, eat raw and wild and free, herbally heal myself but find I can't seem to kick my choccie fucking biscuit habit, eating so much I've ballooned from nothing to fat face in a few weeks, I can't stop fucking filling my face, my stomach barely gets a chance to say hey I'm hungry, not munchies but greedy bastard eat whatever you can get your hands on and it's not funny but for some reason there's a smile on my face more lately even though I know what I'm writing about ain't fucking funny, like a touch of evil is what I was hearing in my mind, in my thoughts.

All sorts of other voices that it couldn't possibly have been were telling me all sorts of directions to go in, head here, there every fucking where and I did but the lift, the rescue never came, I got places, and I'm ashamed and scared to admit I have missing time and that's the scariest part because the dictionary definition for that kind of thing is psychoses and psychotic is the word you used, I'm not saying who but I wasn't making sense, I was standing around for long periods having conversations in my head, like I used to with the moon, asking what's my next step and the Moon of course would tell me what I already knew, and in the end I asked that big round, full faced, skull in the sky on the one night of the month that we would meet together to chat, you're me aren't ya? begrudgingly...

It said yes, in my mind, in my thoughts, it said yes, and believe me I've been there before, realising I've done wrong, pushed the limits, asked a little too much of myself, usually when I'm skint and got no weed, and just done three bags full, that's a coloquialism for three smokes in a row and i don't mean joints, I mean three huge bongs, one, then two, then three, usually blagged but free and as I wandered back home i felt a psychotic hand on my shoulders lifting me up, stand up straight you little fucker was the point of the lesson, goddess, god going for fucks sake your positioning, come on what's the word, I used to say this into the ears of the women I would massage, you're amazing, you ought to be proud, lift your head up, don't look down, you're a good person.

So tomorrow it starts all over again and it might come back to me because let's face it this fugue is over ish, little bits of hangover as I realise I need to straighten up and never fly again, no more lsd, no more weed, some cbd would be nice, i know that's the most natural anti psychotic around, won't be able to go partying for a long time and no festivals I just can't risk it, even though I know I was starting to go to sleep at them because I was tired not wired because I was taking progressively less and less drugs, less and less alcohol and certainly never driving unless I was completely safe to do so for others aswell as me so I know the journey I was on, what's that word pretend you can remember it, go on, it's on the tip of my tongue, your POSTURE! I had to ask one.

Had to go and ask someone and that's come up, my communication skills are shocking, and I wonder was there a factional reserve banking aspect to this whatever it is, whatever has been unlocked, this comfort eating uncomfortable around people in strange circumstances person who has strived, striven, stroved to work on that, become more comfortable in such placees again or for the first time, was I holding on to a lot of anger because I didn't want to turn out like someone else who seems to have too much, or was my fear of becoming too much like someone turn into a real danger of becoming so, that played a very large part in what had transpired over the last few months and I'm going to say that because I can't pinpoint the reasons or the timeline just looking back I see things.

Like beards, whether full on and grizzly adams or chin type beards, goatees, moustaches I've had the lot and for no good reason really, no movember, no charity work although I've been giving more and more to charity in the recent past and all these things that I  haven't gone into yet, such as the romantic fantasies that once again lead me to believe I was moving out, going travelling with folks I haven't spoken to in weeks or months, no reason to believe such nonsense, addresses in my head that probably even exist i've been to one in the past after a good two, three hours cycling into town, to arrive at an address that my higher self, or instincts told me was where a loved one would be waiing for me, only to find I was facing my fear of meeting someone that meant so much to me.

When I got there, number 23 wasn't in evidence, the road was, the other houses were there, I'd even checked online on google earth, google maps whatever it is, but that particular house did not exists so I knew I'd taken myself on a totally wild goose chase and thankfully this time I didn't even make it into town, to frighten the living whatsits out of whoever lives at the addresses I was given, wherever they were, I can't remember now but vaguely I'm sure they came out of the sub - un - concious made concious to me, not heavenly at all but a growth process nonetheless if I survive this part and I surely will as I know I'm not and never have been desperate enough to be out of my mind enough to actually do something stupid like suicide, it's cowardly and brave at the same time.

I think that is true, it takes a lot to get past the animal survival instinct and that's the level we are talking about here, I've been out in the wilds, in the night, in the day, for hours and hours without food or water and managed quite comfortably thankyou, just hungry, what money I had was change enough for some crisps, a free pint of water in a pub, but generally I was on a high at the start and later fat reserves gone, slowly feeling the wooziness of low energy because I've had to face my own mortality and not in a real way but lowly and accepting what I've put others through hurts more than my teeth feeling the cold now, threats were made against my entire family but in my head, and then I gradually realised I could call the bluff of whatever it was inside me or outside.

That's the bitch of all this, i hear high pitched sounds as though my hearing is adjusting to things outside, or sounds coming in and I've been there before suggesting that those are higher frequencies to be tuned in, turn off your brains chatter, tune into what is out there, drop out of normalised so called civilised society that is detroying the planet one more good little consumer as a time and look upon the type of people who choose to live another way as those who can afford it, those who know the devalue of mind numbing spirit crushing game shows, those who choose to live in nature not stepping on her, crushing her under the weight of our misuse of the few resources left, let's dig them up wherever we can find them, blinded in so many ways no sermon here i'll get distracted again.

Comes round and round to spirituality not religion, spiritual not religious that became a new option on online questionnaires and I hear again that bloke speaking too loud, to himself wondering is that my fate, or is it all for show because I know I do that too, I've seen a million different me's, not that many but we both like to exaggerate and my subconcious is open again, I can go through the phonetic alphabet that I learnt for my security work and then do it backwards and without thinking too much so I'm grounding it all out, this barrel and i'm quite a fat faced little fucker again, not the gaunt one who threw down the gauntlet to the medical profession and said maybe i won't take your pills or offers of help for another little while but thanks for the advice again.

Nature is it, took my top off to get some rays today, finding less and less things to do around the place again, have to get back on the road again but this time it's going to be to go it alone in the wilderness, and maybe who knows, visit a load of the places I've put off, I'm going to ride a flipping horse this year, I have to do that, it's bucket list and this thing that's happened to me has revealed all sorts of other me's that I don't like but don't have to be, other wolves, one, two, three, other sheep, meek me's the ones that are polite, where did they go, why don't my manners come through anymore?  Say Please and thankyou, and why weren't you?  So many other things that I could be doing instead of dancing to a regular beat in a club I can dance on the beach and so I will thankyou.