Like many others of my generation, I grew up in a family that didn’t talk about anything. Shhhhh. what might the neighbors think? There were horrible arguments in my home growing up as the child of an alcoholic. And without fail, a day or two later, after the “Sounds of Silence,” people would break it and act as if nothing ever happened and simply go on with their lives. On occasion, there would be days, weeks or even months that went by and not a word was spoken. What happens to all that energy not expelled, all that tucked into the cells of our beings – festering in the “Sounds of Silence?”
I truly hope at some point that the numerous people who have criticized me over the years for this or that or whatever the fuck they thought MY problem was, will read these blogs or my upcoming book and possibly understand on a deeper level what it is actually like to grow up in a household with constant trauma as a über sensitive soul. When a child is so young and vulnerable, they have no way of defending their self from the ENERGY of ANGER, of RAGE of constant discord in an environment that molds them. A child should be in a happy and nurturing environment always. (Example, children are sensitive to energy just like animals are. They are pure souls without defense mechanisms. That is what makes them so beautiful, their innocence. Over the course of the last days since I found out about my sister’s death, I have had to shelter my sweet Mona from my immense emotional expulsions of grief. When I first found out about Barb’s death, the sounds that were exiting my body were none I have ever made before. And because I have done SO MUCH WORK to be at my level of self-awareness, I know that to suppress is to get sick. SO I FUCKING LET IT OUT!!! Depression on many levels, is simply anger and/or sadness turned inward. And I am NEVER going back there. NEVER. So if I need to emote, I am going to do so in a safe environment so that the ENERGY coming from me is not absorbed by anyone around me, 2 or 4 legged.)
The intention of writing and publishing a book about my journeys in life is not about EGO gratification. Rather it’s about real life experiences that people who suffer/struggle from any kind of trauma, mental health issue or addiction can hopefully relate to. It’s for people who are in recovery, and no, I am not just talking about drugs and alcohol. It’s intended for people who have been victims of abuse, of domestic violence, people who struggle with abuse of ANY kind, people who have been victims of homophobia, people who have suffered or currently suffer from mental illness, depression, anxiety, or more other serious diagnosis. I’m simply writing so that I can help others through REAL LIFE EXPERIENCES, not hypothetical ones. So many self help books have been written on recovery that come from a clinical standpoint, people who have studied all of the aforementioned soul sicknesses. And although more are rapidly emerging, in comparison, there have been few that are written from actual life experiences. I do believe this is the new form of “therapy.” Instead of going to have “treatment” with someone that has a bunch of letters behind their name, the recovery coaches of the new age are going to simply hang a shingle out that says. “My name is so and so and I have been through the HELL and back.” And they won’t charge $175 per hour, yet if one doesn’t have that idiotic green stuff we all value so much in this life, the door will still be open – sliding scale and FREE if people do not have money and need help. This is my way I can give back to humanity. Because after all, that is WHY we are here, to be of service to our fellow humans and our planet. End of story.
So, in closing this brief musing today, I hope that by reading my real life accounts of being IN it and moving THROUGH it, people can find a life of freedom, liberation, and experience the true nature of their soul, a happiness and bliss that is not BECAUSE of anyone or anything outside of ourselves. IT IS JUST BECAUSE IT IS OUR GODDAMN BIRTH RIGHT! Namasté