Imagine yourself lying in bed. It’s dark, but you know how to see in the dark. Imagine a person sleeping next to you. You love this person, and they say they love you. Imagine their powerful arm drapes over your body, you should feel warm, protected, but you don’t. Instead, you feel bitterness, scared, conflicted, confused and trapped. Now imagine a pillow behind your head. Your lover’s head rests on this warm comfy pillow they snore loudly. Where’s their other arm? It has to go somewhere, right? You are. It lurks under pillow. Now imagine a gun under the pillow. Imagine your lover’s heavy hand grips it, much like you. Now imagine this gun underneath the pillow with your lover’s hand on it pointed at you while they sleep. Now try to sleep.
I’ve tried to be what you want me to be. I’ve tried to fix you and me. I’ve tried to hurt you as you did me. I’ve tried to make you happy. I’ve tried to make myself happy. I’ve tried to change you. I’ve tried to change me. I’ve tried to be you. I’ve tried to be me. The crazy thing about trying is trying. It’s exhausting, tiring, and doesn’t always work if I apply the same kind of try, expecting the result to be different.
Insanity
Do or die
Might
I feel something that doesn’t feel good, dare I say not right. I feel a tremendous pull from mediocrity suppressing my Might. Do you want to know what my superpowers are? I do too, that’s why I keep going, though I am aware of a few. One of the superpowers I’m most in touch with is the ability to stay in touch… with myself. You may think, That’s not a superpower. That’s just being intuitive. But let me ask you, how do you harmonize you? Do you?
In Tune
I was in the ER a few months ago. Panic disorder is a Sonofabitch. I thought I mastered it. I haven’t yet. I may never. Idk. What’s fucked up about the panic is its trickiness. It’s clever. It tests you: What’s real? What ain’t? I think I’ve got shit down then BOOM! I’m in that place, the ER, where ironically all the babes are. Who knew midnight on Fridays is babe town at the High Dez Medical Center? I told Doc, I know I may not be coming from my right Mind, but it’s too hard this time … I’m fading into a semi-catatonic state. My neurotransmitters were working overtime, too many messages and messengers. The Doc moves me to a bed, and I wait.
Nurses check my vitals, put IVs in my arms if dehydrated, take blood for testing. I lay there, motionless, staring at the ceiling when I notice a sprinkler has a tiny piece of string caught in it. It’s mesmerizing —string and sprinkler whirl around each other, dancing. And then it happens… Time stops. All becomes quiet, calm, still, inside and outside of me, and it is here, lying on an ER bed in babe town, I discovered my imagination didn’t want to kill me. On the contrary, it took me to that place (the ER) because I wasn’t listening. Once I heard the call, it grabbed my totality and carried me to another place, this place, no longer terrifying. I was in complete unison. I was Harmony.
I continued watching string and sprinkler dance, frequently transforming, for the remainder of my stay, 2.5 hours exactly.
There wasn’t anything “wrong” with me, so when Doc asked if I had any more questions, I shook my head, wrapped up with the lady at the front desk, called a cab, and for the first time in YEARS, sat in the back of a car at 3 am watching the Dez roll past me.
It was all a dream…
When I got home, I slept on and off for 36 hours.
Two days later, I discovered I was part deer. When deers feel threatened, they shut down. Their muscles contract, and their heart rate and breathing reduce as they fall unconscious and become stiff—APPARENT DEATH. Many animals do this. When the “predator” believes the prey is dead, it leaves, and when it does, the prey awakens and runs away. There’s also tonic immobility—another response to extreme threat, like being captured by a (perceived) predator (my Mind in this case).
Apparent death and tonic immobility are fear-motivated stress states and what happens to me from time to time. Idk why per see, maybe it’s due to these cells, memories, and or when my Soul (or another’s) CALLS ME. I’m a pipeline. What can I say? This little life ain’t just mine. But check it; something else happens. After my muscles contract, after my mind attacks, and Idk if this happens to my four-legged people, but when I accept my fate, even if it’s fake, I surrender, enter a bliss state like watching string dance with sprinkler. Remember?
DOES IT DANCE?!
Pay attention motherfucker! I have heard this a lot lately. I don’t always want to accept everything I hear and or see. I can fight, push away because it feels painful, frightening. Then there’s the mental energy it takes to overcome feelings of hopelessness which at times is exhausting. I can feel beat down—woe is me, the ups and downs can hit hard, so I reprogram again and again. All my life, most likely. But you know? It’s not easy to let go until it is. It’s not easy to PAY ATTENTION MOTHERFUCKER until you do. I’ve been working from top to bottom and feel ready for lift-off (again). That usually requires me to be silent and to pay attention. Silence doesn’t mean shutting up; it means I have nothing to say. I’m listening. Here’s something pretty cool: Silent and Listen are the same (letters).
Fighting to win my Soul
When I started this piece three years ago, I set out to define Might, yet over the years, I felt paralyzed. I’d write and write, but nothing felt right. My work kept turning the tables on me, throwing me back at me. I mean, I knew what I was getting into, my work changes me, but I had no idea just how much I would fight Might. Might hasn’t always been my bestie, just as truth ain’t always a friend. I felt like I couldn’t live with or without certain parts of myself. I saw (and felt) how difficult it was to let go of who I am not, thinking I can be, and who I am, thinking I won’t be. And so, for days, weeks, months, years, this piece gradually broke me, just as my Mind did in the ER. This piece told me, stop trying to be worthy, as it sometimes gently, other times forcefully, turned me back into nothing.
Unleash release
Might’s on me. Let go of the story. Let go of conclusions. Let go of the past/present/future if you’re gonna use it against and not for you. But I’m a natural-born fighter. I even thrive most times (fighting), yet when I stop fighting, resisting reality, I see clearly, recognizing all sides, struggles, positions, the shit, the fuckery, are rites of passages, obstacles meant to go through so I may level up and continue. This piece revealed how much I can still fight my destiny. To “grow up,” break free. Moksha. Liberation. Apeiron. Thermodynamics. The Void. Nothing.
The mucho mighty obstacle is me.
Growing up demands I sacrifice my old self, ways, roles, identity to give way to the new(ing)—the expansion of Mind, Soul, body, listening, and following true(ing). Die before you die, transforming. When I was in the ER, I kept hearing, None of this matters. There’s no point. To anything. It wasn’t a suicidal moment; it was a clue.
Death time or time to be alive?
There are plenty of reasons I shouldn’t be alive. Plenty of times I tried not to be. And plenty of times, other people did their best to ruin me, my life. I’ll quickly add, that little imagining session I had you do in the beginning? Based on a true story. Abuse takes on many shapes, like Might. You can say those two dance too. Which one are you?
If you think you deserve anything, life will be very disappointing. There will always be someone or something you’re a slave to, tangible or not. You will manipulate Might, damaging yourself and harming others. I speak from experience, and to warn you. But what if you’re the kind of person who thinks they don’t deserve anything? (And we ain’t talkin’ humility) I say reread those sentences. Might is neither deserved nor not deserved. The difference is force.
Speaking of force, my work is the master attacker. IT NEVER BACKS DOWN. It’s here, there, wherever I go, whomever I’m with, alone, doesn’t matter, from sunup to sundown, and all in between, HERE I AM! -my work never lets me out of its sight or get away from It (me.) There are days I envy people who aren’t like me. Plenty of days. Plenty of days, I feel so enslaved I can’t fucking do anything. The messed-up part isn’t the work. It’s going against (what is.) I still push myself to the edge of the cliff, daring her: HEATHER, JUMP IN!
If I go within and standstill I feel like a caged animal, and that Might will turn destructive if contained against its will. Some days it’s more complicated than others, but I know I have a choice in who I am. By nurturing all aspects of myself, allowing my animality to flourish, not by dominating, defeating, or conquering, but by unifying, I close my escape routes and face my destiny head-on.
I admire people who transform themselves without trying to change anybody. So, I take notes. I cultivate the courage to be, the courage to disobey, and the courage to give it all away. Someone asked me the other day, “What do you do?” Heal me I replied. That may sound noble. I’m not trying to be, but I contribute something special to this world, Authenticity when I do. And the same goes for you.
I still haven’t mastered being here for me or there for you without it fucking me all up from time to time. Like that ER visit, but I lean into and step out from worlds, a bit lighter and more emphatic. Still, if I always have difficulty distinguishing the real from the imaginary, that’s fine by me. I remember one time I bought smokes, handed the clerk a 100 dollar bill. She took a pen to it, I asked why. To see if it’s real or fake, I wondered out loud what the difference was. She just looked at me, confused, handing me my change. You see my point, don’t you?
Process and Thing
I’m interested in life delivering the message. I enjoy learning new ways and applying the ones I practice, like continuously taking away what I am sure of about myself (and you). It’s not always pleasant, this interest or practice. It can be brutal as fuck. I don’t feel (love) all the time, and it’s not easy for me to (love) people; they do fucked up shit, but so have I, so can I, and thereby the grace of God goes I. All this means is we’re the same intrinsically. There is no other. But who knows? I could be wrong about everything. Perhaps love isn’t loving at all. I mean, I can hate as much as I love. What about you?
Wild Country -The Evolution of Pain
Listen, I’m not always in my right mind, omg, are you? But the need to carry my past (or yours) from place to place is ending. Why did I hold on to it? I needed to until I didn’t. NBD.
Are you carrying your past? Someone else’s? People can use anything and everything against instead of for. Oh, wait, now we’re dipping into something I’m saving for my next piece, Casual Slaughter. It’s about Betrayal.
History remains the same because people do.
Something you may not know about me: When I see numbers, I add them up until they become one. I’ve done this forever. A number is a powerful thing. IDK, maybe it’s my nature to be one. Maybe I have multiple destinies in this little life. That’s why it’s the practice of myself. I fail. Fuck up. Fall only to pick up from where I left off and start again. And then there’s The Mystery I fell into years ago or did The Mystery dive into me? Whatever the case, The Mystery changed parts of me who misunderstood my destiny.
… And The Mystery continues.
My Soul knows I was born to do certain things in the world and directs me. I know I have to do these things because they’re becoming more evident. I feel a greater destiny awaits me, so I do, and I trust. Not in someone or something, just trust(ing). Yes, this leaves me vulnerable to pain, but I’m comfortable being a lamb as much as I am a wolf these days.
Must lose yourself to win yourself
I sense Might day and night. It doesn’t disappear. It may take another shape, but Might is always right fucking here. I know this because I am here. And maybe you know too because you’re here. Through the years of writing this, I realized Might never left me. It appeared in many different obstacles and opportunities. Might was with me when I lost everything, including my mind, when I left abusive relationships and didn’t become like those who hurt me. Might was with me in hospitals, psych wards, rehab, alone in different countries, and when I didn’t have a home for many years. Might was there when people used my situation against me, betraying (during a pandemic)… Speaking of the pandemic, Might was by my side while below poverty lines navigating me through the fear of not knowing. Most significantly, Might led me to ask for help, replacing self-destructing ways with being there for others and learning how to be here for myself. Sometimes it’s too hard to live, so Might says, Remember the hotline. Remember the others. It’s ok if you feel and think these kinds of things. I think you’re amazing.
Thanks, Might 🙂
My Might isn’t about control or defining. If we set out to control and define everyone and everything, we miss great opportunities for psychic evolving, expansion, and unity. We miss “It.” Might has been enduring for me, suffering, yet Might reveals what it wants me to be, FREE, allowing what is (me).
Might is here with me as I let go so I may cross the threshold and not look back. I’m excited and also a bit terrified to see what my Might has in store for me. If you’re struggling, suffering, please know, if Might is on my side, it is on your side too.
I’ll leave you with a secret: The secret is inside the wound.
xx-h->
TheRecoveringLife 