Before the Breathwork - Saturday
The voices in my head are back. I’m aware that they are not real, but it doesn’t make what they say any less impactful. They claw at my head, at my mind, desperately reaching to drag me into the shadows, into the darkness, and leave me feeling alone, nothing, empty.
My counselor said something to me yesterday that got me thinking. He said that when you make big realizations, and let more light into you, that light helps you see what is buried in the darkness and in the shadows. So it is common to bring up some heavy emotional shit, after coming across such positive realizations. After contemplating this a bit, I came to an understanding that if, by this logic, this is true, then the opposite must equally be true. If I consciously decide to dive deep into the darkness and all of it, the self-hatred, the suicidal ideation, the shame, I might come out of it all with my sole purpose for living… Love. This experiment is just that, an experiment, and I could quite possibly not make it to the other side intact. My self-hatred runs deep. That much, I do know. What I don’t know is how deep. If I pull on that thread, will I completely unravel?
This thought does scare me, particularly because of how I’ve decided to go through with this experiment. You see, I know I’ve completely exhausted the love of the people around me. I can’t tell my husband my plans because he would inevitably go into a depression of his own, as he takes on the emotions of the people around him. I can’t tell my best friends because I don’t think they would understand. More importantly, I can’t put this kind of shit on them. It’s too much. And I can’t tell my counselor…I just can’t. There is so much to say about why I can’t, part of it is dark and maybe I will speak of it tonight, but mainly, there is such love and care there. I can’t genuinely and consciously put him through such heartache. I think it would be more than he could handle. It is time for me to give him space, set him free. I can’t truly express the love I do have for him without learning how to love myself first.
I have this image in my head of what I would look like when I do love myself. It is the most beautiful thing I have ever fantasized about. I yearn for that. I look forward to that. This experiment will take place tonight. I’m dog sitting, so I will be in a private space of solitude and I will allow myself to dive head first, into the darkness, into the shadows. It will either kill me, make me crazy, or I will come out the other side with no darkness left, only light. Obviously, I hope for the latter, but at this point, I’m willing to give it a shot. Honestly, I don’t want to live this life anymore if I have to live with this hatred for myself. It’s not worth the ride. In this experiment, I will unpack all the negative voices, listen to them and write about what they say to me. My hope is that eventually, they will run out of things to say.
The most incredible feeling in the world is being in love. I’m in love with each and every one of my friends, and I dream of falling in love over and over again. But love is a two way street. It is painful to fall in love and it not be returned. This has been a big part of my lifelong story, for many reasons. The biggest reason, however, is that I never gave myself the advantage because I never learned how to fall in love with myself. I know that now. I say this because I understand that if I want the world to fall in love with me, then I must first fall in love with myself. I know both to be true and I know both to be exactly what I want. Thus, my purpose with this experiment is to either fall in love with myself or die trying.
So here we go…
You’re ugly, Adriana. Why?
Because you are fat…
YOU think people will ever see you as beautiful?
YOU’RE A JOKE!
You’re annoying too! You talk way too much. You’re a complainer…
No one cares what you have to say.
YOU are a miserable excuse for a human being.
I don’t even know why you bother living. But even death is too good for you.
Everyone tolerates you.
You think you deserve love? What a joke!
Go crawl into a hole and die!
Cut yourself! (No)
Cut yourself! (NO)
Those tiny little wrists of yours? SLIT THEM!
Piece of shit!
You are not worthy of love! You are not worthy of a life!
Die, BITCH! (Shut Up!)
SLIT THEM…You know how!
The world would be so much lighter without you in it.
Who do you think you are? You’re nothing.
You are broken!
You are empty!
(What do you have left to say? I’m listening!)
Piece of shit!
Piece of shit!
PIECE OF SHIT!!
You will never know love because you are too worthless for anyone to love you.
FUCK YOU! (Fuck you!)
Don’t let her out! She will just get raped again…
(Is that what you think?)
Yes! If we continue to hate her, she won’t come out.
Death is better than being raped.
We are so ashamed.
(I’m so sorry.)
(Know that I love you. I love her. I will protect her.)
(Talk to me…)
The voices have left me now. I feel light, like air, as if I am that balloon again about to float away. I’m woozy, drunk from my own realization. I will take this to breathwork tomorrow. I’m alive and I feel free.
During Breathwork - Sunday
I’m drunk with love right now, self love. I’ve never felt more satisfied, more happy to exist. I feel beautiful and rich with ecstasy for myself. I never want this feeling to end. I’m reminded by the advice I give others, “Enjoy the moment.” For however long or short, just enjoy this moment. I feel blissful, rejuvenated, sexy, in love. I don’t need approval; I don’t need to be desired. I am desire. I’d like to open up to the woman inside. I’d like to get to know her, fall in love with her, fuck her. She is the muse I desire to be. She is the beautiful fucking diamond in my rough body. I know she is scared because she has never been seen, hiding in the shadows. But I’ve got you girl! Hold my hand. We will do this together. Walk with me.
After Breathwork - Monday
I took a walk yesterday with this hidden creature. She has lived in the shadows for so long that she is white from lack of sun. Her pure heart and childlike innocence were radiating through her translucent skin with so much light that you could see her skeletal structure underneath, the blue of her veins, her crimson blood. We walked together, inside myself, out of the darkness but still in the shade of the shadows. I could tell she was frightened.
“Come join me!” I said, as we held hands together.
I could literally feel her resistance. My hands tensed up and I couldn’t stop the contortion of them, like an old woman whose fingers were warped by arthritis. It was uncontrollable. My whole body was vibrating and I began to take on her fear. She didn’t want to step out; she didn’t want to be vulnerable. Afterall, she has lived too long in the darkest of places, hiding from all the demons. I tried to tell her that it was going to be okay but her fear was real. It was as real as the vibration in my body, as real as my morphed hands.
I had a sip of water and dove into the breath, focused on it with extreme precision.
I said to her, “I’m so sorry.”
I said to her, “You didn’t deserve to be locked away.”
I said to her, “The only person you belong to is me, and if you let me, I will love you forever. I promise.”
She took my hand and stepped into my body, merging with all of it. I could physically feel the light radiating throughout our body. My hands released; my feet unfurled. I became one with her and she with me. My heart opened so wide and love began to pour out of me like golden lava from an active volcano. I erupted and it was filling up the room. It was thick. It was the most powerful, purest, most peaceful moment I have ever encountered, and in fact, has not yet left me. I can feel my Self glowing in love. I am present.
“Now let me show you how to use your love,” I effeminately said to her, a smile of lust upon my face.
The music got louder and I showed her how to move, how to dance. I had her touch me as I touched her. She was feeling this physical body for the first time, and like a virgin excited for this moment, she was taking her time. Her hands delicately caressed her skin, tits and hips. And even though there was still an element of domination there, it wasn’t about him and me; it was about she and me. I was making love to her, penetrating her ever so gently with my soul. We were one and I took my time with her. Treated her like the angel she is.
When she orgasmed, it was sweet. Not like when I let him truly dominate me, when it is about us. That is larger, more erotic. Fire. This was different. The simple story of virginity lost. You could see the color change in her skin, on her cheeks. It got pinker, like I was giving her life through pleasure. Afterwards, I laid there in the peace, in the sweetness of her. I had just popped her cherry and was tasting the fruit from her blossoming tree. I went somewhere, somewhere hypnotic, somewhere restful.
In this nothingness, I was floating in love and warmth and peace. I truly am at a loss of words here as I cannot explain it. It was dark but there was so much light all at the same time. I was one. There were a few times I forgot to breathe and came back to the physical world gasping for air. Finally, when my counselor had us come back to the group, I almost didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay in this heaven, in this peace forever. Nothing mattered there but the love I was feeling. I was filled. I am filled. I’m woozy with love and as I continue this journey, I can feel as if I leave a trail of love behind me, like a snail leaves his goo.
I thought that when I came to a place of self love… actually, I don’t even know what I thought, or honestly, if there were any real expectations that I would even get here. But I guess I imagined that maybe I wouldn’t be as sexually charged(?). The opposite is true. I’m hungry, carnivorous. I’m humming with sexual energy as if I could have an orgasm at any moment, though there’s a slight caveat now (only slight). Find the worthy, the ones who will be able to give me true pleasure, who will serve me, drink from the fountain of youth between my thighs; those souls will be a lot harder to find. I can’t wait for it! I’m horny for it, lustful for it. I’m finally ready to feel what I’ve always wanted, true love.
About the author
I am an ever-changing ameba of creative thought that transcends any specific genre. My writing is spiritual in nature, but I tend to traverse my way through many realms: like fantasy, fiction, non-ficiton, experiential and erotica.