Hey guys –
As always, it’s difficult for me to keep a steady schedule. I tend to fill my life with so much shit that I find myself going from 7am to 10pm, waking up, and doing it all over again. I go into survival mode, seeking out mindless games and naps wherever I can to ease my stress. I will endeavor very hard to not make this mistake in my upcoming semester. I will be focusing on my writing somewhat, to make some pocket change(not here, but elsewhere) – and as a result, I should be able to get a few posts out here and there.
In any case, what I wanted to write about today was a personal shortcoming of mine. My high priest and I were discussing something the other day. Well, we were arguing. I can’t even remember what about. But it seemed like every five seconds for the span of three weeks, I was angry at him for something else. As you may well know, my high priest also serves as my boyfriend. So our personal lives intermingle with the teacher-student relationship, and the fight may have started out about the relationship, but it ended up in the spiritual realm.
In any case, he paused, and determined that part of me had “fallen asleep” in the last few years, and it had gone completely unnoticed by both of us. I did not believe him. That night, I took it upon myself to review journal entries from eight years ago until about three years ago, when I kept a relatively consistent journal. He was right. At some point, probably the point where I determined that I “lost my innocence,” I changed. I went from worrying about the meanings of my dreams to worrying about getting enough sleep. I went from worrying about what magical messages and creative depths could be found within my ritual and magical life to barely being awed at the beauty of the full moon.
I call this part of me the cynic. You can see it in my past entries, here, as well. It’s a part of me that’s been fighting for dominance for a long time. I’ve always had this dual nature. I’ve called it logic and emotion. They’re very, very separate for me. Left brain, right brain. At some point, my creativity disappeared.
I think I have an idea of when that may have been. My freshman year of college, the first weekend away from home. I’m not sure if I ever spoke of the experience on this blog, but I’ll briefly summarize it here. My roommates went to party, and I went to bed. When they came home, they brought two young men with them. I was on the bottom of a bunk bed, in a triple room. The other bed was next to ours. These two girls, they spoke about how what if I woke up, decided that they didn’t care, and proceeded to have sex above and next to me for about two hours.
I was so naieve. I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t move. I was angry, then scared, then vengeful. I spent half that time, even the rest of the night, begging in my head, pleading for someone to call me and stop this madness. No one did. When sunrise came, I packed up and went home for the remainder of the weekend. I felt mind-raped. The next year was spent in a passive-aggressive battle with these two girls for my rights to the room. It ended when I threatened to sue them with copyright infringement, libel and religious discrimination, for photocopying a piece of my book of shadows and sharing it with their sorority.
It doesn’t matter. I’ve never been one to delve into my past and give myself a hug. It happened. Moaning about it won’t change anything. But that’s the moment, if there ever was one, where part of me shut down. The moment when I stopped being able to write as well. Sing new songs.
Add the trauma of such a dramatic lifestyle change(home–>college) to a science major courseload, and logic reigned supreme. I can’t even successfully visualize things right now.
Anyway, that’s the other part. The task I’ve been gifted with. I am to visualize myself climbing up a rope. I have to keep climbing until I go somewhere. That’s what pissed me off and made me search my journal entries and made me realize that indeed, part of me had gone silent somewhere along my path.
Are you asleep or awake? It’s a choice we all make, at one point or another. Sometimes it slips right by us. So here I am, to grab anyone else who is listening and give them a shake, so they don’t have to go, “Oh, shit!” three years down the road. Life is short. Use your full capacity.
I shut down because I was hurting. My boyfriend disappeared for weeks at a time. His maximum was three months. My home was a constant battlefield. And at my home-home(not college), I was having to deal with needy pets and sick family members. I gained weight. I had a job with a 2 hour commute everyday. There are so many reasons that part of me disappeared. But it’s time to get it back, and I’m glad that someone clued me in.
I hope this day finds you well, and that you are aware, alive, and happy.