I shouldn't wish death on anyone
December 10th, 2014
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I feel like using phones will never become comfortable. I've tried to change that a lot this past year. I recall over a decade ago when I loved phone use.
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But I feel like to become comfortable with phone conversations I'd need to become a prodigious liar... Because seriously, how tiresome would it be for me to say, "I'm having an anxiety attack... Bye." Or worse, "I'm tired of being misunderstood and repeating myself uselessly. Forget about it. Send an e-mail. Bye." I have even tried the second one before, but it didn't go over well.
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[five days later]
.I feel distinctly off this morning. I slept for nearly eleven hours.
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I don't feel particularly hungry. My stomach is flat, at last. I finally make it through a day where I didn't over eat (yesterday). Probably sounds vain and like an eating-disorder to anyone reading this... Well, yeah, its been an eating disorder since I was ten, at least - eating to push away the feelings. I was only overweight for a few years, when I was eating for distraction as well as eating a processed-food diet of chips, fries and cereal.
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Nobody would call me fat now, except perhaps a person who has a stick-figure standard.
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I bought the Young Living essential oil blend "Raven." I was guided to do so while doing a meditation on my lungs. I was meditating to answer this question, "Why I'm so sensitive to chemical odors? And how can I stop?"
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I was told I need to steam my face (and inhale lots of steam) at least daily, smell "Raven" at least daily, and keep hydrated. I saw a coating of black stuff on the inside of my lungs. Perhaps from cleaning up after the house fire when I was fifteen, perhaps from clam-baking with so much pot when I was sixteen, perhaps partly from growing up in a dirty city in general... Whatever the reason, the stuff is there, and steaming helps it come out.
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I am skeptical about essential oils. I like how they smell... But I don't like how everyone who uses them or knows about them has a very strong opinion about what brand is best, or how the other brands are really bad. Even people who are not characteristically that way.
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Oryx says that Young Living is "better than organic" and the highest quality out there, and that DoTerra is just a bad knock-off brand that uses a process that creates oils that aren't safe. This is weird for her to be so strong-voiced about it when she has not seen the facilities personally (as far as I know).
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And then Ocimum says people he respects have nothing nice to say about Young Living, and apparently their oils are "weak" or something.
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Who knows if that is true or not. I mean, how could one tell using human senses if an essential oil is contaminated, thereby making it seem stronger, or if one is pure, making it seem stronger or weaker, who knows... Paladin tried ingesting Aura Cacia brand oregano oil and it made his stomach hurt, where as the Young Living one did not. That could be a matter of strength, that could be a matter of less purity. How can we know?
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The Aura Cacia brand rosemary essential oil upset my stomach when I put too much in my cashew cheese, but then again, the bottle says it isn't for internal use. I have not ingested any of it since then, and only use it for my home-made hair conditioner.
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The NOW brand lavender essential oil works great on sunburns, just like the Young Living lavender does. So far I have not noticed a difference, but I have not tried a test side-by-side on the same sunburn, so I have no proof one way or another.
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Dancing Chef, a woman I respect a lot, promotes both DoTerra and Young Living, and doesn't seem to have a preference that I've heard thus far. Maybe she is trying to solve the mystery as well.
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Oryx says there have been flame wars between DoTerra and Young Living, and maybe that is the cause of much issue.
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In summary, I'm reserving judgment... Yet I am concerned. This Young Living "Raven" blend sits before me on my desk. Did I overpay for it? Is it quality? Would my meditation have led me to a different option if I had known of more options?
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I feel like writing about all of that must have been a distraction... I'm really distressed about something. I felt it last night but couldn't connect with it, and so I went to sleep and slept for ages.
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In a dream I had I was being made to watch a video where a man's torso was visible. A measuring tape was laid out beside his penis. A small mouse with a string around its neck was also (apparently) measuring his penis with a string. On the screen a large funny-shaped dildo was shown. It had a mushroom-sort of head, but smoother than a mushroom. It was put into the man's ass and his penis grew several inches longer as a result, proven by the measuring tape (and the mouse?). Then a hand comes onto the screen sets the penis on fire - it still did not go soft. The fire went out and he wasn't burned or harmed. He had not screamed.
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After watching this bizarre movie I was brought to my husband. Paladin had had a similar thing done to him while I was made to watch the video - minus the mouse and the fire. He was bashful about it, but wanted a dildo like the one that had been used on him, but was doubtful we could find such a thing. I told him I had seen "prostate stimulating toys" online, but they were expensive. We got into a discussion about all the things we should buy which are sex-toy related, like a turkey baster...
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That is all I remember of my dreams last night... Well, that and a random clip of dancing with some strangers in an unfamiliar house. I'm not sure what to make of it.
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I'm quite satisfied with the size of Paladin's penis, so I feel like that was not the focus of the dream, despite the mouse and the measuring tape. I'm really baffled by the mouse part, honestly. The only thing it brings to mind is that I've heard of torture involving mice, but the mouse wasn't doing anything.
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This was probably just my mind rebelling against my sexuality, yet again, being kept in a cage. Or at least, I assume it is being locked away, since I have not felt aroused much at all these past couple weeks.
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I feel distinctly weird. Like I'm being held captive in my own mind, shown one bizarre thought after another to prevent me from uncovering something.
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I seem to be neglecting to think about Oryx's near-death experience yesterday. She's had a life-threatening condition for over a year now. She's been on alternative treatments that have prolonged her life and made her stronger, but have failed to cure her in a timely, comfortable fashion. These treatments take up hours of her time and the time of others (primarily Hare, and somewhat Rooster) every single day.
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Yesterday Oryx and Hare and Rooster decided together that it was unsustainable to put so much time and money into it, and treatment stopped, knowing that it could result in Oryx's death. I was notified of this by text message. I called Oryx. I didn't have a feeling like she was going to die, and I didn't have fear that she was going to. I don't seem to be afraid of death, but I am very afraid of loss.
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Yes, there is something in me that doesn't want to look at my feelings about this. I felt my mind try to shift my attention to board games. I'm glad I'm not being distracted by thoughts of food this morning. Gosh, how much nicer life could be if I didn't ever use food as my escape. I'd save so much grocery money, my intestines would be so much healthier...
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Oh! Come on with these distractions.
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I need to process whatever it is I am hiding from myself and get on with my day because I really need to work today and earn money... Otherwise I'm in some deep do-do come the end of this year.
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...
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I still hate her... I'm not sure why... Well, no I do know. Saying "I don't know" is a filter. It is when one doesn't want to admit how torn-up and nonsensical one's own thoughts are.
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I hate Oryx for representing things I don't want to face within myself. She told me back on the island in the summer of 2013 that if I wasn't so needy all the time I could have more poly partners. She said it in a nicer way, and what she said was true to some extent...
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Then Oryx becomes the most needy person ever with her condition. And the part of me that feels like I don't get enough care, enough love, enough attention, enough service, enough gifts... Hates her for getting so much attention and care. But I don't want her damn disease. And Oryx doesn't really want her disease either. She wants the care she is getting without the disease, and so do I.
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Why do I have to be in pain to get help? Why can't I get help without being in pain? I guess it is because human compassion is kindled by seeing another person's suffering.
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I don't like seeing my reflection in Oryx. This egomaniac part of me that thinks my knowledge and my guidance is above others'. At least I've relinquished the idea that I'm on a mission to save the world. And here she comes along with her mission to save the world and I hate it. It is the sacrifice of freedom, the sacrifice of one's own harmony... Which can't ever save the world. The way to "save the world" is to save oneself first. Find one's own harmony.
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How can Oryx be in her own harmony when she has such an illness? Part of me believes strongly what is said in Conversations with God and in Autobiography of a Yogi and Teachings of the Masters of the Far East... These books say that illness can only come with our consent. We create every symptom to serve part of our needs. Part of me doesn't want to believe that, because it forces me to look at why I've given myself a lifetime of illness...
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It is because I don't know how else to be loved.
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Although Aloe Spine became very dear to me without ever being ill. She invited me over for lunch and unconditionally shared with Paladin and I. She made fancy gourmet raw foods that I could eat, even with all of my restrictions (like no olive oil, no sweeteners, no coconut, no onion, no garlic, and so on). This was, of course, done on Pea Sprout's income. He never begrudged it though, even though these lunches happened while he was at work. Such unconditional giving!
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When I told Aloe Spine about polyamory, she loved the idea. It wasn't for her, of course, and being nearly seventy and quite in love with Pea Sprout, she didn't need more lovers. Aloe Spine was so open to every thing, every idea, every kind thought, even those that were entirely contrary to her own.
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There is love and compassion without illness. There is...! I feel like I am trying to convince myself, yet not quite succeeding. My rational part is always trying to convince my emotions of things, and my emotions are deaf to anything but other emotions. So my rational part can point out Aloe Spine, but then it up to me to feel my love for Aloe Spine... And I must feel that I didn't form such love for her just because she made me delicious food... I loved spending time with her because I could be myself, loved for being myself.
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Is that what I am providing for Dolphin? Does she feel quite loving toward me because I have been so accepting of her? Why am I still so afraid to be fully myself around her?
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Ah. Because to be fully myself involves too much sexuality... I don't want her to feel that I'm just like all the losers who have used her for sex. And besides, I don't want to use her for sex. I'm not even sure I want to have sex with her at all, and I'm still unsure as to what it means for two women to have sex. I would like to touch her though. More so than on her head, or around her shoulders. I think?
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I'm getting distracted again from myself. I feel so keenly weird.
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I almost think I want Oryx to die. I was unhappy when I learned this morning (via another text) that Hare, Rooster and Oryx have started up treatment again after going without it for fifteen hours. It feels wrong to tie others up in service to someone who creates such a misery out of her desperate need for love. I'm projecting of course. If I were her, wouldn't I be brave enough to just die?
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But that's just it. Obviously she isn't go through this to die, she's going through this to move through her attachments, her feelings, her ideas about life and death. Or maybe that isn't so obvious.
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I'm having a lot of maya about this whole thing. I'm still mad at Paladin for touching her for so long while I watched. Yes, I asked for it, but god, I didn't think it would just go on and on. I could have said "please stop," but instead I attacked. And my hand still hurts furiously where I slammed my hand into his collar bone. That happened after I thought I had calmed down, after I had stopped attacking. After we had started to talk.
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I was expressing that I was upset he'd never touched me like that when I've wanted it for so long and I struck again without even realizing what I was doing. I was shocked by my own actions. I have not behaved like this in well over a decade, since I was in my early teens. It is no wonder I've had to repress my emotions! But would they really be so explosive if they had not been repressed in the first place? Ah, the irony.
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And now I feel like my own jealousy - which is really just a lot of fear - is unsafe to feel, lest I become violent again. More repression.
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But I'm coming out in other ways. I've been transparent to Dolphin, Starfish, and my mom and dad about my cravings - my food cravings. I still feel like sexuality isn't allowed. At least, not very allowed - not completely allowed.
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Dolphin and I talked yesterday about Gongchan, who had come over on Saturday (along with a couple other friends). Dolphin had spent the night on my futon. I mentioned Gongchan looking phenomenally strong. He had been showing us Chi Gong the day before.
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"It was hard not to notice. His shirt was so tight!" Dolphin exclaimed.
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"Yeah! I was like, seriously? Your pecks are like that?" I replied.
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"I was actually wondering if there was something going on between you and him," Dolphin said.
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I shook my head in response.
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"I like how you're discreet about it," Dolphin went on. "Like you're really polyamorous and..."
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"...and not just trying to sleep with a bunch of people," I finished her sentence.
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'Exactly!" Dolphin said.
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She was partly referring to how she'd have never known about Eagle and I if I hadn't mentioned it to her. She had seen Eagle around me but we hadn't been anything other than just cuddly friends.
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*sigh* I'm sad nothing really developed between Eagle and I. Another experiment with love that didn't work out.
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I'm rather afraid of this pattern repeating with Ocimum. I want it to be real. I want it to be deep. I want it to be authentic. I feel like it is, and like it will be, and yet I'm terrified that it won't be.
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I hate having so much fear. I sometimes wish I could just go back to the maya where I thought I didn't have fear. I thought I was just bursting with love, contentment, and satisfaction. Any indicator otherwise was just something to ignore or push away. It seemed to be working for me...
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And then Oryx came along. It is no wonder I feel hate for her. I love her too, and I see that now. But part of me has actually been hoping this illness kills her. What a terrible wish! It is no wonder I'm trying to block out my own thoughts. Because how can I accept myself and wish death on somebody?!
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Well, but let's think more clearly... I mean, why not wish death on someone who is clearly in a lot of pain and who is the center of much pain and inconvenience for others?
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But what if she died as a result of my wishing it so?! God! I must not wish death on anyone! How could I carry that on my conscience? How could I?
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I want her to be okay. I want her to feel her own teachings. I want her to revel in her pain if she's going to have so much pain.
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I do not want to serve her. I don't want to feel like a servant anymore.
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As I exclaimed in frustration to Paladin last night, "Nobody else has any consciousness about keeping things tidy! I took off my boots at the door right in front of you and you still walked all around the living room and kitchen with your wet boots on! And I watch people take their dishes to the sink and they'll even stop there and chat with someone long enough to have done all the dishes at the sink, but won't even do their own dish!
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"And the trash bins are over-flowing, and the floor is filthy, and the toilet bowl needs cleaning, and the sink and the mirror, and the sheets are dirty!
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"But you don't notice. I have to notice, and then I have to either ask you to do something about it or do it myself. But now I can't do it myself because every time I try I injure my hand more! I hate this! I have to choose between living in a messy, dirty home or doing all the cleaning myself and I'm not even being allowed to choose to clean it myself!
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"And tomorrow I'm going to have to work, and because I can't make food for myself I'll have to ask you to make food or work while being hungry and I hate working hungry!"
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And then he did exactly what I hate for him to do. He muttered something, looking stricken, and then gathered the trash and compost and took it out. He gathered up his laptop stuff so he could work downstairs while I slept.
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I wanted to feel understood and loved, but he wasn't up for that. He just crushed under the weight of my words. I didn't want to crush him. I want him to flourish. I want him to be able to take care of himself, clean up after himself, and be able to be authentic with me and handle my frustration at times.
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In many ways he is the most amazing man I've ever known. In other ways, he's blocked-up inside, unable to perceive arousal or disorder. And so I don't get sex and I don't get a clean house. These are two of the things I desire most, and so it is ironic fate that I should be stuck as the wage-earner with him.
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It is funny, because Wolf wanted to be my house-spouse and he was good at cleaning! But no, I wanted to go find someone else to be their house-spouse, and so Paladin took care of me that first year I was with him.
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And why, why, why will I never get over the choice I made! It was me who chose to leave that behind? It was over three years ago now.
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But it was the lifestyle I wanted. Why did I leave it behind? Was I really so foolish?
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I guess I just had no idea that I was leaving it behind.
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Distractions. Distractions. Lost inside my own tumultuous emotions without any sort of direction.
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I want to reply Ocimum's letter, but I have not even read it. I feel so confused, so messy inside. I am afraid I'd write things that were not accurate to my whole being at all. I am focused on little things, big things, but not the whole picture with its frame. God, I just want to back to sleep. Being awake is so tiresome.
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...I notice Farm Ox has not replied my letter yet.
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...I notice that I have more people in my life than ever before, and yet I'm still unsure how to get the things I want from others.
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Or at least, I get some of what I want, but not all of it. Or I discover that what I thought I wanted wasn't all it's cracked up to be. Or I do get everything I want for a day, but the following day seems lifeless by comparison.
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Where is the giving part of me? Where is my desire to help others get what they want? It is like I've misplaced that part of me today.