Recently I’ve been afraid to write simply because of what might come out.  I’ve embarked on dental treatment which is supposed to sort out the damage in my mouth. Of course I don’t feel only physical pain of it all, it is one and the same with the emotional pain of my past. Actually, I don’t perceive any sort of difference between body which is physical and emotions which are considered to be ephemeral fairy-headed things. Or headless things, since we are so inclined to juxtapose emotions to physical phenomena. Anyway. There has been anger piling up. The special kind of anger which is the piled up anger is the most dangerous because at one point or another you have no choice but to feel it – to blow a fuse, so to speak.  You have no choice but to feel (and better do it sooner rather than later). I know better now than to fight the emotions. What can you fight other than yourself, anyway? Any type of fight is a hostile behavior towards yourself. I have been trying to engage in a loving approach. This is what it looks like: you actually care if there is damage in your mouth. You freaking do something about it. And I did, I am so proud I did, because for all these years, I didn’t care. Nobody cared and neither did I. Isn’t it easy to be trained like that? People around you don’t care and you sort of pick this behavior up and land up having a staunch belief that you couldn’t care less. It’s frightening, the power of this whole unconscious imitation thing.  And even more frightening, this whole insane philosophy of not giving a fuck.

Part of me is still thinking about the scenario of “other” me. What if I had been born in a different body and with a different emotional makeup? Would they still have treated me in that atrocious way? There is no way of knowing, and anyway, the answer would be yes, because, well, you aren’t responsible for the behavior of others, let alone for their inability to love. I was raised in this torturous lack of love, and I saw it everywhere I went. I am embarrassed the way I was in some of my relationships. And sometimes I still experience deep regret and pain and sorrow when I see something ‘normal’, I feel so deprived when I see normal families and especially daddies, because I would have liked me a daddy. When I see their ‘normal’ commitment and care and dedication, I would have loved me some of that.  

I suppose I could look at my situation from the angle that would make it a tremendous advantage. I don’t have any kind of a root.  I had some roots to the place I was born but strangely enough, and beautifully enough, when I removed my sixth left molar, I no longer felt any sort of connection to the place. It was a metaphorical pulling out the roots. The dentist’s chair is a place for a weird type of meditation. It’s a pain meditation. I go back to the way I felt and at the same time I feel what the present moment is lauded with. I feel my own creation of the moment, but it’s as though my ability to create isn’t completely pure, but is smokescreened by my beliefs, by the beliefs that I am unworthy, and dirty, and tired. Even though  they are more like tinges of a belief rather than a fully real belief now. Anyway, I have been feeling anger. It was a sort of undirected anger. Maybe that is the point. To feel anger and listen to its messages. When I listen to my anger, it tells me that it’s nothing more but a release of energy that has happened due to my uncovering more of myself. The reason it feels like anger is that I have been trained to interpret it as anger.  They did this, so I should feel that, kind of logic. As if I was taught a language but it doesn’t mean this language is the only language, let alone the true one. There are no true languages. There are choices you make. You choose your language according to yourself.  According to what’s true to you and of you at the moment.