Emotional trauma will affect the way you think about everything, including God, friends, and the opposite sex. Below
I share some personal entries in my journal that documents The Miracle Inside My Mind!
Jan. 1, 1977
progress. I can now express the pain I feel from Christine in tears! This enables me to feel better afterwards! It’s
only a matter of time until all pain will be gone! All I do is concentrate on the pain, and then express it in tears. Then,
I do anything else I feel like doing. After awhile, I get it out of me, and feel really good inside.
Jan 4, 1977
Linda brought up a lot of bad memories
concerning Christine, and they became confused and interwoven with feelings for Linda. When I thought I was expressing the
“Christine” memories in tears, sometimes I was expressing the tears for Linda.
The lizard began to hide behind Linda. If I didn’t begin to cure myself, my feelings for Linda would have
piled on top of my feelings for Christine. Linda would have become the topsoil.
Jan. 16, 1977
So close I could feel the warmth
of her body.
Her love radiated in the
Coming from her mind it touched me
in her caress…
I loved the feeling of security I’d feel when I laid in my mother’s arms. This is one of the feelings I’d
associate with Christine. Having her, I’d feel safe. I began to associate this feeling with Linda.
The concentrated crying and controlled anger allowed me to blow through Christine, and remove the topsoil! The
world then looked different. I saw how the past affected me. My mind bounced back five to fifteen years
in memory to make conclusions about my behavior. When I analyzed my situation, I scanned years of memory for a solution. Although
the lizard was still hiding, it cringed backward, and its territory had decreased. The lizard was still using old memories
as a shield, and disguised itself in these memories, the same way it did with Christine, but the situation had improved. It
no longer had Christine. I had advanced.
In the sixth grade,
I sought the feeling of security by not having friends. Not having friends meant I wouldn’t be rejected by them. Keeping
this feeling of security became more and more costly, because as I got older, I gave up more and more important things.
The pressure was extreme,
battle lines were drawn,
I was the loser.
lizard felt my presence. To detract me, it tossed valid memories into my consciousness. But with every memory and insight,
it gave up a part of itself, and became weaker.
March 14, 1977
The main impetus
behind anything I’ve thought or done in life seems to be “Mother.”
9:55 P.M. I’ve
beaten myself tired tonight in rage, disgust, and frustration. I did this because I realized “Mother” was still
present. I was counting on dissipating her forever tonight, but I might be too tired. I might have it where I want it. I might
have done the right thing—show hate, frustration, and hate toward those thoughts that have plagued me all my
“Mother” was an alternate mother created
due to the pain associated with my real mother. “Mother” was a place where the feelings of a two year old were
stored and expressed. The most important thing was “Mother.” “Mother” placed on God meant God was
the most important thing in my life. “Mother” placed on a girlfriend meant the girlfriend was the most important
thing. “Mother” was very difficult to overcome, since it originated at the age of two. Denying what happened,
and fighting for honor, created “Mother.”
Early youth subjects people to powerful feelings. The spectrum of feeling is wider since what is important is very
narrow. One person can be everything that is important in the world. Infants don’t have as much to emotionally fall
back on as an adult. An adult losing everything important may feel the same as an infant; however, an adult may lose one thing,
but draw strength from another. This is difficult for an infant to fathom.
Aug. 2, 1977
In the third grade, I became mischievous.
I liked to fight. But then, the ghost from the past engulfed me—I realized my mother would someday die. Feelings that
were dormant for years crept back into mind. But I had forgotten why they were there. When I was “good,” they
left. When I was “bad,” they came.
I didn’t want to take a chance
on being bad. I needed to be good. I became religious. “God” was the feelings from the hospital of my mother coming
back. I’d say without God, I didn’t want to live. I’d make myself do things—thus pleasing “God.”
“God” was a buffer; “God” was a cushion from the
pain; “God” blocked the pain. “God” seems to be the first form “Mother” changed into.
But although this is so, my love for my mother still existed, and a somewhat realistic view of what God was. I loved them
separately, yet as one.
I must dissipate “God.” Pleasing “God”
meant doing right for the wrong reason. Pleasing “God” meant pleasing people for the wrong reason.
An act has no meaning without the thought behind it.
An act is morally hollow,
it does not sprout virtue.
An act is an object like a rock,
a pebble or boulder.
Its only meaning is the one associated with
without the meaning we give the object,
Pleasing my mother meant I was good. It protected me
from the pain. This kept me from the truth. This made it harder to overcome the emotional scars. This created a mass, an area
of dull feeling, an area of non-reality that permeated my being. Sometimes being good is bad.
Feelings were present
to hide other feelings;
pleasing my mother, obeying “God”
created the mass.
And now I stand at the doorway.
I call “God” out.
I call “Mother” out.
I say, stop it! You will smother me no more.
I will come out and disobey and do what I please.
I am not a slave.
It’s better to be mischievous and disobedient,
dynamic and young,
than stunted and muted and obedient.
Virtue for the sake of reward
is not virtue, but chains.
“Anyone who curses his father
or mother shall be put to death; since he has cursed his father or mother, he has forfeited his life.” Leviticus
Satan’s words can be found in the Bible. God is wisdom,
not vengeance; God is love, not murder; see Satan in these words, and acknowledge the unholy deeds committed worldwide because
of Satan’s words in Holy Books.
May 25, 1978
to the deepest soul. I’m dissipating my past. I’m calling subconscious feelings what they are—and these
feelings, entangled in my motives and actions, are becoming memory.
God is everywhere,
like a mirror that can never be covered! God is here and there! God is now and then! God is today and tomorrow! Breathe, and
smell God. Touch, and touch God! Hear, and hear God! Taste, and taste God! The moment is God; rejoice in the moment, because
the moment is God! What is “I am?” “I am” is a mirror image of God!
To search for God is to look deep inside. One cannot truly know oneself, without knowing God. Living without God is
a type of self-estrangement.
“But,” said Moses to God, “when
I go to the Israelites and say to them, ‘The God of your fathers has sent me to you,’ if they ask me, ‘What
is his name?’ what am I to tell them?” God replied, “I am who am.” Then he added, “This is what
you shall tell the Israelites: I AM sent me to you.” Exodus 3:13 to 3:14
June 30, 1978
Now it’s time to become myself. It’s going to be tough. Just as tough, or tougher than the other stages
of dissipating. I’ve got to take on those desires that arose with growing up. I’ve got to face them, and expound
upon them, and accentuate them; as I wish, and as they’ve wanted for so long. I’ve got to face
the emotional scar that struck my life, ruined childhood, made adolescence a nightmare, and threatened to destroy me.
It’s time for a seed to become a tree,
to put a thought into action,
to become myself…
July 13, 1978
the pain. I’m linking memory of the hospital to the present repressions, and producing 1-2 thought. I’ve been
experiencing many hard moments, as I face myself. Sometimes I wonder if I’m going to make it, but down deep inside I
know I will.
To become the
pain is to become myself.
I can withstand the pain.
It’s only when I push it aside
and look in
that I can’t stand the pain…
Aug. 8, 1978
Right now I’m
dissipating the test. It’s awful. My emotional mind is like an animal mutilated by a knife, but the animal won’t
die. It lies in the gutter howling. It will lie forever if I don’t overcome the test. Sometimes I can’t even look
at a girl. There the animal is, stricken in the heart. Then, someone asks how I am, and I say good. What a liar!
Sometimes I hate myself. But that’s good because I know I’m doing so subconsciously. I hate myself because
I’m not having fun like most people my age.
One feeling goes one way
and another a different way
--and then it’s
I end up sitting home.
I hate that so bad.
I think I’m almost cured because
I’m dissipating, but it hurts very much. I’ve always hidden all this to avoid the fact I thought my mother was
dead. All the times I sounded excitedly happy in this journal, I was actually trying to deny thinking my mother was dead;
sometimes everything looks so ugly.
Pride and honor can be devastating things.
I’ll never know for sure, but without pride and honor, maybe the molten log never would have existed. The biggest tragedy
was not thinking my mother was dead. The biggest tragedy was the needless shame. We have power over our minds at a young age.
When power and ignorance are combined, there can be profound harm.
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