I would like to say a few words about writing questions, especially about the Questions that I have written:
With all my Blessings (as usual),
Jaianniah (which is pronounced, once and for all: jye-ann-nye'-ah.)
I appreciate all the good feedback on my art. I really do. I have noticed, though that my poems aren't quite as appreciated...LOL!
The question has been closed for the following reason "Question is off-topic or not relevant. Discussions like this should be taken to IQ Meta" by IQ Moderator 30 Dec '13, 14:38
Cool. Compared to many forums, this one is really troll-free it seems to me. Trolls are people who post things which try to derail the topic or cause a forum argument. Anyway I can see in my short time here that it's not a really active forum yet, so it makes sense that you post to "move things along". I have enjoyed your posts, not found anything in the least offensive and encourage you to continue if you feel something is important to present or discuss. We have to deal with so much "being PC" in daily life that IMO it has no place on forums as long as we honor each other. Keep it real!
One observation and possibly a block for me and some others on this forum is this: I resonate strongly with Bashar, after many years of re-membering and spiritual information finding. However, I don't resonate so much with the Abraham material. Particularly because there is so much jargon and I just don't feel the need to learn a whole new paradigm to explain what I feel Bashar does quite simply. My point is, I won't post on threads which refer to the Abraham concepts as I don't know the jargon, and this may be true for others as well. I would be open to studying something like a "glossary" of Abraham concepts, but to spend the time viewing hours of Youtube or buying and reading whole books just doesn't attract me.
Finally, sometimes our questions just seem to fall flat and I guess it's not time yet or maybe we will get our answers in another way. Just some thoughts. With heart, Charlotte
answered 11 Sep '13, 16:50
After looking through many of your past posts, I recalled how many times your urged me & others to read what you wrote on hub pages. The link used to be in your profile. I didn't have time last year to read it. I also recall another link - serene hearts & I don't see it in your profile any longer.
MY "SHADOW SELF
This Hub was written just for me. I hope that it may help other people to see that it is okay to admit that you are not perfect and have human flaws.If you have followed any of my other writing, then you know that I did not have a good childhood. But I now am taking responsibility for it, and what I did with my rage. I hope this inspires you, my readers, to write your own "confessions", and face your own "shadow self". -Jai
What I have to tell you is about how I have been living, a deep and comprehensive look at my soul. If you read this, I hope it helps you grow with God. That is why I am going to tell my secrets here- the saddest and most compelling secrets a soul can have.
I am mentally ill, but that is the place I must begin. For me, it is a sort of surrender to my lowest desires, a type of resigning from life. Deep inside me is a hate-filled rage that orders my every breath. I have felt justified in having this rage, but now I see that that does not excuse it at all. This confession may help many people who are mentally ill. You may still have the choice to surrender, and quit being sick, I do not know. I do not know if I have gone too far or not, but I am going to try to stop being mentally ill because it is just inviting all the Demons of "Hades" to have their way with me and my Soul.
The moment of the first rage was when my sister was born. I do not know if I just was not prepared for her, or what, but I do know that all my parents' attention was on her, and I was used to having all their attention up to that point (age three and a quarter). I hated Bonnie and wanted her gone, especially since she cried all the time and seemed to be a demon designed to make my life "Hades" on Earth. She was spoiled and determined to have the attention of my parents, too, and we struggled from her birth onward to grab the limelight. When I began to understand that Bonnie was their preferred child, or at least, my Mom's preferred child, I knew a rage that could never be quenched. I was never ashamed of my rage, but rather, began plotting in a hundred ways to pull the attention off of Bonnie and onto myself. I did a number of things to achieve this. I was always "good". Since she was naughty, I became dependable beyond my years and extremely good. I did not know that I was fighting a battle I would never win, because people just love who they love, and you cannot make them love you at all. I tried to be "lovable" but it did not seem to work. And then, being good became work. I started to resent having to play that part, and resented having to fit that role. I wanted to be messy and ordinary, but could not. I was locked into that role of the first-born. And I was filled with rage. Bonnie got away with the most outrageous things She was beaten sometimes, but it seemed to me that she was never permanently punished for her choices. I choose to be good, and it got me nowhere.
I see now that I began at a young age to play my audience. I took on the will of the people I was with at all times. This meant that I became two-faced and a liar. For example, if I was with Republicans, I denounced the Democrats. If I was with Democrats, I denounced the Republicans. Like that. Sometimes, I would get caught in my deceptions. It made me, and is making me, a nervous wreck. I now know that I do not know who I am at all! I am the chameleon. Lying became a way of life for me. I lie easily. I do not even think about it. If I get caught, I lie to get out of it. I am a wretch, no doubt about that.
The second point of rage goes even deeper. I played the game of being "good" and decided at age fourteen that I would be a doctor. This, certainly, would draw a lot of attention to me, I thought. I really had absolutely no call to be a doctor. I simply liked the sound of it. It impressed people. I liked that it impressed people. I reached the high point of my studies my senior year of High School. I was accepted to Northwestern University's Honors Medicine Program. It was an exclusive club of thirty students, chosen from all over the USA. It was quite an honor. My father encouraged me in this path, and often said I could be anything I wanted to be. So I thought that meant he would help me. It came time to fill out the scholarship loan papers. I was only seventeen, and my father had to sign the first set of papers for me.
The abyss I feel into was truly "Hades". I lost my bearings. What good was it to be good, if it resulted in having no rewards? What was the point? I went to M....College, deeply discouraged, full of rage and humiliation, and found out that my parents were greatly relieved to get me out of the house. That was all they felt about me. I was gone, and they were happy about it. When it came time to drop out of that bad place, they even refused to pick me up when they were supposed to, leaving me homeless for a week. I had to have sex to have a place to stay. I went home, and my period was very late. Perhaps I was pregnant, for when it came, it was very heavy and long, like a miscarriage.
I quickly latched onto John, my future husband. I thought I "loved" him, and was proud to be seen with him, but I know now that I was not being honest with him or myself. I did not love him the right way, and I was marrying him out of rage at my boyfriend, Rich, who dumped me because of my mental illnesses, and because I needed to get out of my parents' home. I got pregnant, and that further trapped me into the path of marriage and children, which I was not ready for and did not want at all. I was sick of responsibility and being good all the time.
I began to fear God. I knew that He knew the Truth, the whole Truth, about me, and I became afraid of dying and death. If it was not for that, I would have committed suicide. But you must understand that I had begun to live in "Hades" - symbolically, if not actually. I dreamed of "hades" many times. I know exactly what it looks like, smells like and consists of.
I had my son, and knew love. I truly loved him, but was demolished by the demands of a baby. I was exhausted all the time. I resented the lack of sleep. I resented the lack of support, again, no one helped me. More rage. I hated myself and everyone, including John. I even tried to run him over with the car once, something he remembers vividly.
John and I decided to have another child, I saw this as a new way to get some attention, and maybe some help. Nope. I was hospitalized for the first time when Meg was about nine months old or so, maybe younger or older- it was January. I think she was one.
I had a ball in the hospital, except I kept having spells of fright. I would scream, "Keep him away from me", and hide under the desk in my room. They put me in the padded room for this. Rage. Total rage. I did not understand why I did this behavior- I still do not know for sure. All I know was that three weeks in the hospital were the first "vacation" of my life. I could be myself.
But when I got home, I was inconsolable. I called John at work inappropriately. I killed myself with housework until my knee would ache so bad I could not walk. I began hurting myself- I repeatedly tried to break my left and right arms, but the bones just would not break. I ran up a lot of doctor's bills. I started to rely on painkillers for relief- I did not know about the rage, but it was propelling me forward as surely as the engine of a car.
Oh, I longed for love! I longed for understanding, but I could not seem to tell anyone the truth about anything. Lying was my way of life- that is, lying about the things that really mattered.
John began to run away from me, and took longer and longer trips for work. Now I had another reason to be angry- I lived in a state of utter exhaustion all the time. I never should have had four kids- I love them, but I could not handle all of the mess. I should not have had eleven cats. I should not have had two dogs. But I did- I thought they consoled me.
The list of anger grew and grew, and the exhaustion grew, too. Finally, I broke down, mentally and physically. I became ill with an infection of my left knee. I never knew such pain, or such abandonment of family and friends. This was the final straw. I understood in a deep way that if I let the rage out, I would murder and burn and hit and kill. I cannot imagine just how much rage I was holding down. I wish now that I had told someone the truth- I was tired, I wanted out of taking care of the kids, and I wanted to get my life back.
This paper has had an interesting effect. I just called John, and told him some of the things written here- especially about the rage and exhaustion. I feel immensely better, but I doubt that he does. I feel like a load has been lifted off my shoulders. I told him that I didn't hate his jobs- I hated the exhaustion that they caused. I hated the loneliness. I hated the lack of money, the constant grind- all of it. He listened, and after I was done, I did not demand discussion. I just said goodbye and hung up. I did tell him that I thought it was wrong that I was going to have surgery on Tuesday, and that no one was going to be in the surgical waiting room for me. I told him that Dr. Drake said I have a 50/50 chance of losing my leg. I said that I hated Mississippi. I said that it was wrong that I am stuck here alone, and what the heck did I do to deserve this???
I cried, and I asked Jesus to keep me from going to "Hades". I hope He does, despite the things that I have done, and the lies that I have told. I want to have a happy life in heaven, and I do not want purgatory or "Hades" at all.
I understand that I am not all bad. I have prayed for strangers. I especially am dismayed when I see road kill, and have talked to God about being an Angel that escorts animals to Heaven.
I feel such relief at having spoken to John. This little column did not turn out the way I thought it would at first. I meant to confess (I have) but also to vent. Somewhere, I realized that this computer is not where I should have been venting. This is why I called John. I feel there is hope for me now. I cried out to Jesus, and asked Him to save me.
That's how I feel now- Saved. I have faced my "Shadow Self"!
I asked Christ that my Dad and my husband be present when I have my life review. I feel that these two men need to know how I felt after they abandoned me. I know that I hurt them, and that John does not deserve eternal damnation for doing what he thought was best for our family. I hope my father can read this, and has heard me. I hope he knows now what he did to me.
I assume the members of IQ who have been around for the last 4 or 5 years have read this. I wish I would have read this last year. Now it makes sense.
Note - I did substitute the word Hades because the other word would not pass the scanner.
This answer is marked "community wiki".
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