Demons.
Funny, part of the reason I started this blog about demons is because I've always liked the misunderstood. I believe there's good in everything, even the Tea Party, even Evanescence, even demons. The way I see it, they're all just doing their jobs. (Like the Tea Party's job is to keep me fighting for universal health care, equal rights, freedom of choice, and all my other liberal beliefs, and Evanescence's job is to make me stop listening to work-place radio.)
Demons simply do what they do, whether its torturing humans or just acting ugly. They don't mean to be "evil", its just our perception of the effect they have on our lives- if you even believe in demons, because you can't get hurt by something you don't believe in... right?
Sigh. Let me tell a personal story and see if I can answer my own question.
The truly observant may have noticed I've been off the radar lately- particularly where this blog is concerned. It's a long boring story to everyone but my mom, but the bullet points are:
- I got my heart broken.
- Had a nervous breakdown.
- Haven't written a word.
- Am still recovering.
Because these bullet points are reading far more dramatic than I anticipated, I'll flesh each out a little.
Heartbreak: It's happened before, it'll happen again, but this one was the nastiest motherfucker to date. Not because of what any guy or girl did to me, but because of what I did to myself. I can't attribute this heartbreak to anyone but me. I broke my own heart. I'm my own bad boy.
Breakdown: I use the word flippantly. I didn't get a diagnosis from a doctor. But I did need help. Lots and lots and lots of help, and I found it with my spiritual practitioner. What I call "breakdown", she calls "spiritual transformation." Spiritual transformation sounds groovy, spacious, and smooth. To me "breakdown" more reflects the choking, desperate, writhing place I found myself in. I do like the movement and hope embodied in the word "transformation" rather than the dead-end that "breakdown" invokes... okay, fine, spiritual transformation.
Haven't written: I really haven't done much of anything beside reflect. And listen to endless TED Talks. For the first few weeks, being upright was a major accomplishment. My Type-A Barbie is doing her best not to whine and judge and remind me that writing is what we do! And if we don't do what we do all the time, how do we ever expect to get paid to do what we do?! ...she's trying.
Recovering: Sometimes I feel awesome, sometimes I feel stupid, sometimes I feel like I can conquer the world, sometimes I feel like I'm not good enough to eat. The point is I'm feeling. And feeling means I'm living. And living means I'm not still curled up in a tight little ball in my comfy chair.
...What was my point? "If you don't believe in something, can it hurt you?" was my question.
I hurt myself, I broke my own heart, because somewhere deep inside I believed I wasn't good enough. This belief was so deep and ingrained, I thought it was a fact of life, like my heart beat or my brown eyes. This belief was my default.
Over the course of the last two months I've begun to re-program my thinking. Contrary to what I would prefer, it takes longer than a weekend in bed to exorcise a demon I've had for a lifetime, but at least I'm aware now. For the most part. Enough to know "I'm not good enough" is total bullshit. And awareness is a wonderful gateway drug to healing, acceptance, and love.
So can something I no longer believe in hurt me anymore?
No. It fucking can't.
It feels good to be back. (Barbie just died from yessing too hard.)
Funny, part of the reason I started this blog about demons is because I've always liked the misunderstood. I believe there's good in everything, even the Tea Party, even Evanescence, even demons. The way I see it, they're all just doing their jobs. (Like the Tea Party's job is to keep me fighting for universal health care, equal rights, freedom of choice, and all my other liberal beliefs, and Evanescence's job is to make me stop listening to work-place radio.)
Demons simply do what they do, whether its torturing humans or just acting ugly. They don't mean to be "evil", its just our perception of the effect they have on our lives- if you even believe in demons, because you can't get hurt by something you don't believe in... right?
Sigh. Let me tell a personal story and see if I can answer my own question.
The truly observant may have noticed I've been off the radar lately- particularly where this blog is concerned. It's a long boring story to everyone but my mom, but the bullet points are:
- I got my heart broken.
- Had a nervous breakdown.
- Haven't written a word.
- Am still recovering.
Because these bullet points are reading far more dramatic than I anticipated, I'll flesh each out a little.
Heartbreak: It's happened before, it'll happen again, but this one was the nastiest motherfucker to date. Not because of what any guy or girl did to me, but because of what I did to myself. I can't attribute this heartbreak to anyone but me. I broke my own heart. I'm my own bad boy.
Breakdown: I use the word flippantly. I didn't get a diagnosis from a doctor. But I did need help. Lots and lots and lots of help, and I found it with my spiritual practitioner. What I call "breakdown", she calls "spiritual transformation." Spiritual transformation sounds groovy, spacious, and smooth. To me "breakdown" more reflects the choking, desperate, writhing place I found myself in. I do like the movement and hope embodied in the word "transformation" rather than the dead-end that "breakdown" invokes... okay, fine, spiritual transformation.
Haven't written: I really haven't done much of anything beside reflect. And listen to endless TED Talks. For the first few weeks, being upright was a major accomplishment. My Type-A Barbie is doing her best not to whine and judge and remind me that writing is what we do! And if we don't do what we do all the time, how do we ever expect to get paid to do what we do?! ...she's trying.
Recovering: Sometimes I feel awesome, sometimes I feel stupid, sometimes I feel like I can conquer the world, sometimes I feel like I'm not good enough to eat. The point is I'm feeling. And feeling means I'm living. And living means I'm not still curled up in a tight little ball in my comfy chair.
...What was my point? "If you don't believe in something, can it hurt you?" was my question.
I hurt myself, I broke my own heart, because somewhere deep inside I believed I wasn't good enough. This belief was so deep and ingrained, I thought it was a fact of life, like my heart beat or my brown eyes. This belief was my default.
Over the course of the last two months I've begun to re-program my thinking. Contrary to what I would prefer, it takes longer than a weekend in bed to exorcise a demon I've had for a lifetime, but at least I'm aware now. For the most part. Enough to know "I'm not good enough" is total bullshit. And awareness is a wonderful gateway drug to healing, acceptance, and love.
So can something I no longer believe in hurt me anymore?
No. It fucking can't.
It feels good to be back. (Barbie just died from yessing too hard.)
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