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<blockquote data-quote="Scent of Cedar *" data-source="post: 679557" data-attributes="member: 17461"><p>It is the overweening grandiosity in thinking like that, Copa. This thing that I fought all my life. Not to be that chuckling thing without eyes.</p><p></p><p>I am so afraid of that.</p><p></p><p>That it is me. </p><p></p><p>That is what all the perfectionism is designed to cover and protect and discipline and monitor and negate. That is the secret thing, and the fearsome thing.</p><p></p><p>That is why: Slave. To refute the temptation of: Master. Not through some sense of nobility, but because Master is a pointless game, the win ugly.</p><p></p><p>All of it, ugly. But we push ourselves up from the ground, determined to stand as best we can, as many times as it takes.</p><p></p><p>Nietzsche: When you peer into the abyss, the abyss peers also into you. </p><p></p><p>So, I have to be my own best mother, now. And tend to work, and to drinking my tea as though the fulcrum of the world turned on it. And to contemplating Germany, which is who we become once we are free, and decent and intensely interested in our curiosities strictly for themselves and not for self-aggrandizement, which is the other side of contempt for self and other. </p><p></p><p>This is my biggest secret.</p><p></p><p>That these things must be true. How could they not be true. I don't know another way to interpret anything without figuring out which is the correct way to think, first. So...the task is to accept that about myself.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Oh, boy. I hope so.</p><p></p><p>:O)</p><p></p><p>Shakespeare, remember? All the people and life the stage. Then, I could pick whoever I wanted to be. Perfect, and not all nasty. Because here is another secret, just not as rotten as the first one. I don't feel very proud of the way I post about my Family of Origin, here. </p><p></p><p>Dolly comes to Cedar's rescue.</p><p></p><p>Dolly was never nasty. She had been through some nasty things. Had been twisted into unnatural shapes, and confronted or been confronted with, unnatural and terrible things. Still, she unfolded into Dolly.</p><p></p><p>I will hold faith then that I will do the same.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>I remember when we first began here on FOO Chronicles. And I would always post that I was going to push through it. And I did. And that was hard, and I need to remember that. And there was a time then too when I felt this way. And it turned out to be another layer.</p><p></p><p>It's like balancing on a tightrope.</p><p></p><p>Just do it. Trust yourself, and do it.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>Copa, that is a horrifying story, about the psychiatrist and the people behind the glass. What in the world was the matter with him, that he would offer therapy at that cost to a student who had no real choice but to accept his "help". A student who was, in any case, too young to know the forever cost to herself. He was using you Copa, to demonstrate his stupid prowess to his students.</p><p></p><p>Oh, Copa.</p><p></p><p>In public.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>There was a time I intended to specialize in psychiatric nursing. When I saw what actually happens there, when I saw the dynamic between patient and forever self-elevating "doctor" ~ when I saw the utter lack of human compassion and the way it was justified, I chose another field.</p><p></p><p>And I agree with you wholeheartedly about Freud. </p><p></p><p>The question becomes how those theories could have seemed valid...but they were gospel for a long time. Contempt, superiority, a refusal to broach criticism or deviation from the standard line; name calling of the worst kind should the student (postulant) deviate. ("Just don't think." "Don't you dare.")</p><p></p><p>And yet, some did.</p><p></p><p>And so, all were saved.</p><p></p><p>Cedar</p><p></p><p>Here is the question relevant to our healing: If adult people not abused in their childhoods believed Freud's truths...is there something in all of us that will believe the worst possible things are the "truth" about us?</p><p></p><p>When the truth is actually that we can think anything. We can imagine anything ~ anything at all. Why is it that we are so willing to believe the wrong things, but not the beautiful things. The beautiful things about us that are more true, that have been proven again and again and again to be true.</p><p></p><p>Because both are equally true.</p><p></p><p>Which was learned in those experiments we were posting about.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Scent of Cedar *, post: 679557, member: 17461"] It is the overweening grandiosity in thinking like that, Copa. This thing that I fought all my life. Not to be that chuckling thing without eyes. I am so afraid of that. That it is me. That is what all the perfectionism is designed to cover and protect and discipline and monitor and negate. That is the secret thing, and the fearsome thing. That is why: Slave. To refute the temptation of: Master. Not through some sense of nobility, but because Master is a pointless game, the win ugly. All of it, ugly. But we push ourselves up from the ground, determined to stand as best we can, as many times as it takes. Nietzsche: When you peer into the abyss, the abyss peers also into you. So, I have to be my own best mother, now. And tend to work, and to drinking my tea as though the fulcrum of the world turned on it. And to contemplating Germany, which is who we become once we are free, and decent and intensely interested in our curiosities strictly for themselves and not for self-aggrandizement, which is the other side of contempt for self and other. This is my biggest secret. That these things must be true. How could they not be true. I don't know another way to interpret anything without figuring out which is the correct way to think, first. So...the task is to accept that about myself. Oh, boy. I hope so. :O) Shakespeare, remember? All the people and life the stage. Then, I could pick whoever I wanted to be. Perfect, and not all nasty. Because here is another secret, just not as rotten as the first one. I don't feel very proud of the way I post about my Family of Origin, here. Dolly comes to Cedar's rescue. Dolly was never nasty. She had been through some nasty things. Had been twisted into unnatural shapes, and confronted or been confronted with, unnatural and terrible things. Still, she unfolded into Dolly. I will hold faith then that I will do the same. *** I remember when we first began here on FOO Chronicles. And I would always post that I was going to push through it. And I did. And that was hard, and I need to remember that. And there was a time then too when I felt this way. And it turned out to be another layer. It's like balancing on a tightrope. Just do it. Trust yourself, and do it. *** Copa, that is a horrifying story, about the psychiatrist and the people behind the glass. What in the world was the matter with him, that he would offer therapy at that cost to a student who had no real choice but to accept his "help". A student who was, in any case, too young to know the forever cost to herself. He was using you Copa, to demonstrate his stupid prowess to his students. Oh, Copa. In public. *** There was a time I intended to specialize in psychiatric nursing. When I saw what actually happens there, when I saw the dynamic between patient and forever self-elevating "doctor" ~ when I saw the utter lack of human compassion and the way it was justified, I chose another field. And I agree with you wholeheartedly about Freud. The question becomes how those theories could have seemed valid...but they were gospel for a long time. Contempt, superiority, a refusal to broach criticism or deviation from the standard line; name calling of the worst kind should the student (postulant) deviate. ("Just don't think." "Don't you dare.") And yet, some did. And so, all were saved. Cedar Here is the question relevant to our healing: If adult people not abused in their childhoods believed Freud's truths...is there something in all of us that will believe the worst possible things are the "truth" about us? When the truth is actually that we can think anything. We can imagine anything ~ anything at all. Why is it that we are so willing to believe the wrong things, but not the beautiful things. The beautiful things about us that are more true, that have been proven again and again and again to be true. Because both are equally true. Which was learned in those experiments we were posting about. [/QUOTE]
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