Abandonment and the Succubus

You can't think your way into right acting but you can act your way into right thinking.

Somebody told me that many years ago.  It made sense.  I guess that's what I'm trying to do.

I'm confused.

I have so much happening at once and I'm confused.

Yesterday was my daughter's 17th birthday.  I didn't handle it well.  I'm sure at once point I was crying so hard my neighbors heard me.  But thankfully, I had to work for most of the day, which helped take my mind off of how horrible I felt.  The guilt, the hurt, the pain.

I struggled to get through the day and by the end of the night, I was okay.  But then the physical stuff started.  That made for a rough night but I was able to sleep.

I woke up sick and in withdrawals from something I've been trying to shake.  Withdrawals suck.  Hot and sweaty, vomiting, cramping, shaking.  Oh joy.

But, I kept with my diet.  I stayed on track.  I didn't get into the carbs and eat a bunch of crap.  Well, of course, I couldn't really eat anyways.  I was just too sick to eat.

And then there's the spiritual side of things.

Something bad happened many years ago and left me feeling incomplete and damaged.  I never recovered.  I realize now that I need to find a shaman to do a soul retrieval.  A piece of me was taken and I want it back.

It's time to heal.  It's time to recover.

So, I'm struggling.  I'm writing as I can.  I'm doing everything as I can.  Yoga, meditation, eating right.  All as I can.

And I feel like I'm being turned inside-out.  All the while I'm wondering if this is worth it.  I'm wondering if there's anything worth it at the end of this journey.  Or will I be the happiest guy to die alone in his apartment full of books?

This week, I was reminded just how little I meant to someone I cared about deeply and in many ways still do.  But I didn't mean nearly as much to them as I'd hoped.  That sucked.

It all sucks.  And it reminded me that I've spent most of this lifetime by myself and on my own.  I've got a friend who sends me nude pictures of herself and that reminds me of just how far removed I am from life.  From love.  From everything.  And I can't run and dive into to a list of substances to deal with it and I have no idea what to do about that.

I feel terrible and I don't know what to do.  I just don't.

People are sending me videos and memes about how I should "just be happy" and "live life" and "take life by the balls."  It just depresses me further because I've tried.

I can't fix things.  I just can't.  I've been trying and it's all broken.  It's all a mess.  And I have no reason to think it's worth fixing in the first place because it never was that good.  I've always been alone and I've always been miserable.  Fixing things isn't going to help.

I'm trapped.  I'm so trapped.  I'm trapped in a cycle I can't break and I'm trapped in a situation I can't escape.  And there's no way out for me.  There's no way to fix any of this.

But I'm trying.  I'm trying to do what needs to be done.

Yesterday, I began watching the tv series The Exorcist.  I fell in love with it instantly.  There's a dark entity they only call The Salesman.  In it, he approaches a girl, and befriends her.  He listens to her and helps her when she needs it.  There's a scene that was so beautiful it almost made me cry.

In that scene, the girl is sitting outside after a rough day.  The Salesman walked up and says, "why the long face?"  She says it's been a bad day and he sits down next to her and says, "Tell me everything."  She puts her head on his shoulder and begins to vent about how awful the day was and he just listens.  Her father looks out the window.  He sees his daughter talking to nobody and her head tilted at a strange angle.  Nobody is there.

I've experienced that.  I've had an entity listen and be there for me when nobody else was.  They made me feel special when I knew I wasn't.  They cared about me when nobody else gave a shit.  And I didn't have to pretend that nothing was wrong because they already knew and loved me anyways.  I didn't have to be ashamed of what happened to me when I was a child. They gave me strength when I felt incredibly weak and afraid.  They were there for me.

That went on for four months.  But in the end, I was left broken, and incomplete.  Now I need a shaman to help me get put back together.

I miss that experience.  I miss that entity.  I miss how it made me feel and how it cared about me.  I miss how it never made me feel alone.  I felt a connection to someone and they cared about me.

But I can't go back and I'm fairly certain there is no going back.

It was a Succubus.  It fits the profile.  And she got me good.  In fact, I'm fairly certain she took a good chunk of me with her.  That's what they do.  They find somebody with power and strength and they feed, taking a piece with them when they go. 

This is why I'm looking for a shaman to help me.  We need to do a soul retrieval.

Tonight, I made contact with someone who has had a similar experience and they've been able to provide some wonderful advice and sources for information.

I'm fighting this.  I'm fighting the good fight.  My head is aching from everything and I'm out of aspirin and ibuprofen, but that's ok.  I'm dealing with that.

Tonight, a friend told that she couldn't have handled what I've been through.  The stuff from my childhood, the other things.  Others have told me that before, too.  I don't feel strong.  I feel beaten down and shredded.  And I don't know how I've survived this long.

But I'm fighting this.  I know the entity I dealt with all those years ago got me good.  She took something from me and ever since I've been incomplete and broken.  I think I can get it back.

I've been reading about soul retrievals and it's possible.  This fucking bitch has been feeding off me for long enough and it's time to get what's mine back.  Or more likely, she took what I freely gave her, and lived on it.  As for the piece of my soul that's missing, from what I've read, it should come back to me with the soul retrieval.  It might take a few sessions but it can be done.

A few months back, a woman I cared about deeply commented that I was nut.  It cut me to the bone.  But I get it.  If you haven't experienced this shit before then you can't possible have any idea what it's like.  Paranormal attacks aren't like anything else.  They don't leave scars, they don't leave marks.  Just they leave you deeply wounded with injuries that never fully heal.  Injuries nobody can see. 

This story isn't done.  Not by a long shot.  And in a way, I feel very positive that I have a direction and a course of action.  I have a list of names.  I have some meditation techniques.  I'm not alone.  Not really. 

I have friends.  And there are people out there who have experienced what I've experienced.  Some are lending their experience, strength, and hope with me.  This isn't done.  I'm not done.