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Posted by Figuringitout , 15 February 2014 · 62 views

Trust is something a lot of people take for granted. when youre a child all you know is your family. U trust them you love them but what happens when your father takes that trust for granted and fucks you on a regular basis. So the time you had to grow up and find who u r you're too busy trying to shield your father and protect him from your mother finding out because now the only way to please him is to suck his dick. I'm 28 can't hold a steady relationship with a guy because I can't trust guys or not that I can't I just don't. So what do I do to move forward I try therapist and counselors I told my mother the whole situation I feel like my life is doomed and I'm fucked. The crazy thing is I'm more aggravated at my mother because I told her and even though it stopped she gave me nothing no security no satisfaction no outlit I'm still always trying to please my father and hear from him say you're doing a good job you're awesome at this or that you are a great daughter thank you for not going to the police keep up the good work in this or that you grew up to be independent and loving even though all I contributed to your life was pain and Shame and Embarrasment

Feb 15 2014 10:06 PM

Wow. This entry goes straight to the heart. My parents were a fireman and my mother who met after she divorced my older sister's father after a very rocky three years. They never married. They lived together for awhile. He could never accept he'd gotten my mother pregnant, even though I looked so much like him. He was 53 or so. She was 23. She ended up remarrying my sister's father. That was really confusing for me as a baby. I never really bonded with either of them. I remember lots of times asking my mother if my sister's father were mine too, knowing the answer deep down inside. My mother always confused the issue. I could blame her, and lots of times, I have. In fact, for years, in my teens, I despised her. But I understand now she was only speaking from her own experience - a very neurotic Catholic woman born of the 30's.


More to the point though, I've learned it's better to take these soul-originated questions inside and settle the answers on the inner. Is the answer transparent? Does it reason out? Does it reflect light? Is it balanced or one-sided. No matter what, the truth has to come from within.


My biological father smoked. I've never smoked. My biological mother is diabetic and has almost always been overweight. I'm neither. When a non-blood family relative told me my father wasn't really my father biologically speaking, it hurt to face the truth once and for all, but that was one of the best revelations of my life - a real turning point, a very liberating experience.


This has been a difficult life and all I plan to take from it when I die is a lot more control over my own spiritual destiny. Everyone has faults - everyone. So, if we go around disappointed in the people we're supposed to trust most -- our own parents -- it will just lead to more betrayal and dissappointment. We can trust in the fact that we're all human and have an axe to grind and some spiritual source to whom we must answer. Get a box of popcorn in the movies and it's good for awhile, but eventually you get down to the bottom, and all that's left are seeds. Chew on them, spit or swallow, get a chunk between your tooth and gum, but in the end, the popcorn is gone. So is my childhood -- fun while it lasted.


It can be hard thing to face a stone cold bank vault, when all you want is $10.00 to see a movie or buy some food. But, there's security in that cold steel door too. Trust is funny that way. It always seems to work but strictly on its own terms. Sometimes, life gives us a reprieve, a breather from the harsh realities of human relations. Like whipped cream on a cafe mocha, it doesn't take away the heat or caffeine; it just helps a cup of joe go down a little easier. Trust your own judgement when it comes to those who are coming onto to you. When you guess right, it feels better than good. It feels right. Good sex doesn't just start in the head, it starts way above. I know where it starts, by the way. I'm still trying to figure out where it ends, in a world in which having sex is about as common as a bathroom break for everyone but me.


Do I trust my living relatives, even now? Yes and no. I know that I trust the light within me more than them and that I can count on them to fuck me - not intentionally, but out of their own weaknesses, over which I have no control. I do however have the choice as to whether I'm going to follow them into the same mental jailhouse.


When I was a kid, it was all auto-piolot, putting together my personality bit by bit through observation, admiration, innocense. They've had their chance to prove their trustworthiness as parents. They still try to fake it with authoritative-sounding advice. As if one person can honestly really speak from the experience of another.


Do my younger relatives on my wife's side trust me? I like to think so. I'm honest with myself about them and to them. They're smart and educated and have more culture under their dirty fingernails than we were ever going to have. They've never been forced to love me and they never will be. They know what I'm good for - which aint a lot materialistically, and what not. What I'm good for though - they know for sure in their heart of hearts. What is in mine is open to them, one and all.


And that makes me about the richest man on the face of this insignificant little blue planet which is hardly more than a speck of dust in the great black expanse of outer space.


You will never have to suck my dick to please me. Just close your eyes and see the reason in your own thoughts, the light in your own heart. Do that, and as you do, you should know none of us is so alone in this seemingly sad escalator of life as life seems when our eyes are wide open to the world outside. Feel as if you were the very presence of God, and we'll have shared more than a lifetime together, more than a joint on the subway, more than a lifetime of raising kids on alimony and split weekends. Do it and you'll know for yourself that nothing -- nothing -- that has ever happened to you can define the real you. Nothing is the best word to describe the treasure that lies within us, the one we hide from ourselves until little by little, we are prepared to unfold it for ourself.


Yep - And then, he disappeared as if into thin air, and but for a moment, all that seemed to remain was trust :-)

November 2014

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