Jenny Holtzer, photo by Lisa Kahane ~*~

How many times I have started and stopped. How many times I try to get to the story and I am blocked because…

I scratch the surface and the blood begins to flow and for the first time ever it, it feels unbearable. I take no pleasure and I feel no release. I feel sickened and disgusted and violated by me.

I need to do this only I need to learn how to take the greatest care of my heart. I need to get at my greatest fear. I need to take it down but I see now, it’s not the one fell swoop sorta thang.

I can say what it is. That’s easy enough, but why and how it is and how to overcome it, fuckmemaaan.

I am terrified of speaking my truth because I fear retribution.

I know how hard this is for me because just trying to figure out what to say next has my chest swelling. I feel my throat close and I swallow and I distract myself with these words. Writing this nothingness is my way of breathing in and out as I move forward.

It’s one thing for me to speak of myself and to reveal my pain. It is another thing for me to speak of other people who are complicit in the dance of pathologies. Were I to tell you about any of these people, even under an alias, I would feel a sickening sense of terror because each and every one of these people has betrayed themselves.

Thas just it. Their self-disrespect is so immense that when in their presence I have kowtowed to it, lowering myself. Zero integrity. I was told I was worthless, over and over again. I was treated as such for so long that I sought it out. It’s becoming increasingly clear that nearly all my interactions and relationships with people were based on lies, illusions, self-deception, and disrespect. It was all painted as something else, as a way for us all to ignore what was really happening.

Water seeks its own level and up until July 16, I was gutter, baby, I was dirty as I could get. I can’t even write this. It’s making me sick. I don’t know how to purify tho. How do I get rid of this filth…