“How could she write about such shameful things?”
“Some things are better left unsaid; better to leave THOSE monsters under the bed, dear.”
I guess it is time to examine my motives for writing this blog in the first place. What do I hope to gain? Fame? Validation for my pain? If I write about my experiences will it somehow make them easier to bear, but why the hell would I write about things that would make me look bad? Why would I write about anything that would make me feel ashamed of myself?
It’s because I am writing for Truth because I have been told that the truth will set me free and I believe it.
Shame burns. It feels like I’m a vampire and I’ve walked into the sunlight. The thing I wrote about demons is embarrassing and it takes a great deal of courage to leave it as it is.
If I can sit with the shame and pray while I feel it I can be healed from whatever causes the shame. Exposing the problem to the light is a good thing no matter how uncomfortable it may be.
I learned how to sit with shame when I prayed the sorrowful mysteries of the rosary. When Jesus was stripped of his clothing and shamed for being ‘just a man’ he suffered humiliation. He didnt have to. But there is grace to be found in being able to suffer humiliation for a greater good.
I am willing to suffer the humiliation of people finding out that I am not perfect for the greater good of reaching others who might be suffering in the same way. There may be someone out there who is perfectly delightful and creative and loving and full of hope and joy and good energy but who is also plauged by some secret fear or dark worry, and I want to be a friend to that person.
I am tired of the ‘demons’ making us cower and hide in fear. It is time to throw off the covers and stop being ashamed of who we are and what we have to deal with. Chances are that there are solutions for the problems we face that seem shamefully insurmounatble in secret.
I don’t know what the ‘ugly faces’ were that used to fly at me when I was a little girl. I don’t know if they were memories or parts of myself or what they were. And I don’t know if the parasites that I deal with now are real or not. It doesn’t seem to matter if they are real to anyone else. They are a problem for me and I need a way to deal with them that works for me.
So far, the Reiki that my friend gave me has worked better than any other treatment I have tried. He gave me Reiki with the instructions to be extra gentle with my skin and kind to myself. He didn’t call me crazy or freak out (in front of me) even when I showed him the video–the proof of parasite.
What have I learned?
- That I write for Truth even if it means I have to suffer a little shame because I believe the truth will set me free and I want to be free.
- That freedom means I get to use my experiences to help other people know they are not alone—that we are all more alike than not and that we are lovable.