(building on this post)
I am a snow leopard. I've always been fascinated with snow leopards but never really spirit-shifted until I met SabR and Kazi, who are very conscious of their own spirit-shapes (using my own terminology for their experience because it is how I see it, but they don't necessarily agree with my thoughts on spirit-shapes). I was awed by their freedom and they encouraged me to explore myself in a similar way. I realized that I had been aware of my snow leopard self for many years, but had repressed it. When I first began to realize it, I had a friend who was a puma and took a lot of zir identity from that, so I felt like I would be stepping on zir toes if I also shifted into a big cat. Once I realized this and changed that old mindset, I began to feel my snow leopard self much more clearly. I created quite a few snow leopard icons (which is a big deal to me, as an icon is the face I wear online), added a snow leopard image to my sanctuary, and really embraced this aspect of myself. I have yet to meet a snow leopard in person -- it is something I very much long for, to be in the presence of like spirit-shapes.

In addition to an innate sensing, I resonate with most of the physical habits/qualities of the snow leopard. Snow leopards are active beginning in late evening to early morning (and I assume they sleep during the day), as am I. They hunt by watching, stalking, then making powerful leaps of four to twelve times their body length (usually from above, but still!). I feel like that is how I live my life -- observing, learning, then making sudden and powerful leaps of growth. Snow leopards are very unique in that they aren't really big cats and aren't really small cats (neither fish nor fowl, heh), which is something that I strongly resonate with as I fit into no easy category. The one thing that really puzzles me is the habitat, as I abhor the cold (but perhaps I wouldn't if I wore such a heavy coat?).



( photos of snow leopards )

The rest of these photos are of Shynghyz, a snow leopard who lives in the Tama Zoological Park in Tokyo, Japan. I felt an instant and very strong connection with this particular being, and it's a very deep wish of mine to meet zir in this lifetime... I feel like that would be such a life-altering experience for me. I've rarely (only once other than this) felt such a strong connection with any other non-human, and certainly never felt that through simply seeing a photo. The first time I saw one of zir photos, my breath just stopped and I stared and stared... seeing more photos made my heart trip and my eyes well up. Ze and I have a bond that makes me think, wonder... I always thought it was a different sort of spirit inside an animal, but maybe it's not. Maybe it's just expressed differently because we have different brains, and can't communicate easily. What does that mean? Just now, writing this, I felt a huge shift in my perception of the world...

wow. Now I'm crying... wow.

( photos of Shynghyz )

I am also an egyptian cobra (not in its natural size or color). This actually came as a surprise to me as I had never thought much about cobras or been especially drawn to them until I had a vision of myself as a huge, magnificent, shimmering white cobra (while in a trance-like state of prayer). Since then I have felt myself shift into cobra shape quite a few times -- usually when I feel the need to protect myself or someone else. Shifting into snow leopard shape is usually voluntary, whereas shifting into cobra shape happens when I need it. Both the snow leopard and the cobra are predators, but I feel very different in each shape. Snow leopard is usually a quiet, observing, sensing experience, and the occasional anger feels like a loud call to fight, blood rushing and claws out -- but cobra is always a silent knowing of power. When in cobra spirit-shape, I don't feel fury -- I feel a coiling within, an absolutely invulnerable state where I simply wait, knowing how it will end. The only emotion I feel in cobra shape is a strange kind of peaceful power (power is not exactly the right word but it is the closest I can think of) -- as though anyone attempting to damage me will fail so utterly that it's not even worth a twinge of worry or any effort to protect myself.

( cobra photos )

I'm also a north american river otter. (the species is important because I only shift into otter form when in fresh or brackish water) Otter was probably my first experience with shifting spirit-shape -- my first memory was from when I was about six years old. I so clearly remember the feeling of wildness that overcame me, this sudden breaking-away from everything, and a whole new sense of strength and agility. However I haven't really shifted or explored this since I was a child, so I feel I still have a lot to learn from/about it.

( a photo )

I think that I may also have a unicorn shape, but I have only flitted into it for seconds, so I'm not sure. Not the modern kind that's just a horse with a horn, but the old kind that in shape and size looks like a deer, with the beard of a goat, the tail of a lion, and cloven hooves.

(((totems in another post, as this is insanely long)))

(building on this post)
I am a snow leopard. I've always been fascinated with snow leopards but never really spirit-shifted until I met SabR and Kazi, who are very conscious of their own spirit-shapes (using my own terminology for their experience because it is how I see it, but they don't necessarily agree with my thoughts on spirit-shapes). I was awed by their freedom and they encouraged me to explore myself in a similar way. I realized that I had been aware of my snow leopard self for many years, but had repressed it. When I first began to realize it, I had a friend who was a puma and took a lot of zir identity from that, so I felt like I would be stepping on zir toes if I also shifted into a big cat. Once I realized this and changed that old mindset, I began to feel my snow leopard self much more clearly. I created quite a few snow leopard icons (which is a big deal to me, as an icon is the face I wear online), added a snow leopard image to my sanctuary, and really embraced this aspect of myself. I have yet to meet a snow leopard in person -- it is something I very much long for, to be in the presence of like spirit-shapes.

In addition to an innate sensing, I resonate with most of the physical habits/qualities of the snow leopard. Snow leopards are active beginning in late evening to early morning (and I assume they sleep during the day), as am I. They hunt by watching, stalking, then making powerful leaps of four to twelve times their body length (usually from above, but still!). I feel like that is how I live my life -- observing, learning, then making sudden and powerful leaps of growth. Snow leopards are very unique in that they aren't really big cats and aren't really small cats (neither fish nor fowl, heh), which is something that I strongly resonate with as I fit into no easy category. The one thing that really puzzles me is the habitat, as I abhor the cold (but perhaps I wouldn't if I wore such a heavy coat?).



( photos of snow leopards )

The rest of these photos are of Shynghyz, a snow leopard who lives in the Tama Zoological Park in Tokyo, Japan. I felt an instant and very strong connection with this particular being, and it's a very deep wish of mine to meet zir in this lifetime... I feel like that would be such a life-altering experience for me. I've rarely (only once other than this) felt such a strong connection with any other non-human, and certainly never felt that through simply seeing a photo. The first time I saw one of zir photos, my breath just stopped and I stared and stared... seeing more photos made my heart trip and my eyes well up. Ze and I have a bond that makes me think, wonder... I always thought it was a different sort of spirit inside an animal, but maybe it's not. Maybe it's just expressed differently because we have different brains, and can't communicate easily. What does that mean? Just now, writing this, I felt a huge shift in my perception of the world...

wow. Now I'm crying... wow.

( photos of Shynghyz )

I am also an egyptian cobra (not in its natural size or color). This actually came as a surprise to me as I had never thought much about cobras or been especially drawn to them until I had a vision of myself as a huge, magnificent, shimmering white cobra (while in a trance-like state of prayer). Since then I have felt myself shift into cobra shape quite a few times -- usually when I feel the need to protect myself or someone else. Shifting into snow leopard shape is usually voluntary, whereas shifting into cobra shape happens when I need it. Both the snow leopard and the cobra are predators, but I feel very different in each shape. Snow leopard is usually a quiet, observing, sensing experience, and the occasional anger feels like a loud call to fight, blood rushing and claws out -- but cobra is always a silent knowing of power. When in cobra spirit-shape, I don't feel fury -- I feel a coiling within, an absolutely invulnerable state where I simply wait, knowing how it will end. The only emotion I feel in cobra shape is a strange kind of peaceful power (power is not exactly the right word but it is the closest I can think of) -- as though anyone attempting to damage me will fail so utterly that it's not even worth a twinge of worry or any effort to protect myself.

( cobra photos )

I'm also a north american river otter. (the species is important because I only shift into otter form when in fresh or brackish water) Otter was probably my first experience with shifting spirit-shape -- my first memory was from when I was about six years old. I so clearly remember the feeling of wildness that overcame me, this sudden breaking-away from everything, and a whole new sense of strength and agility. However I haven't really shifted or explored this since I was a child, so I feel I still have a lot to learn from/about it.

( a photo )

I think that I may also have a unicorn shape, but I have only flitted into it for seconds, so I'm not sure. Not the modern kind that's just a horse with a horn, but the old kind that in shape and size looks like a deer, with the beard of a goat, the tail of a lion, and cloven hooves.

(((totems in another post, as this is insanely long)))

(building on this post)
I am a snow leopard. I've always been fascinated with snow leopards but never really spirit-shifted until I met SabR and Kazi, who are very conscious of their own spirit-shapes (using my own terminology for their experience because it is how I see it, but they don't necessarily agree with my thoughts on spirit-shapes). I was awed by their freedom and they encouraged me to explore myself in a similar way. I realized that I had been aware of my snow leopard self for many years, but had repressed it. When I first began to realize it, I had a friend who was a puma and took a lot of zir identity from that, so I felt like I would be stepping on zir toes if I also shifted into a big cat. Once I realized this and changed that old mindset, I began to feel my snow leopard self much more clearly. I created quite a few snow leopard icons (which is a big deal to me, as an icon is the face I wear online), added a snow leopard image to my sanctuary, and really embraced this aspect of myself. I have yet to meet a snow leopard in person -- it is something I very much long for, to be in the presence of like spirit-shapes.

In addition to an innate sensing, I resonate with most of the physical habits/qualities of the snow leopard. Snow leopards are active beginning in late evening to early morning (and I assume they sleep during the day), as am I. They hunt by watching, stalking, then making powerful leaps of four to twelve times their body length (usually from above, but still!). I feel like that is how I live my life -- observing, learning, then making sudden and powerful leaps of growth. Snow leopards are very unique in that they aren't really big cats and aren't really small cats (neither fish nor fowl, heh), which is something that I strongly resonate with as I fit into no easy category. The one thing that really puzzles me is the habitat, as I abhor the cold (but perhaps I wouldn't if I wore such a heavy coat?).



( photos of snow leopards )

The rest of these photos are of Shynghyz, a snow leopard who lives in the Tama Zoological Park in Tokyo, Japan. I felt an instant and very strong connection with this particular being, and it's a very deep wish of mine to meet zir in this lifetime... I feel like that would be such a life-altering experience for me. I've rarely (only once other than this) felt such a strong connection with any other non-human, and certainly never felt that through simply seeing a photo. The first time I saw one of zir photos, my breath just stopped and I stared and stared... seeing more photos made my heart trip and my eyes well up. Ze and I have a bond that makes me think, wonder... I always thought it was a different sort of spirit inside an animal, but maybe it's not. Maybe it's just expressed differently because we have different brains, and can't communicate easily. What does that mean? Just now, writing this, I felt a huge shift in my perception of the world...

wow. Now I'm crying... wow.

( photos of Shynghyz )

I am also an egyptian cobra (not in its natural size or color). This actually came as a surprise to me as I had never thought much about cobras or been especially drawn to them until I had a vision of myself as a huge, magnificent, shimmering white cobra (while in a trance-like state of prayer). Since then I have felt myself shift into cobra shape quite a few times -- usually when I feel the need to protect myself or someone else. Shifting into snow leopard shape is usually voluntary, whereas shifting into cobra shape happens when I need it. Both the snow leopard and the cobra are predators, but I feel very different in each shape. Snow leopard is usually a quiet, observing, sensing experience, and the occasional anger feels like a loud call to fight, blood rushing and claws out -- but cobra is always a silent knowing of power. When in cobra spirit-shape, I don't feel fury -- I feel a coiling within, an absolutely invulnerable state where I simply wait, knowing how it will end. The only emotion I feel in cobra shape is a strange kind of peaceful power (power is not exactly the right word but it is the closest I can think of) -- as though anyone attempting to damage me will fail so utterly that it's not even worth a twinge of worry or any effort to protect myself.

( cobra photos )

I'm also a north american river otter. (the species is important because I only shift into otter form when in fresh or brackish water) Otter was probably my first experience with shifting spirit-shape -- my first memory was from when I was about six years old. I so clearly remember the feeling of wildness that overcame me, this sudden breaking-away from everything, and a whole new sense of strength and agility. However I haven't really shifted or explored this since I was a child, so I feel I still have a lot to learn from/about it.

( a photo )

I think that I may also have a unicorn shape, but I have only flitted into it for seconds, so I'm not sure. Not the modern kind that's just a horse with a horn, but the old kind that in shape and size looks like a deer, with the beard of a goat, the tail of a lion, and cloven hooves.

(((totems in another post, as this is insanely long)))

I dreamed that I woke up to a cobra in the bed! It bit Nimajn and then me. I was really worried and said we needed to go to the hospital but Nimajn said no, this kind is not deadly on the first bite, but only on the second or third. So I said that he needed to kill it with his axe, chop off it's head, but he said no, we can just keep it in a safe place. We put it in an aquarium with two levels, and duct-taped the wire mesh top on (with my purple duct tape). Suddenly I was very excited to have a pet cobra, had no more fear and felt so much love for it! Then I walked out of the room for something and when I came back in, my male bio-sibling had put the cobra in a four-level aquarium with no openings between levels, and put the cobra in the bottom level which was filled with water. The poor cobra had to poke his nose into the half-centimeter of air between the bottom level and the second level (which for some reason had a miniature manatee). I went over and looked at the cobra, and he smiled at me (impossible, but not in my head! it was more adorable than a kitten) and I felt this magical connection between us and knew it wouldn't bite me again. I suddenly got very angry that male bio-sib would do that to my cobra, and I dismantled the aquarium and started to re-build it. Then I woke.

I'm rather baffled by this one, considering that the Cobra is possibly my strongest spirit shape.

I dreamed that I woke up to a cobra in the bed! It bit Nimajn and then me. I was really worried and said we needed to go to the hospital but Nimajn said no, this kind is not deadly on the first bite, but only on the second or third. So I said that he needed to kill it with his axe, chop off it's head, but he said no, we can just keep it in a safe place. We put it in an aquarium with two levels, and duct-taped the wire mesh top on (with my purple duct tape). Suddenly I was very excited to have a pet cobra, had no more fear and felt so much love for it! Then I walked out of the room for something and when I came back in, my male bio-sibling had put the cobra in a four-level aquarium with no openings between levels, and put the cobra in the bottom level which was filled with water. The poor cobra had to poke his nose into the half-centimeter of air between the bottom level and the second level (which for some reason had a miniature manatee). I went over and looked at the cobra, and he smiled at me (impossible, but not in my head! it was more adorable than a kitten) and I felt this magical connection between us and knew it wouldn't bite me again. I suddenly got very angry that male bio-sib would do that to my cobra, and I dismantled the aquarium and started to re-build it. Then I woke.

I'm rather baffled by this one, considering that the Cobra is possibly my strongest spirit shape.

I dreamed that I woke up to a cobra in the bed! It bit Nimajn and then me. I was really worried and said we needed to go to the hospital but Nimajn said no, this kind is not deadly on the first bite, but only on the second or third. So I said that he needed to kill it with his axe, chop off it's head, but he said no, we can just keep it in a safe place. We put it in an aquarium with two levels, and duct-taped the wire mesh top on (with my purple duct tape). Suddenly I was very excited to have a pet cobra, had no more fear and felt so much love for it! Then I walked out of the room for something and when I came back in, my male bio-sibling had put the cobra in a four-level aquarium with no openings between levels, and put the cobra in the bottom level which was filled with water. The poor cobra had to poke his nose into the half-centimeter of air between the bottom level and the second level (which for some reason had a miniature manatee). I went over and looked at the cobra, and he smiled at me (impossible, but not in my head! it was more adorable than a kitten) and I felt this magical connection between us and knew it wouldn't bite me again. I suddenly got very angry that male bio-sib would do that to my cobra, and I dismantled the aquarium and started to re-build it. Then I woke.

I'm rather baffled by this one, considering that the Cobra is possibly my strongest spirit shape.

I heard a 'baaa' from a shed, so I peeked inside but didn't see anything and started to walk away. Then I heard it again and looked in once more, and realized it was a rattlesnake making a SHEEP noise (snake in sheep's clothing?). I turned to flee (running/flying) but the snake was very fast and bit my heel. Not to be outdone, I performed a feat of amazing flexibility in bringing my mouth next to my heel and biting him right back! (luckily in dream-reality it took a few seconds to get the venom flowing, so he hadn't poisoned me yet) I bit him sideways in a way that forced his jaw open, and after I had freed my heel I pinched his top and bottom jaw together so he couldn't bite me, and considered what to do. I started walking toward the house with the intent to flush him down the toilet (!) when I woke up.

significant: Cobra is my totem, but I have never liked rattlesnakes. dreammoods.com says they represent the passage of time... hmmm.

Last sunday, I had a 'relapse' of sorts, emotionally and spiritually. This is what was going on inside me. It wore me out to the point where I called in the next day and didn't go to work... slept all day instead.

Then Tuesday I went to group counseling, and I happened to be last to speak. I poured out my heart, basically saying all I had said in that post. There was silence for a few moments, and then my counselor began to talk to me. She got very heated, telling me that I should give up self-pity and make the choice to trust God... she said it differently but that was the gist of it. Some of the other women got uncomfortable with her directness (she was rather irate) and defended me, and she toned herself down a bit but didn't change what she was saying.

Meanwhile, my inner cobra was flaring her hood. I was furious. I held up my hand, palm toward her, and said, "I reject your judgement. That does not fall on me." I know the inner workings of me better than anyone except God, and I know that self-pity has not been a battle I've had to fight. I can't stand the role of the victim, and I certainly wouldn't wallow in it.

As she 'accused' and I 'defended,' I found myself growing stronger and stronger. I had had those doubts about myself, and as she caused me to face them head on, I realized how untrue they were. As I explained myself to her, I began to believe in myself more.

I know I have never stopped believing in God. I have never taken the easy way out! It's far, far easier simply to put aside these torturous questions and accept what someone else tells you is true -- but I refuse to do that. That's not always 'faith' -- sometimes it's just laziness, or a lack of passion -- or even fear of the answer. I believe that God is truth, and I believe that he is big enough to handle all my questions and pain and fear. I don't need to drop my questions; I need to seek the answer and be willing to accept it when I get it. No, I don't trust that God loves me, not right now, as much as I'd like to -- but some part of me must, because I still believe with my whole self that he IS Love, that he loves every human, and that he works in people's lives in response to my prayers. I've seen it, over and over again.

I don't know what it will take to get me to where I can believe that God loves me personally, deeply, fully, passionately, unreservedly, unconditionally...

... but I know I will get there.

At the end of the meeting, we all prayed together, including a specific prayer that God would give me the answer and that I'd be able to accept it, and then as people started getting up, my counselor apologized for being harsh, and I forgave her. And I asked for everyone's attention, and said that I could understand how they might feel upset with my counselor -- I would have been very upset had it been someone else she was scolding -- but that I believe that she was doing what God wanted her to. The result in my heart was positive -- not the result she was pushing for at all, but exactly the right result. I said that I thought her methods might have been somewhat questionable, but she was following God. After I finished my little speech, my counselor and I hugged, and I totally let go of any negative emotions I might have had toward her. I know she did that because she feels a little like a mother to me, and because she very passionately wants the best for me. There wasn't an unclean motive in her heart. (and I know she'd NEVER have gone off on anyone else like that, she was so completely honest; I kinda take it as a compliment) Another of the counselors came up to me and hugged me and thanked me for saying that, which filled me with the certainty that I had done the right thing. Hopefully it soothed any worried hearts.

Last sunday, I had a 'relapse' of sorts, emotionally and spiritually. This is what was going on inside me. It wore me out to the point where I called in the next day and didn't go to work... slept all day instead.

Then Tuesday I went to group counseling, and I happened to be last to speak. I poured out my heart, basically saying all I had said in that post. There was silence for a few moments, and then my counselor began to talk to me. She got very heated, telling me that I should give up self-pity and make the choice to trust God... she said it differently but that was the gist of it. Some of the other women got uncomfortable with her directness (she was rather irate) and defended me, and she toned herself down a bit but didn't change what she was saying.

Meanwhile, my inner cobra was flaring her hood. I was furious. I held up my hand, palm toward her, and said, "I reject your judgement. That does not fall on me." I know the inner workings of me better than anyone except God, and I know that self-pity has not been a battle I've had to fight. I can't stand the role of the victim, and I certainly wouldn't wallow in it.

As she 'accused' and I 'defended,' I found myself growing stronger and stronger. I had had those doubts about myself, and as she caused me to face them head on, I realized how untrue they were. As I explained myself to her, I began to believe in myself more.

I know I have never stopped believing in God. I have never taken the easy way out! It's far, far easier simply to put aside these torturous questions and accept what someone else tells you is true -- but I refuse to do that. That's not always 'faith' -- sometimes it's just laziness, or a lack of passion -- or even fear of the answer. I believe that God is truth, and I believe that he is big enough to handle all my questions and pain and fear. I don't need to drop my questions; I need to seek the answer and be willing to accept it when I get it. No, I don't trust that God loves me, not right now, as much as I'd like to -- but some part of me must, because I still believe with my whole self that he IS Love, that he loves every human, and that he works in people's lives in response to my prayers. I've seen it, over and over again.

I don't know what it will take to get me to where I can believe that God loves me personally, deeply, fully, passionately, unreservedly, unconditionally...

... but I know I will get there.

At the end of the meeting, we all prayed together, including a specific prayer that God would give me the answer and that I'd be able to accept it, and then as people started getting up, my counselor apologized for being harsh, and I forgave her. And I asked for everyone's attention, and said that I could understand how they might feel upset with my counselor -- I would have been very upset had it been someone else she was scolding -- but that I believe that she was doing what God wanted her to. The result in my heart was positive -- not the result she was pushing for at all, but exactly the right result. I said that I thought her methods might have been somewhat questionable, but she was following God. After I finished my little speech, my counselor and I hugged, and I totally let go of any negative emotions I might have had toward her. I know she did that because she feels a little like a mother to me, and because she very passionately wants the best for me. There wasn't an unclean motive in her heart. (and I know she'd NEVER have gone off on anyone else like that, she was so completely honest; I kinda take it as a compliment) Another of the counselors came up to me and hugged me and thanked me for saying that, which filled me with the certainty that I had done the right thing. Hopefully it soothed any worried hearts.

Last sunday, I had a 'relapse' of sorts, emotionally and spiritually. This is what was going on inside me. It wore me out to the point where I called in the next day and didn't go to work... slept all day instead.

Then Tuesday I went to group counseling, and I happened to be last to speak. I poured out my heart, basically saying all I had said in that post. There was silence for a few moments, and then my counselor began to talk to me. She got very heated, telling me that I should give up self-pity and make the choice to trust God... she said it differently but that was the gist of it. Some of the other women got uncomfortable with her directness (she was rather irate) and defended me, and she toned herself down a bit but didn't change what she was saying.

Meanwhile, my inner cobra was flaring her hood. I was furious. I held up my hand, palm toward her, and said, "I reject your judgement. That does not fall on me." I know the inner workings of me better than anyone except God, and I know that self-pity has not been a battle I've had to fight. I can't stand the role of the victim, and I certainly wouldn't wallow in it.

As she 'accused' and I 'defended,' I found myself growing stronger and stronger. I had had those doubts about myself, and as she caused me to face them head on, I realized how untrue they were. As I explained myself to her, I began to believe in myself more.

I know I have never stopped believing in God. I have never taken the easy way out! It's far, far easier simply to put aside these torturous questions and accept what someone else tells you is true -- but I refuse to do that. That's not always 'faith' -- sometimes it's just laziness, or a lack of passion -- or even fear of the answer. I believe that God is truth, and I believe that he is big enough to handle all my questions and pain and fear. I don't need to drop my questions; I need to seek the answer and be willing to accept it when I get it. No, I don't trust that God loves me, not right now, as much as I'd like to -- but some part of me must, because I still believe with my whole self that he IS Love, that he loves every human, and that he works in people's lives in response to my prayers. I've seen it, over and over again.

I don't know what it will take to get me to where I can believe that God loves me personally, deeply, fully, passionately, unreservedly, unconditionally...

... but I know I will get there.

At the end of the meeting, we all prayed together, including a specific prayer that God would give me the answer and that I'd be able to accept it, and then as people started getting up, my counselor apologized for being harsh, and I forgave her. And I asked for everyone's attention, and said that I could understand how they might feel upset with my counselor -- I would have been very upset had it been someone else she was scolding -- but that I believe that she was doing what God wanted her to. The result in my heart was positive -- not the result she was pushing for at all, but exactly the right result. I said that I thought her methods might have been somewhat questionable, but she was following God. After I finished my little speech, my counselor and I hugged, and I totally let go of any negative emotions I might have had toward her. I know she did that because she feels a little like a mother to me, and because she very passionately wants the best for me. There wasn't an unclean motive in her heart. (and I know she'd NEVER have gone off on anyone else like that, she was so completely honest; I kinda take it as a compliment) Another of the counselors came up to me and hugged me and thanked me for saying that, which filled me with the certainty that I had done the right thing. Hopefully it soothed any worried hearts.

This time we pinpointed the event that split me into the cobra and the waif... oddly enough, it wasn't one of those sexual abuse events. What I can remember is being about four years old, and telling my dad "no" for the first time. I can't remember what it was, probably something like he told me to put my toys away, but he got so angry... His face turned red and he pinched his lips together and told me something like "You're not allowed to say no." The effect of this was that from then on, I believed that there was nothing I could count on, and if I didn't perform, I might get kicked out, with nothing to eat and nowhere to sleep... and in every relationship I've ever had, I am afraid that if I do something wrong, then they will cease to care about me.

John says that when I am able to forgive my dad for all the effects he's had on my life, then my cobra and waif will be able to join. But before I can forgive my dad I have to have healing from all those things. My assignment, during the next two weeks, is to write down all the things that I need to forgive my dad for. Dayum.

--------

Essentially, my childhood ended at age four. From then on, in my way of thinking, I earned every bite I ate and every moment I spent under my parents' roof; I've never felt any obligation to them at all. I felt like I had employers, not parents, and I just don't have "family" feelings like most people. The bonds were broken before I even went to kindergarten. It makes me feel weird to hear people talk about how they love their parents or siblings -- mine were just housemates. I don't understand feeling secure in a family relationship, I don't understand feeling fuzzy about one's siblings, I don't understand wanting to spend time with one's family.
And of course Ben has a family that is unlike any you've ever seen -- absolutely the most functional family in this generation. So he wants to spend time with them, and I just don't get it. One at a time I like them... but all at once they frustrate me, because the family concept frustrates me. Yet sometimes I enjoy them all together... And any flaw in their family screams at me, because in my family I was the one in charge of fixing the problems, and I can't get myself out of that role; and everybody else just doesn't see it or ignores it. That, above all, is why I don't like family situations -- I feel like I need to make the kids behave and make the parents respond correctly, and it's incredibly frustrating. Not just in Ben's family or mine, but in any place where I'm around a parent and child. Apart I enjoy their company -- together I want to yell at them or run away.

This time we pinpointed the event that split me into the cobra and the waif... oddly enough, it wasn't one of those sexual abuse events. What I can remember is being about four years old, and telling my dad "no" for the first time. I can't remember what it was, probably something like he told me to put my toys away, but he got so angry... His face turned red and he pinched his lips together and told me something like "You're not allowed to say no." The effect of this was that from then on, I believed that there was nothing I could count on, and if I didn't perform, I might get kicked out, with nothing to eat and nowhere to sleep... and in every relationship I've ever had, I am afraid that if I do something wrong, then they will cease to care about me.

John says that when I am able to forgive my dad for all the effects he's had on my life, then my cobra and waif will be able to join. But before I can forgive my dad I have to have healing from all those things. My assignment, during the next two weeks, is to write down all the things that I need to forgive my dad for. Dayum.

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Essentially, my childhood ended at age four. From then on, in my way of thinking, I earned every bite I ate and every moment I spent under my parents' roof; I've never felt any obligation to them at all. I felt like I had employers, not parents, and I just don't have "family" feelings like most people. The bonds were broken before I even went to kindergarten. It makes me feel weird to hear people talk about how they love their parents or siblings -- mine were just housemates. I don't understand feeling secure in a family relationship, I don't understand feeling fuzzy about one's siblings, I don't understand wanting to spend time with one's family.
And of course Ben has a family that is unlike any you've ever seen -- absolutely the most functional family in this generation. So he wants to spend time with them, and I just don't get it. One at a time I like them... but all at once they frustrate me, because the family concept frustrates me. Yet sometimes I enjoy them all together... And any flaw in their family screams at me, because in my family I was the one in charge of fixing the problems, and I can't get myself out of that role; and everybody else just doesn't see it or ignores it. That, above all, is why I don't like family situations -- I feel like I need to make the kids behave and make the parents respond correctly, and it's incredibly frustrating. Not just in Ben's family or mine, but in any place where I'm around a parent and child. Apart I enjoy their company -- together I want to yell at them or run away.

This time we pinpointed the event that split me into the cobra and the waif... oddly enough, it wasn't one of those sexual abuse events. What I can remember is being about four years old, and telling my dad "no" for the first time. I can't remember what it was, probably something like he told me to put my toys away, but he got so angry... His face turned red and he pinched his lips together and told me something like "You're not allowed to say no." The effect of this was that from then on, I believed that there was nothing I could count on, and if I didn't perform, I might get kicked out, with nothing to eat and nowhere to sleep... and in every relationship I've ever had, I am afraid that if I do something wrong, then they will cease to care about me.

John says that when I am able to forgive my dad for all the effects he's had on my life, then my cobra and waif will be able to join. But before I can forgive my dad I have to have healing from all those things. My assignment, during the next two weeks, is to write down all the things that I need to forgive my dad for. Dayum.

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Essentially, my childhood ended at age four. From then on, in my way of thinking, I earned every bite I ate and every moment I spent under my parents' roof; I've never felt any obligation to them at all. I felt like I had employers, not parents, and I just don't have "family" feelings like most people. The bonds were broken before I even went to kindergarten. It makes me feel weird to hear people talk about how they love their parents or siblings -- mine were just housemates. I don't understand feeling secure in a family relationship, I don't understand feeling fuzzy about one's siblings, I don't understand wanting to spend time with one's family.
And of course Ben has a family that is unlike any you've ever seen -- absolutely the most functional family in this generation. So he wants to spend time with them, and I just don't get it. One at a time I like them... but all at once they frustrate me, because the family concept frustrates me. Yet sometimes I enjoy them all together... And any flaw in their family screams at me, because in my family I was the one in charge of fixing the problems, and I can't get myself out of that role; and everybody else just doesn't see it or ignores it. That, above all, is why I don't like family situations -- I feel like I need to make the kids behave and make the parents respond correctly, and it's incredibly frustrating. Not just in Ben's family or mine, but in any place where I'm around a parent and child. Apart I enjoy their company -- together I want to yell at them or run away.

To just give a quick summary this time, I learned:

1. If I feel guilty and I don't know why, it's false guilt, and I'm to throw it out. The purpose of my conscience is to let me know that, at my level of maturity, a certain action is to be avoided. Its purpose is NOT to make me feel worthless and deserving of punishment. (that sodomizing memory was apparently inflicted as 'punishment' without any explanation of what I did, leading me to believe that if bad stuff happened to me, it was because I did something wrong. Not true, God said.)

2. If I have an image of God as anything other than loving, it isn't a true image and I can/should throw it out. The Bible says God is Love.

3. God is NEVER mad/angry/etc. at me; when he looks at me he sees perfection, he sees Jesus; and how can he be angry at or disappointed in Jesus? God reminded me of the caterpillar; although it cannot yet fly, by all scientific tests it is nonetheless a butterfly. That's me; though I am not yet all I will be, in every important way I am already my future wonderful self -- and that it what God sees.

------------

Also, my Cobra self accepted my scapegoat self, and when they blended, the formerly-white Cobra turned violet and emerald, still with the same shimmery sheen. That took a lot of convincing -- my Cobra self had to learn that it was okay to fail, and that I needed to own my failures in order to stop being afraid of failing. My little-girl self had to overcome her intense fear of the scapegoat to allow it to join.

I'm writing this from a week and a half after it happened, and I have been much stronger since the blending of my Cobra and scapegoat selves.

To just give a quick summary this time, I learned:

1. If I feel guilty and I don't know why, it's false guilt, and I'm to throw it out. The purpose of my conscience is to let me know that, at my level of maturity, a certain action is to be avoided. Its purpose is NOT to make me feel worthless and deserving of punishment. (that sodomizing memory was apparently inflicted as 'punishment' without any explanation of what I did, leading me to believe that if bad stuff happened to me, it was because I did something wrong. Not true, God said.)

2. If I have an image of God as anything other than loving, it isn't a true image and I can/should throw it out. The Bible says God is Love.

3. God is NEVER mad/angry/etc. at me; when he looks at me he sees perfection, he sees Jesus; and how can he be angry at or disappointed in Jesus? God reminded me of the caterpillar; although it cannot yet fly, by all scientific tests it is nonetheless a butterfly. That's me; though I am not yet all I will be, in every important way I am already my future wonderful self -- and that it what God sees.

------------

Also, my Cobra self accepted my scapegoat self, and when they blended, the formerly-white Cobra turned violet and emerald, still with the same shimmery sheen. That took a lot of convincing -- my Cobra self had to learn that it was okay to fail, and that I needed to own my failures in order to stop being afraid of failing. My little-girl self had to overcome her intense fear of the scapegoat to allow it to join.

I'm writing this from a week and a half after it happened, and I have been much stronger since the blending of my Cobra and scapegoat selves.

To just give a quick summary this time, I learned:

1. If I feel guilty and I don't know why, it's false guilt, and I'm to throw it out. The purpose of my conscience is to let me know that, at my level of maturity, a certain action is to be avoided. Its purpose is NOT to make me feel worthless and deserving of punishment. (that sodomizing memory was apparently inflicted as 'punishment' without any explanation of what I did, leading me to believe that if bad stuff happened to me, it was because I did something wrong. Not true, God said.)

2. If I have an image of God as anything other than loving, it isn't a true image and I can/should throw it out. The Bible says God is Love.

3. God is NEVER mad/angry/etc. at me; when he looks at me he sees perfection, he sees Jesus; and how can he be angry at or disappointed in Jesus? God reminded me of the caterpillar; although it cannot yet fly, by all scientific tests it is nonetheless a butterfly. That's me; though I am not yet all I will be, in every important way I am already my future wonderful self -- and that it what God sees.

------------

Also, my Cobra self accepted my scapegoat self, and when they blended, the formerly-white Cobra turned violet and emerald, still with the same shimmery sheen. That took a lot of convincing -- my Cobra self had to learn that it was okay to fail, and that I needed to own my failures in order to stop being afraid of failing. My little-girl self had to overcome her intense fear of the scapegoat to allow it to join.

I'm writing this from a week and a half after it happened, and I have been much stronger since the blending of my Cobra and scapegoat selves.

Theophostic again -- and an awesome thing happened. We went through ( a memory ) which planted in me the lie that what was sacred to me was silly to others, and asked Jesus what he wanted to say to me about that. He (Jesus) said that what people don't understand seems silly to them, but that whatever is sacred to me is sacred to him. He added that I am sacred to him. ( ... )

Here's the awesome part: I asked Jesus to wash me -- and I saw living water curl around my naked spirit-self, starting at my feet and swirling around my legs, around my belly, and finally flowing off my arms, and I felt cleansed. Then Jesus stood in front of me and reached out his right hand, palm toward me, and placed it over my heart. When he pulled his hand back, there was a beautiful, glowing silver brand on my chest. I couldn't see it very clearly -- it shimmered a bit -- but it was ovalish, with a delicate design -- so glimmeringly fascinating. When I die I'll be sure to look at it more closely. ;-) Then he pulled me into his lap and held me.

I'm not sure if I've mentioned it before, but when we pray through these things the sting is gone from the memory -- the first time I open the memory it brings up all those feelings, but after we pray through it I think over the memory and its power to make me feel violated is gone. If it isn't gone after the first prayer, we pray over the part that still bothers me until it's gone. I can flip through these memories and not feel any yuckiness: but until we go through ALL of them I'll still feel that tinge of dread at opening my mind.

More good news: there is a new part of my mind that I think is the beginning of a healed me, 'cause she looks like me. Today she told the beautiful cobra that she needed to stop hiding my memories and let me go through them, and the cobra agreed; so today was much less inner fighting and more actual healing. I've been dreading theophostic 'cause it has been such hard work to pry the memories out, but it will be much easier now. The cobra was very impressed with how Jesus handled the first memory, and very impressed with how much better the four-year-old looked; she actually smiled today.


The second memory was much harder; it was about my friend Karen. ( two-fold ) I've always been very connected with the spirits of those I love, so I felt much of her feelings as my own. We had opened this memory last time but not had enough time to go through it totally, so we went back into it today, and I think there must be a closely related memory still to go through, 'cause I'm not through being bothered by that one.

The most potent thing about that memory was my helplessness. I didn't know what to do (I was only seven) and my whole being cried out, "Do something!" but I was trapped by my youth and belief that older people were always right. So when we asked Jesus to talk to me about it, he stressed again that age/authority is not always right, and that truth is more important than authority. I asked how I could live that way, and he said for me to question everything I do with why, and if it is for authority other than him (or him speaking through others in a way I see as truth), not to do it. He also told me that he may have let me experience terrible things, but he never left me or looked away; he always had his hand over my heart. After he said that I felt a shield over me; when Karen's brother laid on top of me, I couldn't feel it, and I no longer felt helpless; instead I felt protected.

I also was terribly angry -- oh, I would have delightedly slaughtered Karen's brother had I had the chance. Last time John had asked if I would give my anger to Jesus and I said, "No." Today he asked again, and since Jesus had just built my trust I said yes, figuring that he's more powerful and can do more damage to Karen's brother than I could. Some of the anger began to slip, and I protested to God, "but it isn't fair that he should get away with it!" and he said quietly that no one ever gets away with it -- that doing such things destroys the soul more surely than AIDS destroys the body. Thinking on how merely being the victim can eat at a soul, my anger eased greatly; he may try to drown it in porn or drugs or whatever, but he'll experience a lot more hell than I ever will. After Jesus said that, I went through the memory again, and instead of seeing Karen's brother as a fearsome aggressor, I saw him as he really was -- a skulking, miserable creature, full of fear himself. I didn't feel pity, mind you, but I didn't feel hate either.

Lastly, I had to give up carrying Karen's burden. I can pray for her, but holding her wounds in my heart will do no good and cause me pain. That was difficult, but I'll start praying for her. I think she was actually my favorite friend, but as I grew up my mind hid so many memories of her that she has been a haze in my mind. She is a beautiful person -- I wonder if I will see her again.

Theophostic again -- and an awesome thing happened. We went through ( a memory ) which planted in me the lie that what was sacred to me was silly to others, and asked Jesus what he wanted to say to me about that. He (Jesus) said that what people don't understand seems silly to them, but that whatever is sacred to me is sacred to him. He added that I am sacred to him. ( ... )

Here's the awesome part: I asked Jesus to wash me -- and I saw living water curl around my naked spirit-self, starting at my feet and swirling around my legs, around my belly, and finally flowing off my arms, and I felt cleansed. Then Jesus stood in front of me and reached out his right hand, palm toward me, and placed it over my heart. When he pulled his hand back, there was a beautiful, glowing silver brand on my chest. I couldn't see it very clearly -- it shimmered a bit -- but it was ovalish, with a delicate design -- so glimmeringly fascinating. When I die I'll be sure to look at it more closely. ;-) Then he pulled me into his lap and held me.

I'm not sure if I've mentioned it before, but when we pray through these things the sting is gone from the memory -- the first time I open the memory it brings up all those feelings, but after we pray through it I think over the memory and its power to make me feel violated is gone. If it isn't gone after the first prayer, we pray over the part that still bothers me until it's gone. I can flip through these memories and not feel any yuckiness: but until we go through ALL of them I'll still feel that tinge of dread at opening my mind.

More good news: there is a new part of my mind that I think is the beginning of a healed me, 'cause she looks like me. Today she told the beautiful cobra that she needed to stop hiding my memories and let me go through them, and the cobra agreed; so today was much less inner fighting and more actual healing. I've been dreading theophostic 'cause it has been such hard work to pry the memories out, but it will be much easier now. The cobra was very impressed with how Jesus handled the first memory, and very impressed with how much better the four-year-old looked; she actually smiled today.


The second memory was much harder; it was about my friend Karen. ( two-fold ) I've always been very connected with the spirits of those I love, so I felt much of her feelings as my own. We had opened this memory last time but not had enough time to go through it totally, so we went back into it today, and I think there must be a closely related memory still to go through, 'cause I'm not through being bothered by that one.

The most potent thing about that memory was my helplessness. I didn't know what to do (I was only seven) and my whole being cried out, "Do something!" but I was trapped by my youth and belief that older people were always right. So when we asked Jesus to talk to me about it, he stressed again that age/authority is not always right, and that truth is more important than authority. I asked how I could live that way, and he said for me to question everything I do with why, and if it is for authority other than him (or him speaking through others in a way I see as truth), not to do it. He also told me that he may have let me experience terrible things, but he never left me or looked away; he always had his hand over my heart. After he said that I felt a shield over me; when Karen's brother laid on top of me, I couldn't feel it, and I no longer felt helpless; instead I felt protected.

I also was terribly angry -- oh, I would have delightedly slaughtered Karen's brother had I had the chance. Last time John had asked if I would give my anger to Jesus and I said, "No." Today he asked again, and since Jesus had just built my trust I said yes, figuring that he's more powerful and can do more damage to Karen's brother than I could. Some of the anger began to slip, and I protested to God, "but it isn't fair that he should get away with it!" and he said quietly that no one ever gets away with it -- that doing such things destroys the soul more surely than AIDS destroys the body. Thinking on how merely being the victim can eat at a soul, my anger eased greatly; he may try to drown it in porn or drugs or whatever, but he'll experience a lot more hell than I ever will. After Jesus said that, I went through the memory again, and instead of seeing Karen's brother as a fearsome aggressor, I saw him as he really was -- a skulking, miserable creature, full of fear himself. I didn't feel pity, mind you, but I didn't feel hate either.

Lastly, I had to give up carrying Karen's burden. I can pray for her, but holding her wounds in my heart will do no good and cause me pain. That was difficult, but I'll start praying for her. I think she was actually my favorite friend, but as I grew up my mind hid so many memories of her that she has been a haze in my mind. She is a beautiful person -- I wonder if I will see her again.

Kristen is a happy gir'!
Theophostic again -- and an awesome thing happened. We went through ( a memory ) which planted in me the lie that what was sacred to me was silly to others, and asked Jesus what he wanted to say to me about that. He (Jesus) said that what people don't understand seems silly to them, but that whatever is sacred to me is sacred to him. He added that I am sacred to him. ( ... )

Here's the awesome part: I asked Jesus to wash me -- and I saw living water curl around my naked spirit-self, starting at my feet and swirling around my legs, around my belly, and finally flowing off my arms, and I felt cleansed. Then Jesus stood in front of me and reached out his right hand, palm toward me, and placed it over my heart. When he pulled his hand back, there was a beautiful, glowing silver brand on my chest. I couldn't see it very clearly -- it shimmered a bit -- but it was ovalish, with a delicate design -- so glimmeringly fascinating. When I die I'll be sure to look at it more closely. ;-) Then he pulled me into his lap and held me.

I'm not sure if I've mentioned it before, but when we pray through these things the sting is gone from the memory -- the first time I open the memory it brings up all those feelings, but after we pray through it I think over the memory and its power to make me feel violated is gone. If it isn't gone after the first prayer, we pray over the part that still bothers me until it's gone. I can flip through these memories and not feel any yuckiness: but until we go through ALL of them I'll still feel that tinge of dread at opening my mind.

More good news: there is a new part of my mind that I think is the beginning of a healed me, 'cause she looks like me. Today she told the beautiful cobra that she needed to stop hiding my memories and let me go through them, and the cobra agreed; so today was much less inner fighting and more actual healing. I've been dreading theophostic 'cause it has been such hard work to pry the memories out, but it will be much easier now. The cobra was very impressed with how Jesus handled the first memory, and very impressed with how much better the four-year-old looked; she actually smiled today.


The second memory was much harder; it was about my friend Karen. ( two-fold ) I've always been very connected with the spirits of those I love, so I felt much of her feelings as my own. We had opened this memory last time but not had enough time to go through it totally, so we went back into it today, and I think there must be a closely related memory still to go through, 'cause I'm not through being bothered by that one.

The most potent thing about that memory was my helplessness. I didn't know what to do (I was only seven) and my whole being cried out, "Do something!" but I was trapped by my youth and belief that older people were always right. So when we asked Jesus to talk to me about it, he stressed again that age/authority is not always right, and that truth is more important than authority. I asked how I could live that way, and he said for me to question everything I do with why, and if it is for authority other than him (or him speaking through others in a way I see as truth), not to do it. He also told me that he may have let me experience terrible things, but he never left me or looked away; he always had his hand over my heart. After he said that I felt a shield over me; when Karen's brother laid on top of me, I couldn't feel it, and I no longer felt helpless; instead I felt protected.

I also was terribly angry -- oh, I would have delightedly slaughtered Karen's brother had I had the chance. Last time John had asked if I would give my anger to Jesus and I said, "No." Today he asked again, and since Jesus had just built my trust I said yes, figuring that he's more powerful and can do more damage to Karen's brother than I could. Some of the anger began to slip, and I protested to God, "but it isn't fair that he should get away with it!" and he said quietly that no one ever gets away with it -- that doing such things destroys the soul more surely than AIDS destroys the body. Thinking on how merely being the victim can eat at a soul, my anger eased greatly; he may try to drown it in porn or drugs or whatever, but he'll experience a lot more hell than I ever will. After Jesus said that, I went through the memory again, and instead of seeing Karen's brother as a fearsome aggressor, I saw him as he really was -- a skulking, miserable creature, full of fear himself. I didn't feel pity, mind you, but I didn't feel hate either.

Lastly, I had to give up carrying Karen's burden. I can pray for her, but holding her wounds in my heart will do no good and cause me pain. That was difficult, but I'll start praying for her. I think she was actually my favorite friend, but as I grew up my mind hid so many memories of her that she has been a haze in my mind. She is a beautiful person -- I wonder if I will see her again.

This theophostic stuff is exhausting. Today we unearthed a demon who I let separate my soul and spirit so that I would not feel my spirit's pain. That's pretty freaky, right there. All this time I'm like, "Why can't I connect with myself? What is it that keeps me continually feeling half-alive?" So we found it. And at first he was arrogant and hissing at John, saying that John didn't have the authority to make him leave (which he didn't, 'cause I had given him that power) and he had his hand clenched around my heart. After I prayed, saying that I renounced the agreement, and commanded him to stop separating my soul and spirit, he let go of my heart like it burned his hand. But he still was arrogant, and John made him confess why he still had power, and he said that he had control of my ankles (and laughed). Apparently I made a contract, in deeds, not words, with this demon to keep me from falling (or failing) because I didn't trust the path that God wanted to lead me on. In return, the demon got to keep me away from living a full life. When I renounced that agreement, he crossed his arms and pouted, but didn't leave until John commanded him to in Jesus' name. Then he started to slink out like a resentful dog, and my spirit got irritated and also commanded him to go (in a shouting internal voice), and then he fled.

This stuff is a stretch even for me... seeing these things inside me without seeing them. It's like theophostic is in a sense teaching me to see the spiritual world (as well as cleansing me). My mind is in two main parts right now. One is a huge gorgeous white cobra, which when standing is six-feet-tall (not counting the coils) -- she inspires near awe in me when I see her. I'm just amazed that part of my mind is so incredibly beautiful. She kind of shimmers iridescent, and she projects a strength and wisdom that makes me love her. (the cobra isn't what I'd have expected, I like cobras but they aren't my favorite) The other part of me is a starved four-year-old girl. She is so delicate, with huge dark circles under her eyes and an intense, frightening vulnerability. The cobra wraps her up and holds her; and since she doesn't have much strength, the little girl sleeps almost all the time. And the cobra protects her, and hides the memories that would hurt the little girl. Unfortunately, you can't stitch up a wound when it has bandages over it, so all that stuff has to come up and be healed, one by one.

I now understand why I have such a hard time believing this stuff, and why so many of the memories don't make sense. John explained that my mind is trying to hide these memories, and the best way to do that is to make me believe that they aren't real. So these memories that are coming up have false images superimposed on them. (In a memory today I realized that I didn't recognize the man in the memory because my mind has superimposed an image of a Ken doll over him to make the memory seem nicer, prettier. It had also superimposed a picture of the wrong house to make me disbelieve the memory -- after some peeling we discovered this) He says that after I go through a memory that I truly believe, it will open up everything -- and it will hurt, but it will all heal much faster then. And how will I be able to believe the memory? I'll feel the pain of it. I both look forward to that and dread it. And I dread that one fact, whatever it is, that leads to the avalanche...

But after I'm healed, then I can believe that rape is not the annihilation of a soul, and that healing is possible, and I will be able to trust God fully for the first time. After all, how can you trust God if you feel like he lets humans utterly destroy other humans? He's all powerful, and killing someone else's soul should be where he draws the line, right? But if rape isn't the killing of a soul, if it is a terrible destruction that nonetheless can be healed on earth, then I can believe that he allows free will even to that point. And I believe that those who survive rape and don't give up on life are the most beautiful, strong, powerful people that live. As bad as whatever I went through may be, when I am healed I will be proud to be one of the glowing ones.

This theophostic stuff is exhausting. Today we unearthed a demon who I let separate my soul and spirit so that I would not feel my spirit's pain. That's pretty freaky, right there. All this time I'm like, "Why can't I connect with myself? What is it that keeps me continually feeling half-alive?" So we found it. And at first he was arrogant and hissing at John, saying that John didn't have the authority to make him leave (which he didn't, 'cause I had given him that power) and he had his hand clenched around my heart. After I prayed, saying that I renounced the agreement, and commanded him to stop separating my soul and spirit, he let go of my heart like it burned his hand. But he still was arrogant, and John made him confess why he still had power, and he said that he had control of my ankles (and laughed). Apparently I made a contract, in deeds, not words, with this demon to keep me from falling (or failing) because I didn't trust the path that God wanted to lead me on. In return, the demon got to keep me away from living a full life. When I renounced that agreement, he crossed his arms and pouted, but didn't leave until John commanded him to in Jesus' name. Then he started to slink out like a resentful dog, and my spirit got irritated and also commanded him to go (in a shouting internal voice), and then he fled.

This stuff is a stretch even for me... seeing these things inside me without seeing them. It's like theophostic is in a sense teaching me to see the spiritual world (as well as cleansing me). My mind is in two main parts right now. One is a huge gorgeous white cobra, which when standing is six-feet-tall (not counting the coils) -- she inspires near awe in me when I see her. I'm just amazed that part of my mind is so incredibly beautiful. She kind of shimmers iridescent, and she projects a strength and wisdom that makes me love her. (the cobra isn't what I'd have expected, I like cobras but they aren't my favorite) The other part of me is a starved four-year-old girl. She is so delicate, with huge dark circles under her eyes and an intense, frightening vulnerability. The cobra wraps her up and holds her; and since she doesn't have much strength, the little girl sleeps almost all the time. And the cobra protects her, and hides the memories that would hurt the little girl. Unfortunately, you can't stitch up a wound when it has bandages over it, so all that stuff has to come up and be healed, one by one.

I now understand why I have such a hard time believing this stuff, and why so many of the memories don't make sense. John explained that my mind is trying to hide these memories, and the best way to do that is to make me believe that they aren't real. So these memories that are coming up have false images superimposed on them. (In a memory today I realized that I didn't recognize the man in the memory because my mind has superimposed an image of a Ken doll over him to make the memory seem nicer, prettier. It had also superimposed a picture of the wrong house to make me disbelieve the memory -- after some peeling we discovered this) He says that after I go through a memory that I truly believe, it will open up everything -- and it will hurt, but it will all heal much faster then. And how will I be able to believe the memory? I'll feel the pain of it. I both look forward to that and dread it. And I dread that one fact, whatever it is, that leads to the avalanche...

But after I'm healed, then I can believe that rape is not the annihilation of a soul, and that healing is possible, and I will be able to trust God fully for the first time. After all, how can you trust God if you feel like he lets humans utterly destroy other humans? He's all powerful, and killing someone else's soul should be where he draws the line, right? But if rape isn't the killing of a soul, if it is a terrible destruction that nonetheless can be healed on earth, then I can believe that he allows free will even to that point. And I believe that those who survive rape and don't give up on life are the most beautiful, strong, powerful people that live. As bad as whatever I went through may be, when I am healed I will be proud to be one of the glowing ones.

This theophostic stuff is exhausting. Today we unearthed a demon who I let separate my soul and spirit so that I would not feel my spirit's pain. That's pretty freaky, right there. All this time I'm like, "Why can't I connect with myself? What is it that keeps me continually feeling half-alive?" So we found it. And at first he was arrogant and hissing at John, saying that John didn't have the authority to make him leave (which he didn't, 'cause I had given him that power) and he had his hand clenched around my heart. After I prayed, saying that I renounced the agreement, and commanded him to stop separating my soul and spirit, he let go of my heart like it burned his hand. But he still was arrogant, and John made him confess why he still had power, and he said that he had control of my ankles (and laughed). Apparently I made a contract, in deeds, not words, with this demon to keep me from falling (or failing) because I didn't trust the path that God wanted to lead me on. In return, the demon got to keep me away from living a full life. When I renounced that agreement, he crossed his arms and pouted, but didn't leave until John commanded him to in Jesus' name. Then he started to slink out like a resentful dog, and my spirit got irritated and also commanded him to go (in a shouting internal voice), and then he fled.

This stuff is a stretch even for me... seeing these things inside me without seeing them. It's like theophostic is in a sense teaching me to see the spiritual world (as well as cleansing me). My mind is in two main parts right now. One is a huge gorgeous white cobra, which when standing is six-feet-tall (not counting the coils) -- she inspires near awe in me when I see her. I'm just amazed that part of my mind is so incredibly beautiful. She kind of shimmers iridescent, and she projects a strength and wisdom that makes me love her. (the cobra isn't what I'd have expected, I like cobras but they aren't my favorite) The other part of me is a starved four-year-old girl. She is so delicate, with huge dark circles under her eyes and an intense, frightening vulnerability. The cobra wraps her up and holds her; and since she doesn't have much strength, the little girl sleeps almost all the time. And the cobra protects her, and hides the memories that would hurt the little girl. Unfortunately, you can't stitch up a wound when it has bandages over it, so all that stuff has to come up and be healed, one by one.

I now understand why I have such a hard time believing this stuff, and why so many of the memories don't make sense. John explained that my mind is trying to hide these memories, and the best way to do that is to make me believe that they aren't real. So these memories that are coming up have false images superimposed on them. (In a memory today I realized that I didn't recognize the man in the memory because my mind has superimposed an image of a Ken doll over him to make the memory seem nicer, prettier. It had also superimposed a picture of the wrong house to make me disbelieve the memory -- after some peeling we discovered this) He says that after I go through a memory that I truly believe, it will open up everything -- and it will hurt, but it will all heal much faster then. And how will I be able to believe the memory? I'll feel the pain of it. I both look forward to that and dread it. And I dread that one fact, whatever it is, that leads to the avalanche...

But after I'm healed, then I can believe that rape is not the annihilation of a soul, and that healing is possible, and I will be able to trust God fully for the first time. After all, how can you trust God if you feel like he lets humans utterly destroy other humans? He's all powerful, and killing someone else's soul should be where he draws the line, right? But if rape isn't the killing of a soul, if it is a terrible destruction that nonetheless can be healed on earth, then I can believe that he allows free will even to that point. And I believe that those who survive rape and don't give up on life are the most beautiful, strong, powerful people that live. As bad as whatever I went through may be, when I am healed I will be proud to be one of the glowing ones.