My Response to Bessel van der Kolk

    
    No, my body does not “keep score”. My body does not “keep” anything other than the necessary parts and processes with which it needs to function and thrive. When my body is hurt, it will either heal or die, but I will take care of it regardless. My body is God’s plaything. My body is the harbinger of the creative spirit and Life itself. My body is not a scorekeeper; it is a portal.

Popular posts from this blog

Ins & Outs For 2025

Image
My version <3 As follows: INS: Gratitude. Self agency. Daily walks. Consuming some form of animal-based protein daily (non-negotiable). Raw organ meat. Perfecting the art of the blowjob (always in). Daily stretching (hips and legs especially). Reading fiction. Reaching out to the people you’ve been avoiding for no reason other than your own mental abstractions about not being good enough and strong feelings of shame. You know which people. You care about them deeply, and they deserve to hear from you. Reaching out to your relatives on a regular basis, especially your grandparents. Honesty. Even when it’s painfully awkward  and hurtful to acknowledge out loud. Saying no/revoking consent/being rude when necessary. Probiotics. Lending Grace to others, and perhaps more importantly, yourself. OUTS Frequent complaining. Purchasing excessive supplements and skincare products (which typically do more harm than good anyway). Learned helplessness. Abilify. Shame-spirals. Plant-based diets...
Read more

Thirsting For Vengeance While Seeking Grace

     In my experience, forgiveness is something akin to a revelation. Forgiveness is bestowed upon me and expanded within me. It is through the grace of God that I am able to forgive, as I find myself unable to evoke the same response within me of my own accord.       When I have been wronged, the feelings of acrid resentment and the hot sting of shame, a hardening in my throat, and a strong undercurrent of fear begin to fester within me. My archaic lizard brain goes into overdrive, flooding my veins with adrenaline and cortisol. Then I feel the nauseating waves of shame; how could I have been so stupid? Why did I allow this to happen? How quickly this fear and shame mutates into rage.      There have been many nights where I’ve wanted to kill you. I want to believe that I would be capable of doing it myself. I want your rotting teeth ripped out one by one. I want your genitals shoved into a meat grinder. I want your fat white thighs sl...
Read more

A Short New Year Reflection

          Treading lightly into the new year; not timidly, but with intentionality in each and every step -  hyper-aware of the frigid winter wind that whips my hair across my cheeks and into my field of vision. I am attentive to the high-pitched whistle of her voice and the bitter intensity of her kiss. She is just as intense as I am.      I am attentive to the cadence of his voice and the softness of his kiss. I am overjoyed when his eyes smile into mine and how they wander across and down my frame. I am endlessly inspired when he talks frantically about the history of music and menswear and Thomas Ligotti and the ancient mystery cults of antiquity. I am proud of the way he grabs me and digs his fingertips into my skin and the marks that they leave. I am comforted by the fact that nothing is ever left unsaid between us, even if we don’t explicitly say it.
Read more