Share Your Shame (Blog)

[missing]

Originally Posted by carenkh

But that's not living the truth. That is never, ever anyone's only worth. To reinforce a lie is not helpful; to support the lowest vision anyone has for themselves does them no good - even if it's the *only* vision they have.

there is nothing wrong with being physically attractive and seeing worth in it. Even our personalities, while we like to claim it's something we bring on ourselves, is more a result of the kind of inborn temperament we were born with. Looks are the same way. Worth is worth. If somebody abuses or mis-interprets their worth, that doesn't mean it's no longer worth. It just means the individual improperly interprets it to their own detriment.

Ergo, stripping is only negative in the sense you describe, if the one doing the stripping interprets it in a negative fashion. It's got nothing to do with stripping itself. If a woman strips to "confirm" her only worth is in looks, chances are she thought that before she started stripping.

[missing]

Originally Posted by Matt Willard

Rose, I dig the hell out of your story. It seems perfect to me. You see, I was also one of those kids. Not really popular, not really allowed out of the house. (Eventually I came to realize that popularity is overrated, but that's something else.) A thing I love to read about in stories is justice, retribution for being wronged. It feels good to feel that something ended fairly, that you got the last laugh. And, you see, it works because I got the background behind it. If you were a fictional character, due to that and my own life experiences, I could easily get in your corner.

I'm just saying it felt righteously awesome :V

Yea, it's the whole "revenge" aspect that is appealing about Rose's story. Most of us have been "wronged" and long to get back at those responsible. When we can, it feels very "right". The fact that she threw away a bunch of money that might have helped a good cause just can't compete with that feeling. Morality tends to be an emotional thing rather than a reasoned one. I'm not saying that we should embrace this and make all our decisions about how something feels. It's possible that what Rose did was very "wrong". But you can't really blame yourself when the feelings of self-righteousness do not go away with time. Especially when negative feelings, like shame, are supposed to pop up in place and make you want to apologize (even if by anonymous action)?

Aside from that, apology has got to be one of the most overrated things, but that's another topic...

[Rose of Cairo]

Honestly, I don't understand why everybody seems to find my story so funny. Can't you see how much pain a kid must have to do such a thing?

Originally Posted by missing

But you can't really blame yourself when the feelings of self-righteousness do not go away with time.

Hmm.. but I don't think it was "right" of me to do it. I don't feel sorry for it, doesn't mean I think it was right. I guess I don't feel sorry because I still have some of this old pain in me, preventing me from being compassionate.

Even when I did it back then, I didn't feel it was "right". I felt very weak and needy and wanting to be loved. I also felt humiliated that those kids forbade me to join them and have fun with them, and then gave me the money to bring away, like to a footman. I was angry when I threw this money away, for me it was a way of swearing: I WILL get out of this weakness and till then I'll have this debt hanging over me.

Originally Posted by Matt Willard

It feels good to feel that something ended fairly, that you got the last laugh.

Where did it end fairly? Those kids never knew I had thrown it away. They thought the charity had gotten it. So for them, the show was a success and they did a good action. And those who needed the money (and who never did anything to me) didn't get the benefits from it. As for me, I didn't get the last laugh. I still was feeling weak and needy and wanting to be loved, and the other kids still mobbed me just like before.

No, I really don't see where this is a good revenge.

It feels more like something I did against myself than like something I did against them.

Originally Posted by seeker5

Wonderful, so sharing it on here has helped then remove those negative feelings from it, just in a different way then you expected!

Yes. I realized after writing it down that what I was feeling ashamed for was my past weakness and neediness that I also was ashamed for as a kid, not the stealing itself. This made me angry, I thought "How dare I be ashamed of what I am (or once was)?!! " So I sent some Love to Teenager Rose, hugged her and told her she's loved no matter how needy and weak she is. Now I don't feel ashamed anymore.

I still think I can only give the money back when I'll be able to let go of all this old pain. I'm not there yet. But I have a debt to remind me of this task Getting rid of the shame was a good thing. So, thanks to all for listening, and thanks to Steve for this article. I don't hate you anymore now Steve

[Matt Willard]

Originally Posted by Rose of Cairo

Where did it end fairly? Those kids never knew I had thrown it away. They thought the charity had gotten it. So for them, the show was a success and they did a good action. And those who needed the money (and who never did anything to me) didn't get the benefits from it. As for me, I didn't get the last laugh. I still was feeling weak and needy and wanting to be loved, and the other kids still mobbed me just like before.

No, I really don't see where this is a good revenge.

It feels more like something I did against myself than like something I did against them.

It wasn't the right thing to do by all means, but...I don't know. It just feels satisfying. And I know that's coming from my own perspective as a kid who got pushed around until he decided he wasn't going to take that crap anymore. Perhaps it's because I'm an aspiring fiction writer, and one of the themes I want to pursue in my work is justice and vengeance.

I'm just saying it'd make a great story. But what's important is that you've released that shame and you're more the ready to amend it, and hey, that's great.

[Rose of Cairo]

Originally Posted by Matt Willard

And I know that's coming from my own perspective as a kid who got pushed around until he decided he wasn't going to take that crap anymore.

I'm sending much Love to the Little Matt inside of you.

Perhaps it's because I'm an aspiring fiction writer, and one of the themes I want to pursue in my work is justice and vengeance.

Hey, cool! Will you share your writing with us? I'm an aspiring fiction writer too. I'll use this story somewhere, that's clear. If you like it, feel free to use it too. I'm glad to share writing material with you.

[Matt Willard]

Originally Posted by Rose of Cairo

Hey, cool! Will you share your writing with us? I'm an aspiring fiction writer too. I'll use this story somewhere, that's clear. If you like it, feel free to use it too. I'm glad to share writing material with you.

By "aspiring", I mean that I don't really have any completed work yet :V I've written fanfiction before and do forum roleplaying, but nothing original at this moment. However, I've been steadily working toward completing a piece, and when I do, I'll share it.

[rangen]

If you are interested working with your shame and setting yourself free from it, check out Byron Katie's book "I Need Your Love: Is That True?". It has some powerful shame exercises.

Here is a brief description of some of the exercises: I Need Your Love: Is That True? by Byron Katie (at the bottom).

See What is The Work of Byron Katie? to get started with the The Work process.

[Andrew Gubb]

Dude, I'd love to take this thread as an opportunity to unload some stuff but can someone maybe give me a hug and tell me it's alright first?

I somehow think my own confessions would be worse than crushing on someone of my own sex. I've been very deep into darkness. Uh... very deep. I guess I just don't do things by half measures.

But it would be damn good to get it off my chest. And if a potential employer reads this thread... I don't want a job anyhow. So that's a plus.

[Rose of Cairo]

*hugs Andrew a lot*

All is well You're safe here. You can tell us if you feel like to. You're loved!

[Andrew Gubb]

Um... thanks so much Rose (cry)

Though I'd like to wait for another two or three people to say the same I guess I either do this or I don't so here goes. I'm currently expecting the world to end in about twenty minutes

I'll go back in time a bit and start from the beginning - let's make this my life story. That way we can have some context for what happened, and you'll see my good side too, so I feel a bit less ashamed. I don't know if that's cowardly and I should just throw out the gory details for you to judge right off the bat, but you gotta do what you gotta do to have the courage I guess.

1990

I'm born. I can't remember it exactly but I expect my first emotion would have been one of disappointment. My parents like about 99.9% of all people in the UK believe in the medical system where babies are torn out of their mother's arms, spanked, weighed, subjected to various tests and not given the one thing they need: warmth. I'm very empathic and it pains me nowadays to look at babies. They cry for a reason, you know.

1990-2001

Erin told me in a recent reading that I chose my parents for a reason. Apparently someone like me, a guy with a huge amount of light in him, needed to go right down into the darkness to gain determination to help people. Well, my parents were an excellent source of darkness. Both of them scientists, living in their heads, and utterly disconnected from their own selves. There were almost continuous arguments. I fought my sister a lot too - my parents told us it was both of our faults but I think she started it mostly; my mother doted on me and ignored her, so that was how she'd try to get what she needed. I was very cruel to her in turn, though I never hit her, though I came close once or twice.

I felt ashamed of myself for even existing and genuinely wanted to kill myself at oh, age 5. I didn't know how exactly, but I had the idea that I'd manage it by putting a kitchen knife in my heart; I remember staring at a knife in my hand and trying to build the courage to do it. My parents laughed at me when I expressed that I "hated life". They must have thought I was trying to be cute. Oh yeah, and I was ashamed of being a child. I figured all I'd need was to be an adult and I'd be taken seriously like I longed to be. I'm an adult now, and sometimes I still feel like I'm a child -- I mean, that shame hasn't magically disappeared yet.

I think I picked up on my father's feelings for me. What he shows on the surface is guaranteed to be phony but, you know, telepathy is kind of basic human functioning. However you lie, you can only lie to the logical mind. Under that the intuition is connected to what you really feel. So, he never told me -- he told me often in words that he loved me, as if that was a replacement for actually feeling it -- but I think he hated me for existing, for taking away his freedom or something. He'd be scared of putting limits on me, thinking that limits are cruel, but every so often when I got him to crack he'd unload every ounce of his hate on me with the idea that that was something called "discipline". I get the idea that strength is the same as evil. So later on I'm either incredibly arrogant or excessively self-defacing, because I'm unable to let strength just be as it is. Through my teenage years I am alternately a gangster and a metrosexual.

I'm also repeatedly told not to express my emotions. My parents' attempt to solve the problems I was facing when I cried or was angry would be to yell at me "STOP CRYING!" until I finally couldn't take the violence any more and managed to bite my tongue. Oh god.

I mean, that way they don't have to admit to themselves that there was a problem, you see? If they were to admit that, the very foundation of their lives would have to crumble.

And what I wanted most, of course, was human contact, real human contact, real love. And because of my parents, I was scared of it too, and scared eventually of the idea that it could even exist. I had a few very good friends all through my life who could see the light in me, but my own personal fear of love held me back.

Ok, so at 5 I'm going to school for the first time. My very first day, I try to escape and tear my trousers in my attempt to climb over the fence. I remember dreams of flying, my favourite dreams, but they'd always end with me losing the ability to fly by increments until I finally couldn't anymore, with such horrible frustration. That dream repeated itself a lot round this time.

I was too smart for school, and had too much spirit to be confined by their regimentation. I become famous for my sense of humour and get a little of the love I was missing by being a very successful class clown that even the teachers appreciated -- when they weren't trying to control me through fear. I'm alternately high on attention and intensely ashamed when someone pricks my inflated head and lets all the air out. I read a shitload, because school wasn't capable of getting into my head that learning was a bad thing. I think at about age 8 I read The Lord of The Rings and The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. I didn't want watered-down "children's" books. Whatever the heck that means. I'm also big on science, one of the few things I could get out of my father, and get VERY bored and arrogant in the passionless science classes I'm given. I think that if I'm smart enough someone will finally notice me.

The SATs at age 8 (different from American SATs) make me cry repeatedly. The fear that if I fail at them I'll fail at life is intense. You see, at this time I'm still under the illusion that the world is right and I am wrong. So I manage with a lot of self-flagellation effort to prove that I am a genius and go around telling everyone who will listen. I still don't feel adequate.

At 9 I'm diagnosed with Crohn's disease. That's a chronic intestine disease. The medical jargon obfusticates matters, but it's really a product of poisonous emotions and poisonous food -- the same disease everyone has. I spend the rest of my life up to the present, more or less, being tortured by doctors; about half of the time actively sick, about a fifth of the time in hospital. They gave me immunosuppressants and lied to me about their effects ("it only reduces the immune system in the gut, it can't make you sick"). At one point taking them I get infection after infection, sicker and sicker, and nearly die before I have the good sense to stop taking the drugs without telling my parents. They also put me on steriods, which fu'cked my emotions and my general wellbeing up so badly I wanted to die. These really messed up my personality while I was taking them. At one time in secondary school, about 13, I balanced my (extremely heavy) bag on the side of the rail over the staircase where people were passing and on an impulse, like this wasn't real, I tipped it over. The people underneath managed to dodge it; if they hadn't I probably would have broken someone's neck and be in Juvenile Hall or a mental institution (my angels, thankyou so much). I couldn't explain to the teacher who saw me why I did it. He didn't punish me though. I didn't realise it, but I think the teachers had some idea how much I was suffering.

2001-2004: The Perse School for Boys, Cambridge

Anyway, in secondary, my class-clowning continues, though it helped that people were on my intellectual level somewhat, this being a school for very smart people. I made one really good friend, and quite a few decent friends, and a lot of enemies too. Everyone either loves me or hates me. It's a bit of a sport to pretend not to be amused when I make a joke, and I become intensely ashamed of my bad jokes and my more shameless (or so I'd call them) escapades, like dancing to no music for no reason in front of people, but unable to stop doing it all the same. My huge spiritual energy which I couldn't even acknowledge was going out everywhere, and other kids flocked to me to feed on it like jackals.

I rebel against the school and authority at every turn, and for some reason begin feeling victimised when they attack me in return. Still, when I finally leave my school in england I'm shocked at how sad the teachers are to see me leave. Apparently they like people with spirits, despite how they continually try to destroy them.

I spend a lot of time wishing I had a girlfriend. I tended to fall in love with people in other countries for that Romeo-and-Juliet separation thing. Some of them fell in love with me in return, but I was never happy in love, because while I intensely desired love I was also intensely afraid of it and sabotaged myself whenever I came close to being satisfied in my desires.

[Andrew Gubb]

2004: Spain

My parents moved to Spain. I moved with them, knowing no Spanish.

Of course I find it difficult to make friends. All my life my social contact was fulfilled by only about 3 people who were capable of being on the same page as me and making me feel human. I tend to hate normal people, because I'm so much smarter than them (actually, I hate them because I fear the idea that love could be easy). And I hate people who try to make me conform. Some of them do, though I think I was actively seeking the company of those people in order to punish myself more.

I begin to sink into the deepest pits.

I start spending more and more time alone. I get into seduction literature to try and work out what I'm doing wrong in my efforts to get a girlfriend. This helps as well as hinders, but in the short term it only makes me go deeper and deeper into the shelter of my own head. I begin to hate people for whom love, sex and romance is easy, and occasionally try to make it difficult for them.

I also spend hours and hours on psychology. I try to psychoanalyse myself. My first introspection efforts were mostly just an escape from reality. All I achieved was to find more and more layers to my "issues", a never ending chimera hunt, and dump all the responsibility for my problems on my parents as psychoanalysis encourages you to do.

2006: King's College, Madrid

I begin thinking that my loneliness will be solved by being in company with people who know english, so I go to Madrid for an international school. You might have guessed, but it didn't help much. I spent all my time (even in class) thinking, and all my thinking psychoanalysing myself. When I was with people I was still in my head. I keep on writing manifestos on how I've "changed" and how I've finally saved myself. This is just delusion after delusion. I was only trying to prove how smart I was. But being smart turned out not to be the thing to save my life.

I blame my suffering on loneliness, and blame my loneliness on others. Two rather terrible unchallenged assumptions.

I also become very, very angry at King's, which is the worst of an evil system, and feel hopeless and victimised and robbed of my purpose and passion.

Here's one of the things I'm incredibly ashamed about. Thinking that virginity was some sort of affliction, I paid for a prostitute. A cheap one. She was old and had sagging breasts. It was fu'cking horrible. In fact, I couldn't get it up. I wonder why? I also tried to kiss her, because that was another thing I thought I "needed". She didn't let me. Owch. Owch. Owch. Fu'ck.

[Andrew Gubb]

2007: Home-school

I decide that I can study better at home. I don't quite realise, or manage to accept anyway, that studying itself is bullshi't, and that school is bullsh'it. I'm still labouring under the illusion that the world is right for regimenting and classifying humans until they become machines, and I am wrong in having passion and love for learning.

I start off my home-schooling year with determination. In a month I'm spending almost all my time at home alone, sleeping 12 hours a day and alternately attempting to drown my suffering in distractions and porn, and looking for a way out. I read a hell of a lot of Stevepavlina.com, get into anarchist literature, more psychology, and finally spirituality. I had been an arrogant skeptic, but Eckhart Tolle's book with the help of Steve's gentle challenging me to expand my horizons finally show me what I always knew: that suffering is something rather subtle and not caused by any physical lack. I had known this. I remember writing something similar as a child: "if you want to be happy, BE HAPPY. It's pretty much that simple". And yet I had decided to forget it.

By the end of the year, I'm in a terrible state. My emotions have been festering. My mental structures have been built to gargantuan heights. My anger is an incredible ticking time bomb, having built up more and more under my inability to express myself. ("DON'T BE ANGRY!!")

I go to school to do my first exam. I do a kinda crazy oral topic for Spanish (kinda interesting I thought, but probably not what the teachers wanted. Fu'ck the teachers).

Oh yes, a week or so before this I had replied to an email from a teacher with the common-sense that she should treat me as an equal. The BITC'H replied to this to my father instead, like I wasn't an adult.

If I had been telling teachers to treat me as an equal, I would have been expelled a long time ago. Now my anger is overflowing.

So she, the cowardly who're, has her husband talk to me about it when I came over for the exam instead of looking me in the eyes and saying that she didn't consider me an equal. I replied to him with nothing more than common sense, too angry and too determined to care what happened. I told myself beforehand, "if I have to sacrifice my integrity, then I will give up the exams". He didn't like common sense, and "requested" that I leave the premises. I told him I couldn't find my bag, and strung him along "looking for it" as long as I could, despite threats to call the police.

Then I stole back to spend time with a kid I had made friends with. I tried to teach him to rebel against school. I don't know if I really cared about him or if this was entirely my runaway ego at work. I don't think I was necessarily a good influence, anyway. But the guy did have some soul, which the school will attempt to torture out of him as he grows up. I hope he does ok.

I write a manifesto on what's wrong with the school system after that to give out, but I'm still too angry to be rational, and at the end of it is too full of the mental masturbation I'm so fond of. I read it recently and it's not bad. But I don't think anyone at King's would have listened. And anyhow I needed to be helping myself.

After that I have something of a nervous breakdown. Anxiety attacks where I need to sleep with my mother. Feelings of panic where anyone "suggests" something bad, whenever I think of a sickness say, that the bad thing will get stuck to me ("suggestion" is something I heard of when I read about hypnosis, and my fear latched onto that and made me scared whenever I had a bad thought. The fear would magnify the thought, repeat it, and create a cycle of fear).

I started trying to solve the meaning of life to write a book that would change the world. Though I HAD read the Power of Now... its good advice didn't help much. I began thinking continuously, even sometimes unable to sleep.

I got into magic and subjective reality. I started messing with ideas about demons and stuff, different ways of viewing reality. Some of it was quite smart. But I was only doing it by increasing my anger and fear to the point that I could break through my own resistence to being smart... ****ed up no? I started writing REAMS of half-genius, half-insane bullshit, and sending all my friends really STUPID emails (my real friends, I still have). I also sent insane egotistical emails to guys like Steve and Erin, which I hope their spirit guides inspired them not to open.

Too scared or ashamed of my sexuality to approach a woman in the normal way, I used telepathy and empathy to do some sort of passive-aggressive mental sex when sitting next to women -- two women, one on the plane and another in a lecture. I get the first one really hot by projecting sex vibes into her, though when her conscious mind breaks in she stops me going further. The second one I believe was a telepath. Unless I was totally deluding myself by this time, but I think I wasn't. We talked by telepathy and with my massive uncontrolled spiritual force, me feeling as weak as a child but with the spiritual power of a master, I smashed her defenses and ravished her... mentally. In a lecture.

Later because of some mental idea that popped into my head I masturbated over my cat, and probed her vagina, experimenting with the flow of energy between us. I was experimenting a lot with the flow of energy. That, though, is what makes me most fuc'king ashamed. Shi't... my NAME is on this post.

Later on I stood before the sea without my glasses on and saw the whales were coming up for air. So I did my magic visualisations etc that I had invented myself and focused as hard as I had ever focused in my life. Supposedly, I was trying to fix my poor eyesight with willpower, which I had heard was possible. I broke through some sort of barrier, and time slowed right down, and my vision zoomed right in and saw whale after whale break the surface. I think they had come to bask in my energy. There was enough of it; everyone was getting some but me. After that, almost fainting, I touched my sister and vampire'd some of her energy out of her.

I was completely and utterly insane by this time. I spent another day doing all sorts of magic and psi and energy and WHATEVER YOU WANT TO CALL IT, feeling completely unable to stop, totally addicted. Timothy Ferris wrote something like "I felt like I was on a runaway freight train with no brakes, throwing coal on the fire for lack of a better option". This describes me completely. Finally I used so much energy that I felt I was going to be torn out of my own body.

I crashed. After that I swore to become a monk or something, and to give up my own power. In my darkness I still believed that the choice was either be a victim, or be a tyrant. But I think my calling out for help saved me, anyway. I played the next year or so safe, unemployed and languishing at home, and slowly rose out of my pit.

A FEW MONTHS AGO

A painter and his wife visit the house. They invite me to come see some art with them. I'm like, "Well... I can't really, my timetable's pretty full, I've got a lot of languishing in my own misery to do, but... fu'ck it". I ask them what it takes to be a painter, and get invited to do an apprenticeship with him. I accept and go to France.

In France I begin feeling better and better, and the stuff I write in my journal is pretty inspired. My intuition grows, this time me not needing to resist my resistence to my own power for it to happen. I begin to awaken to my psychic abilities in a much more gentle way.

After a month, I go home. And I suddenly realise how horrible the energy there is. I make a psychic shield. The day after that, I have my psychic reading with Erin (the divine guidance in my life is obvious there).

She tells me that I have a powerful core of light, but my parents and other demons were dragging me down. That my sickness was resolveable. That I should talk to a real health expert, not these insane witch-doctors called the national health service. She also broke down the last of my skepticism in psychic stuff and reincarnation (yes, when I was using telepathy before I was at some level skeptical about it still. Resisting my resistance). I cried a lot during that phonecall. She saved my life.

The day after, I went for a long walk and cleared my chakras like she told me to. I sense the energy grasping after me as I leave the place. When I return, my intuition's increased to the point I can sense the house as a presence. It's... indescribable. Within 200 metres I start crying uncontrollably. I feel like I'm dying. I feel like Jesus walking to Golgotha.

In there, it's... torture. I tell the guest that unfortunately I couldn't stay long enough to help her with her business venture, much as I'd like to, but I recommend she aims high. Then I leave her room and go to the kitchen where I proceed to spend about an hour (I don't know) crying uncontrollably, even screaming in torment. There's so much suffering in the house, so much... hanging in the air... it's like the air is whispering, poisonous thoughts repeated again and again until they've become part of it.

Finally I pack my bag and run away.

Some months after that, I'm in Barcelona and beginning my life. I've found some of the most amazing friends, and my psychic abilities and personal development are skyrocketing.

I cry quite a lot these days.

[carenkh]

hugs {{{Andrew}}}

Wow - you do have an incredibly strong spirit. Everything you've experienced has provided what you've needed to become the best, strongest YOU you can be. Now that you know "society", and the limitations it places are an illusion, what will you do next?

About the cat - it's not surprising that you would experiment with the flow of energy on a trusting being that couldn't give its consent. It's what was done to you (unconsciously) for years! People use kids in so many ways - to control, to be victims for their own unhealed actions, to take out their own pain on. Your experiences and insights are going to help awaken others to that unhealthy way of being.

[Andrew Gubb]

Originally Posted by carenkh

hugs {{{Andrew}}}

Wow - you do have an incredibly strong spirit. Everything you've experienced has provided what you've needed to become the best, strongest YOU you can be. Now that you know "society", and the limitations it places are an illusion, what will you do next?

About the cat - it's not surprising that you would experiment with the flow of energy on a trusting being that couldn't give its consent. It's what was done to you (unconsciously) for years! People use kids in so many ways - to control, to be victims for their own unhealed actions, to take out their own pain on. Your experiences and insights are going to help awaken others to that unhealthy way of being.

Thank you so much, carenkh. I was so scared someone would be as judgemental of me as I am of myself.

As for what I'll do next... I can't see very far ahead, but I know I'm here to change things. I believe I'll be writing a website soon to express my message. For now, I'm working on my security: financial, emotional, and my health. I'm putting together some little classes of English which should keep me afloat.

[amyor]

Thank you Andrew for sharing, you've inspired me to do the same!

Myy own story has some similarities.

I tried several times to run away from school in my first two years, and kinda suceeded in that I had to attend play therapy instead which was loads more fun. The play therapist's only opinion was that my teacher was unreasonable. I can't remember much from that time other than refusing to go to school in the morning and screaming and crying a lot. I think I also didn't want to sleep by myself and would scream and cry myself to sleep but I'm not really sure what age this started although it stopped before around the age of 7/8. I remember counting cars outside my window in the early hours (I could see a road that was surprisingly busy at night). I think that at the age of 7/8 when my parents moved house and I changed schools a part of my personality was drastically altered. I think I became intensely more introverted and more reclusive and I was constantly thinking. I also emulated adults and thought I could only figure out how to 'do' life if I was old enough.

I also fought with my sister a lot but I was very violent. Technically I could say I learned this from my parents, as my dad would slap us if we were bold. My mom says that this started the day my sister was brought back from the hospital when I pinched her cheek. I have no idea why I felt such antipathy towards her but this sadly continued until the age of 13 when we moved countries and shared a room and then actually talked to each other.

When I was in the second primary school, even though I had been outgoing and more of a ringleader in my previous school, I found it hard to make friends. Most days just felt as if I was constantly doing the wrong thing and embarrassing myself. I remember a few occasions I'm particularly ashamed of. I had to do a project on dinosaurs with a girl in my class. When I went over to her house one day to finish it we argued about the cover, I then refused to complete the project and we had to sort it out with the teacher. Over the next week or month I'm not sure, I insulted her horribly. She was very, very skinny, and I said that her mother must have smoked when she was pregnant for her to be so skinny, and things to that effect. I remember hitting her with my bag at one point. I think my teacher noticed this and tried to talk to one of us but he wasn't someone who understood children so I don't this was effective.

I don't think my parents were open emotionally, and I think I preferred my grandparents because I was always able to hug and kiss them without them trying to stop me. And they were the only ones who told me they loved me. My parents have tried now and then but they say it in a very sarcastic jokey, manner as if they believe they should but are embarrased. I know they love me so I feel a bit ashamed saying this about them now.

I also found out about sex young, and recieved extremely conflicting messages, especially since I attended catholic primary schools. This led to a lot of masturbation from the age of 12, to the extent that it was pretty much my number 2 hobby, after watching tv.

At secondary school in England, my main shame was that I constanly had headlice. My mother would get so angry and frustrated but me and my sister would refuse to treat our hair, we always hated the treatments and breaking and tugging of hair for them only to come back again the next month so we would just ignore the fact we had headlice. I think we only really dealt with once and for all when I was 15. (We had had them for 5 years. We used coconut oil in case anyone's wondering) Now that I think about it, it's either slightly weird that we've never got them back again since, or we were the main infecter in our area LOL. As you can imagine though that lead to poor self-esteem and most days not even brushing my hair.

Doing my alevels was a step up and a step down, I felt like the entire school system was a complete sham but I couldn't see anyway out, i made some more friends but still struggled with low self-esteem and got very depressed and didn't attend a third of classes. I slept and slept and slept an awful lot and refused to talk to teachers or parents. Although I knew I felt like this and hated school I felt ashamed talking about it or reflecting on it because I felt like I was making it up.
That's as much as I can really articulate at this point. Thanks for letting me share.

[lifetimelearner]

Originally Posted by lifetimelearner

I don't feel any better for letting a few things out -I still feel ashamed that I did the things I did and I sometimes feel that I deserve to be fat and lonely because of what I have done in the past .

okay who posted this in my name


you made mistakes girl
big hairy deal !!!

[Rose of Cairo]

*hugs Andrew a lot again*

You're loved Andrew You're so strong, you'll become a beautiful Light for us all.

Hey, I live in Perpignan, that's not far away from Barcelona. Wanna meet?

[wolfgang]

Originally Posted by lifetimelearner

okay who posted this in my name


you made mistakes girl
big hairy deal !!!

I thought about this effect too. It's one thing to be forgiven by someone else and that doesn't really heal you. What does - is forgiving yourself.

I think Steve started up with that in the blog there.

If you feel the need to hide something, then you aren't over it (haven't forgiven yourself) because you fear people will judge you for it as you are judging yourself.

I don't think just telling someone else your hidden story is the step to personal forgiveness. Being honest about your past doesn't, by itself, produce forgiveness. Being able to tell your story without worrying about people judging you is a sign you have forgiven yourself.

[lifetimelearner]

Originally Posted by wolfgang

I thought about this effect too. It's one thing to be forgiven by someone else and that doesn't really heal you. What does - is forgiving yourself.

I think Steve started up with that in the blog there.

If you feel the need to hide something, then you aren't over it (haven't forgiven yourself) because you fear people will judge you for it as you are judging yourself.

I don't think just telling someone else your hidden story is the step to personal forgiveness. Being honest about your past doesn't, by itself, produce forgiveness. Being able to tell your story without worrying about people judging you is a sign you have forgiven yourself.

thanks

[Andrew Gubb]

Originally Posted by amyor

Thank you Andrew for sharing, you've inspired me to do the same!

Myy own story has some similarities.

I tried several times to run away from school in my first two years, and kinda suceeded in that I had to attend play therapy instead which was loads more fun. The play therapist's only opinion was that my teacher was unreasonable. I can't remember much from that time other than refusing to go to school in the morning and screaming and crying a lot. I think I also didn't want to sleep by myself and would scream and cry myself to sleep but I'm not really sure what age this started although it stopped before around the age of 7/8. I remember counting cars outside my window in the early hours (I could see a road that was surprisingly busy at night). I think that at the age of 7/8 when my parents moved house and I changed schools a part of my personality was drastically altered. I think I became intensely more introverted and more reclusive and I was constantly thinking. I also emulated adults and thought I could only figure out how to 'do' life if I was old enough.

I also fought with my sister a lot but I was very violent. Technically I could say I learned this from my parents, as my dad would slap us if we were bold. My mom says that this started the day my sister was brought back from the hospital when I pinched her cheek. I have no idea why I felt such antipathy towards her but this sadly continued until the age of 13 when we moved countries and shared a room and then actually talked to each other.

When I was in the second primary school, even though I had been outgoing and more of a ringleader in my previous school, I found it hard to make friends. Most days just felt as if I was constantly doing the wrong thing and embarrassing myself. I remember a few occasions I'm particularly ashamed of. I had to do a project on dinosaurs with a girl in my class. When I went over to her house one day to finish it we argued about the cover, I then refused to complete the project and we had to sort it out with the teacher. Over the next week or month I'm not sure, I insulted her horribly. She was very, very skinny, and I said that her mother must have smoked when she was pregnant for her to be so skinny, and things to that effect. I remember hitting her with my bag at one point. I think my teacher noticed this and tried to talk to one of us but he wasn't someone who understood children so I don't this was effective.

I don't think my parents were open emotionally, and I think I preferred my grandparents because I was always able to hug and kiss them without them trying to stop me. And they were the only ones who told me they loved me. My parents have tried now and then but they say it in a very sarcastic jokey, manner as if they believe they should but are embarrased. I know they love me so I feel a bit ashamed saying this about them now.

I also found out about sex young, and recieved extremely conflicting messages, especially since I attended catholic primary schools. This led to a lot of masturbation from the age of 12, to the extent that it was pretty much my number 2 hobby, after watching tv.

At secondary school in England, my main shame was that I constanly had headlice. My mother would get so angry and frustrated but me and my sister would refuse to treat our hair, we always hated the treatments and breaking and tugging of hair for them only to come back again the next month so we would just ignore the fact we had headlice. I think we only really dealt with once and for all when I was 15. (We had had them for 5 years. We used coconut oil in case anyone's wondering) Now that I think about it, it's either slightly weird that we've never got them back again since, or we were the main infecter in our area LOL. As you can imagine though that lead to poor self-esteem and most days not even brushing my hair.

Doing my alevels was a step up and a step down, I felt like the entire school system was a complete sham but I couldn't see anyway out, i made some more friends but still struggled with low self-esteem and got very depressed and didn't attend a third of classes. I slept and slept and slept an awful lot and refused to talk to teachers or parents. Although I knew I felt like this and hated school I felt ashamed talking about it or reflecting on it because I felt like I was making it up.
That's as much as I can really articulate at this point. Thanks for letting me share.

I'm glad I inspired you amyor and rest assured I got a lot of love for you. Writing my post I expected everyone to demonise me. Then reading your post it was like, "if I wrote this I'd hate myself, but I'm reading this and I love her". Shame is so... silly!

You are a her right?

[Andrew Gubb]

Originally Posted by Rose of Cairo

*hugs Andrew a lot again*

You're loved Andrew You're so strong, you'll become a beautiful Light for us all.

Wahhhhh *hugs back**hugs back**hugs back*

Hey, I live in Perpignan, that's not far away from Barcelona. Wanna meet?

Yes, I... really do. My friends go to Figueras (Figuères) sometimes, which is half way. I could ride with them. The next time they go is the 27th.

But a train ticket over there doesn't cost much either right?

If you come this weekend I'm meeting up with a really amazing spiritual group for meditation and paella. It'd be a veritable orgy of light and peace and wonderfulness

[Matt Willard]

The stories I've read here are nothing short of astounding. There's a lot of personal pain and it's refreshing to see people share it so willingly.

My personal story isn't all that new. Tough, at-times-verbally abusive, overly restrictive and angry father helped shape me into a socially inept, unconfident person. Was scared to make him mad. Never got anywhere because of it. I'm still feeling the effects of it. I'm 21 and living with my mom, and I hate it and I'm working hard to get out of it and make it on my own.

He died in August 2004 from liver related problems. Talk about opening the floodgates. After a tremendous bout of depression (which I think he didn't deserve one whit, but it happened), I finally decided I was sick of being a loser and here I am now, working to be the best man I can be.

I won't lie-I want to be better than him. I want to be kind, courteous, compassionate. I have his temper. That's not going to be tolerated for much longer. I'm admittedly self-centered. But I'm going to change. I want to be better and I'm going to be. I've already made progress and I'm not going to stop.

My story's not really shameful after all, I guess. More like "let's get dangerous".

[lifetimelearner]

you are not and never was a loser
just a person trying to overcome a tough deal you were dealt

knowing that you are aware of your temper is good -it means you can work on that

I know you will do well because the 1st step is acknowledging the things you need to change

I know my kids will have a tough time too
due to a mixed up alcoholic father but I will be there for them and will offer all my support and love to them

I wish you peace ,joy and love

[RRR]

I love this thread

Andrew - the cat, no big deal. One time I was incredibly close to screwing a dog. Tossing out the Vcard for a pooch would have been a wonder for my self esteem! We could have had puppies! I love puppies!

Ps. Curiosity will literally kill the cat, please don't screw housepets.

My parents were very emotionally withdrawn from me, I was neglected and treated as broken when I stopped functioning well around 3rd grade. Then the problem was ignored

I don't know why parenting seems so difficult. Almost everyone I know has really really bad parents. That is what makes us all feel so ashamed of blaming our parents, no one else openly decries the burden of bad parenting, we may not have been beaten enough to complain, ignored enough, verbally abused enough, to feel worthy of complaint. We all deserve the freedom to complain about bad parents. Parents take on a very hefty responsibility and most of them have no business raising children. They can't help it most of the time though, they were raised by crappy parents and put into a society full of people raised by bad parents. Most of the problems we witness with the majority of people are caused by the way they were raised. I find compassion is much easier once I realize this. Anyone who slights you has been raised in these conditions, probably had emotionally detached parents, a horrible school experience, the awkwardness we all share throughout our early lives, some people never recover. This is why shame is unnecessary. Everyone makes mistakes, no one is perfect, and the vast majority of us have been fighting demons since day one.

[Andrew Gubb]

Originally Posted by RRR

Ps. Curiosity will literally kill the cat, please don't screw housepets.

I am never going to live this down. My life is ruined

[Rose of Cairo]

Originally Posted by Andrew Gubb

Wahhhhh *hugs back**hugs back**hugs back*

Yes, I... really do. My friends go to Figueras (Figuères) sometimes, which is half way. I could ride with them. The next time they go is the 27th.

But a train ticket over there doesn't cost much either right?

Hey cool! Let's hug in real life. I'll be away from Perpignan till next year though Figueras is bad 'cause I have no car. But there are two or three buses a day between Perpignan and Barcelona, I don't think they're very expensive. Wanna play touristic guide and show me the Sagrada Familia? Let's talk about it over PM. This is not shameful, thus off-topic here.

If you come this weekend I'm meeting up with a really amazing spiritual group for meditation and paella. It'd be a veritable orgy of light and peace and wonderfulness

I wish you lots of fun at the orgy

[amyor]

Originally Posted by Andrew Gubb

I'm glad I inspired you amyor and rest assured I got a lot of love for you. Writing my post I expected everyone to demonise me. Then reading your post it was like, "if I wrote this I'd hate myself, but I'm reading this and I love her". Shame is so... silly!

You are a her right?

Yep I'm a her.

I really like this whole concept of sharing, I think all the things that have made us suffer or things we are ashamed of teach us about ourselves and what we really desire in life. Like Steve's post of finding your greatest sorrow -when looking for your purpose.
--
Barcelona is so lovely! I went there this year, we should start a Pavlina themed travel group.

[seeker5]

I had an affair with a young married woman not long ago, and I knew the husband. Felt very guilty and bad about it so we ended it after a very short time.

[lifetimelearner]

when my ex would come home drunk I would steal money from his wallet
and let him think he lost it

[seeker5]

I eat my burgers.

It's a habit I got into a kid and something I've always hidden from everyone since I learned early on how people would be so incredibly repulsed toward me when they'd find out about it. I've got several automatic habits and methods to hide my doing this, even while driving. A few weeks ago I slowly stopped hiding it while driving, and it's felt liberating.

My sharing it here is the first time in probably 20 years I've told anyone about it.

Edit: burgers is what is inside the nose.