Age 40 and a half part 3- tetelestai.

This will be the last part that covers the entire spectrum, and would not be complete without it. Writing all of this was like the story I read in the bible as a child of Jacob and the angel he wrestled until dawn. Considering what I have written to this point, I would believe now that the angel itself was metaphorical example of his ego, his own inner demon. These writings are my wrestle through the night wdth Vincent, and this chapter, this final chapter shall be its dawn. When I was a child amid all the chaos, there was a time, a very long time my faith was so strong in God, my hope and belief all resided in him. That child was lost in time, Over time he was destroyed by his own faith, but damaged and bruised he was placed in a room and bricked up for safe keeping. This was that child, and whenever I struggle to remember what I was all that long ago, this is the only song I ever loved then and to this day.

How? how did I go from this to what I was? How could I? I think upon all of this looking back it all started with an alignment of storms the sent me out in the abyss, with no protection, no father, no mother, and no love. Age 8 was the abandonment of my dad the entrance of stepfathers abuse, my grandfather dying who was like a father to me, and my mother cut from love due to the birth of my brother. I began searching for a new father, a new mother, protection, guidance and love. People in my life up until age 13 would come and go. Some were father’s some were mother’s some were protectors. Death failure, withdrawal, rejection, all of them would go away. That time and age defines yourself worth, it molds your value, it mold who you are.

Who I was, was not good enough for anyone, so I began to become better by deeds, by amplifying traits of myself, learning crafts and trades, absorbing wisdom wherever I would find it. But the hatred for the damage done was deep. My spirit of the God I had faith in was crushed by an occult following of vengeance destruction, and chaos. Protection came from the darkness, and carried a heavy price. The cost of my very soul. The poisoning of the child written above, the sully of my innocence. Gone forever. My father was replaced by the entity or ego I refer to as Vincent. My mother try as I could never be replaced by any woman. Try as I did, girls never want to mother their men, and then by nurture they control, and control was nothing I ever wanted to have over me

again.

Through the years it was a series of subtle and powerful let downs, Failures of how i thought, felt, reacted, and tried to assimilate into a normal society. Rage ensued and turned to vengeance of women, the world, and the embracing of what gifts I acquired or had all along. That combined with my wisdom made me a powerful ally and an insane person to be intimate with. It wasn’t just insanity though, I still had a heart of me, something inside constantly struggling to get out and repeatedly getting squashed. I was a man trying to do good deeds with the devils tools. What is good is of the light, what is evil is of the darkness. Everything that protected me, loved me, lusted me, used me, abused me over a long course of my life chewed me up and spit me out. It didn’t make me give up, but it sure made me bitter and cynical. Everything was to end, by my hand or another, it was always just a question of who would flinch first.

Very few in my life ever got inside of me, deep. It used to be their testament of life trauma that defined their worth to me. The more they survived, the more valuable I held them, the more I revealed in the hopes of acceptance, understanding, love, and healing. But with each rejection the wound would just get deep and festered further. In retrospect I believe if I had accepted these trials in my life as something meant for a truly greater and divine purpose of the light, my story would be extremely different. But with my rage, rebellion, and revenge infested soul due to the answers never being clearly revealed to me, I rebelled against my creator. In turn i rebelled against all he created, and everything in it. No control of me remember? That’s why I rebelled. That is why my wife’s wants and needs were perceived as control. That is why the anger ensued, and the abuse. I could never be able to truly love with all the bitterness, darkness and hate in my heart. I bricked up the person that could give that, long ago when nobody wanted him.

It was my refusal of belief in the opposite sex, even though my wife was what she was she still cared for me, pampered me, felt inseparable with me, and walked with me to many places nobodies dared to go with me before. We were doing our best, both of us with the knowledge of love we had at the time. I could feel something with my wife, something powerful. It was love, but the man who felt that love and the man who held the family together, supported, protected, and secured was a different man. He would fight the war, and he didn’t want love for it. He wanted to be compensated. My wife would be doing a 2 step for a long lot of years trying to figure that out, believe me I couldn’t either until all of this happened.

Her boys smashed the love I tried to give, then were transferred to Vincent like sacks of shit. This was wrong. Love for a child is not conditional, yet as a stepfather mine was. I never loved them as father should, I never wanted to father

them. I just wanted us to do right by each other, it was to never be except but for kaitlynn. She got every shred of love i had, and even though she was corrected from time to time, she was a child learning and growing. Not in defiance, just in a state of transition between wrong and right. I will never be upset at what she done, or hold anything against her. I still love her very much, and I always will. For now she is in a transition of right and wrong. Lying to me is nothing I will ever be a part of again. She was lucky her heart was never anything sullen or malicious, or she would have taken her place on the row as well. I was truly a bastard for showing them children how not to be a parent, but I have to live with that. Thankfully they do not anymore.

In retrospect I could not understand exactly what happened until now. I thought it was a miracle myself, but it was not. It was me. It was me all along. That night I was giving my .45 a blowjob and paying a wal mart bill, I would have done anything. I knew what happened but I didn’t. Vincent knew what happened. He went to war with my wife for her affections, the same war he fought against anyone else who impeded his will. I remember getting deep into Cody’s ass for stealing from his own family. All along I should have looked at my own ass. You shouldn’t murder your family either. Not for any reason, not under any circumstance. My pain that night was me, that was love. That was my heart, who i bricked up. Vincent killed my wife, I was under a lie she did not want me, I believed my own self doubt, my own bullshit. I believed my worst enemy to be my best friend. Vincent was not love, he was not protection, he was vengeance in it’s most evil fashion. He murdered my wife’s heart for me. If he could not keep it, he would destroy it. So he did. He never even let me try until it was far to late, and she was far too gone.

By the morning (as a biblical metaphor, in real life this took some time. A lot of forward and backward.) I had survived my avenging angel, just me. Through time and strength and the most unbelievable pain I had in my entire life, I had enough. I had enough of me against the world with Vincent, I had enough of being constantly assured I would never be accepted for who I was. I awoke from my sleep with guns blazing, hell bent on saving my marriage, and getting that acceptance, giving what she was begging me for years. This did not come easy, or overnight. I had to sever all ties with an amazing number of things that I used to take the focus off myself and justify all my actions, wrong or right.

With my ego finally at bay, I thought to b vanquished, but every now again he is still trying to convince me I will never be happy without him. I will not survive. So far I think I am doing ok like this. I feel pain yes, all the time. But I also smile, love, feel joy, laugh. I mean I really laugh. I laugh like a dork but I laugh. I smile now in the presence of warmth, sometimes just thinking about warmth. My road was not easy, and is far from over.

It all began with my journal, showing it to Sarah. My wife had no idea of it until months later. I told her what it was for and she suggested to just use it to get all the garbage out me, the pain, baggage I was carrying. See how I feel after. I took her advice, and I am better for it for now. The more I wrote, the better I felt. These events are not who I am, they may not even be exactly how other seen it happen, but that ok, it’s how I viewed it, it was my mind, as sick or as smart as it was, along with the emotions I felt at the time. I began it in a third person sense, such as on old man reading a story he never read. But I began to practice a kind of meditation that would put everything back into my head. The emotions especially. So when I was writing about anything, I was there. I was right there in my body going through all the thoughts, the feelings, even the smells and tastes, and the physical pain. You can actually tell how drastically my disposition changed when i felt betrayed by my wife. It was a night and day reaction.

I had never walked this far away from Vincent in so long, maybe never. With him on the high side of the see saw, I began to understand. I was holding on to this out of vengeance, his vengeance. My heart was sick of the sorrow, I forgave all of it, even him for what I allowed him to do. I should have woke up, I had not the strength at that time, or enough pain to fight my way out. I think in retrospect it was the latter, not the former. All of my fathers are dead, except for Jim, my mother husband. The man became my father years ago, I always loved him. I always respected him, and he was always nothing but there for me. That issue solved itself. It was all thanks to my mother’s faith and eventual hope to be good mother and an amazing wife that made that possible. I guess my mother was also on her own path of finding the good in herself.

  1. was still missing a mother, a mother I begged for in every woman I was with but yet hated them for it at the same time. The difference between power is control versus manipulation. Neither would ever rule over me again. Nurturing however is easily confused for the 2 former, especially by myself. I created my own paradox. I was no longer an introvert, I abused my environment for it. I couldn’t figure it out, so fuck it I’ll destroy it and maybe it can rebuild itself to suit me.

Ego, a powerful thing. But what about my mother now?

As I was seeking her for spiritual guidance and understanding daily, I started to feel better, whether I agreed or not, I could not figure out why. It was because my mother loved me unconditionally, and proved it with all i had told her. I was a horrible bastard of a rotten man, I destroyed my wife, my union, and pissed all over my vows, remember, I was not here to figure out what my wife fucked up, just what I did. I had my share. No doubt. Should a person’s actions condemn them to the abyss? I don’t think so, but then again everyone is not me, and not everyone can love like I do. Nobody can fathom the depth until they hate that deep. It’s just how it is.

I had a mother again, it was my mother. As it always should have been. I love you mom, I love everything you have done for me, and all you continue to do. All that you are and all that you could ever be. Your love for me has finally completed a void in my heart that nothing would fill since I was a child, you read all this you know i tried like hell. I can only hope my brothers give you the exact same chance i did, for hate is the disease that executes our very soul.

What i read of spiritual cleansing is it does exactly what it says. It is a removal of rejection and bitterness. The 2 biggest scars on my heart. These spirits grow, they grow and they retain the power of the previous rejections and become this giant thing that envelopes you. You have to slay it like a fucking dragon, or a Vincent, Bitterness then withers from lack of food and turns to dust. From there the body has the power to heal the mind and soul. I can tell you where it started, and what made me see this through to the end. I will type this out, because I believe it will help a heel of a lot more people than me. the book is called a more excellent way, the author is Henry Wright. My eyes still cry whenever I read this, if you are or have been afflicted, you have been warned, you will too.

Ministry model for a father’s love

How to minister healing to those who were not loved by their fathers

  1. To minister healing, you need a man who is willing to represent god the father and show his love for this person, be sensitive to the holy spirit.
  2. Introduce yourself to the person receiving ministry
  3. Greet the person using his or her name.

-1, as your Christian brother, am going to take responsibility this day for a father would not or could not say, “I love you”

-Will you forgive your father for not telling you he loved you?

– Can you come to the place where you forgive your father for the things he did or did not do? Release your father to God to deal with his issues. Release him and forgive him.

-In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, I release you from that pain. We ask the holy Spirit come and heal your broken heart, and when He does, fear that entered when your heart was broken, has to go.

-This day you will hear these words in your heart:

“I love you”

“I am glad you were born”

“I am proud of you”

“You are a good son/daughter”

Great now I can’t see, be right back…

That was it, that’s what made me see it through. That man hit something in me. the more I read the more I felt the shit just go. The more I wrote my trauma and hate out the more I said goodbye to it. My mother love reached me, Sarah’s love and nurturing rebuilt me, Justin’s love reminded me I am a good person, I was just lost for a long time. Don’t get me wrong I am not perfect or angelic by any means. I am just a guy who decided that my love was a thing to be reborn, Not my life in hate, bitterness, lack of forgiveness, and vengeance. Through my heart I have regained control of myself for the most part (it’s still a struggle against my stronger adversaries.)

As I now search for my spiritual roots and where to plant them again, many questions resurface. Does Vincent have a place anymore, I really have nothing more to fight for. My life has become so much easier. I mistake it sometimes for boredom. The ball in my heart that only sex could relieve is gone, I don’t stress near as I used to. With the conquering of my rejection I now realize, what I want does not have to want me too. Someone someday will want me whatever I am whatever I shall become. The best and the worst. Turns out that someone has been Sarah. I almost think she was placed in my life by divine destiny. Somebody was looking out for me that saw this coming long before I even fathomed it possible.

The chaotic and the arcane is something I do not practice and have not since I left the nation, and I am not sure if Christianity will accept my sexuality as I enjoy it very much. I am certainly not rushing to get further when I was with my wife, I just have priorities I need to sort and I certainly do not wish to go backward. I no longer see things as sexy weirdly enough. I see them as beautiful throughout, or sullen and broken. I no longer see myself as a fixer, more like a completion, the last piece of someone’s jigsaw puzzle, maybe hidden under a chair. There are the ones who look for me, and the ones who give up. I have no more use for the quitters. They are shallow, I will not be anymore. I will never quit again.

I have no idea what I am to become from here yet, but I know it will be better than anything I ever was, and if not for all that was done back there, I would have never even bothered to travel. I suppose I should thank everyone for that, but I’m not quite there yet. I’ll settle for a prayer in my thought and a blessing of joy and happiness to all who are still alive, and still lost. For I am still lost, I just now have a brighter light to find my way home.

tetelestai- for those wondering, I’ll save you the google/The word tetelestai was written on business documents or receipts to show that a bill had been paid in full. “It is finished” (Tetelestai) could be interpreted as “Paid in full.” The debt

has been sealed as paid! In the Bible’s Gospel of John 19:30 Jesus utter this last word on the cross, “Tetelestai” (It is Finished).

It is. It is finished. My debt has been paid in full. This is my truth, this is who I was, this is who I am, this where I will go. This is why I am absolved of my past, and will rebuild my future. Even if I go to an early death, I did this right. I did this one thing right. May you all find rage through my despair, and fight for what has been denied to you from birth. Yes, but also know, through all of this, there is still redemption for those who search their own hearts, minds, and souls. You may not go on clean and perfect, but you can go on with love, joy, and warmth.

One of my favorite movies had a quote in it that said, ” If you make a mistake and get all tangled up, you just tango on.” and so i shall. For now, for today, and tomorrow. I can live with that.

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