I’ve been to paradise but I’ve never been to me.

I was born into a world of psychical, sexual, emotional and what was later to become spiritual abuse.

Although I didn’t know it then, this was a pattern that would lock me into a life of uncertainly, anxiety and a need control my environment that sucked every ounce of my strength.

At 19 years old and totally alone I had already traveled to, and lived in, three countries.  I was resilient and self sufficient and somehow had developed a blind spot to limits that life imposed. I believed nothing was impossible and approached life that way. I learned to be all things, to all people, all the time; but I was never to me.

My alcohol addiction, drug taking and country [REDACTED] naivety exposed me to the very worst and, amazingly, the best of human nature. But the good stuff was too good to be true, I just didn’t get it. And nobody got me.  I truly believed people either faked happiness or were very stupid. Life was just not that good but I still kept searching.

I craved another way to live, but my limits were set. The program was in place and that’s all there was.  I was fighting to get out and nothing else was getting in. I played at being, always acting, never living, always moving.

I had many times of being sober, which always required a reason, and I was running out. I felt I needed a reason to live so I decided to have a child. I found a donor, had my son and this heralded a full 12 years of sobriety.

During this time I had two more children, a successful business, studied, worked a night job, and bought a home. Some people admired and even envied me; but the fact was my head was always just above water with a frenzy of activity beneath the surface to keep me afloat.  For many years I hid it well. Every moment of my life was busy by design, weaving plotting, staying one step ahead of the rest, me and my family: never we as a family.

I had reached the peak of my expectations. Never for a moment did I think my entire life and my expectations of life were based on a false set of assumptions that even I didn’t comprehend, and were doomed from inception to fail. I was running out of puff and my health suffered badly.

I started to question where “they” got their information from on which to base life and its rules. How did they know it was true? Who set the standards, who changed them and who gave them the right? The deeper I looked the shallower, more unstable and unbelievable the very fabric of our society appeared to me. I had done massive but not irreversible damage to myself based on the never changing perception that I was unwholesome, for what? I began to see that I was a fraction of a whole. No better and certainly no worse, and I set out to find a formula to happiness for me.

I knew reality was going to be hard to find so I decided to approach it this way. If I felt challenged and had to defend myself about anything I re-examined it. It gave me the chance to choose again and grow. I learned that nothing real can be threatened, and nothing unreal exists.   It’s all already there in perfect balance, if we are not programmed to see otherwise. It’s all made up, all a story, mutable, plastic and changeable.

Now I spend my time undoing. I have spent thousands of hours watching, reading, listening to the work of others that have come to this spot before me and, by the grace of God, or an inner voice, higher self, or the ghost of whomever they hold dear, were provided the greatest tools to see past the programming and feel real happiness. And sometimes a spot of joy.

I am not an expert, nor am I fixed; but at least now I can sometimes smile from my heart.

LRH [Psychotherapist] (2014). I’ve been to paradise but I’ve never been to me.  Chron. Lett.  Ed7. [J(J)R & A(J)C -QCC], 27-04.

Original Journal Entry 2007.

An abuse called religion

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4 thoughts on “I’ve been to paradise but I’ve never been to me.

    • You are very sweet. I will pass your comment on to LRH, I know they will appreciate it. ❤

      I very much like this piece myself; there is an honesty about it that I thought many would resonate with.

      Perhaps it is too honest for most.

      J(J)R

  1. An amazing read, excellent balance and reality check; our cultural inheritance is cluttered with garbage. Only we can sort what goes to the dump…
    Thanks for dropping by and visiting all of my blogs. I look forward to reading more.

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