testiing testing 

A Conversion of Promises Becoming

Call it osmosis. Transformation. Call it growing a new skin.

It's turning me inside out and upside down. Before, I actively sought to look at beautiful women. I yearned for the longing stares of mutual attraction. No matter religious faith nor sexual codes of conduct, women were statues of goddesses erected on pedestals in temples of idolatry. Their marble material didn't threaten. Flesh and blood women scared me to death.

Now, women are people to me, imperfect and sharing the equalities of imperfection. Now, not only women, but the whole world about me transforms into a present moment of living vitality. I see what before I didn't notice. Now, I do not seek to look, and when I do, I seek to not look lustfully. 

My lizard drive urges, almost compels my innermost self, the sex and porn addict, to objectify individuals onto the screen of my mind, to liken them as porn actresses in a sex video. I am urged to feed the demand that porn advances towards the enslavement of women in the prostitution trade.

In SPAA (Sex and Porn Addicts Anonymous), we chip against this trade. And in SPAA, a cardinal belief is that we of necessity must fight this fight as a unit. Personally speaking, if I don't go to meetings daily, I am not reminded daily of the disease, and if not, I forget as this disease is incredibly cunning and wants nothing more than for me to forget my abnormality. Phone calls to fellow members belong in this together we stand category. Depression, especially morbid, dark  episodes trigger this writer to act out with porn: a sure-fire temporary remedy not worth the slip. Last depressed episode I had...a phone call to a SPAA brother lifted my spirit, offered sympathy, encouragement and provided perspective. I didn't act out. 

The honesty and vulnerability and wisdom these brothers and sisters share during meetings cultivate nutrients of high-end grade...a fundamental assistance, a lifebuoy to a drowning person.

Meditation and crappy writing practice daily morn and evening assists. Consistent meditation muscles up the pre frontal cortex of the brain,  which thus enables better impulse control, attentiveness and considerate response. Crappy writing helps sweep away pent up emotions of fear and resentment which obscure a clear view out the window of one's mind.

A 12 Step sponsor most considerably assists. My SPAA sponsor's latest project tasked onto me spurs me on to dig deep about my definition of what it means to be a man. The flip side of the coin of the task spurs me on to dig deep about what quality of woman I would seek in a mate. Armed with this intelligence, as a single man, I intend to prospect for a committed partnership not in a mound of garbage but in a mine where diamonds wait to be discovered.  

The Breathing Lung of Hope

If ever I, myself, needed the understanding and support of those in the tribe of us, the recovering sex and porn addicts, it is now. Truly, if I can speak truth, this need largely escaped me until I joined the fellowship of SPAA. (Sex and Porn Addicts Anonymous)

It's repeated all over the earth. Addicts in 12 Step programs cannot recover alone, on their own resources, but must need have community and fellowship with those who share the particular addiction disease. So, it is.

Particularly in SPAA. This disease murders hope. My hopes of abstinence, when I entertained such hope, dashed countless times over decade upon decade.

Perhaps I can find the words to explain. In my family of origin, a shadow of shame darkened the light in the house. A lock on authentic expression curtailed capacity to learn how to feel. From my perspective, an admonition in the household acted like a curtain in a  movie theater. If the curtain could have been opened, the movie would have been like a world of entertainment. Simple fun. Going fishing. Going to the sleep-over. Going to the sock hop in the 7th grade classroom. Going to see Natalie Wood in West Side Story. But the curtain, for the most part, never opened. 

But, and I am grateful for this, when I reached puberty, I did find a manner to enjoy an endless supply of fun by bringing myself to completion, while imagining having sex with the girls I lusted for in grade school. Sexually acting out rescued my life in those early years, and I am indebted. In later years, most emphatically, I say the interest on that debt drove my subsequent life into a kind of vaguely noticed, but perpetual bankruptcy.

The brothers and sisters with whom I daily meet in our international SPAA Zoom meetings understand. My sentiment is that this understanding breathes forth the hope that gives the finger to sex and porn addiction. We share a common lung breathing hope.

Now. So, it is. Hope, one day at a time. 

Upon the Door, Fear knocked.

 

I cut the rope. I don’t see where I came from. I go into the unknown.

What do I find? Change is my fear. Being different is my fear. Being queer. Being forever ruled not by purpose but by the emotive waves of stormy emotion buffeting me. Being a quitter. My fears tie me down to the way I used to be, to my past.  My fears comfort me. However, a broken record player repeats a truth I grasp, that... “Fear knocked on the door, and faith answered.”

Faith in Jesus Christ. Faith. Blind faith? It’s not blind, my faith. And all of everything lives inside the moment of now.

My job is to cultivate, water, hoe the ground of my faith so that it works, rain or shine.

I choose to feel. (Not to say that I also choose not to feel) The dragon is that I am a coward, a sissy, a fraud who does not have sufficient masculinity to win the heart of a woman.

This is where an Evil One enters the picture. This Liar well realizes my hatred mistakenly directed at God on account of my year after year, decade after decade of being a single man, and the resentment in me about it, and how hopeless and helpless I feel about it.

Faith supplies the reason to believe that my joy, my happiness depends not on any one human being, but on my relationship with He who granted to me His salvation. 

 

A No Named Cabin Cruiser

 It's chastening to post honestly. I don't want my sexual sobriety more than anything else. I say to myself I need wiggle room, and myself agrees. 

Rome wasn't built in a day is my argument. I argue the Capital of the Roman Empire had been fearfully and painfully growing during hundreds of years. 

And picture the mental constructs of French and English mindsets, perpetually contending. 

Believe not what I say --- that's not what truly counts; what does is whether I do what I say.

Today I kept one of my words and honestly, not just in the technical sense but in a whole hearted sense.

There is something going on. A sense of an orderly retreat in the face of an unstoppable force that releases a hundred different and interesting directions.

Imagine the freedom to be able to say what it is one feels no matter what fear of giving offense nor what fear of appearing foolish or intemperate.

I am struck by the depths of the  soul-searching honesty shared amongst those of us in the SPAA Zoom meetings, that  brother and sister fellowship. Not a speck of judgement.

I am half way, forty five days today in fact, into the ninety meetings in ninety days committment, with twenty days SPAA sobriety. 

Experiences of a Hopeful Nature

If I look at porn, I lose my SPAA sobriety, and recent times past, nothing, nothing on earth wanted I more than to look at pornagraphy. It's my bread and butter.

One goal: Go to 90 SPAA meetings in 90 days; today is 61 of those 90. Here's the stats. 41 days back-to-back sober, day 42 a slip. Next 10 days sober, day 53 a slip, day 55 a slip. 

These "slips", well, put it this way. I tell myself, damn, I slipped, so...all bets are off, I'm going to milk this cow for all its worth, and the slip on a day turns into 3 or 4 slips in one day. 

I intend to continue going to SPAA meetings daily, indefinitely. I now have a sponsor, and have started working the First Step of the 12 Steps contained in the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous, adapted for sex and porn addicts.

To repeat, according to the SPAA definition of sobriety, if I watch porn, even if I don't masturbate, I slip. If I have sex outside of a committed relationship, I slip. If I masturbate to completion without looking at porn, I slip. 

According to the testimony, also, that I hear said from almost every man and woman in the SPAA fellowship, what's called "edging" leads to slipping.

Edging is akin to taking small tastes of a drug.

During the past six decades, I have been an unadulterated edger, an unhinged girl watcher, a legally permitted whore house goer, a porn looker, and a chronic masturbator. About ten years ago, I charged $20,000 on American Express for a week-end of sex worker services at Mustang Ranch in Nevada. 

So, what's happening now that's different?

I go outside on the street downtown and I'm forcing myself to not look at the pretty women, and although fairly often this not successfully, that's the goal; if that's what it takes to prevent slippages, that's the goal.

Today I went grocery shopping at the Coral Supermarket on Calle Sucre. I knew there would be plenty of foxes walking around the aisles bending over and reaching up to grab. I knew there would be no chance in hell I could avert my eyes. I'd have had to wear a blindfold! So, I took the God Higher Power suggestion to heart, and prayed believing the H would do for me what I could not do for myself, and by golly it worked! The objects of desire, in my eyes, transformed into female people, some more attractive than others but that fact not a deal breaker. 

Do you know, dearest of all readers,  do you know what these and same such experiences spawn inside the core of my being?

Hope!!!

And what is hope??

"Hope is the only good thing that disillusion respects."

Marquis de Vauvenargues

The Hope in a Power Greater than Myself

Well, I slipped again, three episodes of one time each. But I wanted the rushes. Cannot call a deliberate fall a slip, as if it was accidental! I can refine those lies to myself and say---"I'm an addict! Heh, what can you expect from an addict except to act out and to be what he or she is!?" Folks, I do not give a shit what or how I categorize my slips and relapses. I am a dyed in the wool porn addict!! 

In SPAA, the 12 Step porn recovery program, the only requirement for membership is a desire to stop acting out sexually. I do most of the time have this desire, but to be honest, not all the time.

An aside here. I have not ever, not once, felt negative judgement by other SPAA members based on the length of time of my sobriety. I have been attending and participating in SPAA meetings daily for forty-six days. I see guys and gals with two days sobriety being respected, being listened to, being genuine brothers and sisters with members who have five and seven and thirteen years sobriety.  

The sharing is dug deep soul and spirit sharing. A species of sharing separated from the species of sharing I experienced in the JK program group of men and men only. 

To me, it's interesting. When I confide, when I have said (to some in SPAA) ... that I see JK System people abstaining from acting out for one, two and three and  more years, I sense fear, blockage and close mindedness, as if the words explaining my experience were threatening. I say it (as if) I am God Almighty. People who believe the 12 Step way to recovery from porn addiction is the ONLY way to recover from porn addiction are mistaken. There is always, always more than one way to skin a cat. 

I implemented the JK System for over two and a half years, and the longest stretch of my sobriety has so far been four months. Considering the depth and weight of my addiction, four months astonishes me to this day. I abstained because of my implementations of the JK Program. From inside out, from top to bottom, from left to right day after day after day I mined my soul and worked every tool in the JK toolshed; I discovered parts and aspects never before unearthed inside the ground of my soul. I thank JK for this! His system was and is still integral to the path on which I now walk.

However, my intent now is to walk the path of the 12 Steps of SPAA. My intent now is to bond with a SPAA sponsor and work the SPAA steps with every bone, every cell, every fiber of hair on my body...just like I did with the JK System.

Sounds to me I am now at least wanting to want recovery all of the time.

Averting the Looking at the Unavoidables

Thirty-three days of no porn and masturbation sobriety  today.

But I sure wanted to act out, and not too long ago. I watched and listened to a man during a SPAA meeting (Sex and Porn Addicts Anonymous), about my age, who had just lost his sobriety,  a man who had regressed back to day one, and sadness was written on his face and in his voice. I am at risk myself, and almost literally at any time of day or night. When the urge arrives, it seduces without remorse and can leave the man or woman so seduced in a pitiful state of affairs. The question becomes how, how could I do what it is I most do not want to do?

The conclusion I've reached is because I am powerless to prevent myself from indulging in pleasures that dress in the clothing of sheep, but are in fact rapacious animals clothed in the innocent appearing make up of "benign" addiction.

Do you relate, reader of these words?

The heart of my current strategy to incarcerate my porn addiction is named the "aversion technique."

When a fantasy of sex pops up, avert the imagination. Imagine instead an eagle flying over the vast expanse of a forest.

When a picture of a beautiful woman in an ad in the cell phone appears, she clothed in a bikini, avert the eyes and don't take a second look.

When a provocatively clad woman walks by on the street, avert the eyes and murmer a prayer for her well being.

When a period of emotional turmoil ensues, avert that area of the turbulence and go to a SPAA meeting and express your feelings to people who understand your language. 

When an unwanted thought troubles the spirit, I am learning, that thought is false, and that is the reason why it troubles the spirit. True thoughts settle and nurture the spirit.

I attempt to do my part in the work of progress that I am in the making, and a large part of that part is to surrender control, to let go and let God.

The hard lesson I am learning in this day and age of my journey is that, ultimately, I cannot "depend" on people, including myself. I have always had a needy, clingy aspect to my make up. This aspect is dissolving painfully as I grow to accept that every person on this earth is sick to one degree or another. I cannot attach my longings for joy, or peace onto people because of the human condition. I must, instead, attach these longings to my Higher Power, and cultivate and nurture my relationship with this Higher Power. 

In this manner, the power to forgive which I do not have comes to me through the grace of God.

Just Cannot Live Without It

Hope. Can't live without it. Especially when, after almost three years of concerted effort to cease and desist,  the practice of looking at pornography and masturbating continues practically unabated. I am seeing men and women in the SPAA (Sex and Porn Addicts Anonymous) group with two, five, seven and thirteen years of sobriety. The view offers that vital ingredient of hope.

And the men and women who share their experiences on the road of recovery unanimously agree that one vital key to their success is to stop edging. I did not realize before participating in SPAA meetings that I have lived almost sex decades of my seventy-two years of life as an edger---my imaginings alive for the purpose of stimulating my inordinate drive to feel lust.

I spent $20,000 at the Mustang Ranch house of prostitution in one weekend. I spent my father's inheritance of $15,000 on happy ending massages in San Francisco, CA. Every beautiful woman I saw became an object upon which I fixated, in order to experience the rush of a rise of sex desire. I started at age thirteen and continued unabated, until about three years ago, when I discovered that my habituation to sex and pornography was my complete and total master, and I, its slave. But then, when I interrupted the practice, I could look men in the eye without over extending the look, and I could also quit smoking nicotine cigarettes. A fog in the mind of my thinking lifted. The cessation of the practice benefited, but the truth is that if I did it once, I would do it again. 

As of this writing, I have twenty-six days of SPAA sobriety, and my goal is to, at a minimum, to go to 90 Zoom SPAA meetings in 90 days.

The reasons why I am a pornography addict are not what matters. What matters is that I am, and that I accept that I am (a sex addict) and that I do not have the personal resources to overcome the condition. 

This is where the spiritual solution suggested in the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous enters the picture.That solution is to turn my will and my life over to a Higher Power who does have the power I lack. For my food addiction and my drug and alcohol addictions, doing just this resulted in freedom from these scourges. I lost weight, and kept it off. I stopped drinking alcohol five years ago, and have not had a drop since, regardless of inner conflict or outside tension. So, I have resolution backed by prior experience. If I work the 12 Steps of AA,  in regard to sex and porn addiction, I can be freed of this most terribly self-destructive addiction as well.  

 

More Than One Way to Skin the Cat of Porn Addiction

Today is twelve days of porn sobriety. My body is lethargic, slow, medium depressed emotionally and also sensitive, which are manifestations of withdrawal from the dopamine hits of ejaculations.

I go to the Zoom Morning Brew SPAA (Sex and Porn Addicts Anonymous) meetings daily, and listen to men and women share their stories in a language I understand. Note taking helps to reinforce particularly on target nuggets of wisdom. 

The ten-and twenty year lengths of sobriety from acting out that more than a few people in the Morning Brew meetings, that these people have accumulated, renders considerable hope to me that I myself can arrest this compulsion.

It is in the end more about quitting self-centered focus. I am totally and absolutely self-absorbed when I am acting out. I do not care about anyone or anything other than getting that relief that solves the momentary issue. And the sexual release of one pornography ejaculation leads automatically to the next, and for me, the reason is this: Not only am I an addict, I hate myself for being enslaved to the  condition. I do it again for a minute or two of "vacation" from the self-hatred, the despair and the despondency. 

My main focus now, readers, is to attend 90 SPAA meetings in 90 days.

While driving towards this end, I incorporate this incomplete list of tools into my life style.

Prayer in faith---to a Higher Power to remove urges to edge. (Edging is doing and thinking  motivated by desire to experience sexual arousal) Today on the street in Cuenca, Ecuador, I could not help but notice a beautiful young woman who was driving a motor scooter, stopped at a red light.

I immediately averted my eyes after that first look, and prayed to God to aid the person in the way that she most currently needed help.

Calling or texting a fellow porn addict in recovery---this tool grates against the guy in me that shudders to admit he needs help.

Imaginations---instead of an edge fantasy, an imagining of an eagle flying above a forest, a sunrise upon a beach or the movement of tree branches in a mild wind.

Getting distracted---cook up a meal, play darts or watch an edifying  movie.

The recurrent theme in the SPAA meeting is that edging eventually leads to acting out.

Readers, to bring this post to its conclusion, I exclaim that my whole  world is being turned upside down.

Almost all I desired for five decades of living this life on earth was to seek and to find womanly beauty and to suck on it like an infant sucking mom's nipple to the very last drop of its milk. I lived for that lingering,  longing stare of erotic suspension. Every mini-skirt, all hot pants, never mind if in a movie, a video or in a corner street bar were candy to my sugar addiction. My own power is insufficient to stop the staring, the looking and the wanting.

Other men I've worked with to solve this addiction have achieved one and two years of sex addict sobriety, so I realize that working the 12 Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous as adapted for porn addiction is not the sole and only way to recover.

That being said, there is that slang saying which rings true. "There is more than one way to skin a cat!" 

We Brothers and Sisters Understand

Three days now I have both participated in and attended SPAA meetings. Got a question for you, reader? Did you believe I would write every other Friday, like I said I would? I did. I broke my own word to myself, and so what that I did? Actons count, not words. Not to say that words should not count, but my experience is the ideal of having concord between words and deeds is an ideal often mis-stepped.

The SPAA meetings are  pumping hope into my soul, I say. Guys have one year, three years, five and ten years of porn sobriety through the working of the 12 Steps of AA, modified to fit the porn addict condition.

I am just going to keep on talking about what comes to mind, brothers and sisters.

Just as a farmer cannot grow corn without getting dirt soiled hands, perhaps none of us, especially those of us with devastingly destructive addictions, can bear the burdens of existence without some or other manner of addiction or compulsion. However, my porn addiction, I am beginning to believe can be arrested with SPAA fellowship and the working of the 12 Steps.

By placing this post on the world wide web, my hope is this sunlight of transparency so shining onto this most secretive of addicttions will help to dry it out of my life.

It contaminates my relationship with Jesus Christ. Immediately, the Accuser asserts "You are a fake Christian." I reply as Franklin Delano Roosevelt proclaimed, "The only thing to fear is fear itself!"

"Scared kid" is the name I call my part that seeks and pursues pornographic ejaculations. I grew up in a house ruled by shame and fear, and trace the roots of this addiction to that household. 

My responsability is to repair the wreckage of my car no matter who or what wrecked it.

I am going into an unknown world, folks. Pray for me, as I do for myself, to have the courage needed for the journey. 

The Reptile Gets Outsmarted

No second guessing here. I'm at the third stage of the porn addiction cycle. Last time I relapsed? Forty nine days ago. I spiked on four days of dopamine rush to the max.  Feeling despair after each hit, I repeated the acting out, to relieve the very despair I had created.

That was Stage One, and then next, Stage Two. Remorse, regret and lethargy. Lack of drive. Hopelessness. The big question resounds inside:  "How could I do what I want most of all not to do?!" Slowly, hope revives and with it return to exercise, meditation, prayer, evaluative thinking practice and the reading of uplifting books. Those ingredients that coagulate and synthesis the re-wiring of the brain biology.

However, dear reader, the lizard exists inside and it is reptilian. I can't reason with it, but I can outsmart it. Still, the beast is wanting to continue the cycle, and I am now at the Third Stage of that cycle. 

I find that sex connect passion in the eyes of beautiful women. I'm watching the snap dance videos with the young women in hot pants. I'm imagining getting that quasi- sexual massage from my woman friend who I lust after.

How in the name of God does a man restrain himself? I have sworn to not have sex with any woman with whom I am not in a committed relationship. The committment is integral to the SPAA (Sex and Porn Addicts Anonymous) definition of porn abstinence. Truth be said, seems to me anyway, the longer the interval between ejaculation, the greater the building up of that desire. 

So, today I ask myself...What am I going to do to break the cycle, to snap it apart? The answer arrives. Accept the urge. Do not resist the urge because resisting only increases the urge. 

And harness that urge to create and to transform and to heal. Tap into the sexuality of being that rests at peace in the hands of the Creator. And feel love for the self, take kind care of the self, set boundaries to protect the self against contamination of the toxic. 

I'm going to slip again. The slip will be reported here. And I will analyze the event like a scientist, in order to learn from the mistake and arrive at remedies to apply while I rewire my brain's biology. 

I committ to doing, and to not doing what is in this blog post, in order to combine my enormous sexual drive with the limitless power of the Holy Spirit. 

I offer this link about transmutation, as well. 

Also, it needs be said, until I began to implement the procedures taught by this man and his assistants, the crucial hope, the absolutely essential sense of confidence that I am a winner and can liberate myself from pornography enslavement...I just did not have it.   

You and me make One

 

The mentor asserts that only uncommon men end their porn addictions.

I believe the assertion.

God knows. The depth, the weight, the integration of the addiction into my biology, decade after decade so much so that one could truthfully say that I lived to porn and masturbate. God knows how many porn quitting programs I have tried unsuccessfully. God understands why, at times, the feeling of despairing sentiment that this enslavement to the addiction is permanently glued onto my soul.

Yet, if others have escaped…if others are escaping…if others with dependencies no less grave than  mine are shaking themselves free, I can!

I not only can, I am. The acting out that three years ago was normally two times a day is these days normally two times every three months.

The red scars and painful disfigurements on the organ have almost all been healed.

I would not and still cannot have achieved these landmarks of hope giving accomplishment without the ongoing support and brotherhood of other men enlisted with me on the same team going forward on this journey.

It is a journey into an unknown, finding a new being that was always that being meant to be by the Creator of beings.

But onto details.

The structure is organized. The 2022-year goals are established.

The milestones towards these goals are printed out. I will be able to view and assess my progress.

During each day, I work towards the achievement of these goals. The money earning and saving goal, the Spanish language speaking goal and the publication of the third book of poetry goal are these three main goals.

But no sir and no mam, your writer does not work at these first!

He work first at the morning routine, first at the exercise, first at the visualization and meditation, first at the evaluative thinking practice. He works first at the reading of books meant to aid porn addicts end what is this unhealthy coping behavior.

Do you know what then happens? The energy and the drive and the passion that spawns forth from within as a result of putting first things first also engenders the drive to accomplishment of the secondary and material goals.

Experience is all the confirmation needed.                 

 

Akin to a Napoleonic Truth

 

Been finding that the System holds water. Been finding the brothers are dead serious about navigating the currents, the ebb and flow of the river that leads to regenerated life.

That I too can fly like an eagle, that the pain of the wound feeling unendurable I can endure. I did not go mad when the manic upheaval was prompting to that escape. I gripped the marble of the lars god and held tight for the dear and sweet savor of life.

I am a porn addict. My addiction thrives in the dark, and I am done with it.

In the writing of these posts, I cast the light that exposes what needs and wants the secrecy. Without the secrecy, the addiction cannot do what it lives to do.

Dear reader, please, read no further if your sensibilities might feel offended by the explicitness that adherence to honesty requires. I will slip. I will relapse and I will report in these posts when I have slipped and when I have relapsed.

I will analyze to the best ability what contributed, where I was taking mistaken steps, what weaknesses of character were aiding and abetting. And each time I fall, I will arise stronger than before, more educated, more savvy about the red flags and mirages in the desert that are just not real.

I am 72 years old. I have been habitually masturbating to pornography for 50 years.  I got to be frank about this to you.

I am not only a sex and porn addict. I am also a food addict, a drug addict, and an alcoholic. And this addiction to pornography has by hand over fist been fifty times the rascal to arrest and throw into jail than the other three.

I intend to keep on writing in this vein twice a month until the day comes when the monster of lies has evaporated into nothing. Until, to put it the way the mentor put it…. the child just no longer wets his bed.

I found out something fairly recently. Experienced its truth. The call of that huffing and puffing titillation of craving for the dopamine release of an ejaculation was front and center, and I was wavering. But this time, I did not resist its power. I welcomed its power. I directed its energy into drive to do something else. I don’t remember what that something else was right now, but you would make a good bet to wager it was into some manner of creativity.

No kidding, this whole deal is a mystical process. The gods are saying among themselves, as the author of the book about the “Law of Life” might write; ‘We see that man. Never does he quit his fight; we see the greatness of his need. We therefore decide to fill the potholes in the path upon which he is undertaking his journey.’

It wasn’t coincidence, I claim to you all reading these words now. The money that I did not have to publish my second poetry book arrived at about the same time as when the book itself was ready for publication!! (thanks to a USA government covid payment)

 

 

 

A live dog. Worth more than a dead lion.

 

Venture with me, dear reader…on a journey into the unknown. 

I am petrified. My fear shudders. I consoled myself this afternoon with a love letter to myself. And did what I have never done. I forgave myself for the wreckage I smashed upon my life.  

Have you ever believed you are a slave? I have. I am enslaved, truth be told.

At least, from a certain perspective, I am. From the perspective of the accuser, I am. From the perspective of the liar who seeks my death, I am exactly that.  A slave. I advance to this liar plenty of evidence to support the untruth that I am a slave. Who enslaved me? I did. I enslaved myself to survive, first off by eating sweet foods compulsively.  I still am a compulsive overeater. I have been since I was five years old, and now, at 71 years, I still falter and slip and eat to escape feeling. Feelings, my friend. Those feeling I most need to feel to know how best to care for myself.

This journey into the unknown of myself, I invite you to follow its path. I invite you to participate. I seek transformation, metamorphosis defined in insect terms as the transformation from an immature form to an adult form. The Oxford Languages definition elaborates. “a change of the form or nature of a thing or person into a completely different one, by natural or supernatural means.”