I remember getting off the bus when I was going to boot camp. It was about 4 in the morning. There was a Drill Sergeant yelling at us to get in formation and come to attention. Then I remember distinctly, he yelled out, ” For the next 8 weeks I am you Father, I am your Mother you belong to me.
That in the spiritual world of our Father. One Father, his laws are like a Mother . He supplies us with everything to nourish our spiritual life for eternity. The “Mother of living things” is the Ten Commandments this sustains your spiritual life. I know this to be true when Moses threw down the stone tablet they broke in pieces. The Women are the weaker sex but when needed, they have the strength of a male. A woman’s emotional being is fragile and when she is violated she shatters like a porcelain doll.
One Father……One Mother
Laws of Nature
male and female
One Father……..One Mother
Knowledge of Good and Evil
sons and daughters of lies
In the spiritual air between Earth and Heaven pushing down on you like gravity is Man’s lies. His Mother is the Knowledge of Good and Evil. Good an Evil have no absolute foundational structure they produce children like this.
Yesterday I chose to get involved in a conversation that was setting off my manic triggers. This was a mistake on my part. I am not capable of being a sane and functional member of society when I am out of my mind. Even more, when I am out of my mind I am extremely sensitive and need to be handled with epic kid gloves of empathy and compassion. The only people I have found who can withstand the cut of my negativity and still treat me kindly are what I refer to as “better men“. Because the truth of who I am is that I can turn ugly and start spewing raging negativity with nothing more than a perceived wrong understanding of words. I am a raging bitch when my manic trigger has been flipped. You will see what I mean soon.
The better men I speak of take my negativity and calmly turn it around to gently bring to my awareness how out of character I am acting. With this gentle turn around, it opens up the door in my mind that leads to my exit from the negative state I have found myself lost in. When I am not calmly and gently turned around from my spiral, I feel attacked and start lashing out more and more, until ultimately I have no good words to say only vitriol to spew. When I am like this I must choose carefully who I engage with. Because of my sensitivities I can easily be triggered and sent into a downward spiral of rage and negativity that ultimately results in me having an epic breakdown of chaotic energy. It is never good and it is never productive.
Yet in this world there are many who will just continue to attack back and further provoke an already unstable person. (As you will see I am one of them.) We live in a world where everyone feels the right to spew their vitriol regardless of the brutal aftermath. It is a disgusting world of internet anonymity that we live in that enables such atrocious behavior. Because the truth is people don’t act like this in person. Or if they do, they are very surely the scum of society that nobody would care to listen to anyways because they haven’t learned good social graces.
I don’t like anonymity and I don’t hide behind a screen name. Who I am bleeds through my words. So much so I feel completely comfortable showing you just how awful I can get when I feel provoked by an anonymous douchebag. It gets ugly. I get terribly ugly. Also, so not as to put all the blame on internet anonymity, I do recognize that I was fully manic and made the wrong decision to talk to a stranger I couldn’t be sure would respect me when I showed blatant disrespect in my manic state.
I have chosen to start typing this portion of the post in green. My mind has changed since I started writing this wrong and I want to show how my attitude changes when I am properly dressed down by a better man. Last night the conversation I started came to a very negative end. When I was done with the conversation was when my husband came and checked in on what I had been up to all day on the internet. To say it lightly, my husband is a better man and I am made better by the truth of who he chooses to be. When I am wrong, hegently admonishes me and makes me see the error of my ways so I might be a better person in my next chance.
And when he read over my words and the words of an anonymous truth professor on the internet all he could say was, “I’m disappointed.” It took him several long moments before he began on the correction the two of us were in need of.
He started with my words. And while I can’t remember all of them I can remember the sentiment behind his statements. He pulled up some of my worst words and pointed and said, “Everyone in the world has this in them. What will the world be if everyone did what they wanted and let all this out? I think you know and know it wouldn’t be a place either of us would like to be.”
“In the name of trying to be right and prove your point you turned all wrong.” He was so right. So very right. I attacked. I didn’t guide or help understand. I got offended and provoked and I lashed out with negativity. When negativity was returned, I used the old adage, “You get what you give” but flipped it thinking “He’s giving worse so I will give him worse.” And so the spiral began. And deeply the conversation went from anything to attacking.
“At no point did either one of you make the wise decision to shut your mouth and end an unproductive conversation. Both sides wanted to have their say. Both sides unwilling to listen to the other side. This is the epitome of what is wrong with the world and why nothing ever gets better. The individual wants others to be better, never being a better individual. The individual wants their say and for all to listen but the individual never chooses to stop and listen to any but the individual.”
He pointed out the length of my responses and rapid rate at which my negativity overtook my perspective, simply saying “You’re spiraling faster.” He then went on to point out the obvious manic ramblings of another bipolar person. He showed me all over my victim’s blog how he was losing his mind. He pointed out how similar his talking was when I was in the midst of my episodes. And my husband firmly stated, “You NEVER received a verbal lashing like this when you were at your worst. I don’t know how you would have handled such an affront.” I childishly stated, “I NEEDED something like that when I was overblown by my ego.” (attempting to validate what I needed as being a good reason to give someone a verbal lashing when they are doing wrong as perceived by my mania)
“You did not need that. You needed someone to talk you down from the ledge you had brought yourself to and were unwilling to step away from. And only kind and compassionate words ever broke through the mania. Never an attack. Never an assault on your personhood. Look how you tore this man apart. Look how you belittled his life choices. How do you know how he is going to take that? How do you know he isn’t going to hurt himself or worse someone else? You provoked an obviously unstable man to what effect? All because he has an ego? So do you. Why does your ego have the right to attack his ego? Why are you choosing to act as though you are better than an anonymous stranger on the internet who you know nothing about?
“This is the internet. This is what people do. And there are people doing worse. You speak of wanting to find enlightenment and talk about God and get deep. Look at what you were reduced to by the quality of people on the internet. You will not find what you are looking for on the internet. The enlightenment you seek is smacking you in the face and you refuse to see it. Why don’t you talk to me?”
I started yelling, I lost it. “I do try to talk to you. I ask you my questions all the time. You shut them down quickly and move onto what you talk to. You never dive into my world. You always have many words to talk and lecture me about but never can you elaborate on any thoughts I have. I’m desperate to find someone, anyone, “
He gently interrupted the beginning of my loud spiral, “Please stop yelling. I understand what you are saying that I don’t talk to you. But is this what you want when you go to the internet? Is this who you are looking to talk to? Is this the you that you are looking to set an example as?”
“No, no of course not. This is not me at all. This is nothing like how I want to talk to people. I know that I was wrong and that I shouldn’t have talked. But I want someone to talk to. I’m desperate to find someone to connect on my level with. And just because I keep coming across anonymous douchebags doesn’t mean I’m not going to stop trying.”
“You’re not going to find what you’re looking for on the internet.”
At this point I was overwhelmed. It was late. I hadn’t had a break all day and was up at 6am. I couldn’t handle anymore. I sat down and put my fists on my temple, my head down and started sobbing. There were no words for how sad I felt. I began praying and sobbing and asking God to end my life for giving me a world so dark that I had no one to talk to, not even my own husband. I begged for death because I was a spoiled little brat who had the absolute best of everything and still I needed more from people. Still I needed more depth and more connection. All I wanted to talk about was God how much I loved him and how he changed people and all I wished to discuss was a better understanding of who my Creator is. And I can’t find anyone that is willing to give more than a couple sentences at a time about someone they profess to love so much. It makes me so sad. I just want to die. And so I prayed. Sobbing. Begging for my last breath to be this moment. And then this one. And now every moment, please let me just be over. I can’t take a world that is so dark.”
And then calm came over, I was sad yet I was no longer grieving. I got up to make the dinner my husband had said to make but got lost in the computer and so didn’t start while I was grieving. I had planned to cry for no more than the time it took to heat the microwave pot pie. My husband was not helping me by starting the timer so I got up to do it myself. Upon getting up I didn’t feel the need to cry as much. Except I did. I was just able to contain it enough to get the pot pie going in the oven so I didn’t further make my husband uncomfortable with my overwhelming sadness as he rushed down to try to pass me and do what he promised he would. I was moody and made it hard for him to get around quickly because I was irritated I had to get up for him to do anything in the first place. But that was yesterday. I see how I was being a douche even in my sadness. He took the pot pie out of the box and sliced it it per the directions. I was in front of the microwave so I put it on the plate and started it.
Then I took myself down the basement to move the blankets from the washer to the dryer. As I got to the basement I found myself completely alone. I fell to my knees, splayed my arms, and sobbed to the heavens. I begged forgiveness for my horrible behavior. I prayed for understanding on why I could be so awful when all I desired was peace and happiness. I begged for help being a better person like my husband was always showing himself to be. I sobbed and I mourned and I released all the hurt that had built up in the negative interaction with someone I had once really thought was a nice guy. When I heard the timer for my pot pie, I stood and wiped my tears. Switched the laundry and headed back upstairs. I was done crying.
I ate my meal and I took my medicine and I took myself to bed. I couldn’t handle anything else.
And so I wake today, looking to come back to what I started typing the night before and see how dark my mind was when I was at my worst. I have switched all my text from yesterday to red to represent the Royally Raging Red Bitch I was in my manic state. Red is not nice and not a comforting color to speak in. It hurts me that I am speaking in red again. I thought I had worked through my rage and let go of my anger. But it seems I had only bottled it up to very pointedly direct it at only certain offenders of my inner rage that seeks expression.
So without further ado, we will get into the heart of what makes me a bitch.
Below is the start of the introduction of the email conversation I typed last night, post end of conversation, pre dress down by a better man. I was planning on posting in the Anonymous Douchebag Alert series I have.
I made a mistake. I tried to speak to someone who made their blog all about God. And I got fucked over for it. Apparently I have been condemned to death by an Old vietnam veteran who knows so much truth he can’t even take the time to explain it in any other way but the simple words he has chosen that makes no semblance of sense. He’s got a message. He’ll give you words. Then he’ll expect you to accept those words as God-given truth that was meant to enlighten your mind and “save you”. He does not bear well under the weight of questioning.
Fucking Truth Professors. Ugh. They are all an entitled bunch of bloated airbags. They have many words to speak about how they know better but then they never find the words that teach others how to be better. Hypocrites. Do as I say without knowing exactly what I say. And never ask questions.
When I think someone is all about God, I get really excited. I think I have finally found someone to get into the truth of God in a really in depth way and to truly discuss how God moves their soul and their spirit and their being toward being a better person.
Most people saying they are in touch with God want to do nothing more than tell you about the words they read as holy. Their holy words are superior and they’ll shove them down your throat even when you ask them not to. They don’t know how to speak of God apart from the words of others that have been conditioned into their mind.
Enter Old Rattlesnake. When I first found his blog I found him to be very interesting. I liked his posts. They moved my mind in interesting ways and pulled on my mania, inspiring me to words that lifted and touched me deeply. He talked about God without adhering too closely to scripture.
Then Old Rattlesnake died and some new persona took over the blog. The content changed and suddenly the man that I had connected with disappeared and in his place was a false prophet. Some anonymous douchebag who has a message and an ego and is not above telling other people they are wrong and worthy of death if they don’t follow his version of truth.
So here is the conversation that has rapidly devolved into an attack on my personhood when all I requested was an honest explanation of the person I was speaking to professing to know “truth” that he was “sent to me” to learn. Now the guy that was sent to teach me is wordfully attacking me the best he can manage. Fucking trolls. Even our fucking veterans in this country are assholes. Well of course they are, they are cold-blooded killers. But that’s another topic for another time.
Now onto the bulk of our conversation and how poorly anonymous douchebags are willing to share themselves with an honest inquirer.
Now I will put out there that I made a mistake in opening myself up to him via email. He made it known on his blog he was looking for people to send him scripture and he would interpret it for them. I thought that someone so knowledgeable to interpret scripture for other people would have many words on who he was and how he became such a bearer of truth. I did not realize Anonymous Douchebag was looking to convert people, not discuss God. That mofo wanted to tell me his truth and have me garble it up without any questions asked. He was looking for blind followers to prop up his dying ego before he takes his last breath.
Today’s Notes: There is not a drop of kindness in a single of those words. There is not an ounce of consideration for the other person I was talking about. Even from a different narrative, I was attacking him. Very coldly. Very pointedly. Very childishly. When I am speaking in Red, I am a bitch without a good thing to say. Just verbal garbage spewing to be heard. And boy I spewed it.
This is the children that come out from the christianity. She killed her baby at 17. Another at 30 and she goes to church that lies about Creation. Once you kill you are desensitized to killing again. I know from experience. You don’t give it a second thought.
This is what is wrong with America and around the world when you teach a false god who is some social justice warrior that is going to come in and feed everyone and give them all kinds of money just take from the rich and the poor alike. You call judgement down on your head because you did not take time to read the Ten Commandments. I don,t convert anyone to any religion. You want to die that is your bussinges. Then when they say is a killer. You killed yourself because you did not discipline to save your life. I have no remorse for lack of discipline.
I had no one to teach me the finer point of the words in the Bible, I taught myself and I found a common man thousand yrs ago beyond the Hebrews who saw the Father and passed the thought down the line.
The other links you should have on your computer.
Ancient Hebrew Alphabet: 2500 BC.
In case you forgot here is a picture of my Father;
Here is a picture of me;
Ron died along time ago in another world. He calls me a Son now.
No one knows where I am buried it is gone from memory
My name is not GOD, LORD, JESUS, and I sure is as Heck not from Texas.
IAM sent me to You
Old Texas Rattlesnake