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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Scent of Cedar *" data-source="post: 659980" data-attributes="member: 17461">So, here is this, first.  This is Monique WittigSeboulissa, mother goddess with one breasteaten away by worms of sorrow and losssee me, now....Your severed daughterlaughing our names into echoall the world shall remember.WittigCopa, this is just one more thing to recover from.  This is your journey of recovery.  There is a book:  The Jesus Incident by Frank Herbert.  One of the main characters is a woman who is betrayed, casually and as a matter of course, by her male mentor.  He has created The Scream Room.  Everyone in the settlement must undergo the Scream Room.  The ostensible reason is to validate loyalty and to assess psyches.  She has to go, too.And after it is over, she runs the perimeter of the settlement naked.This is very dangerous.She does it to cleanse herself.Then, she determines to find the tape of herself in The Scream Room.  She has to know.  She has to know what it is he now knows for herself.  Then she will decide: death or life for herself.She learns she has not tortured the other creatures there for that purpose, though she was tortured herself.The other things, the sexual things, were nothing to her; nor should they be, to you.Or to me.I get to think whatever I want about this strange little man I am supposed to trust.  He does not get to think those things about me.  That is why he is the one who got money, and I am the one who had to pay money.  Not only were we supposed to think unusual things, we were supposed to think all of it to find the place we were hurt, and to heal.That was your job there, Copa.You did your part.  You behaved with integrity.  You risked.  You jumped ~ trusted him, against everything you knew to be true because you were paying the jerk and the money was supposed to keep it clean.What kinds of slime balls were we working with here anyway, Copa?!?Once you get on the other side of this, you will be sickened at the thought of conveying your opinion on the weather to that kind of person, let alone anything to do with your heart or your spirit, or with the sacred obligation he took on, promising to heal you, to help you.Of course they would blame it on us.That is what predators do.Abusers and predators; that is what those half-human, half-evolved people do.  Or maybe we are the ones not fully evolved.  Somebody in our situations was a real walking disaster.  I vote that it was my first therapist because no other therapist did that to me.But then, I never trusted them enough to tell them everything, either.***Betrayal is the issue, here.HIS betrayal; HIS lack of ethics and integrity and plain, human decency.After that therapist, I never did see another therapist seriously and never, ever another male therapist seriously.  But I would see a male for three times, to see what would happen.  Just in case I was the guy responsible for whatever happened with that stupid first therapist.  And one of those male therapists told me he would watch for symptoms in himself, and would send me to someone else if he found himself feeling that way.That was a hard thing to do.  To tell another male therapist the salient points about what had happened with that other therapist and risk that he would label me liar, or hysteric or whatever other labels these people like to slap around.Anyway.  I am gathering that poetry and will have it for you soon.We are all about getting better here, and we are doing it.I am happy for me to be seeing this all so differently.  Again, it has taken something like twenty years of my life, watching and trying so hard not to be sexually manipulative or just plain manipulative or whatever manipulative he was talking about that would mean he was too sly to accept the compliments of someone like that.Man, when you finally see it Copa, and you can't ever unsee it?I wonder what the larger purpose here could be.  There must be one.  I will say that first therapist made a difference for me, such a difference, in the beginning.  Until whatever happened there happened.Oh, those freaking predators and the harm they do!Okay.  Poetry coming up.  Cedar</blockquote>

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