Saturday, November 24, 2012

Stone Statues

"Your horse sign blog reminded me of the stone statues."

Doh! No wonder it was ya 'alls minds, LOL that was just so weird to suddenly have a 1/2 zillion request for it!

I realized late last night..errr early this morning on the commute that it is possible to do a re-write on it and remove the sensitive info. Which I will do and post it.

"Because P,  love your blog but know you are sharing only a part of what you are capable of writing.  Share with the world what all of you writes,  not just the nice polite part that wears underwear."

ROTFLMAO, damn the minions are on to me...

There you have it. so be it.

 * * * * warning: graffic self inflicted violence - trigger * * * *

Stone statues

I was raised void of religion. There was no super being who called the shots in my life. No set governing rules and regulations of any religious dogma to cloud my head. Even so I found a spiritual place within  myself. Like a cosmic joke between me and the universe. It was it and I was I. If the universe wanted me be, then I had to be.

So many time in my life I barked at the universe and demanded "signs".  I wanted, no needed, trail signs along my lives journey to know that there was purpose in my being.

Trail signs. I grew up learning them from Grandfather. How to track in the woods and read the trail signs. Grass tied in a knot and bent pointing to the left indicated the hunting party took a left turn here.  Three stones piled in a stack, much like a stone snowman, indicated danger ahead on the tail. etc etc etc...

I as a child looked for those sighs as I grew up. Found none and assumed the universe had abandoned me here alone.

When I was in therapy, suddenly the signs I had looked for started appearing.

I was very suicidal in my twenties. I had no fear of death, I had no need to come to terms with death, what I need to do at that time in my life was to come to grips with living.

There were many nights alone in my trailer I would call out to myself. "Game of solitaire for your life? winner takes all." All I had to do was win and I got to call the shots. Mercifully by the time the game was over I usually had come to my senses and had calmed.

That game escalated into, Radio Roulette. The rules were simple. Turn on the radio and if it was a song I didn't like and/or commercial I could kill myself or injure myself,  what ever the stakes were that night. If it was I song I liked then I had to go to bed unharmed.

EVERY time. EVERY TIME the stakes were fatal, (ie I had the means and motivation to do it) I hit that switch and was greeted with a Beatles song. It was as if the universe wanted to FIRMLY let me know: NO. It reached out for me with the only thing on the planet that I would listen to.

I didn't think the signs could get any clearer then that.

I was wrong.

I left hypnotherapy very pissed and angry and upset. I was not listening to them. They wanted me to be friends with my body and my mind. To stop warring with in and unite to face the common enemy of the pain in the past.

"Be united my ass, its me against this ugly body AND the universe, I will not befriend this waste of flesh that I reside in." I grumbled as I got in the car and slammed the door. I glared at myself in the rear view mirror. "FUCK YOU!!!" I screamed at me and revved the engine and set it in gear.

Froze. unable to remember how to drive.

Oh that ticked me off down to my socks.

I exploded in a rage. Punched my face. Not the pain/release I needed I scooted over ripping open the  glove box looking for something to injure myself with further.

The place in my head our session had tapped into was frightening and dangerously close to the core of why I was driven into therapy in the first place. All of me was rebelling and screaming and frightened.

Not finding to suitable tool, I screamed again biting my arm.

Not able to break the skin, my mind fumed and I tried to twist off chunks with my hands.

I needed blood.

I need the sweet, warm comforting redness of the blood.

I remember exiting the car to get the tire iron to crack open my head and then was no more.

I swam through the black haze of my mind to surface once again to discover my self entering the redwoods. Usually as the car enters the rich dark shadows I feel my whole being relax as I return to my own personal Eden  This time it felt tight and uncomfortable and not at all friendly.

I was driving at break neck speeds through the twisty turning road. I turned down Walker Road and disappeared into the redwoods. Walker Road isn't really a road, it more of an impression of a trail that might get you through the core of the redwoods belly. I know it well and know it dead ends at a huge beach of rocks, that hold the Smith River from getting to close to the Redwoods.

I drove my car into a sand bank and abandoned it. I  took flight and made a b-line across the stones to the waters edge. My ankles slid over the many rocks as I made the foot ball field length run. My anger and rage only barely tempered.


maybe, I fumed in my head. I stood on the banks and stared hard at the cold dark green water racing past at breakneck speeds. The Smith River is crystal clear. Cold, DEEP, fast and as inviting as a morgue.

I turned to the stone beach and began picking up rocks and heaving them into the water. One after another in a parade of deep cacophonous moist KER....plunks. These were no little skipping stones. There were two handed hernia inducing stones.

The combo of rock therapy shut down my head and the strenuous exercise combined with the safety of the redwoods and the voice of the rushing water eased the need to injure myself.

Until I realized, I could just not let go of the next rock. My death would be swift, silent and cold.

My muscles nearing exhaustion knocked me over and pressed me to the beach.



The obsertity of this thought knocked me off balance and made me snort a 1/2 laugh, my mind clawed at the safety words they had planted in my subconscious.

Healing hell...I can't even convince myself to stay alive. I stood up and shakily walked the shore line looking for the next rock. Carefully selecting it for its size and ability to pull me under.

It took a moment to get it loose and cradled in my arms. Taking a deep breath I yanked it up and stood up.

The air left me in a silent exhale.

The rook dropped from my hands and it clattered heavily as it nestled back in with its breathern at my feet.

The scene before seared me to the quick.

It was not unlike turning around and discovering a huge zombie army standing behind you.

There all up and down the rocky beach were stone statues. Piles of rocks stacked up into towers.  some as high as 6 stones.  The majority of them three stones high.  Trail signs....Three stones piled in a stack, much like a stone snowman, indicated danger ahead on the tail. 

Hundreds of them HUNDREDS of them all over the beach.

How I missed them on my flight to the waters edge is beyond me. I could not see a clear path back to my car.

All of a sudden, I felt very small. veeeeerry small. A nothingness adrift in a hostile cosmos.

I felt something in me give.

as I imploded.

each of the fragments of my shattered soul, frightened drew closer to the core of what makes me, me.

My eyes scanned the tree line looking for people, big foot, aliens, something...anything.

I was alone. naked. exposed.... vulnerable. The panic was rising within.

The air left me with a hiss. "holy shit."

I wrapped my arms around myself trying to summon up the courage to go through the rock army back to the car.

I dug my heels into the adrenaline horse and took flight through the rocks, I slammed into the side of my car and bounced off and gave the ominous beach another quick glance as I dove into the car and sped off in a dusty cloud.

I drove in silence to the ocean. My mind didn't thaw from the strange terror within until I got to the oceans edge and let it swallow my feet.

That was a sign, my gut whispered.

I took in a ragged nervous breath. "no that was not a sign. That was someone who had hours to kill and enjoyed the solitude of the rock beach to mediate and make prayer towers."

riiiiiiight, smerked my gut. What kind of sign do you need? One that says "HEY YOU, ITS ME THE UNIVERSE, GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER

I laughed in spite of myself. "yeah, in BIG letters."

The internal chatter fell silent as I walked the sandy beach looking for a stretch of pebbles to hunt for agates in.

Finding one I sprawled on my belly and began sweeping the tiny rocks. I peered in carefully looking for agates. A quarter sized piece of smooth frosted white beach glass poked up as I extracted a black agate. I picked it up and was about to flick it from my path when i caught sight of the words on it.


My gut said what I couldn't,  HOLY SHIT!!

my soul still churned up from the rock "sign" gave way like a dam breaking and I exploded into sobs.

The guardians or  who ever has always watched over me sure pulled out all the stops that day to reach for me.

I sat up a sobbing blubbery mess. "OK! now that's a SIGN!" I hollered to the sea. "THAT IS A HELL OF A SIGN!!!!!!!!!!"

I stood up and walked to the hard packed sand near the waters edge. There I kneeled in the damp sand and used the beach glass to draw a circle around me.

I stood back up and addressed the cosmos. "I am here. I are strong and I am gunna fight to stay alive. Who's with me?"

There for the first time in forever, I heard myself speak in one voice, one thought, one cry...




not me

There, on the beach, that day the battle shifted. The war was now focused outward.


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