September 2025
August 2025
Installment 38; In Limbo Land; Wishing upon a star
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Music; a continuation from last blog;
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I SUCK.
I cant play the Piano and Im Dumb.
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All I do is go into random dissociation and play disjointed fragments that lead nowhere. Very schizophrenic; disjointed it and thats all its ever been; mindless.
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I would love to be able to set a goal and work toward it and stay in the boundaries of sanity and reality and finish something.
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I mindlessly meander aimlessly showing the world my complete lack of no training at a musical instrument; all home spun backwoods wishful thinking.
I think I can play one scale looking at my fingers; is this OKEy!
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Im not sure why I don’t come clean about my real lack of training in music. I don’t play an instrument; I never took lessons and I never learned how to play.
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I only sat down at this thing to escape and make noise because I could not handle reality; it was the only place to escape except Porn Drugs and alcohol at times. I could not interact with anything or be part of anything ever again; I was completely dissociated from reality.
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I did learn how to fake some things; But who cares; it was never for anyone else anyway; it was just jagged mindless attempts at finding some safe space in an altered state.
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Its all very personal but I had to make it non personal if I was going to play because the pianos were always somewhere else later in life.
I only play around people who have never played before; thus; I don’t have to be very good.
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Im not sure why I have to be good at it; I guess its an ego thing. But Im a fake.
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I cant read music at the piano. I can sorta home grade create notes on a notation page.
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I mean; A goal would be to learn to play what Ive written from the page to the piano and memorize what Ive created. But Ive never been able to do that. To much pain and I run into the walls of anxiety disorder PTSD and Dissociative disorder.
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Im scared to take a chance.
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I know nothing.
I don’t know any styles or songs on the piano; nothing. I just fool around to relieve momentary anxiety.
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Im trying to go from fooling around to actually writing something and memorizing it.
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O`ne great thing that has happened; even tho I suck at real piano; I will continue until I write something; practice it and memorize it. I just know I will; Im not saying it will be fun. Im just saying. Goal setting.
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I know nothing about playing the piano or anything else; its all fake; all of it; Im just hitting keys like I did when I was little; like any kid does randomly; I was only interested in it because I had nothing else.
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Today; I know nothing but I would like to create something real; just this once. Something I wrote and practiced and then perform it. Id like to do this for mental health reasons; to say I can set a goal and finish it and work through the anxiety disorder.
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My skills on the piano are non existent. When it comes to actually playing chords with a melody; forget it. Im so sloppy; I don’t know the scales; My fingers are all over the place; I guess I could practice; Ill pray about it. Find out what God wants me to do. Im so limited and stupid and ignorant. Its incredible. None educated is a better description. No foundation; nothing.
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I have a hard time practicing anything; I have a short learning span; so short I cant learn anything; its so compulsive. I feel so useless and untrained at learning and immature. I dont know how to practice at the piano to make any sense out of anything.
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I have to learn a foundation; that means chord progressions and being fluid while playing those chord progressions.
Im such a liar;
for once; I would love to just tell the truth; I don’t know anything; I was never trained in anything..
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Coward’ess
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Im a coward; thats part of the problem; passive aggressive; remembering when I could not defend myself; got to the point of; whats the use; why try; why bother; the whole world is against me.
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I was brain washed and hardened into the level of a criminal; now I want it to change. I don’t want to find revenge or reasons for revenge against society; I want to do the work to go toward my goals.
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Ill start with ART.
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God has given me the gift of allowing.. Art is part of my life again; untouched; its as if it has come back home to me and is mine again; it was far away from me; now it is up close and personal and intimate and mine. Fare enough!
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Now; what do I do with it; The road to success with Art is catastrophica catapulting indifference's scattered broken bent promises (pause)a better life; bi ways of empty hiding chairs; sadness and spilling portage from water vessel’d slivered scratchy broken wooded spoons; arms to quild to bring that swill in that spoon to the mouth; mouth of fumbling's and broken teeth… bending neck held up by frost; black’nd Eyes darting back n forth; Fear drives a man of great pressure; Fear drives a man under ground even if imagined..
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Lots of anger here and blaming; Im 12 again; 11 again; 10 again; completely alone after and during being let go from life; thrown away. Given away; gotten rid of;
The anger stems from all those who participated in my horror; they helped out of contempt.
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Its so very strange; Ive hidden in my brain; my mind; inside my body; deep inside all my life. I may never have ever been present except when a child.
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I still take it personally when it wasnt personal; proof indicates I made huge mistakes of who I associated with; No way of knowing… Horrible horrible lesson; The key is to move on; work with God creating a new land; but Im a bit scared; I don’t want to find new people and places and things like the old ones.
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Where was I.
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Im having a problem with the journey not the Art; My God; itsnt that a change.
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So; Can I become a successful Artist; Can I? The Art part is kind of solved; I can do Art; but can I face the journey our cower out! Spots along the journey bring up great levels of sadness fear terror and real horror; unthinkable humanity; like a war or war atrocities. Same level of fear. Most will not understand what Im talking about; they don’t know what war level fear is; Ive not been in a traditional war; but I know; I know what death it and the fear surrounding it; torture death and being thrown away; ones life sacrificed by evil people; their goal is death of other and death of me. They want me tortured first.
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Fear and coward-ess/. I think the fear is about not telling someone Im afraid; or the real truth; instead; I put up a giant wall like Im invisible and then the lie continues and I add pride to it; I don’t want to take the fall. So; pride is involved in evil; my choice of direction; evil and I don’t want to be found out or fall from the ledge behind the black iron curtain. Im to scared to come out from the curtain; I would be all alone and exposed and thats not safe. But Im getting nowhere hiding behind the giant black stage curtain. Actually I am getting somewhere; Im deceptive and mischievous and purposely misdirecting. With hatred and jealously and contempt I spit on everything and everyone in front of me. Pure hatred and sadness.
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So; all of these things stand in my way; if I have success; Ill move beyond the past and the mother and father I always wanted; I just want to go home. So; God has to help me clear this up somehow. Ill pray about it; so much pain and hatred and hurt and loath’m and anger.
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The real mother and father were strangers. The mother and father I thought I had very young came from TV shows; my image of the concept of mother and father and I created great large filters within my head that ran my life.
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Lots of contempt and hatred at the level of a prejudiced hatred; prejudice against those who have while I had nothing. I was side stepped and left… I had no idea no one liked but; However, thats not true; the universe brought a few people from the other side of the neighborhood that did care about me and wonder what happened to me. ( This is truly a God given miracle); Notice in my writing how I state absolutes; no one ever like me; And it is true; THe facts indicate this; it is true. But notice How suddenly I through in Jesus; I throw in Universe; and the universe sends me to a place where I meet a person from my childhood that remembers me and actually liked me and was thinking about me; THis is pure Universe; This is why Im so successful; This is what the universe does for me and its unbelievable.
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Im starting to realize I was suppose to be around nice people; and learn how to make things happen and take care of myself and learn how to create my own goals and learn from the universe the processes to successfully go after those goals with a sense of independence where no one owes me anything.
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And all this is nice; but its not addressing my coward-ess; not yet! I don’t feel good enough about myself; so; I would like to and I would like to not fear being that newer outgoing person. It seems hard to me to step out; I don’t feel connected or have power; I feel I have no power. And maybe I can start from there if I can get a grip on the reality of this; and not dissociate; Its the right track; something like this; starting where I am; and first defining the truth of where I am so I can move around at that level of frequency.
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Pride; Not wanting to admit Im at that lower level frequency especially when I lied to everything that I was at that frequency and it was stolen from me; it was… It was stolen that I could use survival skills to independently learn how to take care of myself and live; that was pulled out from underneath me.
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Im a slothful coward; because we are talking about work and facing those things getting in the way of work; fear and fear of others and fear from the past; getting over it moving on from it!
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There’s a real cowerdess part of me that doesn’t follow through; Im not trying to hate myself or beat myself up; Kind of; I know that I went through real things and real fear and real problems; but today I want answers for my problems; I don’t want to continually stay in freeze mode and relive all of that over n over n over and suggest I did my work that I owe no one anything; I have a right; Im entitled to compensation for what ive been through and Im not budging until I get it; Well! Its going to be awhile if I think my country or its people are going to do anything for me. I can take this to myself and I can take this to God and to my recovery process looking for answers and solutions. My focus is on revenge. Im taking it out of anyone; but its still revenge; im still looking at people that could hurt me and want to take it out on them. But I don’t. I mean; I could really care less about them. I know its not there fault; Im awake enough to know that. Id be more embarrassed then anything.
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Im scared of people; intimidated because of abuse from the past and ashamed of being this way and embarrassed. However; I would still like to live my life; So; how do I do this; I kind of know what I would look like if I wasn't a coward. So; ill shoot for that with Gods help prayers.
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I dissociate so much with all of this facing trauma walls and g
Facing goals; this brings up allot of trauma; I may have it the bullseye on this one! I can feel the dead centered pain and anxiety.
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Im getting somewhere; its got walls up all over it; this anxiety; so; that is what I have to develop through; its all sexual abuse control and being manipulated against my will; like I was kept captive and physically controlled. I did not own my own rights or body or space; nothing; nor did I own myself. Others could do with me what ever they wanted. It was like being in a prison camp.
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Much more of this until I can handle the truth and be out there more; outside doing things again in the real world. However, I have the right idea; but I can see myself like an 8 year old in the back yard practicing developmental ability; but nothing further yet.
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Lyrics
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New information;
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I would like to know why I have so much anxiety when it comes to playing the piano. The universe has given me some answers but its a deep deep question.
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Answers.
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1. The Piano is an austere musical art instrument for the purpose of making art. Its not so important. Its a mechanical device that when played or mastered some what has an effect. And thats it. It doesn’t do much more for a person; its actually kind of a transparent condition.
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I was hiding behind the use of the piano; trying to make it my life; and I thought; why? Im trying to hide from everything underneath; all the anxiety of an unrealized life; and its all hard.
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So; Im starting to question what is under music; my whole undeveloped unforeseen life that has been shoved down the furnace bellows. And this steam creates great heat… a white heat.
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2. Anxiety surround relationship, car, work , house, vacation; friends, neighborhoods, schooling; recreation. Skiing; everything. Family systems and relatives; everything. Future; Money.
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The point is; a whole life sits alone with anger and hostility never touched or used most of my existence.
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I can see piano being separated from that anxiety underneath. Im learning that Piano is just Piano; nothing more; and because of that; its an empty experience if I think its going to solve anxiety problems from all that is missing from the past. So; im starting to face this and look at it.
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Maybe at some point Ill be able to write something for the piano and practice it as long as I understand that underneath this is a whole world of my life that needs to be unearthed and developed that has nothing to do with playing a piano.
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How I could have hidden in the idea of the piano is beyond me; its just a machine. I purposely hid within its realms.
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Now I know better; but what does that mean….
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I look back at relationships; I picked the wrong people; they were not safe. Its as easy as that; they did not care about me nor what happened to me or if they ever saw me again; I meant nothing to them; why did I pick them if I meant nothing to them.
Its strange when I ask that question; because with some sanity I can answer that question. Dont go out with someone that is not right for me. I mean; OKAY! I get it. As soon as I write these sentences; suddenly my personality switches and Im not present anymore to make decisions. Suddenly its all emotional and dealing with my childhood; Im a child again making decisions.
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Non of the people I grew up with were my friends; These include the ones I sought out in the neighborhood or from school that I wanted to hang out with; they didn’t want me but they never told me I meant nothing to them or they saw me as white trash; and they did. They really did; so; how could they be my friends.
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I know people right now that think they are superior to me; and they really believe it. Its actually really sickening. I have to watch it; its in the recovery process in some of the ruffer rooms. Ill go with it until I get better and have more sanity and I am getting more sanity.
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I can see underneath the piano stuff; a person groomed with nice clothing; a decent chap; I can start to see this person; me again coming back to life; but not yet. I have much work to do.
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I hate the anxiety disorder. I look for ways to ease anxiety; thats all life is; Porn, Piano, riding bikes; video games…
Not so much music and art.
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YouTube crime forensic scientist detective FBI biography; cold case files; stuff like that. Hooked on that stuff!
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Its all about anxiety relief; all life is about anxiety relief; thats all its about. Nothing more. So…. Obsessive compulsive.
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So; the main goal right now is about the piano; separating my interest in it from the past; from anxiety disorder.
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The other problem is; my mind takes of on other interests in music; creating many things of different ideas; when in reality; Im only working on piano stuff; a simple song; that is it; and my mind cant seem to accept this; So; Ill have to pray about this and keep working at things.
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Now Im bit with a new problem as I awaken a little bit from my condition; a bit stronger; I am so brutally sick; mentally Ill in my own way; a kind of strange way to what the public would understand.
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The brutal level way at which I was cut off from myself when young; the severe severing of my personality and identity left me with a severely brutalized mental condition; schizophrenic like condition; very similar; and as Ive lived with it most of my life; the end result; especially in my later 20’s and on up; its a similar kind of form of schizophrenia…
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I am so lucky to have any recovery from this condition; but recovery did start to happen and now; Ive recovered allot from that beginning state; much! I have some levels of sanity and relief; nothing could be better; I spent years with no relief and just rott’d.
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My condition is a different kind of mental condition but at brutal levels.
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Half of me is the child before I was thrown away; the other was a constant state of terror freeze mode survival mode; and something much more sinister; a kind of permanent trauma bond to life or society; not just brutal abusers. My mind was ripped away or ripped to pieces and it was done psychopathic style; this is no different then a serial killer who did this to me; and more then one abuser.
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How am I now as Ive gotten a level better; Its shocking because Im so mentally ill; separated from self; broken identities.
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Ive been in my apartment or someones for most of my life; never venturing outside into the community to connect with anyone; maybe a bike shop to get a bike worked on; but even they are kind of suspicious; Like I don’t fit in to small town middle class America; like im different. And Ive seen this happen numerous times with people .
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Life is not what I thought it would be when young; it is totally different; completely altered into another reality; I am of another reality now. I am working all the time on goals to get my original self back. Its all good for me.
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Relationships are non existent; I don’t think I can ever tolerate a person around me that might hurt me in anyway.
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Ive been going to meetings for 1/3 my life; but its for the mental illness because its the only thing I know what to do for it. I cant interact with the local community; I cant nor do I have any toleration for the general world outside. In the end it is and was the best thing to do; God knew what God was doing.
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However; these meetings are not set up for someone like me. Its similar. I did have addiction problems and dabbled with drugs and alcoholic and was on the edge of severe anti social behavior being pushed over the edge of reality into criminality/acting out. But it never went any further; I experienced what a drug addict experiences for a short time; I experienced what a alcoholic experiences for a short time; more a potential addict or alcoholic and or potential criminal for a short time period. But that was that. God shut the door on all three of those things. I ended up in the recovery rooms from the nut house. And the rest is history.
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The meetings help create a massive foundation of its own right. However, its odd; Its mainly about my dissociative condition and its odd going to these meetings for so long; Ive never been present but I have gotten a therapeutic experience from it.
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I find myself in a little apartment… No past; as if I came from nowhere. It was like I was deposited on a street corner and everyone left and I didn’t exist. And no history of my history except whats in my head.
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I never really understood when young; 10/11/12 what exactly really had happened to me and what they did to me. Who they were… and it would be permanent. No one cared about me; nothing. Im lucky to be alive but my mental condition is different. Its no just Depression or something. Ive had several beheading of my history being erased and my identity being erased without a trace. The only trace I was born or any kind of history is within my head; other then that; nothing. Everything vanished like being beheaded.
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I cant really leave my apartment; my mind is not strong enough; my nervous system goes into survival red alert mode; This does not mean I don’t go outside; it means I don’t live out there. Im dissociated from reality. Its way over my head; its like I'm a stranger everywhere I go.
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I hardly know any street names.
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The people I grew up with; later after being assaulted and destroyed; they wanted nothing to do with me. Therese a good chance they never wanted anything to do with me in the first place; and that is closer to the truth; stuck up upper middle class people ( worthless people); lets just call it what it is; Some might argue they were trying to help; fair enough; maybe the mother felt sorry for me; but Im a human being of worth; of a specific worth level; that is not to be touched by anyone ever! For someone to re create me into an inferior image of who I am is a crime; and thats exactly what they continued to push. I finally had enough and woke up and got out of there. And this happened numerous times I was heartbreaking; the kid I become friends with I had to say goodbye for good because he was never a friend of mine; I thought him closer then a brother; but thats because Im a decent person; he was not; and the lesson is; when the doors of the village are open and all is peaceful in the village swept clean; RUN! Its a trap. I was 2 young to know better.
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Ive seen many people with money look down on me. I guess I never realized it before.. those are not the right or safe people to associate with in my situation.
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Meetings;
I go to allot of meetings and play the part as if Im like everyone else; I am but Im a little different because Im more of a major trauma person and I'm permanently mentally ill from it; I have to go to these meetings because there is no other place to go.
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I don’t fit in with Stupid America; As Green Day suggests in one of their songs; Idiot America. But I have no place to go.
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Im grateful for what I have. But my life is so severed from what it was going to be; I havent given up; Im just the opposite; Im working hard with God on goals; the goals are rehabilitation goals; easy; simple; just follow directions and go very slow; and soon; hopefully with time; one goal after the other is completed and I feel more confident in the outside world.
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The problem is; I'm a Trauma person and not to many meetings or places for someone permanently disabled from trauma.
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The meetings I go to are more severe drug addict or alcoholic or general Christian recovery; I have to try to fit in… Not all of those people are suffering from anything severe enough like I am in trauma; some are but drugs were there major issue; not mine; but it was an issue once and it turned major for a short time; long enough and then suddenly everything exploded and that was that. Im some where on the edge of those things…
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Ill work with God on the next level of where I get recovery. I just don’t fit in anywhere. Not completely.
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I have to trust God.
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When one is getting better that one can see just how separated from reality and community one is.
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I never thought this is how I would turn out. Or where I would be. Its as if Ive not been anywhere in reality. My mind dissociates from the start and I'm not present at all.
I might as well be in any small town…
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Things are different; I have the ability to stick out and fight for goals that my anxiety disorder tries to block. And block it does; it wont let me get intimate with anything.
Ive mentioned this before; I'm like a women that got raped to many times and can never sleep with anyone ever again or be in a bed with anyone ever again; impossible. That's what life in general is like for me. I cannot participate in it; its separated from me.
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However, by working my goals and with the universe; miracles in these areas have been showing up; but its because of dedicated work; its horrible business; grueling screaming in pain to face walls and keep at it over n over n over because my nervous system wont let me get any closer; but I chill and try again; take it to the universe.
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Looking back at some of the people I liked; they didn’t like me or like me when I thought they liked me; or; I thought I meant something to them when I meant nothing to them; That is the best example of this situation. They were normal middle class kids that I should never have associated with. They had no training for someone in my dire situation. I mean; looking back; its like coming from 2 different cultures.
They would have never understood anything of my existence; not now! Not ever! They would not need to. They were never looking for someone like me. I was way of there radar. They don’t care if they ever see me again or ever met me; and those are not the kind of people a decent person like myself wants to associate with.
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Ill have to work with God on all this stuff.
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