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OMNICELL
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Consumer 6
 
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Joined: Tue Nov 15, 2011 5:06 am
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Women and John Denver

Permanent Linkby OMNICELL on Sun Aug 04, 2019 11:33 pm

My time was the time of John Denver; it was a beautiful time; I would walk by the Liberty Theater; It was 50 Cents for the double monster creator feature matinée; and you got a prize from the master magician who did tricks between the movies and at the end of the movie; of course we were all 8 year old... Usually Godzilla and a mummy movies; On the outside of the theater when you walked by; Was this young kid in blue overalls with big glasses, long blond hair with a smile on his face and a long piece of wheat in his mouth; high up in the rocky mountains; It was a poster of John Denver. What a glorious time it was to be alive.
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My world is split into right now; and I hope it will get better; where I remember only the good stuff and the hopes and dreams of a little boy so in tuned with everything around him. Im listening to sunshine on my shoulders by John Denver. I thought he would live for ever when I was a kid. And you thought about vacation at Loon Lake in Spoken; You couldn't wait. Im crying or weeping as I write this; because Im remembering; My life was destroyed because I loved the little life I had created as a kid; someone else came in and took it from me; they did not know me or who I was the world I had created. They knew I was happy; and they wanted that killed; in order to kill that happiness they had to kill me; slowly; methodically.
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I loved everything. I loved my home town; it was all the world to me. I couldn't wait to experience everything a kid is suppose to experience. I had such plans.
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And when I got older these idiots tried to warp me into them; a more stupid regimented humanoid It never took; It just broke me and was saddened to be alive. I already had a life built and identity and would have wanted to continue with it. But I was scared and intimidated out of that. I was frightened into listening to people that intimidated me because I had nothing..
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The first girl I ever liked or loved; Her name was Carol; And I met her at Holden village; It was a grand place; just like a John Denver song. It was magical and perfect for the time; 1970. I loved her as an innocent 8 year old can only love. She had blond hair. Im crying as I write this. I miss it so. But Im OK. Im crying because I might be able to get it back; because Im coming back and remembering; I remembering how wonderful I felt and warm and everything was like heaven; I loved everything. And I can see myself letting go and getting my life back.... feeling it like I did when I was young. And it was all about family to me; all of it. Altho; strongly, I never really had a family; but I didnt know that. And I never really had relatives; but I didnt know that and I never really had friends; but I never really knew that.
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I have to hold on to the good things; all of them; and then go from their and complete it and keep going.
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I have to remember exactly when I feel I was being ripped away when child and start the rebuilding process of writing new stories at that moment in time; re enforce it from earlier and later; write my own stories; look at everything else has a holding pattern; the bad times or waisted neglected times or times I was exposed to bad people; all waisted time and I must get back to the right time and get back in line with myself and start growing again.
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The first thing I have to do is be nice to people as if I have hope.
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I so want to meet my wife. Im sorry about the others; I didn't mean to hurt them; I promise I didn't. My God I don't want to make them the past. its horrible. ..
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Ive got this wall; I don't need it anymore and this makes me so sad. I just want to meet my wife so badly. Im so scared she's not their. Im scared; But I realize; in the place of my wife is the past. So the past must go and I must see the present like I saw parts of my childhood; in light.
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I had so many beautiful thoughts and dreams; and I can realistically get them back. I can if I heal and Im healing.
Their were people of the past I loved with all my heart; people closer then a brother; but they are gone and not to return. And Ill have to work with God on that. Their heart was never with me altho mine was good.
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Im remembering when I would just lay back into a giant blue quilt as a boy in an old copper room; a bed day room; country room in the country with all kinds of old reelects; a day room. a cozy place. I would just lay back and hear the sprinklers outside against the grass and I could hear the wheat fields go on for ever and ever around; and dogs barking and the wind would blow and you could here the tin sound of air running through the weather loom. You could feel the summer air even tho you were inside. And I would listen to this glorious music that would make me feel so wonderful and loved. Like the whole world was created only for me. And I could wonder in the wheat fields as a little boy; the golden wheat would wave from the wind. And in the distance; you could see the old John Deer combines and the dust and smoke far off and the trucks ready to load the wheat. And I would just lay on that day bed with its high pillowed quilt and just lay and listen. And the music. I knew I was loved. the world loved me and it was showering me with its gifts of grand enchantment. I loved my life. I believed I was loved from everything.
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I had a secret wonderful life that no one knew about; and it was all hope. And I think its possible to get it back.

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I want my wife so badly. I want the ability to be present again and around the right people. I know Im blocked from expressing myself; dissociative disorder. I wonder when the universe will take me to that place where she is waiting for me.
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I remember my cousins on the ranch. I remember them from a view point before I knew to much; before the darkness....
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I miss Tina my cousin; she was killed because she was Indian. Its running so deep through me right now; Im crying so much; I cant stop..... cant stop..... I miss her so much; My cousin Tina; she was from the Nez Perce tribe in the Blue Mountains. She was my friend. It was a special time during those days. It was truly unique in American History; it was the 60's; and that generation; the young generation-hippy generation; very unusual and special; the values and music. Kids still had the traditional life and the new ways... it was mix... Everyones dad had been in WW2; all your grandfathers had been in WW1. So you had a mix of experiences going back to the beginning of the century; My Grandfather was born in 1898 and my Grandmother was born in 1901. You had this strength of the people from the 1930's and 40's; You were of the new generation; I was born around the time the President Kennedy was killed.
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It was a wonderful time to be a kid. At least for me; I appreciated it.
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The point is; Im getting things back; my memories, my love for life and all that I lived for and dreamed of; Im feeling it again. Im remembering how much I loved life; and all I had to do was put on Simon and Garfunkel songs and lay down with a straw hat in the grass and listen...
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I remember the richness of the tv specials; all family oriented back then because your father was in charge of this nation. He died for this nation in the wars to keep free speech and the right to bare arms against the government that could never be trusted.
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The question is; what now; How does one get this back; so; I have to work with God and the universe. it is experiences I want. And thats what Im shooting for; security and experiences. I have allot of work to do; re creating my life. I know what must be done to make me happy; and that can come back. I have to become present again over the pTSD and other things. And its been happening.
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The problem is; I wake up to a tea and a 12 step meeting and then I go the coffee shop. I dont talk to to many people. People are missing. Expressing myself through music and art is missing. My wife is missing; participating in my life is missing; being with the right kinds of experiences is missing. being with the right kind of people is missing. Im not sure what to do about it; accept remember where I came from and attempt to write about new episodes of my life; expended experiences of that time period into newer learning situations. better situations that expand into time; and at some point; finding those new experiences bringing me into who I am.
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I was forced into bad situations when I was so innocent; to be brought into horror and that horror gets triggered. And I have to work through that horror working on new stories; stories of things I wished and hoped would happen.
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I have to learn how to get beyond bullies; I never learned; Im still caught by them; Im caught in there tractor beam. I gut pulled up through intimidation.
ITs hard to get rid of the bullies; thats a hard one. And the other horrors. and I dont want to walk into more horrors. I want to be free of walking back into more bullies that I have to restrain myself from and more horror. I have to switch personality's when around these people so I dont end up killing someone or beating someone to death; or torturing them. So; I have my work cut out for me. Im around allot of stupid people; and their always those that should be locked against a tree and have a whip to their backs until they pass out; and thats just the beginning. And it would give me to much pleasure for such things.
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I have to learn to get away from trouble because it brings the judicial system with it; thats why the judicial system is so effective. thats why so many people are still alive when they would have been killed many years ago....
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So; I have to be around better people. And understand how that is possible.
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And I think about my wife but I have to get over this middle ground between my childhood and its pain; I have to get beyond it to have my wife and I know this. I have to face something I cant face; something about myself being a coward; never protecting myself; not knowing how and still going know where in life; and whipping myself to death about it; but it was not all me; its more like; the world hated me; it wanted me dead so I learned to hate me and want me dead. So I helped destroy me so I could survive. But I never survived; I died as they originally wanted; and then I was let go or thrown away.
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So; I have the chance to survive now and get a life. Now I have to learn how from where Im at. theirs no more homes or neighborhoods or money or boats or yacht clubs or ranches or relatives houses like when I was 7.

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As for now; Im living in an apartment with a dream to relive my life again. When I step outside; Im not stepping out to anything. Im not surrounded by the people I want to be surrounded by. I dont know how to get started but I do. I must first see everything I want in my head and go after that. and believe. And its hard; the bullies get in my way in my head. So; I have allot of work to do.
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Im not around the right people;
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Im in the recovery process; and thats not life. I have to see something better for myself and believe it exists out here somewhere in the real world. It takes a dream and me believing in it.
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Its like my wife that I have not met yet. I see the past instead of seeing her in my mind because I see the sadness; the flashbacks of sadness and I want it to stop; I want to see what I want to see; I want to believe again... Ill have to work at it. I have to see her in my mind; not the past; something; a gap is between my childhood and her. Im allowing myself to see my childhood but not her. I have to go from my childhood to her.
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I have to stay away or get away from the fools in the world.

Dissociative Disorder
CPTSD
AVPD; Social avoidance
Previous/Psychotic clinical Depression
agoraphobia
obsessive/compulsive disorder
Evolution didn't stop my death, God did .....Now what?
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