When dogs teach us life

Among many miracles that our four-legged pets have been trying to teach us as humans, one of the most touching is their role in therapy. Why don’t we think it further? You know what they are capable of, what unconditional love they have for us. We have said millions of times that they do not like the body, not the shape, so why do we always care about these things the most? Your little pet or big sees you as the life you are. Money, power and material are so superfluous for them, we are just our innermost existence. That’s why they look at us with such love because they know it. It’s natural for them. Of course, it’s not because you feed them. That is much more than that.

When I first took that little puppy into my lap, that six-week-old little dog, we felt our inexplicable bond. I would have explained in vain that I would take him only for a gift, because he had become mine. The first few weeks made our friendship even tighter as I fought for his life. Nothing was left in him, he was losing weight, had little appetite, but I did not leave him. This cute and desperate furball spent the nights mostly only on my lap for weeks. We went to different vets and finally found the doctor, who immediately knew that, despite his appearance, there wasn’t any serious problem, the others had been looking for the solution in wrong places so far. I spent a little fortune on, but there was a spectacular improvement and we really got close to each other. Many times, I felt like he might even be reading my thoughts. Great walks, cuddles, endless cheerfulness and playing. I saved him.

When I met Mr. Hodgkin, he already knew I was on the wrong way. I didn’t pay attention to it, even though he wanted to say it couldn’t be that good. When I set out for our lush nights, he often stood in front of me at the gate and put his paw on my knees. It was like telling me not to go. These were not the usual signs of ‘don’t leave me alone’ like other dogs do, and even if I made myself aware that he wanted to send a message, I simply didn’t care. Of course, he didn’t give up even when he had to take care of me during chemotherapy. He could wait for me so quietly, so understandingly, and he didn’t blame me for not listening to him.

Later on love brought me healing, I could breathe again, I could start again. But it came at a price, and I only noticed it years later. My dog, who could even hug my neck, slowly and completely got sick over a long period of months. We went to the doctors, such an infection, such an antibiotic, let’s start from the beginning, it would not be good, just a temporary improvement, a big setback. His immune system was weakened, and somehow, he was not able to lift himself up to a healthier level. His gaze turned duller, nothing pleased him anymore. That vivacious little clown was no longer running, was not jumping, and often didn’t even come out when I arrived. Until one day he couldn’t even get up.

I knew we had to go back to the doctor, who unfortunately knew him so well. I could hardly put him in the car, but he came because he trusted me. A little spark of mischief could be seen in his eyes. In the yard of the clinic, he was marking around the bushes. I haven’t seen him doing this so far. He humbly let me lay him on the table and examine by the vet. The diagnosis came quickly. He was very feverish and his whole body was full of lymphatic tumors. Well, my darling did not gain a little weight from resting a bit more, but he definitely took my cancer away from me. I was stunned in the middle of the surgery. There were no options left. It simply could not have been decided otherwise, I had to let him go, saving him from any further suffering. He already knew this, accepted it, and I could see in his eyes that he wasn’t afraid at all. He looked into my eyes as I was petting his little head. Even now, I can feel the touch of his soft ears in my palm. He fell asleep in my arms in the twinkling of an eye, while I was drowned in pain. He saved me.

And I don’t know when this miracle will hurt any less, but I am grateful to him for coming, being my dog ​​and teaching me so much about life and love.

Phantom of my night

There’s something in the wind, something in the dark
Touching my aching soul strange feelings arrive
All of them are violent, all of them are bright
Pushing me towards an eternal fight

Dawn never comes on the new horizon
From million miles a lonely star shines on
Over silent peaks and forgotten hollows
The uninvited hauntingly follows

Not worth running away, cos I can’t hide
All the scattered answers are deep inside
Falls closer to me, but I can’t recognize
I stay surrounded by the healing light

The power of beauty is so surreal
Its presence is secret and I can’t deal
I’m too lost in; I’m punished to be blind
There’s no escape, but I really don’t mind
 
With a gentle breeze my fears arise
But it’s so precious,  calming and wise
Shame is melting, I’m captivated
All is silent, no words are wasted
 
While it is teasing all my senses
There’s no chance to build up fences
Enchanting tastes, smells, mystic sounds
Unknown emotions swirl and bound
 
Everything is weird and strange
Guides through an entire change
It is not me anymore
Hurts so much but I adore
 
Much desire and defence
In another existence
In another state of mind
With the phantom of my night

Struggling through chemotherapy

I can’t tell you how others are going through the treatments. I can’t even say at all how you should do it. The only thing I can do to help, on a strictly non-medical basis, is to tell you what it was like to be stuck in a life burning in flames of poison and pain. Maybe I bring a smile to your face when you need it most.

Before
By that I mean the day you are going to get the brand-new treatment, because the rest is rather the afterparty phase. For me, the forerunner, the breeze of the next treatment was like a hurricane in my face, trying to make me aware – oh yeah – you’re going to Room 101, where you will be tortured by personalized and selected methods. It wasn’t a heart-warming feeling to think about the desire to get free from the room where the walls were decorated by expressionless faces of my suffering companions. When you know well before the action that you are going to hurt, that you will be afraid of hurt, and let’s not say, God damn, you’re going to vomit back the whole set of infusion, well, this is something an average person wouldn’t pay for. It is impossible to prepare for it because you can never be sure what will happen next time. I’d say it’s just like gambling, but here you really lose all the dazzling prizes, you can only choose from the many bad ones. But it doesn’t matter, you can do it.

Morning
I always woke up on time because if I didn’t hurry there was no bed and I didn’t want to sit in a chair for six or eight hours. Of course, later, the floor next to the toilet also seemed to be perfect, but at the beginning I went there with such luxury demands. I took an anti-emetic, which never worked, but if it has to be taken, then it must be taken. Light breakfast, maybe at first, then getting lighter with time, and hop, finally I couldn’t eat anything at all. This is not an advice. You shall eat! Okay? It just wasn’t for me. I should have had a drink, but I couldn’t. Start. At first, I was very cool, went by bus. Then the car was left, of course the driver wasn’t me. Conversation barely, I found it hard to hide that I am fucked by fear and we don’t like to say out loud something like that.

Arrival and there
A quick blood test to see if I’m sexy enough from the inside for another treatment. Yeah, okay, lay down, let’s start. If we found the vein, we were happy. They are usually damage, everywhere. I loved the precious souls of my hematology assistants who were all day preparing the patients to get the infusion and they were highly professionals. One of them could pierce so good that her name was mentioned in our prayers. When my body did not take the cannula at all, the small winged needles remained. Somehow it had to be injected. The intravenous anti-emetic came. I wouldn’t say it ever helped. Already the first drops of chemotherapy were biting my arm, all the way up to my shoulders and further. Many times, I was thinking about that I could see my vasculature in front of me because I felt everything. Strange pain, unlike anything else.

I have no good ideas for the boring, hours-long lying down. You have to experience what will work for you. For me, hm, almost nothing. I had company, I had only two treatments alone, luckily, he accepted the vision of half-living myself. But you shouldn’t expect too much. Once my brother and his girlfriend accompanied me. I was hoping that they would be entertaining, distract me, and then it might not hurt so much. The rack came, carrying the two buckets of muck to fill me up. Needle inserted, then blown vein. My brother was pale, twisted his eyes, his head. White face, I sent him out. He thanked. Needle again, then blown vein again. Girlfriend was tough, she could do it. Needle again, the third vein couldn’t stand that neither. I jumped out of bed, the needle flied, and my girlfriend fell into my bed. She fainted, I laughed so much. What an escort! I sent them home. They came for me when I was done. It’s worth counting on. If you carry someone who loves you, they may not be able to watch you suffering. And yet, to be alone is not good. It is very difficult to stay positive alone, especially since, in my experience, there is no big “happy little church of positive people” during the treatments.

During the first chemo, I was thinking about reading a good book if I had that much time while that sea of disgust was dropping. Yeah, for the second time I laughed at myself for that. I didn’t read. Once I tried to watch a movie to see if it would work. Yeah, no. Nothing distracted my attention. After a while, it was no longer worth thinking about it, because I was vomiting endlessly. It would have been nice to drink water or anything to get that bad drug taste out of my mouth, but I couldn’t, just a little tea at the end when we were saying goodbye, but nothing before. I would have liked to crunch something during the many hours just to have at least something to throw up, but oh, that was a total foolishness too. So, believe in yourself, it’s not easy to be more awkward than me!

And the moment I first, you know, left myself during the treatment is unforgettable. Probably there cannot be enough years or even lives to vanish these memories. I stood up and I was immediately ordered to sit down because it wasn’t allowed to pull your little rack while trying to beetle from the ward, no way. There’s the kidney bowl. I definitely felt that I did not attend that certain princess training course what taught me that. So, I was forced to outline my concern that even the thought of it was completely ridiculous that I would strike home. I assured them that, that my vomit is like a truck approaching one hundred and twenty miles an hour and when it could reach that tiny bowl, six cleaners would disinfect the floor, the wall, and the next bed with the patient lying on it. They believed in me, and so could take my final shelter, the toilet, with dignity.

pic edited by canva

Chemotherapy- introductory thoughts for survival

If destiny sentenced you to fight against your cancer, then you should be well-prepared in advance so that you do not act like me or many others do. When my first chemo was prescribed for me, I thought I would get answers to all my countless questions from my doctor, because, admit it, movies are here or there, you have no idea what’s really going to happen to you. This is not a matter of secrecy, it is about everyone experiencing it differently, but it will not be different only from one person to another, even from one treatment to another. One gets better, the other gets very bad. So, I summed here what experiences I gathered during my trials.

Eat smart!


Cancer is in a very good relationship with carbohydrates, and yes, you also need them to survive, but you’d better be comfortable with the idea that now is the time to reform your whole lifestyle. Forget the sugar, you don’t need it. When you see, or have already seen, the tumor cells on the PET CT are illuminated, it is caused by a contrast substance that is sugar and is adored by your cancer. So, if you don’t love your cancer, don’t give it to him. In this short paragraph, it is impossible to incorporate the knowledge you need, but it is important that you pay attention to yourself. Leave the processed foods and just about anything you don’t know about the ingredients. Of course, in your place, I would also consider whether I want to eat meat yet, because chemo will keep your uric acid in the sky, don’t add further projects to your body.

Drink water!


Forget sugary soft drinks and purify yourself with water, you know, a big percentage of your body is from that. When you realize how much poison is being irrigated into you, make it your goal to remove it from yourself, as much as you can. If anyone had said that to me at that time, I’d certainly bet, but they didn’t say anything. And I didn’t even want to think about it because I kept vomiting. I didn’t work on the input side at all. Keep the coke only for limescale in the bath and pour in the vitalizing water before, during and after the chemo. You will not be thirsty because they are saturated with a lot of medication infusions, though in a rather sick way. Don’t worry about it, be tough and drink water for yourself.

Water will not be your best buddy only because it hydrates you, but also because it cools. After the treatments, there may be a rise in heat and fever and basically this will cause your body to become heated. You must not continue to destroy it. The heat can come from your surroundings: no sauna, no thermal bathes, and set the tap at home only to slightly warm. Also avoid foods and spices that produce heat, such as ginger, cinnamon or chili.

Do sports!


I always had to do something between treatments. Was it advised? Oh no. I went to the gym. I was ridiculous, yes, but I didn’t care. I took the treadmill and struggled with the miles. Sometimes I ran outside, but there the ego didn’t let me go. I was slow as a rheumatic snail, though I should have seemed like a 22-year-old, vigorous woman. If not jogging, then I went swimming. Of course, there was a risk of infection, but I decided it wouldn’t be a problem. It worked. The pool water was disinfected not with chlorine but with active oxygen, which I was delighted with. I counted the lengths and got into a kind of meditative state. It was just the pleasantly cold water and me, and my thoughts were resting outside the dressing room. I really had time to put my problems on after relaxation.

The hair problem


Specifically, I did not completely lose all my hair, but it strongly and spectacularly thinned out. I cut it off and painted it. When, if not now? I had never painted before, but it didn’t matter then. After every wash, the tub was full of my shimmering sea of ​​hair. Was I worried? No. I was going to get a very rough wig for myself. You must let go of this too. It’s just hair, and you’re fighting for your life. Then, when you are better, you will get curly curls that even just a pro hairdresser can do. Be careful to avoid chemicals, so you should free your life from chemicals as much as you can. Wash your hair with a smooth herbal soap and you can even bathe with it. If you don’t have a shower gel, no shampoo, you’ll see you don’t need a lotion, but if you buy one, look for eco-green departments. Not depends on wealth, you can live a healthy life cheaply too. No washing powder, use washing soda for example. Think about it, get plenty of information, read them through carefully, and start tidying up nicely in this area. It’s good for your hair and your scalp to use herbal wraps, but be careful not to overheat your head, so reduce the use of hairdryers, hair straightener.

Pain Relief


I can’t tell you how much it will hurt you, since my first treatment I had a lot of pain in my arm and the pain was intense for a whole year after the last one. If I remember it a bit, it immediately comes to mind. I got everything, got used to it, I stopped. The next one came, it didn’t help, nothing helped, so if I can save you a ride, you won’t start experimenting with painkillers. I also got the rough stuff my doctor gave me from her secret kit, it didn’t work, even though I took it four times as much as recommended. I became stupid, dizzy, and the burning pain was there with me. Only the ancient method, the God-blessed hemp, recognized by more advanced societies, brought relief. Pharmaceutical companies also recognize it, but what if you were to produce some green for yourself, they would rather synthesize its active ingredients into medicine. Just to buy them, you know. Not only did it work by eliminating what the painkillers were unable to do, but it also brought appetite and cheer. I needed them so much. Yeah, and I didn’t become an addict.

Postscript


As much as I vomited, I would not wish anyone. That way I got to the point where I was already sipping ice cream between two vomits. It was cold and sweet when it came outside. I was disgusted by the smells, the sunlight disturbed me terribly, it almost hurt. You can’t help it. My skin was drying all the time, my muscles were tearing down, and I was avoiding sex in the big arc. The system did not recover long after the treatments.
I could tell tremendously lot about these things, and you know what, I will. The only thing I followed was to pay attention to what was going well. Do not exaggerate anything or be irresponsible. And that’s just a part of you can do for yourself from the outside.

pic from pixabay.com

Cheap therapy

When you finally have arrived to that point where you really feel that you won’t be able to handle your own body anymore, then you’re standing at that certain station from where your journey could be continued truly just alone. No one can help you, it doesn’t matter what languages you speak. Even though you are trying to find guidance, you are feverishly looking for which platform and when your train will depart, because you will not find it unless you finally look inside yourself. And for this you need power. You thought it was difficult so far? Pretty stupid idea! You’re going to be really alone now, and you’re going to be the most exposed to finally facing yourself. Until this point doctors have been able to accompany you so as your friends, your loved ones, but they can’t continue the healing journey with you. This is for you to go through! Everything you’ve been through, every vibration, fragrance, memory is going to hit your head all at once, it will upset you, tear you apart, and you have to let it do its task. It’s all yourself, and if you want to finally relieve the pain that your body has, you have to dig deep down for them. Are you ready?

Why don’t you want?

You don’t want it because you don’t have a problem. It’s just a new kind of fashionable shit about making your body sick by your soul. Because what about viruses and bacteria are they born by my soul? Can a child be infected with vomiting-diarrhoea only if he or she is mentally ill? Right? Have you heard these well-founded questions? Of course. Me too. And when you stand here, when you’re reading this thread about your healing, you know how small you are in this universal being. If you are willing to accept that in a huge, unimaginably large totality your current life is just a tiny little drop, then you will be much closer to your goals. You can only live this day today, in this reality, in this life. Do your best!

Somebody help!

Nowadays, and I think this is basically not a bad trend, many go to a psychologist, a psychiatrist, or to any other therapist who can help you break down the barriers that prevent your recovery. We also have to admit that these helpers earn pretty well with rummaging. They do nothing but direct you. Everything else is actually you. Your feelings, your efforts, your desires, your will, your failures, your pains. The doc will make a big money from your need, but you can be a lot richer if you get into the hands of someone who understands his or her business. Still, it is common knowledge that professionals are only visited by, you know, by goofies. And you’re not stupid. Then what would you be doing there? Your solution rather be frantic work-rush, braking-free sport, or the simplest and best: drugs. It can be done by everyone and it has such a therapeutic effect! You can do amazing things! And, if something remains from your experiences that you can still remember, you will quietly admit to yourself that you have no idea who is the animal that comes from inside when your blood alcohol level rises to the height of your problems. Suddenly there’s no control and sometimes you feel this is what you really need. Even then, it’s okay to hit somebody because you let go of your instincts. But this state, despite endless attempts, did not bring anyone closer to his peace of mind. Yet how persistent is humanity doing this! We won’t give up. That’s it. The power is with us.

Without self-control

You’re standing here. You’re unsure. Your drug does not help, nor do I, and you don’t have enough money each week for a good professional, so whatever, he wouldn’t know anything about your life. I understand you! The awful truth is that the best things are for free. But it’s really true. Well, if you have a pen and paper at home, it’s free. You don’t need a shaman; you don’t need a doctor. Be brave and grab that pen. You can’t write, can you? You’ve always got bad marks for your essays in school, and anyway, you don’t even know how to form letters, because you’re in your phone all the time … Maybe you can save your situation. Nobody is going to evaluate this now. Put some music in, and you know what? If you need a glass of wine, some beer, now that won’t be a problem. After all, we’re not Tibetan monks to get an out-of-body condition from the shelf. The key is to give yourself time! And write! Write everything, without thinking. Don’t stop for a second. Write down everything that comes to your mind, write, write, write as long as you can. No matter what comes, let it come. Don’t stop, you don’t have to meet anyone’s expectations. If you do it right, you will practically not understand what you are writing about. It can be a real flow experience, even if it’s not so classic. If you practice a lot, you can achieve amazing results. Most importantly, you will be shocked when you read back what you have inside. This is called association writing. Very useful, you have to give it a try. It may not be the first, it may be the sixth experience, but then you will realize how much it is worth.

Get out!

The secret is to be open to objectification. You have to put out what’s inside and then anatomize. Until you have formulated it, you may not be aware of its existence because you cannot identify it yet. When it’s a little outside, you can look at it, because while you’re guarding your problem inside, you may not know its real self. There are memories and grievances hidden in us that we would not think existed at all, and if we succeed in conjuring them up, it is often painful to recognize, painful to relive. It is not true that there is no need to tear the wounds up. I think we should. You have to clean it, otherwise it won’t heal. If you allow your worries (and others) to find their way out, you can finally let them go. From the outside, the solution will be much easier. Many times it is enough to actually embody these negative feelings in words. This will make it easier for you to get to know yourself because you live with them, even if you have been denying it for so long. So set these painfully destructive energies next to you, get to know them. If they are finally alienated from you, you are ready to continue on separate paths. Let them go!

Slow down!

Don’t hold on to your worries anymore, do want the change! This is a rushing world, they say. Do you need this? Do you need to get nervous every day, rush and waste your unique, wonderful life on things that make no sense? Do not hurry! There is nowhere to. Today is the only one that is yours. This moment, nothing else. You have let go of your past and your future hasn’t arrived yet. That’s all you have. If you are here, you have just faced the need to bring your body into harmony with your existence. Take your time! Listen to the sunshine, the moments of life, the counting of the stars, the laughter, the hug, the scent of the rain, the love, the true and unrepeatable presence. These will make you rich. It is not what you have achieved in your life that determines you. It may be decades of hard work for you, but for others it may easily mean nothing. You are what you have become, what your everyday life made from you. Wealth abides in you. You are rich, you can enjoy it, you will see its wonders, if you allow yourself to truly live.

pic from pixabay.com

Escaping from Mr. Hodgkin

Painted that smile to my chemo-destroyed and pale face because you loved it. My thinning hair was cut long ago, you loved the long, maybe this way too… Covered my shattered body into black, getting into your fav perfume, it was needed, you loved that. We’re going to a concert. The Concert. After all those months there was no escape, we had to meet. Fear and longing fought fiercely under my pale skin, but I couldn’t let it be seen by anyone, because Mr. Hodgkin himself was waiting for me. Only two hours of travelling by train separated me from looking into his eyes again. I was afraid that everything I had been denying for eighteen painful, chemical-soaked, smoky and lost months would be true.

And then he stood in front of me and it was as if he wasn’t there, as if I wasn’t there. He didn’t refuse me by love, not by hatred, by fear or jealousy. And I just had to keep playing, I couldn’t die at the very first moment that I meant nothing to him. Because I didn’t go there for it, because I wanted to feel so good. I had to drink a lot, a great deal, to cover my frustration. We talked superficially, about superficial topics, as I slowly thawed in the connected sea of ​​man and became redundant. He didn’t touch me; he didn’t even look at me. That is how we started it, and it was the start of a much-desired summer night, and we listened to the most defining tunes of our superfluous relationship without even meeting our gaze for a moment. I could not have felt more lost while the euphoria of the frantic crowd ripped through the darkest canvas of denial in me and pushed me into the incomprehensible depths of rejected loneliness. And then the redemptive rain came, and by then I could cry and roar with all my pain into the noise. I screamed, sobbed, and he stood there, back to me. Then I felt that I might never had seen him from the front.

We were completely immersed in the soul-torn, agonizingly beautiful thunder of rebirth, when he finally grabbed and squeezed my hand for so long, he pulled me along the crowd without saying anything. I just went after him, and he didn’t look at me. Everything that followed was already over the signs of the path of destruction. The night brought him back to me again and he kissed me, hugged me, and we made love again and he despairingly called me back into our never ending game. I saw his fear, his pain, how much alone he was still in his own prison, and how unimaginably far apart we were. He didn’t want to let me go, but I had to go, run, tear, run away from him, far from myself, so far away where we could no longer exist.

The light of dawn found me in a non-stop. I was sitting there, just watching the peaceful silence of Budapest awakening through the window. I didn’t feel anything, I had no questions, I wasn’t looking for answers anymore. My skin was no longer burning, my lips were not trembling in the abandoned love. There was no truth, nothing left. I wasn’t angry with him anymore, and I forgave myself. I didn’t hold my phone longing for a message, I didn’t want to hear his voice anymore. The emptiness, the purity broke apart my soul, so that without any doubt, I felt it in my bones, in my cells, I knew that I could finally let him go, that I had not just decided that I would not go back there, in those minutes of destruction and liberation while I was letting it happen something superhuman, some inexplicable peace arrived. That door was closed and now finally I was the one who closed it, and was no longer clinging to the door handle to open it again.

Of course he called me that day, he wanted to hear my voice, he wanted to tell me that he missed me so much, and he regretted that he acted like that and put away my bracelet and wanted to see me and ask me when I would be his again. As always. I just smiled. I had never seen him so clearly, who was the one I loved so much. He called many times, years later, but we never met, not even by chance, because I didn’t want to. I understood that this game would have lasted forever if I hadn’t kicked up the puppets and stepped off the field that morning. Because this game wasn’t about me, he didn’t love me, but it just took me so damn long to accept it.

In this soulless maze, I became just an object, but I could have been anyone. He needed my freedom, my youth, my passion, anything except me. He didn’t want me, just fled to me, but I couldn’t help him. He grabbed me with his giant hands to go so deep that I couldn’t escape alone. I let the darkness turn into light, so that betrayal would become love. I believed that the self-destructive curse what he embraced me with in that fall was a blessing. All his suffering, his loss became mine.

I let him go, a piece of us broke out, and never reached me again. I understood the teaching, and I am grateful to have been given a new life. I understood why I chose this path, worked hard to accept that all the suffering I had to endure in the healing process was for a reason. Everything happens for a reason. But I had to wait another ten years to understand him and sincerely forgive him for what he did to me.

photo: pixabay.com

Loving through dimensions

That night was a year after when I thought that I finally let Him, the destroyer of my life, go. Of course, nothing had changed. At that time, I could cry, I wanted the advanced level, I had already got eight portions of poison during my chemotherapy. My blood vessels, my organs, my life were shattered. I survived the days in total pain, in total emptiness, in constant dizziness. Although three months had passed since the last treatment, I still didn’t go towards the finish line. So my doc was targeting a surgery and some radiotherapy. I had stopped painkillers, only weed left. At least it was natural, at least it helped. And what a quality I got! Merlin was the master. For such a long time he had been sending me the finest ingredients, but I had never met him.  After the very first lights of the bong, my half-living body, suffering from vomiting and the unbearable, burning pain in my veins finally relieved which made me include his name into a prayer so many times. It was me, and my whole sick existence, and Merlin, the dealer who brought the redemption for me.

That strange constellation

At that certain night a party was held in another city where nothing else mattered just the fact that I had the chance to meet with my wizard and thank him all the good thinks he had done for me. Those happy, painless hours spent with demolishing huge sandwiches together with sausages and ice-cream. The emptiness, the lack and the fact that I couldn’t vanish Him away from life was burning inside of me. The velvety spring air caressed my face and I couldn’t wait to get high again. When I entered the bar, I was totally disappointed after realizing that Merlin was not there, but he was found upstairs. Even though we had never met before, even though I knew nothing in the world about him, just that he was the dealer, the world suddenly ceased to exist when Merlin stood in front of me. I’m not exaggerating if I say that approx. in the zero moment we were inexorably in love with each other. We tried to give some time to the formalities, but very soon found ourselves together, hidden from curious eyes. What happened between us would not be believed by anyone else, because it cannot be explained by any reason of consciousness. It went beyond all levels of earthly existence. That night the stars shone differently.

We had met somewhere

With Merlin the silence got an excitingly new meaning. We couldn’t and even didn’t want to say anything to each other, but when he kissed me, centuries ran through our souls. Both felt that was not the first time we met. We had to be together somewhere, somehow in the dimension of time. His closeness filled me with such natural calmness, he came so incredibly close to my soul that I had never experienced before. We could not put it into words, we did not need to talk about it, we lost in each other’s pure beauty, in the certainty that we were part of a higher existence and received something from life that was so precious.

We recognized each other in this life, and something that was once lost finally got its place again. We stood there, hugging each other, surrealistically and completely in love. We were kissing again and again as if we never wanted to let go of that moment. There was nothing that night, nobody, just us together. My painful emptiness and suffering wasn’t with me. I let the miracle happen because I knew the dawn would separate us once and for all.

Release number 2

If I had thought before that my rotting body and my insane feelings and thoughts had pushed me completely deep, then yes, I had to be prepared to work deeper than ever. The dawn came and took the magic. We both knew that we had nothing to look for together in this life. Recognizing this became my most painful and beautiful feeling. We met because it was written to reunite for a moment. He came because he wanted to teach me something. He had to come because he had to give me strength, faith that I could still feel, that I could still love, and the reason why I had to continue. At the same time, I felt that the unearthly love, he had given me, destroyed me and that the emptiness, he had left behind, was more frightening than I had ever expected. Sure, I had my Merlin to go and I undoubtedly believed that I could survive after that. From one of the deepest nooks of my dark soul I got a clear message that the only thing I could feel was gratitude.

The unimaginable

After that, we have met just a few time, and not in such quality. Once, we took each other’s hands. We reconnected. It sounds childish, but if you hold a hand of someone whose existence and arrival is so inexplicable, it is a truly soul-raising sensation. In fact, it took only a few days and we returned to our old lives. I had to fight many more to see my laundry, stained by Mr. Hodgkin, getting dry in their brilliant clearness in the sun.  Even though the sadness was so grievous I was closer to my dreams than I believed. I got enough power to continue. It is certainly difficult to imagine that two souls can meet for a while just to bring that relief but I have faith in it. After so many years I’m as grateful as I was at that time because he came and saved me. I got an invaluable gift but I could let him go, because in this life our story couldn’t continue with each other.

photo from pixabay.com

Empty existence- My adventures with Mr. Hodgkin

Loving him was like admiring the dance of the teeming maggots in a mellow cherry. Beautiful sight, sweet flavours, but really everything was rotten inside. This knowledge didn’t arrive to me with the years, even then I saw exactly that everything was a lie, just worthless pretence, but I couldn’t let it go, I couldn’t accept that it couldn’t be true. With a hard and unsaid goodbye in that morning I went on a new journey, a journey I never knew how long it would take. My referee left me, so I promoted myself and was looking for new games, as I waited for him coming back every day, and every night I wanted him to call, to write, and to go back to our little, well-created hell. But he didn’t come, he did nothing. He disappeared as if he never existed, leaving a space which was impossible to live with.

Play with me!

I thought that I would finally be happy with the freedom and I could live normal weekdays as normal people, that I could find the meaning of life without him and I could let all those pain he had caused. But I proved to be a good disciple. I thought maybe this weekend’s sacrifice would make it easier, and then the next one, or else, the next one would really be a love. Or nobody. No one left. The lack burned, hurt, I felt less every day. A new addiction woke up in me. I became as insensitive as he was. And over time, I was no longer trying to find love. I knew I was completely incapable of it. I played clearly, yet dirtier than ever. I never lied, I never told anyone I was going to be something, but like some Merlin magic, the curse came. The closer someone wanted to get to me, the farther I went. Moved away from reality, human feelings, I needed only the relief for my tortured soul. Not for a moment, no, I didn’t believe that anyone could love me or that I could love anyone except him. As I was really longing for the absolution, I was drifting further and further away from the disentanglement, from myself.

It had to be true

So much time had passed without him. He wrote to me sometimes. Sometimes he loved me, sometimes he didn’t want to hear about me. Sometimes he wanted to escape from the world with me, sometimes he felt insulted because of his family and asked me not to harass him. Sometimes he called to tell me I was really missed, sometimes he called to tell me I would never look for him again. Sometimes he looked at our photos, sometimes he wanted to delete everything. Me too. I couldn’t. Our last chance to meet was so far away. Some x-es and y-s even z-s came, but they couldn’t help me. I really hurt them all because I didn’t know who I was and desperately tried to hold onto my ability to feel. No, he couldn’t change everything, he couldn’t lie, I couldn’t believe everything, I was lost, too lost in him. Months were flying around me, people, storms rushed through my life without even noticing them, only that space, that space was hurting more and more.

My suffering went through many stages, my grief over losing him, maybe just as the cancer spreaded in my body. A spring passed, a summer passed, and I lived in perpetual denial. I didn’t need anyone, I needed everyone. I was never alone, I always felt alone. I waited, but I knew there was nothing to wait for. I longed, even though I knew he had never really made me happy. But I already believed everything, I believed it was so good and that he would come again, he would really come. But he didn’t.

Diagnosis

And by the end of the summer I was out of my surgery, but in complete ignorance, in the pursuit of all sorts of pleasures. He promised in August that he would come that he needed me … so much. I waited all day and didn’t want to believe he was lying to me again. He said later we couldn’t have done it. Maybe he was right. And on August 29th, my first chemo was bound. He didn’t know about it, and not  for a long time. He left me, and I was really left. Blinded by that lost I couldn’t see the light, not even the tunnel. I wasn’t afraid, it didn’t hurt anymore. Nothing really mattered. For half a year I had been waiting for getting a single signal that I didn’t just imagine everything, that I wasn’t crazy. Time passed around me and I was floating through painfully empty weekdays like I was sitting in an empty jar. Dumb voices, feelings, desires were lying to one another and tore my unnecessary existence to pieces.

photo from pixabay.com

Look deep down in your eyes

You don’t have to read a lot of from Freud or watch psychotherapists to see that we are not perfect. It doesn’t really matter how much our parents loved us, how much velvety are the memories uprising from our childhood, we know exactly that all of us were damaged somehow. If not at home, then in kindergarten or in school. If not even there, then surely there was a grandfather, an uncle, someone who left a sign in ourselves and did it mostly in a bad way. That’s it. We’re all human.

Who lives, then gets hurt too. It is correctly claimed that we learn from these things, but it isn’t taught how to handle these perceived and real grievances, indignities. Not everyone knows where to go, whom to say. So often the situation is too hard to live it through this is why we usually can’t share these problems with others. Suppression is such a tiny little thing, no one is needed as a company, we can do it pretty well alone. However, in this perfectly enlightened world the wisdom of not suppressing anything quite often come to us. Do not let these negativities poison you. Then what to do?

Be honest with yourself!

This game starts with a firm conviction that you are not better than the others. It seems like that, I know. We all believe that we know for sure. If you succeed in believing that you are a fallen man, you will help a lot. Then something new is starting. You can get to know yourself, which can be an incredibly painful journey, but nobody can do it instead of you. Have you ever wondered about why it is so hard to check your reflection in the mirror sometimes? You can lie to many people, and there are some who upgrade their everyday masks to almost perfect, but they all have to face with themselves finally. Your make-up should be washed and your fake smile should rest a bit after wearing them all day long. And then you are the only one who stayed. This is why the nights are so frightening. During the hours of darkness our demons come even if we don’t recognize them at first, they know us extremely well. Their massages are important and “must listen”. The dark passengers are taken with ourselves and the only way to get rid of them is to admit their existence. So let’s meet with your special dark side. We have to understand who he is and why he is here with us. We also need to know why we are not allowing him to go, because he basically doesn’t insist on us, but we on him, even if we are trying to suppress his imaginary power with all our strength. He has his power until we let it and the size of this power only depends on what we created for him. Ask him where he came from and what he wants!

Say it!

If you choose this journey some obstacles may arise just to unsure you. If you pay enough attention, you will come to the point that any obstacle will truly protect yourself. Old grievances, agonizing memories, wounds believed to be forgotten are all struggling to not revive them. They do everything, really do everything, that you do not want to relive them, do not want to look for reasons, and most of all do not look for answers, because in this process at first there is much more pain than joy. Liberation and relief are just for those who survive the suffering at the beginning. One of the most difficult things is to be honest to ourselves. If we can practice this in everyday life, we will be better people and more tolerable for ourselves, it’s guaranteed.

If we can draw up in every life situation what we think and why we say, my friend, success is yours, for sure. If you can recognize and handle all what are hidden behind your instincts and passions, life with yourself will be much easier. To do this, you have to say out (loud) everything. Everything. At first, only for yourself. To this phase not anyone would be involved. If you need to, then choose a professional. I mean a psychologist, psychiatrist, therapist, shaman, yogi- they are absolutely not just for mentally ill and retarded people. No. Whatever we call them, they can help if you can’t help yourself. This is not a weakness. You just have to be honest with yourself and admit if you feel that you will not be able to cope with the certain problem alone. If you trust someone during your journey, it is a holy gift, not a shame. The goal is to talk about those things that are deep down, even hiding over your consciousness. Sometimes you simply have to laugh at yourself. It helps.

After you say them, all the pain seems to be a little, may be just a tiny little but farther away from you. It can happen that after letting them go away, you won’t feel the heaviness and you will realize how funny is your point of view. No one says that introspection ignores humour. You can tell, if you want to, that you were a bit idiot. The point is to stay honest, the most sincere. There is no reason to lie to yourself. Sooner or later the truth would come back to you if you skipped this rule. It’s possible that a constant headache or even a peptic ulcer would shout it loud. You can’t hide the truth. It is in you.

Talk!

When you recognize the need for self-knowledge, you will start talking about it involuntarily. It’s a wonderful, liberating feeling that you want to share it. You see, I do that too. It’s a pure multi-level marketing. It infects you and you think you will get a commission if you involve others in the party. In fact, it is only about that these things cannot be said enough. When you experience how wonderful it is to get on well with yourself, you feel you have to show it to others. This may be the new lines of the song: if you get on well with you, clap your hand… But really. Talking is good. You need to talk. As an outsider or watcher of your life you can see, hear objectively those things that are just in your mind or in your soul, and it is highly needed. A good conversation brings us together and bring you closer to your real existence. You should talk about your feelings even if you were mightily taught to hold them inside. Do not believe them because those suppressed thoughts, feelings will begin to co-operate with each other, and they find a place of assembly in your body. From your ignorance they will build a revenge army and attack you. Yep, they can create a serious disease for you and if you don’t get on well with you and you don’t know yourself enough, then you won’t understand what is happening to you. However, you are never really outside of your body, not even when you want to believe it. You are in. You are all your cells. So, free them from the oppressive darkness!

Let it go!

Now you know how you are. You know, you have to do the right thing in this life. You have learned that your feelings belong to others. You’ve met the forces inside you and you recognized the ability to change. It’s time. No, no one really does it for you. Throw every shit out of your soul and your mind that you don’t need in your new life. You don’t need to get involved in unnecessary, energy-shattering relationships, even if it’s your family. Nobody has a perfect family. In this single life, surround yourself with people you love to spend time with, and whom you can give with pure heart. They are needed and they need you.

The focus is on mutuality. Obviously this is not a business, but you already know that you can’t give from yourself more than you are, so don’t even try. Release everything from your life that does not take you forward. You already know who you really are, and you have also realized during your journey who are standing next to you, with who you can experience the magic feeling that you are living and you don’t need to be different than you are. Because you are beloved. It moves the world: love. So, let it flow!

photo from pixabay.com

Because you came- Adventures with Mr. Hodgkin

He came from nowhere; I know that was because I called him. From an emptied relationship I had to move away, from a fictional life I had to get realization and build myself up from the very beginning. He was so obvious, so easy, so worthless and so irresistibly nobody. But he was there in front of me, two steps lower than me to get that eye contact. I saw clearly that every woman is his, that he had never known the meaning of no, that I wouldn’t escape neither and that I probably didn’t want to escape at all. The hug of his huge arms called me in and I needed to feel the illegality, outrage, the periphery of existence, when I had no explanation for anything to anybody and I could take everything I wanted without a slight felling of remorse. Those eyes shouted that he was in burning desire just like me. I had nothing to say. He grabbed my shoulders and only said in protest that I wouldn’t do it. We talked clearly to each other, nobody equivocated. He had a family, and I had nothing to lose. He owned the body I wanted. I owned the body he wanted.

In the cold light of shining stars

Our first date, the beginning of peril, the first night of decadence burnt unforgettable memories. I can write this way; I know that he feels the same for sure. I would never have been able to imagine such a wonderfully simple, such a sense scattering intoxicant and passionately senseless intercourse. We cut in each other’s flesh with our desires; the merger of our will melted in a wonderful harmony. His whole existence came close to me, I let myself close to him, but we knew nothing about each other, moreover we didn’t want to know anything about each other. With this quiet release, we moved to a level where I hadn’t been before. There was nothing other than the unearthly delight of two bodies, a higher level of existence in which no matter what I was and no matter who he was. We were together just for us and we allowed ourselves to be captured by the everlasting lustful humility which vibrated in that room for long months. Black out.

Always and again

When he fell asleep besides me I felt the endless distance between us and in the very first moment this reality touched me. He was lying in his naked entity and I left him without thinking. I didn’t want to spend another second with him. Not then and not in any other dawn. But the passion woke up every night and he came as if I was ringing with a secret bell. We lived in each other’s body with a hypnotic and unconscious admiration. In every blessed evening I was waiting for my phone to ring and for him to come while I hated him the same way for what he did with me. But the phone always rang and I bided him dressed like the worst slut to take me apart again and to build up a sanctuary for my female existence and to admire on his knees my unrepeatable youth. I was longing for his desires though I felt he pulled me deeper and deeper and I drifted with the flow, accepted that nothingness, that simple emptiness, that soulless corporeality.  We didn’t talk to each other. He didn’t want me just grabbed what excited him and did everything he could to give me what I wanted. I felt that this was not normal, but somehow it simply went. For every blessed day I decided it would be the last.

Let me go!

We truly built up a real rotting hell around us filled with infantile happiness. We hated each other, argued a lot and promised hundred times that never again. During the day. But in the evening we were overwhelmed by our crazy passion and whenever, anytime he came to take me away I never could say no to him. Never. Months passed in this unbearable living, in this constantly drunk love, in this everlasting lust. Nights inchmeal became longer and longer and those dawns found us together. Our days slowly became enlaced and we spent endless hours together while we both knew we couldn’t get rid of each other. I tried to escape, desperately, fearfully, painfully, but he did not let me go. While after a long dizzy night of love, I woke up and realize that I had absolutely nothing. He couldn’t be mine, and I didn’t need anybody else. So many times I tried without him, so many times I asked him to leave, he never did. And I was captured. There was no feeling left in me. I didn’t love him, I didn’t love myself, but I couldn’t be free.

Love

That night was incredibly different like never before. Embrace, sanity, talk. So the first time when I realized that we unbelievably didn’t know anything about each other I also felt a calm hug surrounding me and I didn’t want anything else just to enjoy that unimaginable and endless tranquillity. Everything was so pure, silent and simple. He loved me like he had never before, he kissed me and he was longing for me as if it was the last time in his loving arms. These were the absolute, sincere hours of our never-existing love. We were honestly there for each other. In spite of the unmeasurable pain and lust that was the first and the last night when we devotedly made love. No one could take away that tenderness, the dance of our senses, the deeply carving truth of the music, the illusion of our endless and unique kisses. Real love shone around us, though I already hated him so much, but somehow everything was different. We couldn’t get enough of the beauty that surrounded us. It was a cold, a so cold early spring dawn.

Last time

Next morning, he said nothing just kissed me out on the street. Never before. His eyes were sad. Never before. He caressed my face. Never before. He didn’t mention we had to say goodbye. I knew we had to, but I didn’t need that pain. He let me go with that fear, with that uncertain grief and that day I found a tumour behind my clavicle. I recognized the beginning of something wrong and I was crumbled to dust. I broke into pieces. Nothing mattered, though I didn’t get a diagnosis then, for that matter, not for a long time. I just felt like I was lost. No worth, no feeling. The only one I wanted to love was gone, and I couldn’t find myself for a terribly long time.

photo from pixabay.com

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