THE LIGHT THIEVES
(a bash back)
SUMMER 2016 marked a significant shift in my trauma healing. The rips, bends and shreds of both my waking and nightmare’s had begun to take a vicious turn. This has turned out to be a remarkably good thing, an unexpected mend. Although I never thought I’d feel the warmth at the end of my psychological trauma noose.
I have come to a place, mentally and spiritually of allowing, a slow awakening. A process of continuous slow cycles, I believe I have been preparing myself subconsciously to face my demons my mind has been increasingly in a slow spin pace for a very long time. Now I have reached my ready point for change.
My increasing waking and sleep terror’s have been erupting in my mind allowing more and more sensory explosions to occur. So much so that I may once again feel myself becoming whole, I have become internally undone in order to become one. I may now become the man I had yet to fully allow myself to be. The great hold up of the the Light Thieves that have held on to me captive since November of 2011 has finally begun to shift. May we all find our path to our truth temples and created destinies.
FOR THE NEW READER
After being gang raped in November 2011 by 11 men I lived in addiction and denial. It took all the love, light and patience that I could slowly muster to survive. A great deal of personal compassion and intuition was needed to move me ever so slowly on this journey. If I did not believe in some form of greater good, purpose or energy I most certainly would gone mad, lived in a state of continual suicidal mode or would have been arrested for homicide by now. Or the obvious option #black, found alone dead which is preferable to being trapped in an endless dark addiction spiral of destructive living, but here I am.
I am graciously grateful for the 10,000 opportunistic movements of personal, social and spiritual growth that this conglomerate of experiences has allotted me. But do not get me wrong, it fucking sucked and detoured my life perfectly and disproportionately.
SWEET AND LOOSE
The sweet reward of all of these night mares has been the recent rush of finally winning. I went from November of 2011 to March 2015 before I began to understand how deeply effected I was by my “Hall of Mares.” Very few had I remembered, generally partners, dates or roommates would fill me in on the screams, tears, and boxing matches on the day or night after a good round with the boy’s. Fighting it out in my subconscious, literally to death.
March 2015 was one of the first major waking terrors that lasted on and off for 3 days’s. All of my terrors had all been loosing battles of rape, bashing, thieving, and life threats up until these last few weeks when something unusual had taken place.
I had enough, I simply had enough, I had been ill and in a deep exhaustive sleep. One night while in a cold coma an attack thick and heavy crept in around me. In my safe non safe space (until you heal there are no safe spaces of the mind) one of my 11 attackers came for me in my dreams. I saw his face in perfect detail, beautiful young, cocoa and flawless with little boy ears. Short cropped hair, innocent eyes breathing warm and sensual danger in my face with the encouragment of his evil mentor. His body tight smooth, narrow shouldered … God! I could cry for him, this was a kid… he was a 22 year old child, just a lost child of the night. (sorry I digress)
What makes this dream different from my other terrors are the details. I never remembered the intensity of any of their eyes, or how fragile many of them where until this particular dream. All of my real life attackers in my dreams always remained faceless up until this night. Whenever I had flashbacks, no matter how real, awake or asleep, no matter where they took place, on the street, in a store or in bed. In general I only remembered or “flashed” to the sensations and the words used during the rape. The sensations I recalled in my horrors where the penetrations and the brute violence, the fear, of the event, never any exact details of the faces or bodies. The terror blocks it out, the electric blast of my brain created a protective white noise screen protector over the memory pane.
I only could remember the pain, the force, the blood dripping, the breath, the smells, the ripping of my flesh, never any faces. The darkness, the choking, the restraints, and my screaming, never any faces. I’d remember the sensations of the rape, not the faces, never ever the faces although the rape went on for hours with the lights on.
Denial is so beautiful, a protective blanket soft and luxe. I know that I am ready now to move forward, now that I am able to remember some of these eyes, mouths, bodies and textures.
On the night of December 22, 2016 I awoke the next morning with a room looking as if an exorcism had just taken place. My bed frame broken in two, a lamp laying stacked across my face, and a chocker neckless clutch in my hand. Surrounded by clouds of tear soaked tissues and my usual balled comforter and sheets. A few lingering memories, most sketchy and that was all. I had finally begum to bash back the Light Thieves, my rapist and the winner is finally me. I remember one thing, I fought back and I won!
I recall waking seeing one of my attackers with a “slave” collar around his neck. I grabbed the necklace hanging off of my nightstand lamp in real time. While pulling the necklace in my subconscious state I thinking it was his collar. I ended up pulling the lamp onto myself. I remember screaming with voice finally. NOT THIS TIME MOTHER FUCKER, GET THE FUCK OUT. LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE, I AM SICK OF THIS SHIT GET FUCK OUT NOW.
This was the beginning of the release of my rapist, my light thieves. My subconscious had at last become empowered to say NO and finally bash back my bashers. In my dream state world I would no longer be a victim, no longer attacked and loosing. Now I was the victor and changing the game plan. This is huge, these are now my rules, finally a breakthrough that is worth noting.
The dream world can be powerful tool, foretelling the truth a possibilities in ones active waking hours. Now that I have finally taken ownership of my power over these imaginary attacks I am able to move forward with out fear or inner corruption.
*an update, as of August 9th 2017 I have yet to have a rape night-mare that I am consciously been aware of or a day-mare….knock on wood. Hang in there, hope… there is always tremendous hope. We humans are wonderfully resilient.
Love and Light Always
The Empowered Runt