adult male rape, Images, Recovery, trauma
020116rarespirit

INTIMATE FRONTIERS

 

One of the final frontiers left on my trauma recovery trail is intimacy without thoughts of chemical crutches. Through my adventures I have come to fully appreciate, embrace, understand and honor the impact trauma has had on my sexual unraveling. As I continue to mend the last of my obscure life interruptions. My approach has remained sensitive yet expeditious to right what feels wrong within. 

Sex and intimacy are two subjects that have been increasingly seeking attention within my mending psyche. Like all matters of internal importance, when the time arrives for me to heal and release them. I experience what I describe as an electrical itch or a soft urgency. Overtime I’ve “plugged” into my own inner clatter of sub-current speak. I do my best to listen and react knowing that my higher self has prepared me to move onward. 

I then begin a sensitive and respectful process of analyzation. Followed by my spiritual and human work, whatever feels right at the time. Before I know it issues begin to dissolve and release. Once the wheels are in motion matters mend rather fast. Through this wonderful mashed up journey of mine. I have been afforded the gift of heightened personal awareness. Along with a desire to take ownership and action of what many of us call our “personal truth”. What was once a process based on fearful hesitation is now rooted in joyful anticipation. I mend most issues fairly swiftly these days. Rather than pushing them off onto endless task lists. No longer do I treat my life as a chore, I am excited to experience change. I am now a participant in my own life, no longer a by-stander. 

Since the experience of my rape in 2011. Intimacy without chemicals has been a seemingly impossible situation to conquer. I have abstained from sex for just over six months now. Living in fear of flesh, sex and slamming is not a life time solution. It is what I choose to do for this period of time. 

Sex for the time being is not worth the price of admission. Not if the cost of entry is possible death by meth. I am not against the use of drugs, let me make this clear. I am not the moral police, I think drugs can be a hell of a lot of fun. Or…

Speaking only for myself, rape and crystal meth addiction took me to the darkest of spaces. They nearly took everything from me, they both left me for dead. My body mind and spirt felt like a peasant beaten in the dark of night by authorities in a third world country. Bloody, cold, unvalued, forgotten, not even a statistic… Just another discarded gutter fag. 

CURRENT TRUTH
Messages of intimacy continue to erupt around me. In my thoughts, my art, dialogues, writings and meditations. At a gallery opening this Saturday past, the subject of rape was a topic shared in private between several woman and I. As they asked questions about my photography and the subject matter. The images are a reflection of my mending experience after my gang rape. The images specifically encapsulate the “middle space” of my healing process, post darkness. When light begins to re-enter ones life. They are about the comfort of being SAFE. The tears flowed from a few of the women’s eyes. As they shared with me their own intimate tales of assault. One woman spoke of her experience for the very first time. 

An earthy sophisticate in her early 70’s described a terrified and obviously determined 10 year old girl. She had kept locked deep within safe from family, authorities and monsters. A fragile child never allowed to be speak for all these years. I was deeply honored that she felt SAFE to share her story. I stood with her as she held my hand I shared some of my accumulated perspectives. Along with a few tools that have helped me on my path. She had no tools 60 years past in rural Indiana. “He did the crime, I received the life sentence” she confided. For me this marked the beginning of the end of a long drawn awareness cycle. Or the opening to the closing of my intimacy release.  

CONTINUED OPENING TO A CLOSE
The following evening while on a rare venture to a club here in Chicago. I was busy doing my usual hoof and shuffle. Through thud and base while gagging on “fog juice.” I was approached by an extremely good looking and sexually aggressive young man. Although I declined his repeated advances. Intimacy triggers sparked through the epicenter of my pulsing brain. In general I do not “hook up” with folks I meet in clubs. This evening was no exception, I performed my usual twirl, cocktail and escape.

Not being able to figure out my emotions of the moment. I climbed from basement dance-hall in search of cab or sub-rail to destination home. That is when I had a snap second of desire. The desire was not sex, meat to hole. Although I had a nano-nag thought about companionship. Triggered by the handsome Mr. Generation next. My side saddle urge was to score a “teen” of  little wicked Tina. Then pop a rocket into my vein, this was not about getting high. This was about the demolition of fear and emotional retardation. I thank GAG (God Angels and Guides) for awareness, this is the key to all growth and recovery to all situations in my life. Ooh, sweet golden awareness, how I love thee.

Many men I know use crystal meth to take a sexual experience to a level of epic distortions. This was not my goal, my hope was to drop my own barrier walls. To be comfortable enough to allow another man to touch me, breath on and or in me. Most importantly to allow myself to reach out and be sensually connected. “Formal” sex was not a part of my conscious check list. My other objective was to be high enough to drop my sarcasm and humor. Often my defense mechanism when uncomfortable. 

This all sounds pretty basic, right? Passionate, tender heated, embracing, verbal one on one love. Love and communication without fear, free of hesitation void of calculated actions. Not so easy at this stage of recovery, difficult enough in daily life. Nearly impossible when rank and raw. I am getting there, patience is the other golden gift. 

This is not about body parts or geometry. This is about heart, head, flesh compassion and intuition. This formula use to be a part of my core approach to connective communication. Actually, it is still a part of who I am, it always will be. I proudly own this nugget of my personality. No matter how dormant it may be during this period of my semi-muffled sexual resurrection.

None of this is new, it is all part of the life detour recovery game. I am not special with this one, millions of us do it everyday. Anyone who is a champion in this accelerated course of Trauma 101 understands these various stages or repair. We all have our own pace and our own ways of making it through. I feel the shift, I see the horizon, I feel that this current veil has almost lifted.

Many I know in formal recovery programs would react to the very thought of sex and meth as a red flag. Naturally for many it probably should be, thats not my story. For me it was a 5 second cause to pause. It reenforced all that has been coming to the surface as I continue to move through these final frontiers. I realize now how much I have restored in my life. Just how much of me has come home to this temple of flesh no longer in decay. Recovery of any form in my eyes has zero timelines. It requires love, patients and personal sensitivity. It takes as many moments as needed to pause and shift up the game plan. Write your own rules or co-author with someone you trust not with someone you are suppose to trust.

All of our stories are important just as our lives are. We share our stories so we may heal. We also share our stories because this is how we help another human being in their journey. We each have a profoundly unique message and gifts in this lifetime. We each have our own platforms to use our voice. It may not be a lecture hall filled with Ted Talks fans, a blog, or big media presentations. It may be listing to your neighbor, being sensitive to a stranger on the street. Or finally being brave enough to let down our guard and be authentic with your partner a friend or even a family member. In these days of electronics that I adore, lets not forget the magic and power each of us harness.

Love and Light Always
The Empowered Runt

 

Intimate Frontiers

Aside
adult male rape, Recovery, trauma, Uncategorized, Video

This conversation continues, based on my perspectives and experiences through rape and recovery. My intention with these conversations is to encourage an understanding of what the act of rape actually is like for many of us. More importantly the process of recovery and living an abundant better and brighter life through the process.

No rape or trauma experience is the same, yet there are many similierties in the after effects and after care. Within the soft walls of these talks I share my concepts of love and recovery.

This particular talk is designed for those who may be supporting a loved loved one on the mend. And finding it difficult to understand the emotional shut downs or “triggers” behind a projected emotional illusional exterior.

Love and Light Always
The Empowered Runt

A BRIGHTER UNDERSTANDING PART II

Aside
adult male rape, Recovery, trauma
YDP121315

A RETURN of PUNK ROCOCO

THE RETURN of PUNK ROCOCO and THE SWISH MAN
Material goods do matter to each of us, I suppose. In various volumes, intervals and sizes.

This week I rewarded myself, with what I consider to be an insanely delicious find. Falling perfectly within the spectrum of my palette of 10,000 shades of taste. A sweet gold rimmed, floral dusted 60 piece plus antique dinnerware set. Including traditional borscht size bowls and all the service pieces. With storage bags and custom cut protectors for creamer, sugar bowl, butter plates, relish dishes, pie servers and such. Offered up at a generous price, wrapped with tender loving care. As if I where any other customer at my place of employment. For the first time in years I felt like a “norm” member of functioning society.

Oddly, I emotionally tripped out for a few days in a entirely new way. “Poor me,” I caught myself in a cloud of old thought splatters. “I have no storage to store these pieces, when will I ever have a place to call my own home again?” “Poor me, boo-hoo” the conversation continued within. “I have no one to cook for and no kitchen to cook in with no presentable space to serve”. …

Reality check dude, gentle calm comes as the rivers of progress and light flow. Showers of gratitude relax the mind and soul. This is no longer a trip of baggage or drudgery. Although this mini expenditure commanded four trips of escort to see this snappy-set back to the abode where I stay. After all this was a labor of reward and love.

One more time, as often the case. I breathed in a breath and exhaled slow, accessing the truth of my current state. It was time for one of my progress inventory self evaluations to put things in perspective. This always gives me clarity and confidence. Allowing me to return to my core determination, without force or friction. I then began to visualize the future, bathed in glorious possibilities.

I remind myself, it really does not matter how many pauses there may be on the road tween now and forever. Forward motion is an action of many movements. Sometimes part of action arrives in the form of a pause. Even periodic steps of reverse movement, a concept I have become understanding of over time. Momentary backward steps are where I have learned my most valued lessons. I have become grateful for any periodic hick-ups.

Life need not be difficult, but awareness sometimes arrives through the struggle of figuring “it” out. As the mind, spirit and core-self stretches it functions much like a muscle, in the body becoming stronger and expansive.

Throughout all these motions of learning I try my best remain aware. That there is continuous, mass life magic unfolding around me. I remind myself to always be sensitive to this fact. Each day I thank the forces that I engage with. Also I have learned to take time to thank myself for both the large and little steps along the way.

NO SNATCH
It can be easy to slip into the travesty of re-victimization of ones past. For myself, trauma at times has left me feeling as if everything in my life could be snatched away at any given moment. This is a lie, permeated deep into my nervous system, mind and flesh. From past events that no longer need be my truth. That moment has past, ownership of the present and future now rest proudly within my own palms.

The on and off again retraining of heart and head can be kick ass fun. As the blanket of lies of previous beliefs unravel. Powerful new truths are spun and revealed throughout each day. What I love, and what I have learned along my rape and trauma recovery trip is. I do not ever have to live as I have post-trauma or even pre-trauma again. I can live a life WAY BETTER than the life I had ever known at ANY TIME in my PAST. From birth through my tomorrows-

The true beauty of my life catastrophe, is it has stripped me naked of every illusion of learned living. I have decided to refinish my life and re-stain it the way I see fit. I have decided to Re-master and re-mix the livin’ cluck out of it. And that is pretty fricking awesome. I am still laying down the tracks, like all of this life it is a work in progress. I am slowly nailing it with a loving heart and at times an uncertain mind.

MURK-SKID
Now when my head slips into murky thought. I find myself on the mend, swift and quick after each dark dip. The plunges are shorter, darkness is lighter and the length of less frequent trips has contracted. These days I catch myself before I hit any deep trenches. If I do hit a what feels like and oncoming dark skid. I find them to be nothing compared to the hells of past detours. I actually giggle a bit when a pop flash moment passes over me with it’s dark soul sap. Now it feels much more like a cleansing rain in comparison to the past pain experiences. These moments now tend to last seconds, minutes or an evening, tops. Mad applause, mad progress and nods of acknowledgment to the forces above, around and within as always.

This morning I felt a need to snap a few shots of my new fancy-ass dinnerware. To prime my mind with inspiration and remember that I have options in life. Once more I may return to the days of “PUNK ROCOCO” and dine in service. In the early 90’s, my urban cabin rocked from floorboards to rooftop. With a decor of vibrance and whim, often wanted I’ve lusted refine and re-explore this this side of my nesting visions. But I have been to scattered, to afraid and filled with self doubt. Now I am finally free to redesign all segments of living body, spirit and house. To entertain seems like nothing to some, after living in fear of people for the past four years or longer this is a massive goal. I am now ready to open the eventual doors of home now that the shutters of my heart are unshackled once more.

The greatest gift of my queer “SWISH” heritage (terms of my choosing). Is being proud of slapping together a mash up of razor sharp living with no apologies. Dripping with gold leaf, flounce and fleur de lis, along with crisp clean lines or whatever design collisions rock my trousers on any given day.

I now understand that I/we/anyone can live the best life possible. Unstoppable are we, nothing is unreachable, yes perhaps proper time may be needed. But our dreams, desires, and determinations are all in the works with our chosen intentions in motion. With our best interest at universal heart. We can live our highest truth and achieve our perspective joy.

At work I don’t believe anyone knows my full story, that is probably best. Only bits, chips and a few word droppings… not many in my “real” life know the full spun tail either, perhaps to much to digest for some. The mind gags with what it can not digest, as always I understand we are only human. I don’t think many can possibly understand. When a man looses everything, simple gestures of fulfillment can fill voids unexpectedly. (gratitude reflective smile)

Even I did not know how much one set of silly frilly dishes could mean to one boy. Who now uses the word man more than I ever thought I would. My grannie dishes symbolize more than a material purchase. Eventually filling a cabinet or being a beautiful presentation piece for a home spun feast. They are a represent progress, hope, recovery, discovery, and symbolic marker of rebirth and a return to a higher self.

Funny, suddenly I have a strong desire to serve salmon. With a side dish salad sound track of Edward Scissor hands, Berlioz, Richard Hell, Sex Pistols and Miss Patsy Cline. Along with a guest list of many for a dinner divine.

Through this experience I humbly have a greater understanding of the importance of my job. A not for profit resale shop. Helping the HIV and queer/trans community here in this City of Wind. A place I may not have normally visualized myself employed at. In a city I normally would not have chosen to return to. If not for the circumstance of a soul implosion.   I do believe there is a reason for everything, always with my choice to opt in or out.

For our clients and self as well, what may seem to be a simple and unimportant purchases. Really can give a lift, shift and roll to an individuals perspective on life and self value. When you have lost dignity, spirit, home, health, body, self worth and mind just to name a few. A bushel of dishes and a kind gesture can go a long way.

NO SHAME GAME
Some shame the need or desire for material goods. I feel there is nothing wrong with decor or a frock uplifting a spirit or boosting ones worth. Actually I no longer believe in most forms of shame. I do agree with many who feel it is the decadence and sole reliance on only the material. That leeds to spiritual, emotional and social debt. These are the track marks of imbalance up the decaying arm of society. Leaving one greedy not quenched, hooked and always needing more. I am quenched and I wish to fill many a goblet-cheers and may we all pass a gift along. Of spirit, coin or deed.

Love and Light Always
The Empowered Runt

A RETURN of PUNK ROCOCO and THE SWISH MAN

Aside
adult male rape, Recovery, trauma, Video

Through my own experiences of loss and attraction. Both of friendships and family, as I have flowed jagged and soft through my journey of rape, trauma, addiction, self re-discovery and life expansion. I have felt moved to open up and document these sessions. These talks are based primarily on my own experiences with a clear understanding that many of us who are reclaiming our minds, bodies, emotions, sexualities and the rest of our lives. Share many common bounds as we ascend our chosen greater paths of living once more.

These particular talks are designed for those who may offer up open hearts and hands. Assisting a loved one on their journey and finding the process of healing sluggish, frustrating and confusing and perhaps not understanding why healing and a return to a “normal” life is not taking place as you find fit. Or in the time frame that is within your expectations.

These talks are from a s survivors perspective in hopes of providing a fresh layer of understanding. One that may not always be able to be taught by Flat text reading. Sometimes, no matter how empathetic an individual may be. It can be very difficult to fully understand the pain of another without the experience of rape and trauma. I wish my gang rape upon no one, nor the wicked trip to needle park.

Love and Light Always
The Empowered Runt

A BRIGHTER UNDERSTANDING PART I

Aside
Images, Recovery, trauma

SAFE

On Monday, July 27th 2015, I experienced my first and last methamphetamine drug overdose. The result of a dinner date gone wrong, or right depending on your perspective. This reflective snippet flows outward following a month of vibrant spiritual experiences. I suppose it is true, you have to die to see the light. I came close enough and now all feels right.

On July 23rd I put out a request, or as they say an intention, to the Universe-my God-my Source. A request to deliver a speed round of events (no pun intended) of life lessons. A sort of “lets get the show on the road” kind of thing. To finally wrap up this dragging chapter of trauma and addiction. The time had come to move on with living, teaching and enjoying this awesome life.

I seem to cycle on the magic number of three, I don’t know why I just do. Three days later, on July 27th the Universe delivered in full force. With a dinner date, admittedly somewhere within my subconscious I had some questions marks floating around it. In all sober truth I knew there was a possibility of a “slam bam” time (using drugs).

I fooled myself, after all this was a date with a prominent psychiatrist. A man well known and successful, what could possibly go wrong? We both where attracted to each other for being decent guys. Supposedly neither of us where “game players.” Just two real men who found each other “trustworthy” “refreshing” and all of that. Well enough of the denial fantasy talk-lol

Instead of Pork Chops and romance I had been left for dead. Soon to reside at the Weiss Memorial ICU for the next four days. And so my spiritual catapult began, as always I never regret any moment of my journey!

Certainly I had to wrap my head around knowing my mom at the age of 82 had to see her son for the first and only time in the ICU. Wired to life saving contraptions, heart leaping from chest muscles and mind literally being eaten away by chemicals. I was beyond completely freaked the fucked out on drugs-insanity.

We had not spoken since December, I can’t imagine a reunion much more dramatic or painful. Than to receive a call that your 52 year old child is possibly going to die from an overdose, please come immediately. Fortunately she really does not understand what meth is all about. Denial and lack of knowledge can be marvelous copping tools. Along with the calming effects of my loving younger brother supporting her on the scene.

This would be the one moment I wish I could alter out of everything. To erase a my mothers grievous moment of pain, fear and sorrow. Although if not for this relatively short exchange of pain.Our relationship that has been in constant strain would not have mended as it has. Years of generational scars have evaporated within in weeks. Funny how tragedy heals suddenly you realize how silly so many things are in life. And love is love and the rest really doesn’t matter.

NOW ONTO THE POST OVERDOSE REFLECTION: I Am Safe

The door to who I am opened and I surrendered, I let go. It felt so right to finally let it all out. 
The door remains open, now I know all that I ever need is already here. Lastly I understand the undiluted meaning of trust. I am free, I have let go of fear and I have let go of all assumed debts to my spiritual self.

From childhood to now, all illusions of suffering, self forgiveness, guilt, and judgment have been dissolved. My extensive list of self critiques has been released. My mass collection of “whatever’s” from others, the list of ancient artifacts gathered over the years. Have not been forgotten, its as if they never existed. Boom back to birth, I am free no worries. I take comfort in knowing I am ok designed exactly as I am, with all the talents and attributes that I have been given. Every worry, all bullshit, all self editing has been lifted.

In pure God Speed style, I have liberated my need for acceptance and rejection. Never had I a thing to prove, never a thing to loose. On occasion I had been told this, but how could it be true? Not until reconciled could I let go, now I have no restrictions and no rules, life is so fucking cool. My core is my compass as it always has been.

At last peace, calm and serenity comfort me, I now know I am abundantly safe. That I am loved, I am perfect just as I am, just as we all are. I let go of all anger and doubt, along with everything I have ever been taught. Embracing everything I intuitively known, returning to original intelligence and instincts the same I have had since before I could crawl. Isn’t life funny, really it just cracks me up sometimes-peace.

Love and Light Always
The Empowered Runt-lil Big R

SAFE

Aside
Recovery, trauma

LIFE 81315LIFE MATTERS 81315

LIFE IS FUCKING COOL
With mornings sunrise edging up and over woodlands and neighboring rooftops. My spirt contemplates the most important decision to be made that day. Shall I rise to continue on this journey. Am I willing to fulfill my daily commitments to self and the world that surrounds. Will I venture deeper within to explore, accept and celebrate my personal truths? Soon my ever enduring vessel consisting of flesh, other matter and illusion responds with a resounding YES!

My morning head still foggy, rest cradled in a nest of down, cotton and twill. Tossing in a slow time-lapse motion. While twitches, of five a.m. lazy limbs wake my slowly emerging torso rolling from side to side. Legs, linger over mattress cliffs. As energy drifts guiding my feet safely towards destination floor.

I sigh, with calm excitement knowing morning rituals may now begin. As I kneel facing east, I gently kiss three times the lacquered slats of oak beneath my knees.

I bless the twenty-four before me with sincerity of heart. I am filled with deep appreciation for all gifts future, past and present. At peace, I visualize my truth du jour while reciting my rotating mantras. Prayers for the deceased are spoken and meditations begin. I fill myself unforcefully full with my creative and spiritual nutrients. Whatever the concoction may be that day. That is the fuel that will see me through.

Finally as my Bustello, my “holy water” blesses my inner tube-ways. I am focused, fresh, with a heart revitalized, gently jacked with empathy, compassion and my personal commitments at hand. I begin as I ended the evening prior. Plugged into my “Source” and understanding my truth. Having made the decisions to be empowered and embracing my freedom of voice. I exhale mindfully slow, embarking on a new untrodden day.

This all must seem like a lot of work to some, understandably so. “Why not a simple shower and a back door blast” you may ask.  Certain life events create a more complicated start. For some it is having a baby, or a heart attack others it is a bit more complex. The cool thing is you develop habits that are healthy. They linger as long as long as you decided they should last.

The above and a dash more if needed is worth it, I am worth it. Anyone who has experienced any trauma or addiction is worth it. For four years I could not walk down the street, get on the subway, go to work. Leave my home without my meth med injection to make life palatable that was the only way. I was completely afraid of being attacked. Old story-sorry for the repeat, but it was due to an intense gang rape.

Fortunately for me and inconvenient for some of those around me. I have moved through much of my rape crisis and the aftermath. Now I am working on setting that story aside, always with eyes open wide.

Not that long ago, November of twenty-fourteen my life began to re-evolve. I opened up to all that already exist within and around. With huge support from my dear friend and mentor Danielle (beautiful blessings). Slowly I have returned to my authentic “self”.

 These morning dedications have opened me to inner explorations and spiritual expansions. Some of these rituals I have been performing since the early 1980’s many more are new additions.

My heart had been begging for  a “truth-smack” up side my soul. A little wake up zap, to reboot my journey. I certainly had the choice to continue to live in fear. I had a choice to kill myself or to become a junkie hustler. All of those choices would be fine, I really doubt I would last long, I have a short fuse. So I listened to my core and yes it really sucked for a very long time and I am still recovering. But I fought and followed my inner voice and here I am. If on a daily basis I where not my own cheerleader, coach and best friend. By now would have literally reached my dead end.

Oh well, I learn the way I have chosen to learn. My view is I can only teach a lesson authentically, if I have lived the lesson I am teaching. I think that makes sense lol-have fun and thank you for reading.

Love and Light Always
The Empowered Runt-lil Big R

LIFE IS FUCKING COOL

Aside
Recovery, Video

MY INWOOD LOVE AUDIO/VISUAL FORMAT

In honor of Inwood, a neighborhood nestled at the northern tip of the Isle of Manhattan. It’s streets, sounds, rhythms, smells, and parks. Most of all to my humble shack, just four flights up and to the right. Number 4J at 204 Sherman Ave. This is where light, love, sex, trauma, addiction, joy, sorrow and so much more swirled delicate and thick. Turning this home into the hyper-spastic launch pad that allowed me to rip open my soul. Digging so deep into the gutter of my life it actually penetrated into past existences.

Finally brave enough to embrace, bash and dance with the muck and miracles of my past. All of them equally important to the development of my flesh, spirit and story in other words, this life of mine.

Eventually I finished that chapter of learning and now with my “damaged” self  on the mend. And a let’s get the show on the road attitude brewing. I finally had become ready to face the creation of this “visual therapy.” This is my final release, at last I am able to let go. Rather than breaking down, I lit up through this process. Now that is change, sweet ass mother clucking change.

I love every moment of every one of these experiences that flick through this “clip-o-tage”.  Dark or light, I never will insult my existence my wishing things had been different.  Perhaps I am fooling myself, but I still stand by my word I live with zero regrets. I am here, I share story, people respond this is living even when I fuck up I am growing-life rocks.

Yes, indeed every life matters, every minute, every word, every experience-they are who we are. Finally I can say I like who I am, better yet I like the people in the world around me because of who I have become. Again that is pretty fucking awesome!

Love and Light Always
The Empowered Runt-lil Big R

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