Yeah, I said I was done with this subject but apparently I'm not entirely. I've had an inordinate amount of trouble finishing the edits on the book and I am PISSED OFF! I can't afford a shrink so this is my therapy and anyone who doesn't like it can suck it.
My dad died at the end of last November after a long period of physical deterioration and descent into dementia
I keep remembering when I was a kid and feeling like nothing will ever be right again.
:-(
:-(
I really wish I had not lost my ability to connect with the spirit world. To those who were party to my losing this ability, fuck you so hard! What gave you the right to harangue me about my gift until the point where I could no longer believe in myself and I lost it? I make no apologies for being thoroughly cunty about this. I will never forgive you jerks.
The worst part is really not the Fundie Christinanes (NOT Christians--I have no issue with real Christians) who say that "comm-yoo-ni-kating with them thar spooks is EEVIL an' you will go to HELL for it. I just laugh at these buffoons.
The problem isn't even the acerbic Atheists, although their diatribe did get to me a little more than the Fundies because of my natural tendency to skepticism and particularly towards self doubt.
The problem wasn't entirely the fact that I had to ground myself rather completely in the material world over the past year to finish the nursing program either, although that really, really, really did not help. I had to lose parts of myself that were very important to me and now it's hard to get them back. I have had trouble re-integrating myself into "normal life." So, this played a pretty big factor.
But...
The greater problem was those individuals who claim that they believe in supernatural phenomenon but it is their way or the highway, or those who questioned my ability so much that I started to question myself right out of the ability to make these communications with the other side.
Yeah. Fuck you real hard. Bunch of self-righteous assholes.
I am angry at these jerks not only for the loss of a very meaningful connection to a spirit I had never met in life but whom I became very close to, but for the loss of the ability to connect with my father. Maybe I would have liked that, you fuckers. Maybe that would have been helpful to me. Again, FUCK. YOU. SO. FUCKING. HARD.
I miss you, Dad. Maybe one day I will be able to talk to you again. Maybe one day I will regain my faith.
Would you like some arsenic with that, you know-it-all crotch?
