Abused, physically and mentally. A feeling you never recover from. Surfaces at times after sleep. It feels like you never fully wake up. My spirit has been injured. There is no recovery into agency of completeness. Trying to be mindful of my feelings and eliminate them or outgrow them. It has been sixty years since physically abused and the recovery has yet to transpire. Then mentally abused from up-to my fathers’ dementia death. Wasn’t rough and tough in my nature, and he didn’t like my disposition. Like so many others he thought and feared I was gay. Was simply solemn of spirit. Haven’t been true to myself in action, either. Think I blame the way society taught me to think about myself. If I have knowledge of myself just hope the next life will be different, without peer pressure of successes and desires of material things. My friends had this and that, their lives were different and lost my true simplicity.
Really do not like life on earth, any part of it. There isn’t spiritual beyond religion, which is a shame. Over here in a south-eastern state I am alone in a small town coveted with idiots.