I was a young boy when my mother committed suicide. It was the emotional equivalent of a nuclear bomb.
I have so many unanswered questions. How could she not hold me one more time and tell me goodbye? Why couldn’t she give me one last chance to look into her eyes…and say goodbye? Why was her love for me not strong enough to defeat her demons? Was there more I could have done, signs I should have noticed? Did she really mean to take her own life? Was it only meant to be a cry for help that went terribly wrong?
I’m older now…older than she lived to be. While I will never understand, I’m better able to appreciate the mental hell my mother must have been going through and the pain she surely experienced on a daily basis. It is impossible to rationally grasp the irrational. Even now as I type this, my eyes are filled with tears. The pain isn’t as raw these days, but when I come back to this space it still burns like hell. Her death breaks my heart. It was so fucking final…for her. I have my entire life to think about it.
I have two letters from my mother. One is a birthday card. I didn’t know this card existed until it fell out of my grandmother’s bible while I was unpacking during my last move. I must have read it a hundred times in a row. It literally brought me to my knees. The other letter is her suicide note. I’ve read it once. I’m scared to read it again. I wish I had been more organized as a child and saved more of her memories. I save all love letters, cards, and special correspondence now. You’ll see plenty examples of this in my stories. Even through my blog, which has been deleted (by WordPress) several times, I have been diligent about saving and importing comments. So many of them are like special gifts that touch my soul.
Famed psychologist, Carl Jung, would likely label my mother’s passing as my “shadow”. Experiences like this have significant impact on our adult life but aren’t often visible to others or even to ourselves. We often fear our shadow. We repress it and bury it so deep inside that we almost forget it is there. But, the shadow is there…working on us, shaping our view of the world and our behaviors. Our shadow is our dark side, but this isn’t the same as saying our shadow is evil.
There is the potential to develop a phobia around the cause(s) of our shadow. This leads us to avoid, suppress, fear, and run from our darkness. On the other side of the scale, we may face our shadow in a way that is counter-phobic. Instead of fear and/or avoidance, we confront the darkness of our deepest fear over and over and over. Phobia and counter-phobia are both extremes.
Riding along with our shadow, we have our persona. Our persona is what others see when they look at us. It is our light and the collection of masks we wear when interacting in the outer world. A person can be shadow dominated or persona dominated. It is through the journey of personal discovery and the merging of our shadow and persona that we progress towards wholeness of being. If we succeed in this journey, we approach the archetype of our greatest individual potential—Self.
Children are resilient and life today is really, really good. I smile a lot and it comes from a genuine space. I am happy. I have fun and wake up excited about the day ahead. I am as motivated as ever before and my dreams are greater than my memories. Still, I am a thinker personality and there is so much I want to know. In fact, an overarching theme for my blog is the quest for deeper meaning and understanding – some of this quest flows towards sexual fantasies but other aspects are a bitter deeper. Understanding my shadow and how it has and continues to influence my relationships with women and sexual fantasies is an important part of my writing and artistic journey.
I have made some breakthroughs over the years but questions linger. Have I balanced the scales of Libra between my own phobias and counter-phobic desires? Will there ever be enough “wine, women, and song” in this world to fill the void my mother left behind? Have I wanted to fuck every woman in the world or make love to every woman? Has my need to be “loved” or adored been some form of unrelenting quest for validation…proof that I should have been worth living for? Why have I been so blessed to have made such beautiful, deep connections with women? Did my mother’s death make me super attentive to what women around me are feeling? Did it fill me with the desire to uncover the often unspoken or repressed desires of women? Why do I have such vivid imagery around light and darkness and the threshold in between the two. Why does love die?
In addition to the ample offering of erotic stories and images, I will explore a couple additional subjects that may at first pass appear unrelated, but they are essential threads interwoven within the tapestry of my blog. My fascination with women in general and especially the female mind permeate my blog.
I also enjoy psychology and use both ancient and modern-day mythology (comics) to make it a bit more entertaining for me (and hopefully you). Using characters and mythology provides a common reference most of us can relate too. I view superheroes as modern-day visions of ancient human dreams – archetypes. They are timeless dreams reimagined for the modern world. Batman in particular lingers in my thoughts as more than a childhood fascination. Is there a lesson to be learned in exploring the psychology of Batman? I’ll give it a shot.
Long before I became aware of the constructs of persona and shadow, I recognized that I was drawn to the contrast of light and darkness and the magical interplay of colors in the transition…in the threshold between these two realms. I have often looked at the scales of Libra with more than a passing glance. As an adult, the archetypal energy of the ancient Greek god known as Dionysus calls to me. Is there knowledge to be gleamed from the ancient dreams of humanity that gave rise to gods of the old world? We’ll see.
Batman and/or Dionysus. Is one a projection of my shadow and the other a projection of my persona? Perhaps one is a vessel for exploring the other? Maybe they are the same archetypal dream from different periods. After all, archetypes don’t die. They only morph and reappear to fit their time. Each Halloween my decision to dress as Batman is much more than a whimsical choice, and my utility belt is always packed. After all, if you’re going to work in the shadows, you’re going to need the proper tools.
Welcome to my journey for deeper meaning.