You know, based on the apology email, truly, one that might go down…in some fashion…as somehow intelligent, I wonder if they sent it or not, because it’s true. Why was a middle man necessary for an apology mail? Interesting, no? I got off the phone when they did call, since, honestly, if someone sent me an apology email…I would not have made the call. I would have written back…soon, too— are you okay? I don’t know what you’re talking about. And then, I would have taken a deep breath, alright, okay, good. I got this freaky message that seriously hit me in the gut… cool, just send your account information. I do not need too call this person. But who knows, that might have freaked them out too. It’s just, their manner of “not wanting a lawsuit” or something, you see, might be paranoia, caution, but it’s a bit strange if you haven’t done anything. I have to laugh over an apology email. I have to. Again, that’s all I have to say about the apology email. That, some scared person… resulted…the thing is, it’s interesting. I didn’t call back because of their tone…when they called…again, I was not expecting that. Like, oh no, I expected an email — uhhhh dunno what you’re talking about… and their tone, no. They didn’t act like it was…out of nowhere. Like I care if this person is on the phone, I royally freaked out. And then, the next morning or the following morning, this middle man called. Again, me? No offense, I am not going to these lengths for an apology email and some “friend” who is…upset, basically, or something happened. What the hell is this? Are you okay? Sure, I might call a friend, I guess, but not with that tone. And then, the middle man. So what? I did not call back? So? Who cares? This is me — Clive Davis my backbone. Is there a problem? You see, they didn’t write back. And what risk was there if they didn’t do anything? “Okay,” Maria, “don’t understand this email… but hope you’re alright… and let me know where to send the money…” That’s not what happened. The middle man called… not talking like — WTF? Why am I being called? Can you explain this to me? Like I give a SHIT about your money. No, I ain’t taking this money, because you’re not in danger!
So, that further scared me.
I’ll take a moment to describe the sensations I went through since they were excruciating. Truly, I could have died, maybe, and based on these sensations I didn’t know if I had been abused, though I started going through experiences before. So basically, I had these two money men, let’s call them, fighting in my guts. Every time I went to go EAT. I could not EAT. One of them insisted that I wanted the other, which was maddening, because it’s not true, only pain there. Wracking my BRAIN, LIKE I DO NOT WANT THIS!! I do not LIKE this person! Nothing about that situation was…appealing. So, in the hospital, two months later, I had to continue fighting this sensation away — like leave me alone. WTF is this? Truly! And then, I thought, Jesus, was I abused at 4? Because it was the SAME sensation!! Why would I want this? Truly speaking. Since it was sexual, even, in nature, and felt disgusting. Every time I ate. So, due to the physical nature of this experience, and some “don’t talk about it” crushing sensation as well, I thought, I guess this has something to do with my parents since I went through such an excruciating time in that part of my body. Okay? What will I learn? One day? That, one of them, indeed did send me this stupid message? At a young, emotional moment…? Not thinking…
Now, I can’t speak to if they did, and at this point, in a sense, WHO CARES? Do you want me to bring out a history book and recite some fucked up shit that happened to people? Nothing that new, dancing around, you see, about the concept in human history. I went through a death, people, basically, and, so? Bating my eyes at you.
But the apology email… came from the sensations I was feeling in my gut… so, is that some unconscious belief system/the past since what happened in my early childhood came into question… especially when I got into the hospital. Like, did I miss something here? Being forced to…do something I do not want to do? To go through these sensations. In my loins. You see, me? If I’m being honest, looking around at my friends, and those who “helped me,” look, the Russians would have called me not any of you to handle this situation. It’s really the truth.
And yes, that means something. The Russians, you understand, would have sent me. Not you. That’s first.
Okay, first, no shame, let’s spend some time there. Next, let’s go through this experience one step at a time, and it’s going to take a second to become clear… first, thumb, I’m asking if this person felt sensations down there…based on what I said. It’s my first question. Now, take some time, I’m going to say some things to you…like no shame, like this is hard to wrap the mind around, but you’re safe, reassurance reassurance reassurance, if you felt sensations down there, why not just start there. Truly. Just because — wow.
Anyway, I feel clearer and better, to be frank with you, like I am not afraid of “this person” whoever they may be. Their behavior, even my friend’s — still comes across as strange, why, because he didn’t even say hello how are you, for real, when I finally said, I do not know if those lies about my father are lies, anymore, since that took me three years and a lot of pain. I couldn’t EAT normally for, hmmm, another year and a half. Now, I don’t know how abuse works, or what this early childhood connection is, whatever, but it was a rather difficult experience. He gave me “the body keeps score,” which might indicate that I was… no? Abused…?
But then, this woman said, even if it was around me, I could have processed that as real, which it was, but that was… a statement that I want actual data on, not to say I don’t believe this person, but wow. Can I talk or read about other women who have processed this as real…because it was around them? I found that to be utterly amazing. In any case, I haven’t read that book yet, mostly because I’m preoccupied with other books, but I’m just talking about my experiences here. Nothing…wrong with that…nothing litigious…sitting here like…why…. do I have this sensation? You see? In my gut and heart. Is there a lawsuit inside of me…that I cannot be aware of…just due to how that went down? Strange.
The past aside, these “details,” an apology email maybe destined for the books, in some capacity, “so she sent an apology email,” and you see, to have a case, in this regard, one just needs to present a possibility, in fact, that there might be a case here, meaning, there’s reason to suspect that they did… I thought about that, like, oh, laughing, a lawyer might be able to frame their response to the apology email, doesn’t matter, as suspect. Maybe track this email… because why was a middleman necessary? I just sent it, got off the phone, and then, the middle man called. =
And who am I accusing? This is what I mean. Scratching my chin. Confused, totally, by this sensation.
I wrestled with that message, I really did. Partially due to the physical nature of this experience. I will reserve…some of the worst of it… I have no clue what to say about my past… my family…even. That was deep.
But it’s all about the apology email. That I know. And that strange comment… from our shrink in common… THEN, the guy comes back. Farts on the phone. You see? No talk about my strange behavior the first week of March, which makes no sense when my friends called, as if it didn’t happen… when that information could have helped my friends place…where this might have began. So WHY? Fascinating.
Like, I went, did Dr. J punch me? Is a repression expert going to say, ohhhh, yes, just sit down, I’ll walk you through this one… but I intend…to speak with one… I know who he is… about repression and sexual trauma. I’m going in that direction…
That aside, again the past, I just feel calmer internally — not the same — I am not the same person. Does everything have a connection to the past? With a story like that, it’s already so strange, that I suppose it’s another question.
Between my “actor/manager” and some of the people I used to speak with, that was quite a ride, and though some of the — you create your own reality talk is true, I might not take that approach with everybody, at first. Since I am “Carl Jung.” Since this person called my experience “The Red Book.” It’s just, up against hard evidence, “why are you saying that? Based on what?” Nothing. My feeling. I like law, for that reason. I suppose her “childhood stories,” but uh, “did the Red Book taint the reputation of Carl Jung,” he said. Well, I mean, it’s considered bizarre. Truly. What he did. It’s one of the most important documents in history, so, regardless of what that was, that’s basically what I have. The potential to produce one of the greatest documents ever seen in the field of psychology.
That’s funny.
I don’t have to have overwhelming evidence, in a sense, to have a case, only enough to produce a doubt, that it could have been them, and based on their reaction, in fact, when I was clearly terrified, that might present a question. More for speculation and learning…because, if this person were to APPEAR, that would mean, WHAT? And seriously, what? Kill me? Over this? Since I have to expel these feelings… and why? I really had to unwrap my mind. So, if this is related to my parents, who cares? If Dr. J were to ever show up, she might end up running… as I make up some clown response — I assure you — did you help HIM mistreat me? You insane person. this is what I mean. Can’t place all that. Since the body “keep score.”
But that situation ended up stimulating that side of my brain. That, in a court of law, like, I am not obsessed with lawsuits, and where is this coming from? I’m sorry. I understand the exercise of that. But if they did, they should confess… big deal. I’m Dr. J’s daughter, man. But I can speak, about my experiences, that’s it. I’m coming back to the United States. And I would never go near any one of these people again. More or less. Like, cool, keep my father’s two drawings. Toss them. Like I care.
It’s interesting how the truth settles, in some capacity, but then, I don’t know what that means, since I’m really not accusing anyone, I am just processing through what actually happened since I will continue to, I will continue to get myself resources. That’s only natural. And again, who cares… if I talk to no one on my blog? Fingers pinched together, in the Italian way. That was a real end. Again, if they did, they should confess, and if I’m clean and quip over “danger” like my life is in danger, that makes no sense. This is what I mean. Am I going to discover… that…yuck…that something was going on in my house… this sort of blows my mind. Because that was “a lie” because some lady who had no idea what was going on…decided that it was…because the situation got that out of control. And like, her escort, even, in my mind, at least, doesn’t give a crap about some girl writing about her experiences on some blog. Does this concern me? It’s all about the escort, I know that too, so I have some character that I know I will get to one day… a man who does not need… a paper to get in…he’s getting in…and he’s not against. Aikido. I’m laughing.
So, anyway, I’m feeling better…about this whole ordeal.
-
My book is coming along, again, life goes on, regardless, and to send out excerpts, I’m going through old drafts, and I’m finding myself at two versions… where the ride with “Death” included actually works if you like Clarice Lispector. There’s something to it, I can’t explain it. And who cares about what really happened? What I really talked about back then? I woke up this morning, with that. Who cares? I guess Bukowski too, I’m just putting it together right now… and feeling that these sections resonate. I don’t know what to say about “Death,” it’s more the drive of that one…
I’m keeping Tropper in mind as I’m still building the thing. Originally, I’m going back to Naples to figure out the story to some extent…confused as to what even happened, where I ended up. My cousins…agreed. They, too, were confused. What happened to you? I didn’t exactly know. Insert…Barbara Harris. To play this role, no? I’ll continue figuring it out. But Clarice Lispector feels very present with me right now. I just think she’s spellbinding. Her lines are… unforgettable. Her super present vibe, her interest in the architecture, in a sense, she’s inventing a character through her body, it feels like she’s acting, even… I even thought, oh, maybe I could…do this? As some kind of classical piece — really? It feels sort of like that at times… wouldn’t “the classics” go, “wow,” idea-wise. So I’m thinking about all that. Don’t know, I would have to try, but it’s really compelling material.
She’s really funny too.
So I’m sitting with Tropper, funny, and Clarice Lispector, what? Someone might read that, you know? What does that even mean? I don’t know yet, but I sent this opener — so forget it — to be published somewhere — so I can’t post it, but I think there’s something to it… so I have a couple of weeks before I have to go back to work, and it already feels like it’s been two months.
The energy workshop, thanks. The manifestation workshop, too. I did these two. I’m doing them side by side, and I suppose I needed a strong dose of belief. And this supplement I’m taking has stopped my teeth grinding… so that’s quite relieving. I also got Ricky Lake’s shampoo, lol, since uh, that experience seriously affected me. I cannot even think about my parents, cannot even think. Outside of my draft. And the producer…in Turkey… who doesn’t know any of this…I’m keeping my fingers crossed so I can work on Once Upon a Time on Miracle Mile, cracking up at a VoiceOver at the end that just repeats the title… nostalgia.
I feel good about reaching my goal… I read Black Water because of what she does, circling back to the car accident, though I haven’t finished it yet, so a beginning idea I had might fact work, I just don’t know how to do it yet.
But I’m understanding the exercise, if that makes sense, of presenting a book to an agent. It’s sort of like this and that and that… so I have an agent in mind… I might not have a platform, but I do have an idea as to what to do… since I come from “one of those” stories, yes, “one of those.” So I thought, that, at least, works to my advantage. I have some savings to invest in some PR, if necessary, since I heard that, too, that’s a missing link, in some capacity.
So, good, all good. I’m just trying to send pieces out every day. Keep sending them out. I don’t know if Tropper published an excerpt before he published his book, but I’m trying to do everything I can…so I’m off to get started, and if these people did send that message, whoa, scary. But something settled, regardless, in presenting what the hell happened around an apology email…if they did, they should confess, obviously. But something settled. Maybe they did, I don’t know, but their response to an apology email… was bizarre. No need for a middleman. Being confused, freaked out, isn’t that crazy. Someone “acting” normal about the whole thing…is. And I cannot accept the money from them, so we agree that there was danger involved? Please accept the money for me, “sure,” why? “There’s no DANGER HERE.” Was that hard to say…in these circumstances?
So, I’m sitting here, feeling a little better and settled, which has taken about 3 years. Oh, hahaha, almost exactly to the date. Right, Mother’s Day. I’ll talk to energy workers, eventually, also, about what manipulation is. Since I can feel that. So, that’s it, got work to do.
I’m off…