♀️🪼 21 Solstuary 2024 Day 10233

I am very interested in how we talk about stuff harm, where it figures in our politics.

I myself came from a tradition long demurred and foreswarn by the spiritual community of my birth, episcopalain congregation of very advance median age and fairly prosperous , local, liberal, politically conscious but factitiously non-partisan, devout adherents to ritual, desperate not to appear fanciful in their faith, teleologically progressive, passive benificients of the material arc of history, precarious in the face of illness and death. Intensley uncomfortable around the unhoused, intensely patronizing about mental illness,

I acted out the virtue-fetish self denial, self abjection, self judgement, from almost before I had encountered them in the prophets, essenes, apostles and martyrs. so much of God is a great daring counter hypothesis against the material observations that despite everything a tremendous fortune reversing authority existed and intended all space and time

to be in this world but not of it, against it, was to refuse temporal means and pleasures by "giving away everything you own to the poor" disregarding the complaints of the flesh, accustom oneself to pain and disregard even the promise of a life hereafter but instead to devout oneself utterly to the glory of God, even forswearing Heaven so that no selfish desire could be accused of becoming the real object of gravitation.

I began to cut myself in June of 2018, I apostated in November of that year. in those days I also drank heavily to pierce the numb rind around my soul. both cutting and drinking facilitate the catharsis of despair. in those days of greyed over senses pleasure has not only become impossible, it has become inconceivable, the faculties of imagination or simulation being not transcendent, in this case at least, from those of registration. there was a conspiracy in the water to breach the dam, a conspiracy in my blood to rend my flesh, rather than a positive desire for happiness, for pleasure. it was a compulsive sacramentization which was the only register capable of standing against the profane hollowness of my life, my will, my faith, my flesh.

what does one do with emptiness? one can fill it, with materials, with some positive object for which the space now exists, incidental thereto, or you wall it off, shun it, seal it, abandon it, in which case it fills up with ghosts, or you can sanctify it, make the hollow hallowed.

in reality, as we know from Derrida (and the special recursive tendency so famous for which are consciousness and drugs), no matter what you do with a space it will fill up with ghosts, has always already been full of ghosts, that can be the ghosts of the object, it's purpose, that the space serves, which may be angry or scared or sad or a helpful happy ghost or a quite self- and world-oblivious ghost.

or it may be traumatic ghost, that it the ghost which still feels the unhealed break, the critical failure of a paradigm (author of multiple selves, dissociative states formulates it) the unacknowledged devastating black ops mission-failure, for which not even a debrief is possible.

or sanctification too, fills up a space with ghosts, or to put another way makes explicit the presence of ghosts, and attempts to be for them a good host.

#self-harm #episcopalain #Christianity

#abjection #depression #emptiness #trauma #sacred_space #hauntology #ghosts