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Part 5 – Emotional Trauma Questions

In expressing my experience of the NXIVM “Saga” I come down, often if not always, to some core questions for and about women. And I would like help…will you help?

So, ladies and gents…here goes…

It seems like driving force behind the NXIVM narrative and subsequent actions and consequences for anyone who expressed anything from a general questioning of the narrative all the way up to Keith who lied about the existence of DOS and who proclaims, outright his innocence in all legal charges, was emotional trauma. 

Is that what it was? 

It also seems that if anyone did or does oppose the “official” narrative they were and are met with the rationale of emotional trauma. 

Is that what happened(s)?

It also seems that there was and continues to be a system of authority, in this case the US Government and the media, who created the current narrative, imprisoned people and labeled the entire organization “Criminal” in response to this emotional trauma. 

Is this what happened?

One thing that I think is important before going much further as a man and this is addressed to all the guys involved (or not). Guys, where is our responsibility? How have we created this response by women? What have we done and why? We need to figure out how we’ve treated women so badly all our lives in order…

Stop.
No we don’t. Guys…No. We. Don’t.

When I was writing this, I was PTSD’d into basically putting down these questions about emotional trauma. Internally I had a voice saying to me, it’s you, it’s you, you need to look at how this is all about you and how you’ve acted so badly. I spoke to another man about this and he said the same thing…we were having a gentle and questioning experience of exploring some of the above questions, we were not feeling violent or angry towards women (or men), and all of sudden the male voice of “it’s your issue, you’re the bad one, you need to fix yourself before you can say anything, it’s all you, it’s YOUR RESPONSIBILITY” came out and tried to shut down our own thoughtful and genuine and real questions. What the hell…

So, guys (and ladies)…No, we don’t have to justify our genuine questions, we are allowed to have them. They might be painful to consider or difficult to answer or impossible to answer, or phrased wrong or even tinged with our own programming and faults but, we are allowed. We are allowed to ask, it’s ok to ask. Your questions are genuine, they are your truth, they are not irresponsible as they are almost always made to appear and as you make them appear.

I don’t even realize I’m doing this. I don’t even realize I’m taking responsibility in my heart for everything. Nothing escapes and it is always my fault. Ladies, are you aware that your man does this?  Do you know that your man’s habit and indoctrination to internalize his own irresponsiblity leads him to feel an often impossibly heavy weight against even knowing his truth let alone expressing it?

Ladies, expressing your truth is important to you, we all know this, we all accept this. Well is it important for men also? Women, I know that you know about this, you struggle for it and the world welcomes your struggle and struggles with you. But that’s the thing…you know about it and the world accepts it.

Men don’t even know that they have a truth that might be expressed. They’re not even aware that there is a struggle in this regard. To men, it’s our responsibility and our fault and if we have a genuine, innocent question or concern or observation (which is a big “IF), we, men, will often kill it before it reaches the light of day. This is obviously not good for men but it’s also not good for women.

So if there are any females out there that would like to take on some of the questions above I would really appreciate it. These are genuine questions for me, there are questions that are not meant to harm or hurt or demean. I think emotional trauma and the way it’s being used is causing great harm and I hope to find some folks willing to do the painful work of talking about it.

As always, thank you for reading and please share if you find this good and feel free to comment in a civil manner.

Click here to read earlier parts of my NXIVM story

A Terrible Mistake…

Have I made a terrible mistake?

It’s possible.

And so I write now to examine it. I write as Damon Brink. I write in acceptance of who I am and what I have done and I write to examine and hunt for both the truth and the good. It’s possible I will find neither and I write with that fore-knowledge.

One thing is certain. I am not as good and as noble as I think I am, as I pretend to be, as I wish others to be. I have my share of misery, deep and often as seductive as a whore. I complain inwardly, I suffer, I blame and I seek to make others responsible for my own pain. 

I use anger like a weapon and I wield it with a skill born of 50 years of training and indoctrination. I take advantage of my privilege, often without giving back. 

I hurt the ones that are closest to me, that I love the most, purely out of an unwillingness and incapacity to look at and change my own perception. I am selfish, indulgent, petty, violent and prideful.

It’s not looking good. 

So what, then, is the point?

The point is, simply, that I am a human being, like you are a human being. We are not different species. And on this day, the day, eleven years ago, that I became a father, I realized something that I have since put away and then hid away. I realized as I looked into the eyes of my son, as I felt his helpless body and heard his first cry, as I stood in awe of the strength of the woman who had born him out and the wisdom of the women who assisted her, as I played a helpless and most fortunate observer to the process of life, I realized how far our world had drifted from our own hearts and our own love. As I experienced the birth of my son, I realized that every father had, at one time, had the thought “how can violence exist” in the face of this.

How can such violence exist in the face of my newly born child?

I had the thought that fatherhood could help save world, if it only could be held onto. 

I saw a world, enflamed and protected by the love of the father. 

And I have failed.

I have failed to keep my truth burning. I have failed to lead with the flame of pure love. I have given up and given in to the world around me and to the world inside of me. 

I have failed.

What have I chosen instead of the flame? What have I chosen instead of the truth? What have I chosen instead of the good?  I have chosen culture. I have chosen society. I have chosen emotional blankness. I have chosen comfort. I have chosen popularity. I have chosen righteousness. I have chosen obligation. I have chosen fear. 

I have chosen to remain quite while all around me fools plan for impossibility. I have been a fool. 

But No More.

No. Fucking. More.

Which brings me to my second point. Fuck You. I’m coming for you. I’m coming for the cowards. I’m coming for the fools. I’m coming for the righteous, I’m coming for the rules. I’m coming now and bringing myself, who’s been so slow and long away, I’m coming now, invite me in, you’ve had so much to say. I’m coming for all you liars, cheats and bores…and guess what you mutha fuckers, I’m teaming with the whores!

So get your violence ready

Because that’s all that you have left

and really it’s all you’ve ever had

since early on 

you came bereft

And the beauty of it all

is that I don’t even have to come

there’s no escape for you

no matter what

you’ve laid the table

what’s done is done is done

But life cares not

how you feel

or how you can convince

life doesn’t care if 

people agree with you

or if there’s no dissent

Life doesn’t care

that you have the law

doesn’t care that you are right

doesn’t care if you are mighty

what you have coming

is the night

and what you have coming

is the blight

and what you have created

for your families

is only, purely, fright.

I used to speak with honour

I used to care a lot

but I don’t hang 

and I don’t agree

with the folks

who run that lot.

So if you are a coward,

which you surely are,

There’s no escape from me

and I can only hope you dare.

And as you read this

and run in fear

and start to stutter, shake and stare

just know that I am waiting

to hear what you will share

and know that what you’re sharing

is for everyone and all time

and feel the weight of all the eyes

and all the hearts and minds

as you write and say your 

petty words

all wrapped up behind false names

you’re shining dull

for all the world

and I’ll kill you with my rhymes.

I’m coming for you

you fearful thots

and useless idiots

your day is over

hope you enjoyed it

but I know

that you did not.

Ok. So there’s that. Yes, i failed and I have failed to be the father that saw true love and true peace and true brotherhood, but I’m getting back up and dusting myself off. Come at me bro!

Part 1.

Facing Hate

The world isn’t ready to have some conversations.
so…fine…
leave them behind
leave them in the dark
but then…
how do you not let
the dark
win?

What do you do
when faced with hate.
I feel embarrassed
as soon as I ask the question.

As if people haven’t been dealing with that for all time.
As if people haven’t shown the answer
As if people haven’t paid with their lives
As if I don’t know,
and therein lies my coward…
as if I don’t know…

Campbell says:
“The Labyrinth is fully known”

What do you do when faced with hate?
You hide
or
You stand and face it.

Courage

I think I’ve found my coward
he’s been there quite some time
avoiding all perception
wishing on passing time.

It’s strange to feel his strength
it’s strange that he’s so strong
I always thought that he was weak
I never knew that I was wrong.

But there he is, a superhero
taking up all the space
telling me how important he is
telling me to give up the race.

He tells such tales of pain to come
he has such dire warnings
he rings alarms and blares the klaxons
from night until the morning.

He’s been hiding behind his best friend
the one that I call pride
and the two make quite a pair
when you put them side by side.

Pride is more the devil
because he does the devil’s work
he keeps me blind, infects my mind
and plays a trick on my self worth.

But when the pride is busted
and the facade falls to the ground
and you are left stark naked
the coward comes around.

He reminds me of my youth
before I created pride
of a time I was so scared
I just wanted to run and hide.

I was a little boy
so bright and fresh for the day
and all I wanted in my life
was to play and play and play.

I didn’t want to save the world
I didn’t want to stand up tall
I didn’t want to do “the right thing”
or anything at all.

What I wanted was to run and yell
And jump and play and shout
what I wanted was to live in life
having fun without a doubt.

And, I suppose, that’s the best of childhood
to build a foundation out of joy
of living life without the worry
oh, to be a boy.

But that is not how life is.

That is not the way of our society
That is not the way of the adult
Worry is our joy
Punishment is our cult.

And the little boy believes this
he believes what he’s been told
he has nothing else to go against
what his parents say is gold.

And that little boy must face it
in a shocking and dreadful way
he must face the worry and the blame
and do what his parents say.

And when he does, and no one’s trained him.
the little boy, he is not strong,
He’s soft and understanding
when the first hit, it comes along.

And of course he is a coward
even if he strikes back
because fighting back is not the issue
it’s that he was attacked.

It’s that the worlds not safe
the world he thought he knew
he can’t make sense, he doesn’t see
beyond the pain, so new.

So the little boy, he pulls back
not fully, not for now
he’s staggered and now shaded
by the darkness that’s come down.

And more attacks will come
he doesn’t take them on the surface
his little heart gets battered
and he’s introduced to worthless.

And so the boy, without his knowledge
begins to build a wall
he thinks he can protect his heart
and thus begins the fall.

So up it goes, and that’s the pride
just trying to feel safe
the boy was young, decades to come
as he joined the human race.

The wall grew strong
and the coward stood behind it
coward was the boys young hurt
he might not ever find it.

Life’s not static, decisions made
the boys wall is now a fortress
when you turn away from your heart
you turn away from your purpose.

A boys pride knows this but the boy does not
and the pride becomes the purpose
and the world is made by many men
who teach this on the surface.

And the surface becomes the purpose
and the purpose becomes the fortress
and the boys are lost and the men are weak
and pride rules the day on purpose.

But there are times
when the heart does speak
and loud enough to be heard
even if it’s been walled up
even if it’s been ignored.

There are times because it must be
that the walls they start to crumble
or maybe they’re shot down completely
and the man begins to humble.

And when that happens, through the fog
and the rubble of the years
the man can see the coward
through the veil of his young tears.

And the man can see the truth
maybe the first since he’s a boy
the man can see the coward
is just pain that leads back to joy.

Nothing is as it seems
except the pain of being human
everything’s a dream
except the joy that is illumined

And when the walls come down
and the heart is on display
it’s clear the heart is starving
to be with the man today.

So if you one day have
a terrible attack
and walls begin to shatter
facades begin to crack
and you can feel the pain, again
of youth and innocence
and you begin to feel the pain, again
of the original violence
you might see the Coward is me,
my boyish heart, it all makes sense.

He’s a boy
who learned
that love was pain
and soul betrayal
not for evil or for bad
but because we are so frail
in love
we know nothing of it
and why should we
when we’ve been taught
that there is so much above it.

Oh my god, my boyish heart
it’s good to see you once again,
I’ll do better,
I know better,
I’ll be a better friend.

Pride has served it’s purpose
now it’s courage time,
maybe courage IS my heart
I think that I was blind.
But my heart it does not punish me
only welcomes me back home
it would sit forever
if I chose, again, to roam
and wear a patient smile
because it knows I’m not alone.



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