Marcos Sr Quotes

was sick of people in the program quoting the principles of the Big Book. I wanted to scream when I heard, “But for the grace of God.” What fucking grace had God given me? And don’t get me started on the gratitude list. I had no gratitude. The distress and loneliness made me again consider ending my life. I thought the program was a trick to psychologically prevent me from slicing my wrists. Quotations like “Easy does it,” “This shall too pass,” “Thanks for sharing,” “Keep coming back,” did nothing for me but induce intestinal illness. Holding hands and watching people go out of their way to do anything and everything for me made me extremely uncomfortable. I loathed the closeness and companionship of the people who were working hard for my benefit. The disgrace of not having my own form of transportation, career, dignity, and independence made me resent everything this horrible existence had to offer. I held these feelings inside and operated like a robot going through the motions of living. I contemplated how to extinguish my mental anguish. Death is what first came to mind. I'd fantasize driving at a hundred miles an hour into a tree, taking a full bottle of Valium or Trazadone, or, better yet, taking a full bottle of both drugs and then doing it. But something inside woke me up, convincing me there was a certain merit, some reason worth living for on this miserable planet. From there, my determination and drive to attain dignity and independence kicked in. I wanted to believe there truly was a good person inside. I wanted to find him. Insidious images of relaxation flashed through my mind like bright pictures. It was as though all my tension was being released after inhaling a fat line of cocaine while watching porn. The excitement of reliving the act seemed so real that my heart palpitated erratically. I'd get furious with myself for even thinking about going back to that sinister part of my life. When I returned to the Oxford House after the retreat, I was introduced to a local priest who was in the fellowship for treatment. When I first found out he was a priest, I couldn’t stand the sight of him. It disgusted me that people gave him respect because he was a man of the cloth. The fellow addicts thought it was cool they had one of God’s errant angels among them confessing his sins of addictions. Little

Little did anyone know what addictions and sins I was subjected to as a child from a similar ‘fallen angel’. I couldn’t bear sharing what had happened to me at the group AA meetings—too humiliating. I only shared the secret with a select few and requested it be kept confidential. More than the special attention the priest received, I was overwhelmed with the eerie resemblance he had to my abuser. His pale freckled skin and strawberry-blond hair made me uncomfortable in his presence. I could feel my abuser’s satanic touch when in the same room as that man. But I was in a mechanical state, staying the course, hoping something miraculous would pull me out of my miring in the past. This perseverance contributed to being the turning point of my recovery, that being when I told him what had happened. “What’s the name of this priest, Marco?” Father Todd said. I told him. To which he replied, “He was arrested for molesting another boy, and he did some prison time.” “I did hear about that, Father,” I said. “You should go to the diocese. They’ll appoint a therapist to you. I’ll give you the contact names,” he said, pulling out a pad of paper with all the information I'd need.

My insensitive counselors of the past constantly watched the clock. Their egg timers seemed to ring up more interest in dollar signs than in helping me. Something was special with this one. I felt he believed in his profession and what it stood for. There was an energy there that I couldn’t explain at the time. I entered into therapy with this man named Keith,

Keith came from behind his desk and put his arm around my shoulder. "Calm down, Marco,” he said, leading me to the more comfortable love seat. “There's an un-blending process happening here. The various defender parts have a positive intention in defending against the pain from the abuse. It just happens to be in an incorrect manner.” Keith returned to his seat and leaned back in his chair. He took a deep breath. “When you're concentrating on one particular personality trait, the other parts work in conjunction, in different combinations with each other. They try to prevent you from getting to the core of the respective trait and having to relive the pain and shame from the abuse.” He leaned forward, punctuating his words. “The key ... to un-blending ... the defender parts ... successfully ... is to understand each attribute ... as it steps in to do its job. They protect you from the harmful emotions that are associated from the abuse.” Gazing at me over his wire-rimmed glasses, he said matter-of-factly, “Getting the defender parts to step aside so you can concentrate on the characteristic you want to address is the un-blending process. Once you are able to get through all the various defensive parts that get in the way of dealing with the core part, the true self is now able to answer the part in question in a divine loving place." I sat, pulled on my ear while thinking that over for a moment. "So, the true self is present to bear witness to all the feelings, beliefs, memories, and experiences of the inadequate part." Keith smiled. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desktop, his chin perched atop his clasped hands. "In essence, the past is being stirred up so all the associated burdens, pressures, and pain can be released and relieved. Following this unburdening process, the respective part can be cleansed. It can then be recomposed in a more constructive manner—similar to wiping a virus-infected computer hard drive clean ... then reprogramming it with anti-virus protected software." I stood up. With a few deep diaphragmatic breaths, I cleared my mind. While attempting to decipher what part came in and threw me off course, I sucked in my lips, vigorously shaking my head. Skepticism came in as a defensive part. I got back in Keith’s face. “This psychological un-blending is full of shit. The defense against the abuse is another trick to get me to believe that this crap actually works.” I flung my hands in the air. “How is this going to unburden the weight I carry on my shoulders every moment of the day? All my deficient personality traits are a result of me being a dirtball loser.” I shook my head. “I’m not worthy of the slightest bit of solace or happiness that this punishment called life has to offer.” Keith took a deep breath in and a longer breath out. "Marco, you're a miracle. A remarkable good-hearted human being. You're the most determined individual that I've come across in my thirty years of practice.

I’d wake up feeling good, but this part would overpower me with negative thoughts, certain that trouble lay in wait. It was as though none of the good things I did existed or mattered; it was all about the one wrong thing I did. In my next therapy session, as I walked up the stairs to Keith’s office, I organized my thoughts. When I settled into the love seat, I explained what I thought was a new part I discovered, and detailed the characteristics. Upon further discussion, Keith said, “The part you’re actually describing is the shameful feelings that were conceived from the abuse and the ensuing conditioned reprehensible actions that followed. It was the feeling of shame that brought on the anxiety and all its feelings of guilt.” Following my understanding and ability to distinguish the shame versus the anxiety and the shameful part’s origin and roots, I went back to identifying its physical symptoms. “I get overtaken with restlessness and remorse. It paralyzes me with fear. There's tightness in my chest. My breathing becomes heavy, sometimes to the point of hyperventilating. When I get a feeling of unrest I’ll pace, fidget my leg up and down, sometimes my face will twitch.” As

From the true self, I asked the shameful part what it wanted. I jumped up, pacing as I explained myself. “I relate the shameful part to being like a child who had done something wrong—sent to his room— waiting for his father to come home and punish him.” I stopped in front of Keith’s desk, bending toward him. “It’s frustrating.” I rested both hands on the desktop, shaking my head. “I can’t latch onto one good deed or intention to convince myself that there is decency within.” At this point, I became physically exhausted. I plopped into the love seat and spread my arms across the back of the chair. Keith made a minor adjustment to his spectacles with a forefinger pushing its bridge, then let the finger make its way down his nose as he thought, looking down. He looked up, fixed his eyes directly on me. "The anxiety part jumped in to prevent you from having to relive and experience the pain that the shameful part was carrying." "And,” I said, leaning forward, “if I connect with the anxiety and ask it from the true self what it wants, the answer is rest, peace of mind for body and soul.” Keith slowly nodded his head as I continued. “It wants to live without stressing over everything and anything in an attempt to achieve perfection. The anxiety put me in a survival mode, pumping me up with adrenalin, putting me on guard, alerting me that there was danger ahead. I understand how the anxiety feels. It doesn’t have to worry anymore. There is no more danger ahead. The true self is now running things. We are now going to be able to take a deep breath, relax, and be at peace with ourselves. I’m so thankful that I now won’t be burdened with the nonstop torturous uproar of emotions.

Marco, remember early on when we discussed your frustration, and you determined that it was the defender part that wanted you to get back into the game of life? And that your anxiety was your fear-based defender part that was alerting you of the impending doom if you slipped and went back to your inappropriate behaviors? Or how about when the depression part stepped in, and you resolved that it was a reminder of your past actions? These are the physical symptoms of the defender parts.” I felt that if a light bulb was hanging over my head, it had now lit up. I was impressed with Keith’s memory of what I had said and the affection in his tone. At this moment, I trusted my therapist implicitly— he was the real deal. “Marco, identifying the defender part’s physical symptoms first is key to acknowledging when that part is coming in to control a situation or thought and identifying which one it is. Catching the defender part at this point is crucial to prevent it from starting to control the situation in an unhealthy manner or overwhelming your emotions with negative judgments.

I was now able to logically decipher my behavior and analyze my actions. I understood all the conditioning that the exploitation and disgrace had in creating the different personality parts and behavioral traits that dwelt in my depths. I started to understand how criticism and insults painfully intensified my ignominious impression of myself, causing me to take everything personally. The numb, confused, and skeptic defender parts now made sense to me. I could see how they contributed to the various problems I incurred throughout my life. I comprehended why I mistrusted and did pernicious things to loved ones—for fear they would do them to me first. The need to self-medicate made sense. I began to recognize the urge for porn. The need to commit acts of perversion was a result of my adolescent mind being manipulated and programmed to believe it was acceptable. I perceived that the reason why I wanted to be humiliated sexually was because the shameful part from the humiliation of the maltreatment wanted to be reinforced. The logic of it all—how all the parts fit together, their roles and reasons for being—became apparent to me. I opened my eyes for a brief moment. Keith was leaning forward with his right elbow resting on his leg, his hand supporting his chin, staring at me as if he was trying to analyze my thoughts. I gazed off in a distance, remembering my numerous misbehaviors. I could trace the main contributing factor for why I acted the way I did to the resulting ignominy from the desecration. But the most significant understanding I had was, that even though it wasn’t my fault, I was still responsible for my behavior. My lengthy musings came to a halt when Keith said, “Marco? Where are you now ... tell me what you’re seeing, thinking.” I proceeded to explain to him my current revelation. “Excellent work, Marco,” Keith said, cracking a smile. “Now think about your next step.” My next step was to cleanse and reprogram the inadequate part. I closed my eyes again and began to concentrate. The only way to accomplish this was to create a tangible picture in my mind of the inadequate part being exorcised of all its imperfect characteristics. Once I was able to concentrate on this step, I looked up into his gaze. “I see myself overlooking a canyon during a sunset. As the sun descends, I envision its rays reflecting off the sparse layers of cloud cover, creating a beautiful multi-layer spectrum of blazing colors. I imagine a cool breeze flowing across my body, as a warm illuminating light from above shines on me and creates a white-out effect that is the cleanest, brightest white I can imagine. I picture the whiteness as a soothing cleansing treatment for the blackness within. I’m feeling as pure and clean as the brilliant color itself.” "And now how do you want to orchestrate the inadequate part?" I stood up and puffed out my chest. "I want it to be the exact opposite—confident, strong, and stable. It should be at peace with itself and not paranoid about what other people think.” Sitting back down, I folded my hands over my crossed knees. “I don't want to feel as if I have to worry about working to exhaustion in my personal life. On the job, or in the gym, I shouldn’t feel I have to be perfect in order to be accepted in society. I want to move past that. I want to feel good and proud of myself. But most of all, I want to feel morally acceptable." I now had a better understanding of the inadequate part, its defender parts, and what they wanted. I was able to see the un-blending taking place within me. The unburdening and bearing witness process got me to the point of reprogramming the misconception that the inadequate part thought about itself. I could go straight to the visualization technique of cleansing and reprogramming the part whenever I felt its symptoms coming on. CHAPTER

About three quarters through the program, the head counselor invited me to share my thoughts on the matter. I walked to the front of the group. “I need an open communication connection between us,” I said, as if I were my son. “I would be open, honest, and express my feelings without any concern for judgmental perspectives. There would be complete confidence that I was loved for being me. I’d feel free to discuss my issues, often asking questions, searching for advice and guidance to learn from my father’s past experiences. My family would be loved and appreciated by all of its members. The household rules and contents would be respected. I would strive for success, giving it my best effort to improve on my education and work toward an enjoyable career. Goals would be set to stay motivated, reassessing the long-term goals when the shorter goals are met. My main goal would be to work on a healthy state of mind and body by staying active, striving to do healthy and pleasant activities, without the need of getting high to enjoy them.” When I finished, the head counselor asked Julian for a response. I was proud of his courage to express his opinion and draw attention to himself in front of the group. The boy I knew a few weeks before wouldn’t have been able to stammer through a poorly structured sentence, let alone present his thought processes in an organized manner. Julian began by saying, “I’d be more understanding of my son’s feelings, patient and supportive in whatever he wanted out of life. If he was in trouble, I’d do whatever I could to help him, but be more strict and tough so he wouldn’t get into trouble in the first place. If the rules were broken, there’d be a fair punishment. I would love my son no matter what.” As

It’s exhausting,” I said. “I have to battle this part along with the sense of frustration and hopelessness it creates. It’s so tough and strong that it seems undefeatable.” “What does the overburdened restless part want?” “It wants someone to bring it under control to rest and have peace. It’s like a hyperactive fidgety child, pacing back and forth, crying for someone to make it stop.” I was having trouble connecting my inner true self to the stressed part because of the intense energy it was creating. Keith guided me by helping me communicate with the stressed part. I needed to make it understand that by stepping aside it would allow the healing process of unburdening the emotional component that was holding in the shame. Without the burden of the disgrace, the anxious, stressed-out, perfectionist, striver part would not have to work so hard to compensate for its self-perceived shortcomings. Furthermore, relieving the humiliating burdens would bring rest, tranquility, and peace. The intense energy could then be orchestrated in better ways. At this point, we ended our session. I left his office once again annoyed and uncertain, wondering if I was ever going to be able to live a normal peaceful life. As I meditated on the session during the week, I understood what my therapist was explaining. I visualized fast-forwarding directly to the ultimate goal of un-blending the various multiple defender traits from the abuse. Getting to the root of the therapy and healing process of dealing with the disgraceful iniquity was my goal. I had trouble believing whether or not my logic in understanding the process was correct. It seemed too simplistic to me at first. I envisioned confessing all my scandalous deeds and desires for the world to know. I imagined no more secrets or lies and eliminating the need to masquerade with a phony façade to hide the atrocious creature I thought I was. Instantly, I was buoyant as helium. The crushing weight from the wicked acts was lifted from my shoulders. The mortifying and disgusting impressions I had were no longer there. I was able to get a brief glimpse of the divine true self. For a moment, I physically felt what life could be like while at peace with myself. Happiness and comfort engulfed me at the possibility of living a life free of judgment, low selfesteem, anxiety and paranoia. While in this good frame of mind, I became aware of all the goodness inside of me and the decent things I was doing in life. My human flaws appeared to be minor bumps in the road rather than being amplified into major roadblocks. I began to see how I pulled myself out of mental illness, addiction, and sexual perversion. I became conscious that I survived sexual abuse at an early age and persevered by holding it together. I was imbued with a sense of accomplishment. I now comprehended and conquered the difficult therapeutic work of dealing with the harmful emotions associated with bringing the misconduct to the surface.

one of the top five spots selected as most inspiring by the SNAP community in their writing contest. I was elated that people who were familiar with sexual abuse and also victimized by representatives of the Church voted for my story. My own peers read my words, understanding the pain and struggle to fight the mental anguish of such heinous, horrifically hypocritical abuse. They knew about the hell we have to live with every breathing moment of our lives. My equals acknowledged the fight we have to overcome to rectify the damage caused from the sins of the abused. It was a great moment for me, and it was another turning point in changing my thought process from dark to light. I realized an amazing correlation between myself and the success of the organizations I had been involved with, envisioning myself as a link in the chain. This chainlink concept came to fruition when I tried to search for some additional positive affirmations to lift me out of my depressing period. I

With a simple smile from her angelic face, she put to rest the beast that paced within me. Her caressing strokes on the back of my neck radiated an intense energy of love that eased the raciness of my compulsions. The comfort that she provided me, from her mere presence, was as sedating as any narcotic I had ever consumed. I

Every morning, I made it a point to think and concentrate on positive affirmations from the moment I opened my eyes. I’d start my day as soon as I gained consciousness by saying out loud, “It’s going to be a great day! Great things are going to happen today!” I repeated my positive affirmations diurnally. I am strong, stable, successful and confident, yet humble, peaceful, patient, and well mannered. I am loving, kind, caring, compassionate, generous, and gracious. I am mentally, physically, and spiritually healthy. I have a stable, structured family with an abundance of happy and healthy children, family members, and friends. I would finish with affirming that I have a plenitude of financial security and peace. I then meditated on all these things being true. I

From the shameful part, I meditated on receiving and getting connected with the true self’s assurance and understanding. I was able to direct my true self to ask this trait if it needed anything else and how it wanted to release the degradation it held in. It wanted the disgraceful memories erased, as well as removing the chill and sickness in its gut when they flashed instinctively and uncontrollably in its mind. It sought to have all the unmanageable sexual images of its imagination controlled and reprogrammed with normal thoughts. It wanted to feel like it was not a consenting party to the abnormal sexual perversions that were forced upon a young child. The shameful part within me wanted reassurance that the creature I thought I had become was the result of a young mind being molded from wickedness thrust upon it during peak developmental years. It wanted to stop having to always look over its shoulder thinking it had done something wrong. It wanted to wake up in the morning at peace, not immediately expecting the worst. The shame within wanted to stop feeling like bad things were going to happen in life because it was not a good person. It wanted to feel it deserved to be happy and worthy of receiving the good things of this life. After relinquishing all the burdens of the shameful part and communicating what it wanted from the true self, I continued meditating on the connection of the true self’s understanding and the shameful part’s acceptance of that understanding. I visualized unburdening the shame like the outer tarnished skin being removed from a banana, envisioning the negative self-perceptions of myself peeling away and exposing the true clean, white, sweet goodness within. CHAPTER