ZP's and a custom. About subs and denial

Journals - Custom Subliminals
#1

Let’s start with the fact that I cannot trust my mind, I’m tempted to say I’m not normal, but then you got this collective voice of there is no normal, nobody is… though some people seem to lead a life that is closer to the blueprint of normal’s definition.

I cannot trust my mind because it has ill elements to it, I come from far, far away from manageable thoughts, I’m closer to something manageable, doesn’t make me “healthy” for that, but it’s manageable, I had a lot of dragon’s to slay, Hell, I couldn’t even get up before midday when I was young.

My thoughts are deviated and I do know that I suffer from some form of paranoia… Now I started subliminals a long time ago, and I must admit it helped a lot, a while ago I did decide to go to a shrink, I did that before in my life and it helped, somehow, with some things.

I was a drug addict for something like 18 years, I was frennetically destroying myself… I never knew the reason, lately I had a dream and then memories that gave me some insight, I will come back to it later. What I kind of recognize in my life is some pattern not far from those end flips the movie upside down which began with Usual suspects concerning cinematic art.

The keyword in the story is denial and how denial can influence your interpretation of reality and things happening around you. When you where saved from addiction you kind of get a message that you can live your day to day life while looking at yourself in a skewed mirror.

You are totally unaware at the mayhem you create of your life for the simple reason that it’s too painful, you are going so deep into the void of what you could be, driven by delusional goals and impression of the world around you that are completely false. You get saved from where you had to die, but the most difficult thing to accept is that after ten years and a bit of being clean and going to groups you’re still filled with delusions. Then you find subliminals, and because you still have a “we want the world and we want it now” quick fix mind you kind of get lost. Most of the people with an addictive mind start pushing, they are actually trying to get results faster, we live in the illusion of a shortcut, and if you’re in that model of the world, you’re mostly in denial of most of the reality that’s around you, you embellish it. A lot of us are in this kind of mindF**** cage where we are convinced we can get all the girls we want when at the same time there’s a wall that is being built between our goals our illusion and what is really happening to us.

I’m talking about myself while having the hunch that I’m not alone in it. Why, because it’s human, we all want that pill that will switch our whole world around in a minute. Some have been succesfull at some things, some haven’t. Some are able to aknowledge their successes, even if they’re small, some others wouldn’t see them if the whole world would come and tell them…

We want the green grass of the neighbour, most of the time forgetting our lawn, chasing after the neighbours image we have of their lawn and forget to mow our own.

Now I have the past of an active addiction, which in a way means that whatever I do, my mind is somehow built this way. The fact that I am aware of it helps, it’s not a solution, it doesn’t dissolve, I always have to be on my guard of myself, I always have to keep my boundaries in check.

Something I always hated, but that is pursuing me my whole life is the diminition of my first name. You know, when people make your name cute. I was dealing with it in therapy 20 years ago, I am still dealing with it and I hate it. Some will say I shouldn’t over analyse it, some people do it because they just like it… maybe… how I see it, it’s connected to my inner naivity and the fact that I have something very childish in me that is refuseing to grow, and I hate it still. Most of us want to be real men, some of us are, some of us are not… yes , subliminals will help, and it may help me to uncover things in my past that are pulling me back again and again like pulled by a thousand strings. I wish it was different…

When I was young I was fed with the idea from my surrounding that i was very talented and that I certainly will succeed in some form of art… I had shots at it and for some reason I cannot explain yet it was always castrated… I don’t think I can find a better word for it. Would it be the hairdresser that promised me an exhibition in a shopwindow project for artists, where I obsessively worked on a project to a meeting with the nephew of the ‘Pope of european modern art’ who would show my works to his uncle which never happened.

It happened again and again, and there where some exhibitions in bars and people’s places, and small stuff, and other promises not kept…

It may be unrelated, but it may not be. A drug addict when he just brought another episode of his life to ruins will think that by moving to another country it will help him stop using. He stops, for a while, and then in some blackout life experience, he falls again. I can’t even remember what happened, the ball just started rolling untill the machine was in full power of autodestruct.

It happens a lot. What I understood of it is that in most cases the addicts incapacity of dealing with life gets him to be hurt by the arrows life throws at him but that his mind is in such a denial mode that he tells himself everythings ok. He moved countries tried to build up again for him to see it all crumble again in front of his blind eyes… once his eyes are full of blood or tears, he uses, and does it unaware.

My mind is now telling me about some people reading me and asking themselves, what does it have to do with subliminals? And I may be wrong, I’m wrong as lot of times, I kind of learned to live with it.

I’m talking about all those times I am walking around in the world with all those women looking at me and me not doing anything… I’m far from being a virgin or something, I had my successes, but the relationships where short lived, sometimes the girl ended it, most of the time I did for reasons I can only qualify as crazy.

Now with the subliminals i am walking around as if I’m a god on earth… but I let the occasions go by… I let the opportunities walk past me to wake up a month or two later and asking the girl out. She has moved on, it’s a normal phenomenon, she shows you interest, she shows you interest, you’re not making a move, she finds herself a reason to let go, and she thinks you’re not man enough.

In my subjectivity I make up it’s not fear but excuses and reasons not to. I’m well aware it’s bull but it’s a prison I seem to not escape.

I switch subs, I go to other vendors, some more woowoo than others, I fill myself up with all kind of stuff like a turkey on thanksgiving… I see myself as some kind of strange monster. I am aware of that… I am aware of doing it all wrong… and still. Awareness is a first step but you don’t cross the street with a first step.

I have toned it down since last week… QZP maybe…

I have limited my qv2 custom loops 2 months ago, but let’s be honest, I was still using many woowoos in the mean while. Since a week I put all of them on the side, since a month and a half I am in therapy…

I’m talking for myself, I am well aware that for more balanced people it is a great help, for people like me it’s a tool, and it is very potent. But as much as I have a steady job (much lower than my capacity) I don’t have steady life, I’m keeping parts together and they always seem to fall apart for no reason.

So yes, from what I read here, we have a lot of users that are in a lot of denial and fear of success… and it’s natural that it is this way. I think that for me going in therapy is a wise choice.

Another difficulty I’m dealing with in my life is that of opening a journal, or starting to write for that matter, writing 2 posts, seeing nobody reacts and abandoning it. Hopping to something else… I kind of know I will do that again, I am doing it over and over and over…

I am grateful of not being an active addict anymore, I am grateful of being able to wake up in the morning and getting to my work most of the time earlier than requested. I am grateful of the fact I am steady at this job. But I need to stick to the other things, the things my dreams are made of.

I am sending a prayer to myself to be steady in my journaling, to learn not to listen too much to my paranoia and mind parasites.

There’s a lot more I have to write down here… this is my first post of this journal.

I will slowly divulge the subs I’m using.

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#2

Days ago I journaled this .,

“I now talked to my partner in the phone about important business information , and on the past week I talked about smth deeply and intimately personal with a family member on the phone!! , This is not me who before fearing to speak about personal or business issues because of some paranoid thoughts”

Go on , wishing you success and beautiful life :sparkles: :muscle: looking forward to read your journey here :two_hearts:

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#3

You have aptly given yourself the name Creator. Yes we are the creators of our lives. By how much faster does life respond to our thoughts is something I haven’t figured out yet but Zero Point will surely assist you.

Kudos on repeatedly trying again and again. Almost every person has their own addictions that they are trying to overcome. And even though such habits are different, the strength to get up again and again is what is common among winners.

One day you will get there and look back. And see that it was all worth it.

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#4

Thank you, actually in a way, I think chosen is kind of lowering my paranoia… Very happy with that.

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#5

In hebrew they say, From your mouth to God. Amen.
Thank you for being very supportive to me on the forum. It may be more appreciated than what you think.
Your name is the angel of Paragon :wink:

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#6

I thought I would write today but I’m exhausted this evening.
The outlook is very positive though.
Qzp (in my mind it kind of sounds like Crazy pea for no reason) is very good to me (Chosen)

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#7

Much less paranoia… And some kind of no bullshit alphaness… More able to keep my ground.

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#8

How can the eyes be so blind and the mask so thick…

I know I’m very dramatic when I write, Like dark, very dark, like my grandmother used to call me, the handsome dark boy.

I know that if I don’t write in my journal today, and what I had to do is come home, ignore everything that could be like getting home from work, like making coffee or putting on a movie or calling someone… just get home, put my bag down, open the computer and write… otherwise, I would have escaped, anyway I can… from my thoughts.

So yes Chosen ZP gives me some kind of break from my paranoia and other difficult thoughts. It let’s me breathe, but somehow it, I call my inner voice it, because it tells me stuff and it is not him because it is as much me as him, it tells me regeneration since before the QZP getting out, I don’t listen at first, those familiar with Campbell’s hero’s myth, know that it is kind of an ingrained reaction in people, there is always the refusal of the path… at first, then there is the trigger…

I don’t dream often, one of the rationalisation I make up is because of all the drugs, be it illegal drugs as psychiatric drugs that kind of block the dream system… true or not. I know it may also be about how difficult they are to me, fear protecting me from the memory.

2 weeks ago I had 3 dreams, I may come to the 2 first ones later, but there was one dreams that woke me up, it was short like a blast in my face. I saw (and saw is a big word, it’s all kind of blurry in my mind) But the words and the thoughts are there. I saw people or children sitting one next to the other, and they had giant male members in their face, then I felt one of the members on my face.

Woke up like from an electric shock…

now for sure, it can be it was just a dream… Just a dream of a terrible fear of mine…

But I had hints of strange sexual things happening to me in previous healings, they where more discrete, but they where there, I kind of looked at it in amusement, or an oddity.

You’re right, you can’t base suspicions on just one dream, hell even with what is going to follow, there is the benefit of the doubt, but I won’t be able to go on without having more clues, in my belief, they did a nice work of patching me back together after detox and the addiction community, most of the techniques are cognitive therapy, and yes , it’s useful if you want to be a decent member of the community, you get a job, you learn to communicate normally, you learn to listen a bit better.

It’s a solid plaster, and I’m clean for more than 10 years… and still, I kind of live my life like a ghost… there may be several reasons for that…

But the plaster and the antideppressants hold the wound together so it wouldn’t explode but it only partially looks at the wound… and after a while it starts hurting again.

I am as aware of false memories as I am aware as real trauma that are cloistered in the black box of a life plane crash lost in the very dephts of the jungle and where somehow roots have grown around to hide it and hold it very tightly closed together.

And for the moment I am going for the lather.

Clues I have from my past that may mean I am not making it up. I had enuresia when I was a child, if I’m not mistaken , from 6 to the age of 8… chronology is very difficult for me, I may have been older though I doubt it. Enuresia for those who are not in the know is bedwetting and is usually a sign of regression and a call to attention from the parents.

I am sleepwalking and sleeptalking since I remember… which brought to very odd situations at some times in my life… at the addiction community our shoes where put in a closet in the hallways, every room had it’s closet, in every room you had about 8 people, there must have been 5 to 6 rooms, I actually don’t have a memory of it, but I took all the shoes and room after room I arranged them on top of the small shoe-closet… someone of the educators saw me do it.

I read this could be a side effect of abuse later in life… maybe, maybe not.

When I was somewhere between 6 and 8, i come from a relatively cold country, my lips where full of sores, and I wasn’t taking care of it, I wasn’t putting on lipbalm, one teacher called me cactus lips, and I think it lasted for a long time, I also had a lot of facial tics related to the lips and one related to my arms… so yes I know, it happens to kids when they are in a stressfull period, the problem is it adds on… let’s not even mention that I was diagnosed with depression, and yes I kind of doctor google it… but then I also started to follow therapy, so I’m digging a bit in my memories, and I always put I am in my custom subs, every single one of them, you kind of know that something has to be dealt with and that it isn’t a fun park…

For the story, the teacher that called me cactus lips, there are rumours he may have been active in abusing children, now this has always laid somewhere in my mind in a thick fog. But it tells me it may be someone else.

Someone at work does some kind of hypnosis, emdr, and the first 2 days after the dreams she told me I could do that and it works, I understand the usefulness of it, but on the other hand, isn’t it another way of plastering it, of injecting morphium to stop the pain and not dealing with it. Honest question. We are doing session, and it may be that that lead to the dream as we have opened other wounds… but I didn’t want to do it at that point. She just moved places so for the moment our sessions are on break… I do go to the therapist once a week.

Regen is doing something, and it is contributing to the whole healing process. I looped it once yesterday and I will use it as one of the 3 zp’s, one of them paragon, one of them the chosen… The chosen is giving me some courage and the will to take the bull to the horns… and yes some plaster effect too. (I’m putting my custom on hold for the moment, even though it has sanguine and heartsong in it, it’s a though decision though.

Another thing that happened to me in my youth is that my father died when I was 12, so yes, it’s also a trauma, and it can also lead to pains and depression, but I know people who lost parents, and as it may have given me some coup the grace at some point, I don’t think that’s where the deep wound lies.

Of course the question is sexually, what about this side of the story… well let’s say I had several short liven stories, I had successes and failures, But what I had most of all is me saying no, is me ending the relations on completely irrational grounds, yes I know, Love and sex are not rational things, but when I look back at it all I can think of is, WTF??? where, in what world does it even make an ounce of logic what you did. Again, there may be a million reasons for this, and it may happen to a lot of guys, but for now I kind of decided to stick to the pieces of the puzzle that are laying in front of me, without losing sight of the possibility to be completely mistaken.

Another thing is that every time a girl or a woman wanted to do me a favor, I would be extremely ticklish on the lower tummy. Yeah, kind of kills the experience of pleasure you know.

Another thing thatI had to deal with most of my life is the fear of older men, be it my uncle or people at work… my paranoia was turning in circles in my mind at a very high centrifugal speed, I didn’t do nothing but for me it was very clear, they are angry at me… the world is angry at me, and those thoughts when they amassed enough momentum, well, they become some kind of self fulfilling prophecies.

I am following this path because I remember my conscience when I was depressive, you are kind of blind to the fact that others are not having the same experience as you… you know the habitual, do some sport, take on a hobby, you’ll see, you’re not really depressed, and it works for a while, you feel a bit better, even though the effort is herculean, but you cannot know, you think your friends are doing the same herculean effort… and then at one point you crash and burn… because when all they have to do to get to happiness and accomplishment is light the flame of a lighter,don’t get me wrong, I know we all deal with rain and wind, I’m not saying it’s easy but you, you have to bonfire a whole neighbourhood of inner strenght.

Then one day they give you antidepressants, and suddenly you only have to light 2 or 3 lighters… something like that.

Still, antidepressants are a tool, the problem with it, and this is my belief and has nothing scientific to it, just an inner hunch, but I think it kind of has side effects on the heart, years of use start to make you oblivious to love, you live on a kind of immitative state of what you think your heart is.

Let’s not mention the effect it has on the brain… and it sure has… maybe only in my belief, and I know I suffer from some kind of paranoia… so don’t take my word for it.

So yes I’m messed up… and for the moment I am in my own rehabilitation cocoon, not from drugs, and I do go to work, hell I’m even earlier than the others and I have some talents at my job, even though somehow I’m not where I should be…

So this hidden memory and trauma where I still live in the illusion others have to deal with the same as me, may well be another trap of my consciousness.

There is still a lot to tell, and I know some of you think it has not much to do with the subs, But I think it has to do… I also know I’m not telling you about incredible fun results…

But you can walk for a while in a sex and seduction, Khan, power can corrupt bubble without accomplishing much because as long as you don’t deal with the core, it will fall apart and the vase will crash to smithereens on the flour… and you will be left with shatters of nothingness and a huge ghost of guilt on your back.

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#9

Deal with the core , and here in the forum a lot of people prefer playing the Inside out game prioritising their inner healing first .

Yes all of this has to do with the sub especially the healing subs any new thoughts image are results . Your dream is a clear result . You writing in the journal is important looking back after two months to six months . You will start to notice how much you changed for the better .

Regarding the antidepressant see if ( wim HOF breathing and cold shower ) may be helpful . They helped me I also take antidepressant at some point for more than year .

To your success :muscle::muscle: :heart:

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#10

Thanks a lot. Will elaborate at a later date.

#11

Not writing right now. I’m ok, but I know that if I write down what I’m doing I will stop doing it and lose the momentum. It’s written so I don’t have to do it anymore fallacy.

#12

It’s not easy for me to write down in my journal, the same way I jump from one form of art to the other, or stick to one sub creator or energy morpho whatever, one project or the other… because you don’t want to go too deep, so much fear of facing the monster memory that’s been hiding in me for my whole life.

Note that nowadays I’m sticking to ZP, otherwise the room in my head would be way too messy.

Maybe the reason why I couldn’t be in my body for so many years, the memory itself hasn’t appeared to me yet, not clearly, but I did the human pendulum system to ask questions, and I may know more about what happened, I think I know what happened and it’s kind of way too heavy for me.

My mind keeps telling me i’m making it up, I’m trying to find a reason for my fucked up life, a culprit, like it’s the weak who accuse someone of their sufferings…

When I was younger, I remember friends jokingly repeating me the sentence from good will hunting, It’s not your fault, it’s not your fault… I was talented, and I thought I would succeed in some form of art at the time, I actually still think it, though I’m not young anymore.

I actually always and still agree with his speech why he doesn’t want to join the CIA as a decoder or something, and for me he shouldn’t have joined them.

For the moment I have the abyss staring at me, I’m using Emperor ZP, Paragon ZP and Mind’s eye ZP. I’ve put aside the custom, I sometimes take 3 days of rest from the subs. I know Regen and other ones are still blooming a bit.

Emperor I take for the strength and the courage, I want to be more assertive and follow on through with what I do… I decided to go on writing poetry, it was always my dream… my uber dream was rock-star, but I asked the pendulum and it told me that the songs won’t bring me success, so I’d better write.

How I see what happened for the moment is, that it’s a childhood friend’s father,(the friend is a girl), that made me join parties where other children where abused as well.

He was a rich guy, hell, one day he took me on a tour on a helicopter and I saw my whole city from above, even my school… you have no idea how impressive something like this is for a 6 years old kid.

Yes he came from a rich family and one of my best friends when we where 18 was always saying that he’s a spoiled child who broke all of his toys.

I always wondered why I could hold so few memories of my childhood, why I nearly couldn’t remember my father who died when I was 12, with the subs and the therapy memories came up… and getting to this specific memory will have me breaking up a lot of walls in my mind to get to the fortress, if there is such a thing. Part of me really doesn’t want to deal with it, I’m scared shitless, and I also know that once this is done you have to rebuild yourself. Reality has it that if a child has been trapped in a dark room for years, once someone opens the door the light is too bright and it will take his eyes time to adjust and to learn to see.

Something tells me to use Chosen instead of Emperor, and I’m not able to listen to it, because I need discipline and rigour, and as much as chosen is a sun filled with vitality and happiness, it is not keeping me at my desk.

It is not letting me meet the very low vibration of this memory, and I somewhere know I need it to fight the results of this memory.

My paranoia has gone much more silent from the result of regen I think, and I may play it once or twice a month like RV advised in another journal.

Bear with me that while writing this my body is aching, it just wants to get up and binge on some stupid series or go to sleep or something.

From what I understand Emperor is helping here to be strong and to go through it.

How I felt after work the other day.

Like every cell of my body has an imprint of Munch’s scream on it.
My feeling body is a porcelain doll of a little kid being
smashed to pieces
by the hammer of Thorns

Over and over again

But you’re still at work
and you still have customers
you could kill someone with such a mood
you smile and ask if they want help
Cognitive dissonance at it’s best Caviar dish quality

Because you kind of understood
you where used in some parties where you where an object
it’s flashing like a red light trapped in a fog
the scream is silenced by too much fear

when all I wanted to do with my life
is write poems about flowers, palm trees and sunny days on the shore.

But your life…
what really happened is shouting at you
like such a dick of an angry adult tearing a child’s identity
like an A4 to shreds

Now, your limping body
your soul in the same fashion
towards the same exit everyone takes
just you’re a bit of a million times tired.

Thanks for the subs and other things I do in my life, this lasts no more than an hour or two and not for 3 or 4 days, if you where wondering why I still use the subs after getting that through me.

And yes, I have poems that are more positive.

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#13

I must say that the fact that I can even work, start with girls and have social moments is kind of miraculous with this stuff in the back of my mind… The fact that most of the time i’m nice and serviable, waking up on time, able to stay a bit later at work if necessary… Again, think about it, I should be angry at the world and in a lethargic depression and I’m not.
Physically my problems are getting better, healing… I also think that me having that image of an emperor being big in height may make me grow… But then I may be imagining things.

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#14

It’s a new year
just please, me, my cherished me
don’t break this one
don’t distort it in infinite loops of deconstructive mayhem
of over analytical mind temples of doom

It’s a new year, you know,
another one on the cake of time’s construct
don’t annihilate it through the doubt of it’s existence
it’s as much unreal as it is real.

It’s unreality is an architect’s plan that is being erased
it’s reality is a built building, and you liking it or not
you processing it under the shredder of your doubt
will never dissolve the fact that in that home called time

people are living it history
and so are you,
that’s where you breathe, that’s where you eat and drink and love and dance.
So this year, you will carry
stone after stone after stone
without questioning their loopholes of beingness

it doesn’t serve the deservedness you want to win
you will acknowledge every stone you dispose on the ground
build a road
no sadness for that mountain from which your guilt imagines
you’re stealing them

Build this road for the sake of your earthling life
for your feet so they can fit the plan of a road taken
you will take responsibility for every stone
and you will walk the walz
courageously

forgive fear of years of “I give up” roads
paths that you have plunged in the abyss of failure
artistic questioning circle pathways
nonsensical absurd devaluation of all those architect’s
plans

You will abstain from Schrodinger every stone.
Even if it seems more honest.
Claim the right to build a road made of stones made of mountains.
Join your eyelids and green light the necessary blindness
seeing is not a color for that matter.

It’s a city
you’re inhabiting
because people
and your I am.
Be in it… do in it… move in it…move it.

The stones are made of mountain
every road, even the flat one
is a climbing somehow.

So we don’t know for sure
and we’ll never know

the first stone
holiness
is it’s only necessary truth
even if it somewhat lies on dirt
declare it’s existence
so the next one, and the next one, and the next one

don’t look back at the salts that eats the fabric of the stones
Don’t let all those tears of tearing up questions catch up with them
be deaf to them for a while
and then for more time
and then add some…

This year is another candle on the birthday cake of life.
Don’t blow it
Let the candle be sturdy
let it be the only candle’s fire you feed from for now.

Pave your way
Let it be organised and planned and ordered.
Build them so you can take your steps
one at a time
You’re not young anymore
your step may be tired
let the flame phoenix your soul’s soles
reality to shreds in the stare of the abyss
kneed it to past tense

pause

say

to the numbers and the letters that they exist
that their place is as much needed right now
as food to your mouth

revalidate
all of it
ask for help and do.
Keep focus.
Keep focus
keep focus
shout it and let it echo a million times in your mind
until it sticks.

Leave stones unturned
let them breathe, let them live, let them be
the ugly ones
the fearsome ones
the angry ones
the loving ones
the road is paved by you
for you
don’t pay attention to the fact
that it is not your decision anyways

there’s a lot of the light you cannot see
there’s delight and darkness in an embrace
all is valid, all your feelings are
the ground under your feet.
The now of always is a step by step system.
Only you can lay out for yourself.

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