Another face

Dark face of your life

I decided to make this place, like collection of your bad experiences,
which had got large influence on your life.

I know very well, that Jedi are focus on positive and also world shout to us "Be positive",
but also dark side of us has been participate on creation of our personality.

People are usually worry to show their other face. So, let´s be brave!
Please be open and reveal your dark story of your life.
Don´t worry about judge. Not here in Temple!

I also reveal my story.
This has happened, when I ended the primary school. In this time, I didn´t make myself (in sense of makeup, mascara...),
like many girls in my age does, but I didn´t need it yet, I looked quite good. And also, people accepted me as I am,
but I should admit that I had got little bit worse social skills and few friends. In this part of life I had got strong value (attachment),
that I didn´t want to use makeup - I wanted to by natural and pure, without chemical things on my skin.
The problem had start, when I change the school. (to secondary school). In at first I tried to develop my effort and make a relationship
with new people, in new environment at the school. It´s going well. But latter I saw that people are already made more close relationships
with each other., but I somehow haven´t enough power to strive at all. So, at the end I ´ve got 2 friends. And people didn´t sit to me in canteen.
Because of my face and I also didn´t talk so much, so I seems strange to others. Latter I began perceive, that the girls are more beautiful, than I.
And I began to think that - how much friends I have, is based on how beautiful I am. I hadn´t united skin, hadn´t wore makeup and few acnes.
Day by day I saw myself in the mirror and I had got strong disgust myself, I felt very ugly to comparison with others. Latter at one Spanish language class,
while the running Spanish class people started to laugh and slender me, because of my face. One boy said me - come with me outside sometime, I like you!
(in front of class), the class has been organized to - U- letter. So everyone saw and heard it. This sarcasm makes me feel terrible and I wanted to cry, but I
can´t. This has repeated approximately about one year, latter it going to be better. Because I broke my value (attachment), but involunarily and wore makeup
of course natural (100% Pure).
Latter I get to book - The Secret. So, I started to write gratitude every day. "I am grateful for connection and solidarity with people". And happened miracle!
It takes 1,2 months and people began sit to me in school canteen and more talk with me. I was very happy!
Nowadays I am not so much biased by my beauty, ( of course I take care about my face). But still persist worse ability with relationships, maybe caused by
fear, that people could connect against me, like in the class does.

My consistant dark place has been in regards to my intellegence. Often I was called cruel names such as “retarded” , “‘'tardo”, “special ed”, etc. These names I was called by members of my own family. Its impossible to get away from these sort of put downs when you live with the people saying them. As a consequence of this, I often over achieve in studies and life, trying to prove to myself and others that I am smart enough not to be called those names, but they stick with me, you know?

Another thing which I have delt with is the idea of “not being good enough.” As some of you know, I have a physical disability that makes it difficult to balance or walk. But my foster parents, in a bid to get me to improve, created an invisible rival for me named Michelle. She could do much more than I could both physically and mentally. No matter what I did or how I progressed, she was one step ahead of me. I don't remember ever getting a “good job”. I'm sure I did, but its funny what comes forward from my memory banks.

This has reminded me how much what we are told and /or taught in childhood influences what we become as adults. I find it hard to take complements because I feel I can/should do better. By the same token, I find it hard to accept criticsm because I feel I must be smarter.

Its been six, nearly seven years since I joined the Temple. The “work” (by which I mean inner work) The Temple (by which I mean the people, the connections, the relationships) has helped me do in my own life cannot be over stated. When I tell you that six years ago I was a mess, please believe me. Or, if you are keen, Ill be moving my journals from behind the wall soon and you can look at them. I may never get rid of these engrained mechanisms, but I am actively working on it. The Temple has shown the good, helpful, kind, generous and gentle side to people more often than it has shown me the less desirable side. When I have needed challenging, it has provided that too, and that has helped me tremendously.

I hope I can learn and grow more here. I hope that all of you feel comfortable learning and growing here too. More importantly, I hope that we can all have a part in making this a place we can all grow.

Oh my Temple, I do love you dearly

Thank you Erimis for creating this thread.

When I was a young boy at school, I was bullied a lot because I was overweight and had red hair. Until today I have difficulties accepting that I belong to a certain group of people. I always feel like I don´t live up to their expectations and that I am not worthy of being a part of a certain group. Even here at the Temple I have the feeling that I am not really part of it. This feeling has been with me for ages and I can´t figure out a way to get rid of it. But it has decreased over the years...

I was raised on the street to be selfish cruel and a instrument of force by the ones in charge. I heard about peace and love and kindness in the messages at church my grams dragged me and my cousins to every week but growing up -yet - I fought swore drank and was the all out bad kid. Growing up ghetto ROYAL meant I had a reputation to uphold as far as a family name. I would be going and walking down the road of hard knocks to this day if I haven’t made some certain desisions in my life.

Blame played a huge free- ing focus for me as I began my own discovery of what who and why I was... me. The moment I began NOT to blame , just identifying things, I no longer had to blame my past or even people -
My hope is some how some way others like me who think they were once trapped or stuck can free them selfs. If not by word by experience or even just a note .We can change and break chains that once held us and others.


Thank you Erinis.
May the Force continue to find you as you seek it !

So much candor is on display here ... it is touching.

I wonder if any of us in this vast world is without an inner wound. It is easy to find smiling faces as we go about our day, but perhaps it serves us that behind the sincerest smile is a reservoir of tears that have not yet been fully released.

When I was very young, I was a perfect Urkel. Thick glasses, an overbite, skinny and unathletic, and brainy ... the sort that the jocks and ruffians liked to shove around. Contact lenses, braces, exercise, and maturity helped me move beyond what then seemed traumatic, but it's still at least mildly uncomfortable to think about.

A wound with more staying power was left by the impacts of alcoholism in the family. It's been decades since those years, but it's still very uncomfortable to think about the harshest periods within them.

A final wound has little to do with victimhood, and more to do with my own foolishness. I was slow to grow up, emotionally, and as a result caused a few other people deep disappointment and pain. I can't rectify that now, and carry a sense of remorse. It's my own responsibility, but also a part of my shadow.

I'm reminded by the comments left by others in this thread of a cliche I heard years ago - "Truth is love's doorway." It is next to impossible to witness the unveiling of a soul's inner chambers without discovering a high regard for that soul. I see beauty in each of you, and I love you all.

When i was a child we lived in crappy, low income apartments that were full of dust and infested with roaches. I had childhood asthma and (i later learned) the roaches especially are triggers for that. I got sick a lot in my first ten or eleven years, because of this. One day in third grade i went to school really sick.

Our grandmother used to walk us to school at this time and now that im telling the story, i remember her saying i had to go to school because they had policies about being absent, but that i could go to the office, later, they would see i was sick and theyd call her to come get me. Man, i was so damn sick, lol. The class room i was in had a bathroom within the class itself, and i remember counting that i threw up/ vomited six times that day, during school. I had asked to go to the office several times but the teacher wouldnt let me. I was kind of smart and probably a little lazy lol and i think i had a tendancy to get bored with some of my school work. I think she said i had to finsih my assignment, before i could call home. But i was too sick to write or even to think. She held up my paper in front of the class and said something like “look everybody, its been two hours and while youve all been working as hard as you can, Ob1 here hasnt done anything except write his name!” She really rubbed it in that everyone else was working hard and i hadnt done anything. Third grade teacher who hates children, lol, what a world.
We had music class that day and that was always my favorite. I was in chorus the year before and i absolutely adored Mrs Brown, the music teacher. She was my favorite person at that school. My other teacher, the evil one, lol, told Mrs Brown that she had better watch me very carefully because i get so excited and worked up that i make myself throw up. What a beeeetch! I went to the doctor later that day and they sent me to the ER. I was in the hospital for three or four days.
My mom told me years later that i had always enjoyed school before this happened but afterwards i stopped wanting to go. I dont wonder! I hated school and always had a huge distrust of authority and i think this experience was a big part of that.

My step dad assaulted my sister later that year. He went to prison and we moved, and changed schools. That was one of the darkest parts of my childhood.

Also, the summer before this me and my sister went to a SORT-OF summer camp. It was basicaly like a lousy day care program at the local park, but the park was HUGE and the supervision wasnt good. Me and my sister were walking along and a group of kids started yelling obscenities at us about our mom, and some... details about her private parts, lol. Kids are so stupid. Theres was anlot of them and only two of us and after doing the math I told my sister to ignore them and keep walking.... but of course she was also stupid lol and just had to yell something back. Well, they all started running to get us and the chase was on. Several of them were older than me and i saw they were gonna catch us so i stopped and told my sister to run to the nearest office and get a grown up. She took off and when the kids caught up to me, it got worse, lol. First the biggest of the boys sent his little brother to “try” me, which was a pretty common thing in that neighborhood. The idea is you send the little guy to disrespect someone and if the person stands up fornthemself, the bigger brother and the rest of the gang beat him up and say it was for picking on the little brother. I knew not to hit the kid but i didnt let him hit me, either. Which was all it took because, sure enough, big brother stepped in. He was several years older than me and i was scared, lol. Damn kid wasnt wearing a shirt and i could see he had MUSCLES. I was just a fat little pudge lol the only muscles i had at this time were the ones on my He-Man figures lol. This kid punched me three or four times in the face and i never did anything except walk backward, try to not get hit, and try to talk my way out of it. He was bigger and there was a group of them: I was scared, and i didnt fight back. It wast the only time i had to run from a group of kids or choose between backing down and being jumped by a pack, (sometimes i did choose to fight, but sometimes i didnt) but it was the one that always stood out in my memory. It made me ashamed of myself for a very long time. Even now it makes me feel angry and a little ashamed but i eventually i realized that it was kind of brave of me to send my sister ahead and “hold them off” lol.. that takes some of the sting out of it.

These and similar events informed my personality a lot. I know quite well that theres a lot of people out there who will hurt you for no good reason except that they want to. Even some of the people who are supposed to look out for you. So, yea, lol.

My consisted dark places I think center around a mother who did not want a child with Cerebral palsy so she left me in a corner untouched and unloved until my dad got me but from there constant medical treatments and surgeries to make me just able to walk. A society that sees me as just a person with Cerebral palsy and not as a person with a mind. I have overcome many of these things but unfortunately i still view many things through a lens of rejection and unworthiness and not being wanted.

these are still the things i am working on.

Twelve years ago, at 16.00, I went to the gym. It was winter. To the entrance to the subway was 30 meters. From the subway, in my direction, walked about 15 people. Drunk I was pushed, I slipped on the ice and fell. I felt kicks, then a flash of pain in my head. They left, and I got to my feet. Not far from me there were people, and watched how those guys beat me. Near me lay a bottle of beer, with traces of blood. The surgeon put stitches on my head.
Six months later, I went to friends in another city. When I returned, I sat down at the computer. Everything became dark before my eyes, and I lost consciousness. Doctors conducted a survey and found out that I have epilepsy. Because of this, I had to change my profession (I studied as a programmer, but for epilepsy, you cannot work at a computer for a long time). I had convulsions during epileptic seizures. Now life has stabilized a bit. But, every morning, when I drink medicine, I remember that day.