Despite my best attempts to write coherently, it almost seems that demons got into the writing. Since women can't write coherently, which is evident by the fact that when they ask for help, people say there is no help and nothing makes any sense and they do not need it, I solicited a couple of male soldiers, from the past, to look over my work. Since I had not actually lived the bush war in any logical manner, and since my father had, and since this book was really about him, I wanted them to place the narrative into a format that would allow the rational mind that others had, but I didn't, to finally make sense of my story and my situation.
But when I looked at the thing much later, there was something in the way things were organized that made me look a bit like an idiot, or like someone not really striking out for my independence, when that is all that my efforts had been concentrated on doing. For instance, it might have looked like I was seeking my family's support, when really I desperately wanted them to have support from other sources. It might have seemed that way to people, for all I knew. I couldn't fathom out the Western mind, because they kept telling me that all I had to do was toughen up, because there were no menservants or ladyservants that were going to waiting on me. They seemed desperate to impart to me this lesson. I kept trying to please them, but it remained very difficult for me to read their minds.
It was so easy for them to read my mind though, so I thought that if only I just had some rational, male help to place all of the pieces of my life together, they would read my mind in the proper manner and with great exactitude and then we would all be delivered from this fiasco.
But it seems I invited demons in unknowingly -- and they may or may not have wreaked havoc with my work.
I have to say I tried my best though, relying on all available resources.
I just had to get back to my core -- to my origins -- to figure out for myself what went wrong.
Actually, things weren't going that well at all, because I couldn't find essential pieces of information that were missing from my puzzle. And for all the mind-reading people seemed able to do directly into my head, if I asked them a direct question they were not able to answer anything at all. I had a lot of aggression directed inwardly against myself. Every cold or 'flu, I used to catch it. And I'd never recover from it -- not for three months or longer. It would alleviate slightly and then strike again, so that throughout the year I harbored viruses inside my body. And I had sinus like nobody's business. It really wore me down. And when I tried to speak, a weak, small breathless voice came out, that seemed to be somewhat removed from me, because of my ear blockages. I had them all the time.
This was a sign that there were demons in me as well, of course. They'd worked their way in. For the life of me, though, I couldn't get them out. Not by beseaching the Lord, or anything. The more depressed and humiliated I became, the more they ensconsced themselves -- which made my father very ashamed and caused him to reflect more deeply on his own failures. Which always meant an episode of rage. Men were allowed to get angry, but women were not.
But when I looked at the thing much later, there was something in the way things were organized that made me look a bit like an idiot, or like someone not really striking out for my independence, when that is all that my efforts had been concentrated on doing. For instance, it might have looked like I was seeking my family's support, when really I desperately wanted them to have support from other sources. It might have seemed that way to people, for all I knew. I couldn't fathom out the Western mind, because they kept telling me that all I had to do was toughen up, because there were no menservants or ladyservants that were going to waiting on me. They seemed desperate to impart to me this lesson. I kept trying to please them, but it remained very difficult for me to read their minds.
It was so easy for them to read my mind though, so I thought that if only I just had some rational, male help to place all of the pieces of my life together, they would read my mind in the proper manner and with great exactitude and then we would all be delivered from this fiasco.
But it seems I invited demons in unknowingly -- and they may or may not have wreaked havoc with my work.
I have to say I tried my best though, relying on all available resources.
I just had to get back to my core -- to my origins -- to figure out for myself what went wrong.
Actually, things weren't going that well at all, because I couldn't find essential pieces of information that were missing from my puzzle. And for all the mind-reading people seemed able to do directly into my head, if I asked them a direct question they were not able to answer anything at all. I had a lot of aggression directed inwardly against myself. Every cold or 'flu, I used to catch it. And I'd never recover from it -- not for three months or longer. It would alleviate slightly and then strike again, so that throughout the year I harbored viruses inside my body. And I had sinus like nobody's business. It really wore me down. And when I tried to speak, a weak, small breathless voice came out, that seemed to be somewhat removed from me, because of my ear blockages. I had them all the time.
This was a sign that there were demons in me as well, of course. They'd worked their way in. For the life of me, though, I couldn't get them out. Not by beseaching the Lord, or anything. The more depressed and humiliated I became, the more they ensconsced themselves -- which made my father very ashamed and caused him to reflect more deeply on his own failures. Which always meant an episode of rage. Men were allowed to get angry, but women were not.
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