Getting Punched In The Back Of The Throat

Colombian dick and Holy Anger

“Damn, I think I’m getting sick. My tonsils feel swollen”

“No!” Says a friend, “you’re just finally getting punched in the back of the throat by a thick Colombian dick, and it’s been a while for you”. 

I blushed.

I started seeing Daniel about 2 weeks…(fuck, I should change his name for anonymity, let’s call him Shmaniel. Nailed it!)

I started seeing Shmaniel about 2 weeks from that conversation with my friend. It had been a while for me. The pandemic has happened and no one has come out unscathed. It brought up a lot of different issues for people, and for me, one of those issues was my love life, or lack thereof.

So when things were subsiding I decided to seek companionship. Spoiler alert! I didn’t find it.

I found Shmaniel and he was tall, handsome, and he talked to me, well… I say talked I mean he asked how my day was. And that was enough to hook me in. Someone asked how my day was, and actually wanted a response? I found the one!

My mind created a fantasy world. A Wonderland where I followed the white rabbit down into the abyss of my desperation.

The reality was, and boy was I forced to see reality, he didn’t actually give a shit. I was a human fleshlight, I was a toy he would use to masturbate with. He would text me late at night, usually past midnight inviting me over.

Wait, a handsome boy wants me over? He wants to see me?

I would put on my rose-colored glasses and head over, emphasis on the head. Only for me to walk out of there feeling more rejected than when I was by myself, feeling more used and discarded than the napkin you used to wipe your nose.

I would go there thinking that tonight he would ask me to be official with him, that tonight our language barrier wouldn’t be such a problem, that I could practice more of my Spanish and communicate better with him. If only I was more fluent in Spanish, or he in English then everything would be solved.

No amount of language barrier is an excuse for how I allowed myself to keep going back there only to cry in the car.

Thank God I had already started therapy at that time. Go read my last blog post “Remote Control” and you’ll see that I’ve had a string of relationships that have been controlling and narcissistic. He was another another knot in the string and I wasn’t yet seeing it. My eyes hadn’t yet been open to him, nay, to my one behavior.

He was just doing what narcissists do, looking out for himself and his pleasure. I was the one allowing it to happen. 

As my therapy sessions progressed, and after a few cries of me asking my therapist why doesn’t he love me? I started to see the self-abuse I was imposing on myself. So for about another year, I kept going back, for pleasure-ish, but more for self-study.

I would go back and be mindful of how I felt, what I was thinking, how he would treat me, what he would say, what fantasies I was creating in my head, everything that I could make aware I did.

I was the Marie Curie of self-deprecation, He was my radium and polonium and I kept exposing myself to it. Studying its effects on me. 

That may sound glamorous and courageous… more like stupid and masochistic.

Freud developed the concept of moral masochism, where a person directs their aggression onto themselves instead of outwards. 

You see, somewhere in life we can learn that expressing anger has a negative effect on others, sure it causes conflict, but we’re seeing conflict as a fight, a breakup, a rejection. 

Anger comes from a sense of justice. If you feel angry it most likely means a boundary of yours has been crossed, an injustice has been acted upon you, and that anger is a guide telling you something needs to be put back in place. Now! This isn’t to say act in anger, yell at everyone and tell everyone to fuck off. That’s counterproductive and destructive.

What we want to do with our anger and use it as fuel to let someone know that we need to set a line here. Conflict is meant for resolution, not for arguing. Anger is the door that wants to open a conversation so we can resolve an issue and gravitate toward maturity and integration, not toward division and segregation.

At first, I was seeing Shmaniel for pleasure and for purposes my shadow self wanted to show me and I wasn’t yet aware. Then, as I dove deeper in therapy and learned that, while he was a narcissist, I was the one playing into his board game. He would roll the dice, move me as a pawn as many times as he wanted, but it doesn’t change the fact that I was in the game too.

So when I learned my part in the game I went back to him as a student. I saw him as a pawn of my shadow self’s game. My shadow self was the teacher showing me how pain and self-rejection have turned into emotional and moral masochism, using Shmaniel the lesson plan. 

He taught me a lot, and it took a good amount of strength to finally break it off with him. What if I never found anyone else? What if this was as good as I could have it, and there was nothing out there for me? 

I can see it so clearly now how self-demeaning those beliefs were. I won’t say that Oh wow, now that I broke it off with him my heart is finally open to love again, and I found the most amazing guy in the world and we’re in love and will fly to Venus tomorrow to live happily ever after, because it’s not true. I’m still a little worm in my cocoon too afraid to put myself out there. I saw my demeaning beliefs and I am still working on them. But I also understand now that a huge step has been taken by me in the right direction, I am choosing me.

For a long time I couldn’t bring myself to block him from my phone. He still messaged me every other month saying hello. I would ignore it, delete it, but not block it. Why?

I clung on to the thought that maybe one day? Would I really go back to that? Knowing there’s no love in the end? Knowing everything I know, would I really go back?

I didn’t want to reject him like I had been rejected. Even if I never saw him again, blocking him felt like the final rejection and I wasn’t ready, until I was. 

I chose me. I finally saw that hanging on to his number, even a sporadic hello maintained the energetic cord between us. There was no love in the end there, but there is love for me within me. I needed to take that internal aggression and actually express it outwards, first by officially breaking it off with him, and then by blocking him.

Your holy anger matters and it does you no good if its directed towards yourself.

Your holy anger is a message saying some justice needs to be doled out and acted on.

Your holy anger can and should be used for empowerment and construction. Don’t let the world tell you that your anger is invalid.

with much love and tarot magic, my friend,

Icaro

Yes, I chose the boner of the tarot for this week’s blog! You best believe it! HA!

The Ace of Wands is cheekily known as the boner of the tarot, which is appropriate for this week.

What you can do is use this card as your significator, meaning you look for it in your deck and pull it. Then you can pull extra cards asking the Ace of Wands what messages it has for you.

Maybe you’re someone who’s struggling with the subject of sex, in any capacity, and this can be a good guide for you.