Patch the hole

Try juicing. Start with raw celery, and some raw carrot in it, and ginger root, add some parsley. Not in a blender, but a juicer. Use that instead of coffee in the morning

After a heartbreak, I suggest dedicating yourself fully to Sorcery — take the opportunity to work harder and avoid falling into self-pity. If a relationship has ended, it’s a good time to recapitulate it.

Maybe you can practice more and go further along the J Curve. And if you feel lonely, there are IOBs and Silent Knowledge entities to interact with…

You can wound yourself longing for someone, or simply understand that the whole “happily ever after” thing is a myth that has never worked for sorcerers. And always remember Juann’s phrase: Sorcerers forget by moving their assemblage point.

I think you would feel much better stalking yourself. You are engaged in the doing of who you are, so naturally, who you are drains most of your energy. It just happens that who you are is something that sucks right now. Who you were when you were madly in love was also an energy drain, but it probably didn’t feel that way. Thats how things are with us, we have victories and defeats. A stalker acts without regard for these things - he practices controlled folly. Results do not matter, only the impeccable execution of his decisions. This yields one of the ordinary benefits of stalking - an overall feeling of lightness of the heart, peaceful detachment, acting with complete abandon and yet in total control. It allows us to stop taking ourselves so seriously and laugh at ourselves.

You for example are looking for relationship advice from strangers on the internet who practice magic. Do you expect we can give you a secret magical ritual to help you get over a breakup? But we all have fun, so why not? You can try covering the place of your energy body which feels empty with hot apple jam. It has to be freshly made too. Preferably with apples you have picked. Now, when you start cooking, you need to tell your apples out loud about how your breakup is making you feel and why it happened. Ask them kindly to help you plug your energy hole. Otherwise, the apples won’t know what they are supposed to plug and you might get constipated.

If that offends you, you have self-importance issues. But if you can let go of those, you realise how stupid it all is. And you might just cook that jam too. Life is too short to dwell on breakups.

As for recapitulation, I wouldn’t start with recapitulating your whole relationship. The thing is too fresh for you and you are trying to get over a broken heart, which messes with the intent of recapitulating. Try recapitulating other relationships you have had and look for meaning.

How did I realize that you have a hole where you lose energy? Did you see that?

What are you doing when you recap? When you're remembering things, where's your "head at".

If you find you're still pining for your wife, or wallowing in misery, that would explain things. It must be tough what you're going through but eventually you'll get so sick of feeling that way that you'll make the switch to truly just wanting to be done with it. Then you will be able to sit there and face it without being consumed by your feelings.

Believe me I know the feeling of wanting to be miserable! It can suck the life right out of you.

Just open yourself up and face it. Eventually you'll learn skills to cope with the feelings and they won't take such a toll on you. It's like exposure therapy. I think Techno posted something about that once. Take as much as you can handle and find ways to work through it without letting it take you over.

Eventually you won't give a shit anymore and just want your energy back, so you'll be able to face it and sweep it without getting lost in it. You'll get there, just keep at it. You'll learn so much about yourself.

I had a heartache for several years. It also feels like a hole. I was helped by recapitulating the lives of my parents and grandparents. It even gets creepy from coincidences. I can't get over their feelings, but I've been repeating their behavior. Restoration of photo albums, recollection of stories about them, comparison with my life. They were all obsessed with love. All my grandparents went crazy by the end of their life: anger, paranoia, schizophrenia, a vegetable state after strokes. My crazy grandfather tried to kill my grandmother, ran away from home, tore up photos and documents. Document recovery seemed to be restoring me.

Let nature heal you. Don’t isolate yourself. Go out in the sun. Move yourself. Lay on the earth. Talk with trees. Look at people in the park. Fall in love with the world again. Reddit can not help you.

In my experience the difficulties we experience with intimate relationships are rooted in our childhood. Here is a tale from which you might draw inspiration:

I was taking part in a Tensegrity seminar in which we were examining behavioral foibles in our adult life and their roots in childhood experiences. The exercises involved relating a recent uncomfortable social interaction to a partner, who without judgement asked a series of scripted questions to shed light on the source of the behavioral pattern.

My partner told a story of a recent interaction where he did not know the answer to a question he was asked, but rather than simply admit that, responded with a line of drivel. The first question I asked him was if he could identify where that behavior originated. He replied, yes, he was mimicking an older relative who used to come around his childhood home. The next question was - how did you feel about him? When he replied that he had despised this person, I was so astounded that I lost the script; turning my head to the left, where my view was of the distant end of the venue, I mumbled – but why would you copy someone that you despised? Suddenly the Tensegity instructor at the end of the hall became remote, like a distant mountain, as the focus of my vision shifted into a scene from my childhood.

I was maybe six or seven years old, standing in our living room between my mother and father who were in the midst of a loud and angry argument. Open mouthed, my breath caught in my throat as I looked from one to the other. Mother wore an apron over her tweed skirt for she had been preparing the evening meal, and the heavy wooden table in the dining room adjacent was set with a pristine cloth. She stood in front of the fireplace which was set in the center of the wall, confronting my father across the room, who leaned toward the door in the opposite corner, gripping the handle. His dark pants fit loose with immaculate creases in front, topped with a check sport jacket. His black curly hair was oiled and shining. His clean-shaven jaw was tight with anger. He uttered a final outburst, opened the door and left, slamming the door behind him. In the silence I looked up at my mother. She had crossed her arms across her chest and stared after him furiously. Panic rose in my belly as I was certain that she had decided to leave. She had had enough. I ran to her and threw my arms around her hips, pressing my face to her belly and begged her – please don’t leave us mum. But she did not respond, which caused me to again stop breathing, and when I looked up into her face wondering why, she just continued to stare after the closed door, lips pursed in bitter resolve.

The evening after the close of the seminar, home in the furnished apartment that I rented, I was propped up in bed reading a short story which amazingly was set in the small fishing village in Scotland where my father was born and had lived up till he was married. In the story, one of the fishermen has died at sea, and as the fleet crosses the entrance to the harbour each of the men who are waiting bows his head to remove his flat cap and places it over his heart.

I immediately recognized this gracious expression of love respect and loss.

In the days following my father’s death, five years previously, my mother had told me she felt that his heart’s desire had been to be an explorer on the sea, but for whatever reason, he had not managed to do it. She had therefore decided that if he died before her, she would scatter his ashes upon the sea.

When we sought help with this in his home village, it transpired that father had once saved a fisherman from drowning in the harbor entrance, and he offered to take us in his boat so we could scatter the ashes in that place. That morning as we reached the spot, the fisherman removed his cap and placed it over his heart.

I looked up from the book and said “I love you dad, wherever you are”

Then I realized that was the first time in my life I had ever thought that, let alone said it.

no shortage of advice today...

- maybe a doctor could help with the stomach - my aunt suddenly developed gastritis and had to take medication for a while and avoid certain foods in order to be able to heal the stomach and eat normally again.

- i am prone to depressive moods and listlessness, and my mood has improved since i daily take vitamin d3 with k2.

- i don't know if this helps, but i once heard a story that impressed me and gave me a better understanding of how we function as social beings. it was told by cyberneticist heinz von foerster in an interview in german. he talked about a lecture he once gave at a conference:

".. and as an example, i have taken an extraordinary example that i learned from viktor frank, that great viennese psychiatrist.

through a miracle, not only did he come back to vienna alive after four years in a concentration camp, but also a couple, the wife from a concentration camp and the husband from another. and both came to vienna almost on the same day and met in front of the door of their apartment. and you can imagine what kind of joy that was. "what, you live? you got away with it?" so it was a paradise for these two people.

however, after 2-3 weeks, the woman died of an illness she had contracted in a concentration camp. the man was completely destroyed, ruined, sat in the kitchen on a stool and didn't want to talk to anyone, didn't want to eat or drink anything. friends came and said eat something. "no, leave me alone". lie down, have a little sleep! "no, i can't sleep". the man was finished. a few friends had the good idea of putting him in touch with dr viktor frankl, who also survived four years in a concentration camp. perhaps the two of them could communicate.

they succeeded. the man actually saw viktor frankl. the two men sat together and talked for perhaps an hour and suddenly viktor frankl completely changes the subject and says, "dear sir, suppose god gave me the power to create a woman who was exactly like yours. who spoke the same language, had the same experiences, told the same jokes, and shared the same little things in conversation with you. would you want me to create such a woman?" and the man sits there for a moment and says no, gets up, shakes frankl's hand and turns back to life.

when i heard the story, i said, ‘that's unbelievable. viktor frankl, what did you do with this person? why, what did you come up with?’
and dr frankl said to me, "dear heinz, it's quite simple. we see ourselves through the eyes of others. and when she was no longer there, he was blind. but when he realised that he was blind, he could see again. .."
( german interview: )

Schizophrenia often starts with unexplained illness.

Cholita got so sick that she blamed her husband, who finally decided that was enough of her, and divorced her as fast as he could.

But it was just her impending schizophrenia.

Back in the 1960s there was a woman who developed schizophrenia, and the quack doctors of that era removed her spleen.

Which had nothing to do with it.

I read in one place you can actually die from it, but then ChatGPT told me you can't unless it leads to suicide or drug abuse.

I can only explain what has and hasn't worked in my situation. The hole in me is in my chest through my sternum and if I focus my attention on it, it is painful. Intense drama opens it wide and I sort of collapse outward with overwhelming emotion.

Strong emotion or wanting for a woman causes a painful feeling of being reamed out through my chest.

For years and years nothing worked. I was even given chest a patch of dark, cool, gooey energy that worked for a while, but wore off.

I hadn't remembered this until your post.

My pain has finally been ameliorated. Through internal silence.

In silence, I focus on my energy body, and put an energy barrier, or a patch maybe 8 to 12 inches from my physical body.

'It's a very gentle focus that gives relief.

Reminds me of a song-

There’s a hole in my bucket, dear Liza, dear Liza,
There’s a hole in my bucket, dear Liza, a hole.

Then fix it, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry,
Then fix it, dear Henry, dear Henry, fix it.

With what shall I fix it, dear Liza, dear Liza,
With what shall I fix it, dear Liza, with what?

With straw, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry,
With straw, dear Henry, dear Henry, with straw.

The straw is too long, dear Liza, dear Liza,
The straw is too long, dear Liza, too long.

Then cut it, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry,
Then cut it, dear Henry, dear Henry, cut it.

With what shall I cut it, dear Liza, dear Liza,
With what shall I cut it, dear Liza, with what?

With an axe, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry,
With an axe, dear Henry, dear Henry, with an axe.

The axe is too dull, dear Liza, dear Liza,
The axe is too dull, dear Liza, too dull.

Then sharpen it, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry,
Then sharpen it, dear Henry, dear Henry, sharpen it.

With what shall I sharpen it, dear Liza, dear Liza,
With what shall I sharpen it, dear Liza, with what?

With a stone, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry,
With a stone, dear Henry, dear Henry, a stone.

The stone is too dry, dear Liza, dear Liza,
The stone is too dry, dear Liza, too dry.

Then wet it, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry,
Then wet it, dear Henry, dear Henry, wet it.

With what shall I wet it, dear Liza, dear Liza,
With what shall I wet it, dear Liza, with what?

Try water, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry,
Try water, dear Henry, dear Henry, with water.

In what shall I carry it, dear Liza, dear Liza,
In what shall I carry it, dear Liza, in what?

In a bucket, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry,
In a bucket, dear Henry, dear Henry, a bucket.

There’s a hole in my bucket, dear Liza, dear Liza,
There’s a hole in my bucket, dear Liza, a hole.

Fuck it all and fuck it no regrets…..

Learn to get silent, do Darkroom Tensegrity. Recap later. Silence changes you.

rest