This is a Sacred Space

April 20, 2013 at 8:21 am (Spiritual) (, , , , , , , , , , , )

I’ve been doing this balancing act for a few days now. I don’t feel comfortable sharing all the details of my medical situation on the Internet any more, not even here. That feeling defeats the purpose of having the blog to begin with. It’s all garbled up in my head and I am trying to tease it out into a long, single strand that makes sense all around.

When the Regretsians first found my blog and started making fun of me and the stuff I write (and the stuff I believe in), I was a little hurt. Eventually, I put on my big boy pants and fucking dealt with it. I posted to the forum and I addressed them here as well. The story ended very well; even though I don’t really read or post there anymore, I still go back and can always find some person I knew (oh so many years months ago).  It’s worth noting that Loki was proud of me, proud enough that He had me mark the occasion permanently.

There will always be people who will take whatever I write on my blog and use it for their personal enjoyment. I think it’s despicable and low to mine a blog about my medical condition and chronic illness for such things, but my opinion doesn’t count and I’m okay with that.

But there is real harm happening. There are people who subscribed to this blog because they really do want to know what’s going on with me, and I find myself hesitant to write about anything at all.

I prayed about it, and this is what I was Told: This blog is a sacred act. It was, is, and will be a sacrifice on Baphomet’s altar. She wants me to delve deep into the places that hurt, that are vulnerable and scary, and bring them to the fore. He thinks that my journey is important to others, not just because they care about me and want to know I’m okay, but many people read these words because it gives them comfort and insight into their own journey with chronic illness, disability, pain, and death. They need to know that their suffering matters, that their tiny prayers whispered from inside the MRI tube are being heard, that when they awake in the middle of the night because their pain is so bad they can’t move Someone is still there for them. It may not be Baphy, but it will be someone.

Baphomet also said that the sacrifice is only more blessed, bigger and better and more holy, when part of the sacrifice is continuing to post in the face of ridicule and humiliation.

This is a sacred place. This is a sacred place not because I say so, but because the Gods do. So this is the last time I will be addressing my fear of posting. This is a sacred place because the people who come here say it is so. If you wish to defile my sacred space, you act against the Gods and people who have worked to make it what it is today, and what it will be tomorrow.



  1. Lemon said,

    Last night, in the midst of another migraine, this time because my kyanite bracelet has mysteriously vanished into the nether regions of OnlyTheGodsKnowWhere, I was trying to ignore the fuzz and the pain from all the empathic, channeled, clairaudient, and telepathic noise that constantly barrages me, which, without the kyanite to keep it from sticking, builds up until it starts to break me down physically, with a book. One of the characters is telepathic. The lead character grumped at him to please stop reading her, that it was invasive. He explained to her that he could not, that it was “as invisibly natural as the beating of his heart.” Needless to say… I burst into tears… because, like him… I CANNOT MAKE IT STOP.

    It IS as invisibly natural as the beating of my heart to constantly be so wide open that the sound of the mulitiverse is constantly flowing through me. It is also invisibly destructive on a wide scale. When my bracelet, the ONLY THING I have found in 35 years that helped – no, not shield it out, because nothing does that, but helped to keep me CLEAN at LEAST (ever tried to cleanse yourself while bathing in mud? Yeah… effective, isn’t it…) disappeared yesterday, I searched everywhere FRANTICALLY. A friend told me, ever so helpfully, that it probably went missing so that I could learn that I was actually able to do what the Kyanite does by myself. It took everything I had not to scream at him that if I’d ever been able to do what the kyanite does, I’d never be using a silly freaking ROCK to do it FOR me.

    I am godridden… and then some. And it affects my health. I am in pain, daily. I wake up in pain, I go to sleep in pain, I sleep poorly because I am in pain. The world sings through me. Every cell, every atom, from the center of the bang outwards, each with their own unique part in the symphony. Add the astral realms, the Godrealms, the entities and spirits, add humans and trees and grass and stars and rocks and walls… it’s a CEASELESS barrage of sound and emotion, information that no one really NEEDS to know… slowly frying my brain.

    As I have read your work… I have come to understand…

    I am not alone. Not in being touched by things so much larger than me… and not in the pain or the glory that results.

    Please… PLEASE IGNORE YOUR DETRACTORS. Please keep writing. Please.

  2. Maia said,

    Dear Del,

    I’ve been reading both your blogs for a month or so now and today I feel moved to write and thank you. Sexgodsetc in particular is one of the sources that has been most helpful in fumbling my way through my first steps towards priesthood. And unlike some of my study, it is not only a duty to read but a pleasure.

    I salute your courage, integrity, and skill in articulating subjects that defy expression in words. Not to mention your wonderful humour and reverent irreverence, which often has me hooting out loud.

    I know you know from higher authority that what you are doing is necessary and that you’re doing a damn fine job. But I hope some sincere respect and appreciation from across the Atlantic may bring a moment of cheer during your hospital ordeal. Because of what you have taken the time and trouble to do, I am more confident in being who I am without apology, less afraid of the darkness and hopefully more useful in service in the long term. Thank you.

    May you have the very best possible outcome in terms of your health and may your Gods hold you safely in their hands.


  3. Heather Freysdottir said,

    Oh, no, you’re right, it IS despicable to mine a blog about medical issues for lulz. But people can be assholes, unfortunately. For a long time I didn’t have a name for my medical condition either, and even now, reading DfD does help deal with feeling isolated due to disability. Very few people write honestly about how much it sucks to know that your friends are off doing wheee!fun stuff while you’re too sick to travel or play, or that well-meaning people will tell you that you shouldn’t wear yourself out because you get worse…but that it’s a kind of half life to feel “okay” and not do anything meaningful. How is that a real life?

    So I guess what I really mean is “thank you.”

  4. jubrew said,

    I personally am glad you came and shared your story with us! You showed us another side of things that wasn’t lies and gritting and I have followed your story since then. Threadspruce for lyfe, yo!

  5. Tirani said,

    So mote it be. I praise your name for sharing your journey. When I walked in the depths of my own struggle with chronic pain, your courage and strength helped me to screw up my own to face down fear. I don’t think I have ever thanked you for that, so now I do. Thank you. You and yours are in my thoughts and prayers nighty. I pray for wisdom for those that treat your illness, compassion in the hearts of those who soothe your pain, strength in the will of those who surround you, and discreenment for you, as you have asked.

  6. Tracy Rydzy, MSW, LSW said,

    Thank you for your bravery…when I write I try to do as you do, talk about the scary stuff, the stuff no one thinks they should be allowed to sy so they stay quiet and suffer alone. Thank you for speaking up

  7. Jami Grey said,

    I read your blog, not to get pleasure from your pain/illnesses, but because it makes me feel that someone, somewhere, understands how I feel mentally due to all the different injuries, surgeries, and mental health issues I have faced. It makes me see that perhaps this is suppose to be something more than what it appears at first glance, but I am nowhere near to being spiritual. It could be that Someone wants me to wake up, but I feel blind and deaf to Whomever is speaking to me. Yesterday I had to go back to a psychiatrist for the first time in a couple of years to be assigned a mental health worker. I was anxious and panicked at the same time, and when I came home I cried for a while. I don’t want to go through this again, I’ve had too many bad experiences with social workers or therapists, and I hate the fact that I can’t get over past experiences and now have new issues since I’ve been inside the condo with little outside exposure for 2 years (nothing to what you have been dealing with, but for myself it is a big deal) and now I panic when I have to go out in public.

    I have so often questioned “why me” but have yet to receive an answer, or I have not ‘heard’ the answer.

    I follow you not because I can point and say that “here is someone worse off than I” but because I can feel a bit of solidarity to your plight. Every time I read one of your posts here, I always look to see how you cope with all of it, and the answer seems to be both the support from those that love you, and the support from your Gods/Goddess. I don’t want to say I envy you, because that is not the right word to use. Maybe it should be more that I wish I could find the spiritual side to what I am dealing with to help comfort me and allow me to know that there is a reason I am going through all this, because if it’s all for naught, then I ask again, why me?

    I hope your surgery is successful, however you want to define the word. I do feel as if I am learning something from your post, in the very least to have more compassion for others and not drown myself in my own head all the time.

    Warm Regards,
    Jami (allura)

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