way that felt right was to go forward. The woman who rented us the apartment was a carbon copy of my mother. I could see them so clearly. And this is not to be confused with avoidance. I come back to the idea of surrendering. And above me, were three Shamans. No mistake that Simon and the tree had come together.
The blow of the wet frog.
Simon divines that I need two points of Kambo, because I am so sensitive. The restaurant we went to on the second night served oxtail soup, which is what my abuser fed me the first night I spent at his house. I am convinced that this is why receiving its signature is so beneficial for victims of abuse. It shows up unannounced. I was afraid it wouldnt work and the scientific skeptic in me (yes I actually have one of those) told me that I was merely poisoning myself and I would only feel good afterwards because of the number of endorphins running through my body. I got an intense migraine level headache. I cannot conceptualize of what just happened. He began yelling for help and struggling to breathe while purging. The energy was more that the frog had given it than that the people had taken. I give in to the feeling of being immobilized and lay in that feeling, accepting.