“My current relationship with my Shadow Self is a harsh, destructive, but respected love. I see it broadly as a fight to avoid slipping back into my ills and vices. Originally, I saw these parts of myself as bad, unworthy and the worst parts of myself. Despite my prior poor thoughts about my Shadow, I could shamelessly live within that darkness. I am aware that I thrive in my addictive qualities.”

“Please allow me to be lost in you. Maybe Peter Pan could take me there… I am exhausted. I renounce forcing myself to be present, to avoid ills. Let me drift and be numb, with just a pinch of pain to keep me alive. Wishing the rest of my time will no longer be spent choosing the horns or the halo.] Morals keep me from executing this selfish wish. For now I settle for glimpses in-between rounds of this maddening game I created. I am hovering from “it’s getting bad again” to “it will all be clear in a minute.”

“Historically, the individual and the masses have struggled with their shadow selves, and their ills, most notably from art history; the artists working during the Haussmannization of Paris. As a society we are constantly looking and being looked at, overstimulated by this knowledge. The marginalized darkness that contributes to everything surrounding shadows is understood when faced with the physical gaze of those who are numb.”

“Are the “darkest” parts of myself the parts I cherish the most? I wasn’t able to hold my enemy this close until I let her take the wheel when I needed her the most. I can in this moment, lie and say “I let her take control,” but in my darkest hour I am unable to predict the changing of the guard. I never know when I will slip into her sick comfort. I still wish at times I could stay drunk within her arms forever.”

“The hero’s main feat is to overcome the monster of darkness: it is the long-hoped- for and expected triumph of consciousness over the unconscious.” (Jung CW 9, P. 284).