Rooted in Damage

My art has always been a form of therapy for me. I don’t mean to sound like a cliché, but traditional psychotherapy just never got the job done. As first girlfriend was a psychiatric nurse, I literally had intimate experience with the field. It became obvious that drugs do nothing productive for the so-called “personality disorders.” Talking it out may seem to help, but any relief is only temporary.

Finally, I reached my breaking point. I realized that my mind had been twisted by years of abuse and that the development of mental defense mechanisms only compounded the problem. I needed to find another way, any way, of repairing the damage. I turned to the most immediate solution I’d heard of — occultism: methods of uncovering hidden, often discomforting truths.

Realizing exactly where (who) my problems had come from, it became very apparent that the cycle of abuse channels downward. Cowards prey upon the weak, but they may not be conscious of why. Sickened by this awareness, I reversed the flow, telepathically channeling all the negativity that had been inculcated into me directly back to its sources. The results achieved blew my mind. Suddenly the veil was lifted. I’d caught a glimpse of the puppet master at work.

Dropping emotional baggage was a tremendous relief, but it was only the beginning. There was still much to be done if I was to reverse my damage. I started studying a variety of philosophies, religions, and self-help methods to augment my experience with psychology and occultism. The most profound system I discovered was L. Ron Hubbard’s Dianetics, which led into Scientology.

Scientology

I found Dianetics/Scientology was more like Eastern religion, more like a philosophy and an alternative to psychology than a dogmatic, mundane Western-style religion. Even though words like occultism, Satanism, and Scientology send most folks running for the hills, it’s different for someone who’d been through what I had. The damage was undeniable. It had only been obscured and compounded by psychologists who obviously had no idea how to solve even their own problems. Scientology, on the other hand, actually presented a workable equation. But it would not be easy.

It had become difficult to trust anyone. Over time, I found that many of my so-called friends (even family) would only bide their time until they found an opportunity to steal money, invariably disappearing immediately after the heist. This happened so many times that I largely gave up on friends, preferring isolation to the company of phonies. For this reason, along with the notorious reputation of groups like the Church of Scientology, I always decided to go it alone, performing self-therapy.

As a method of therapy, Scientology (in concert with other knowledge) actually worked. It reawakened creativity that had lied dormant since childhood. It taught me not to sublimate trauma, as the human mind is accustomed to, but to face the ugly parts of myself. In fact, mental reprogramming techniques required more than facing your most painful experiences, but focusing intensely upon them, repeatedly reliving the agony. At some point, after processing an acutely painful memory over and over again, the repressed memory engram will actually refile itself into the conscious memory banks. Its subliminal, subconscious control over your mind and everyday life comes to an end. This may be a rocky road, but I’ve found that this process actually gets lasting, powerful results.

Finally, I applied what I’d learned to my art. From years of abuse and the methods I learned to remedy it, Regressionism was born. Being inspired by painful/repressed memories, I hope my art will inspire others to face their own traumas, whether on the personal level or on the group dynamics.