The Beast Inside Of Me. (Accepting and being proud of what I am.)

Discussion in 'Rants, Musings and Ideas' started by Firelord, Apr 16, 2010.

  1. Firelord

    Firelord Active Member

    Inside of me there is a beast. When I was younger and when people hurt me too much, I developed a frightening side. When the other students at school belittled me, beat me and hurt me again and again me a primal creature was developing, growing inside of me. Every blow emotionally and physically they struck made it stronger and stronger until one day it attained the power it needed to come forward.

    Some times it showed hints of being there. In sixth grade when a student far larger then myself was fighting me, the beast took hold. Every blow he landed sent me down to the floor, but every time the beast would pull me up. Again and again the beast rose as the larger, fatter kid struck again and again. No amount of damage could keep me down and when the teacher finally intervened the fat kid was losing energy and the beast was ready to strike.

    In the locker room when three older students jumped me and beat me black and bloody, the beast kept making me stand up, taking the punishment, surging forward under each blow, weathering them and looking for a moment to strike. Once again the intervention of another student kept the beast back.

    Sitting on the bench outside the nurses office after attacking, waiting for my parents, the three moved by laughing at me. The beast tried to take hold of me again, but I fought it off and stayed sitting.

    Finally when a fellow student followed me calling me names in the hallway one fall day during my second day in eighth grade, it awoke. It went after the boy, grabbing him and tossing him down the flight of stairs. The boy thankfully landed on his feet and ran way. The incident was reported and I agreed to be sent to a school for violent youth where I was supposed to be helped. What I didn't know is that the cruel policies at the school would awaken the beast fully.

    For the first year that I was there, the beast was standing with me. Students that missbehaved and resisted authority were to be restrained. The beast and I were restrained countless times. I was thirteen years old, but with the beast at my side it took multiple grown men to hold me down.

    One time the beast grabbed hold when a fellow student, a girl I was closed to was being restrained by one of the teachers. The girl was sexually abused in the past by her father and the man was holding her between his legs. The beast awoke, furious and almost caved the man's skull in, who ducked out of the way just in time from the kick. That day it took eight full grown men to drag me and the beast into the restraining room, but they couldn't hold me and the beast down. They piled against the door until my father came, the only person the beast and I respected, who talked with me and calmed me down.

    At the end of eighth grade the beast would awaken after I had been locked outside and picking up a stick the beast and I would smash open the window and climb through. The cops were called, but instead of arresting me they sat down and talked with me. It was settled out of court and I preformed community service for the actions.

    The beast after that incident would start to go into hibernation after I was moved into another classroom with kinder staff. The policies were still cruel, but the staff were more understanding. Sometimes the beast and I would come into conflict again, but I had better control of the beast. The beast would be held back from hurting those that were kind to me. Sometimes the beast would come out in other activities, like physical education and outdoor activities. Once the beast and I climbed a mountain together, we have climbed them many times since.

    The last times the beast was fully awaken was during the last couple of weeks of my time at the school. Once when a staff tried to keep me in the time out room after leaving the classroom early to get to a bus, the beast turned on the door and with a side kick, launched it open and the three hundred pound staff off of it. The beast and I didn't try to escape, we were happy enough with the surprised look the staff gave.

    Another time, a friend of mine was in an altercation with a larger student at the school during my last day. The larger student went after the friend and the beast got up and kicked him against the wall. The beast warned him, told him to back off or else and the larger kid listened, afraid of the beast. Everybody by then either feared or respected the beast.

    Over the years I have come to the realization.

    There is still inside of me and will never go away. It is the part of me that didn't want to lie down, that did not want to go the way of modern rules and laws. It's the part of me that wants to hurt others that hurt myself and others I care for. The part of me that wants to do horrible things to those that hurt others. It is a part left over from a more primal, honest age that I have more in touch with because of my past experiences and because of the time spent out in nature.

    The beast is the part of me that will not let those they love get hurt, will not give up, will fight for what it believes in until death and is afraid of no living man or woman. The beast is the part of me that urges me forward in life, that keeps me standing and holding onto hope when things look grim.

    I can not be a cop, because the beast would hurt those that hurt others. To the beast, the only way to deal with those that take pleasure among hurting the innocent is death. I can not be a fireman, because the beast would not stop going into the flames to save others. I can not work in a prison, for each man that the beast considers guilty he would kill. I can not be a psychologist, for each person that harms one of my patients the beast would hunt down and leave as a bloody example to those that would repeat that persons wrongs.

    The beast is a savage, but he is a noble savage. He helps others that need it, he offers friendship to those that do not have it and he fights fiercely to protect innocents that he does not know. The beast can not be intimidated, the beast can not be scared and the beast is willing to die for what he believes in.

    The beast is in me.

    The beast... is me.

    And I wouldn't have it any other way.
     
  2. Sa Palomera

    Sa Palomera Well-Known Member

    So I read this and in a way it made me go :blink:
    Must be pretty hard for you to struggle like that, with what you call 'the beast' inside you. But at least you're at peace with it and you have somewhat control over it.

    I know I have an aggressive side to me, kind of like your beast, but nowhere near as present as what you wrote about. It costs me a lot of energy at times to fight the aggressive side, and so I respect the fact that you can restrain yourself from getting aggressive, or as you say the beast from coming out.
    Respect for that.

    I hope you'll find a way to live without having to constantly fight the beast from coming out, that you find love in your environment so much that the beast will never want to come out, because trust me, I'm talking from experience when I say, it's not good to have your aggressive side show like that.

    :hug:
     
  3. Things

    Things Well-Known Member

    There's a sick part of me that wished you could've managed to hurt that teacher.

    This was an inspiring read in some ways, and very engaging. It's true, we all have a beast in ourselves. We can't destroy it, we have to live with it, for we can't survive with out it either. The best we can do is learn a balence, let the beast out when the situation calls for it.

    ...I'm probably not making a bit of sense right now. :p

    You know, you should should be an author. You'd be very good at it, if you're not one already.

    This vaguely reminds me of a commercial I saw once. I can't seem to find it anymore though. It was about an autistic child with anger issues, and he described himself as having a monster that would sometimes "lash out" when people push him too far.
     
  4. plates

    plates Well-Known Member


    I'm a lot like this. When I was a child, "the beast" as you say, would protect a lot of women in this house and jump in between fights in school, to break up any harm done. My last therapist called it "a panther", I call it the "girl in the corner." I do this a lot now through getting involved in community activism. I'm becoming more aware, of what it is that keeps me alive and realising, yeah. There are times, I want to murder and kill a few people, instead of myself, what's wrong with that? The images of torture I frighten me because I've been so self destructive in the past- "the beast" as you say would be internalising and self destructing, and I'm unused seeing that violence go the other way. I read recently that this is a very natural process for the CNS system to process trauma: to realise and process, the fear of hurting onself or another, rather than being stuck in a fear-immobilisation trap. It seems hurting oneself is more noble in some MH communities where nothing is being said, rather than realising what that violence can do for the better, if channelled well.

    What you're describing is a pure survival instinct to protect yourself and others from the people who are in a position of power over others and have hurt them- not only that, you're very aware of the repurcussions if you got into certain professions. This is called personal responsibility, and you sound like you have a lot of it. I can relate to everything you said, only- I didn't fight back physically as much, it was more psychologically. "The beast" as you say, came out with me a lot last year in a lot of violence through me sticking up for my life with people who were hurting me or hurt me. I then started to love and look after myself, all that internalised violence got channelled rightly, away from me after years of death. I felt that rage and it was beautiful- only I try everything not to hurt anyone around me physically.


    I'm aggressive when I see death, fight with death but I'm not ashamed. I don't dissociate that part of myself, I see it as very intrinsic to my life, and like you, I wouldn't have it any other way. There's a great deal of beauty in realising that and what you can do with that without hurting other people. Which is where I am at in my life. Putting images, sound, music and written word to what you're describing is powerful beyond belief.
     
    Last edited by a moderator: Apr 18, 2010