The first part of the next page is on events at the bank.

The second part is about what really was still continually going on inside me.

I'd like to emphasize that the second part is more than just about a fling gone wrong. I'd like to think that it documents the main topic of what happens when there is no room for trust to grow.

Hoping to shape rough-and-raw writing into something more readable, I may have still missed the mark. The potential for me to get so hurt existed already and wasn't nearly as sewn up as I thought. There is a chance that maybe constant rumination is all this is.

Essentially in some frames of reference, particulars and specifics are superfluous in light of the underlying processes. When a grip is achieved on what those processes could involve, at least to a degree, then the particular details sound trite and unfair towards the pain existing in others.

Some details revelant in other reference frames, which I initially reneged on supplying at all, are here to be heard. Upon reviewing the page, I am actually thankful that the extent to which I hurt, given the situation, just does not come through. Getting lost in the trivial has allowed me my own place and peaceful acceptance, partially by way of seeing the limitations of what I can impart through my writing skills, by virtue of trying to do so responsibly, and then by realizing further beyond words about what feelings entail. The formidable process dynamics, I hope, show how grace can be afforded on all those involved.

I then thought I saw at the time many further reasons why continuing to present this could be informative.

I guess I was attempting to serve a reminder of the glib old wisdom that what might seem important by looking at someone, hides a plethora of other stuff in any given individual. Thus, highlighting still a place for privacy, specifically here in respect of what cannot be known by casual onlookers. The situation also eventually better related privacy for me to what was becoming painfully blurring and unconsructively loosening ways of viewing autonomy, discernment, emotional maturity and understanding. I've always wanted to be able to live compassionately, and wanted to regain the strength I once had to do so. Did the gelling together of all of this have to become a blur as I did more in life?

I want to reiterate a thousand times that education and fostering a healthy development of all these sorts of things entails much more than blithering-on about self-esteem and patronizing speils on having rights, empowerment and in being sexual. I found growing up that it was hard to ensure that I got past all the gee whizz and the bloody damn obvious. I believe that a considerable amount of people have been hurting more than what they might otherwise, from trying to prove just what already is.

I can't really believe how, in effect, I had been condemning objectification of animals and the environment all my life, but when it came to me, I thought my feelings just did not matter. I believed I could just block these off and carry on with life. I thought this was a sign of strength. I could see what a lack of emotional modulation and continuity was doing to others, how they were almost proud in how much they kept going to extremes. It made sense in the past as a teenager, but then I just became increasingly tired.

I write very much as a layperson, who has had to delve into attachment theory and the dynamics of shame, supplemented in the background by knowing of advantages and disadvantages with thinking in terms of autopoetic wholes. Modern gestalt and recent cognitive approaches have been simmering away too. The arrival of a greater eclecticism beyond all this theory as I age has been a welcoming calm to me personally.

I first thought that what I've written on the next page (and on pages elsewhere) can be viewed as a case study of what can happen. It was never put in a form in which the above considerations can be readily uplifted and applied without further thought. Moreover, it used to matter so much to me then to point out that there was absolutely no way in the world that I wanted to be construed as endorsing any universal and solidly fixed value system at all - as I have always believed that would severely limit any chance we have of ever-deepening understandings of life in front of us.

In my situation, I endured the raging that I did come across, because I thought better communication would win out in the end. Everything was made to seem like nothing had happened so quickly after a rageful event - so much so that even I, as the recipient individual involved, started to doubt what did happen. Thus rendered inarticulate, and floundering for words, the grounds upon which one barely manages to find some semblance of understanding therefore can end up seeming very banal, stupid and trivial to advance. This is what I tried to describe earlier.