Dyslexia For Cure Found

August 14, 2008

What the deuce? 79 people viewed this blog yesterday! 79!?!?!?! Thank you, whoever you are, if you’re spreading the word.


Today’s blog is all about pride – pride in ourselves and our actions. I have heard from a number of people recently – in email, telephone conversations and in person – and there’s a whole lot of beatin’ yourselves up goin’ on, and frankly, it’s pissing me off.


Let me assure you of one thing – I don’t have assholes for friends. So, today, at some point, I want you to do something, and if you don’t do it, then… erm… you’re not allowed to read my blog any more. That’s it – I’m cutting you off. And for those people reading this who have no idea who I am or what the hell I’m talking about, you are unwittingly part of a rather sacred and wonderful group of people, and so you can do this too.


Do this:


  1. Make a list of 3 things you have done in the last week that have made you proud of yourself – it can be as big or as insignificant as you like. (eg. Mine are: called my Great Aunt, and made arrangements to take her out, offered advice to a friend in need, and one other thing I’ll talk about in a minute)
  2. Find a mirror
  3. Stand in front of it
  4. Take a good look into your own eyes – don’t look away, or look at what is going on around you
  5. Read aloud the things you have listed. Read them as loud as it takes for you to soak them in.
  6. Now, look back into your eyes, and tell yourself this: ‘I am a good person’.


Don’t procrastinate, don’t sit back and pretend to struggle for things to write – your dark side will love that – just write the fucking things down. If you’ve got more than 3 – wonderful! If you’re anything like me, when you do this, you’ll cry like a little bitch. But crying is good. If you’re a man, you might want to do something like big game hunting, or build a car engine to feel more masculine, but don’t fight back the tears. Tears are all that bad shit coming out of your body – let them fall.


And if you do that, and it makes you feel better, feel free to tell me about it. I’d love to hear your experiences.


Jesus H. Pyjama Party, I am in a wonderful mood today. How are you all? Have you been watching the Olympics? No, me neither really. All the good sports are still to come. I did try and watch the fencing – but it’s hardly laced with Count of Monte Cristo-esque romance and poise; more Robocop than Romeo and Juliet. Lots of blinking lights and blunted swords. Rubbish.


So anyway, yes, my other thing that tells me I am a good person today.


Marissa and I met about… oh… two years ago now. Marissa was an American student here, and we immediately fell for each other. We were, I guess, in ‘love’ – which for her meant she loved me, and for me meant utter panic, and the usual pushing someone away (give me space, I’m scared) just to pull them back in again. (tell me I’m loveable)


Poor old Marissa. I treated her like absolute dirt. I cheated, lied, deceived and basically reduced her to an emotional wreck, all for my own gratification and for the joy of manipulating someone. I was a complete bastard to her.


Of course, while I accept full responsibility for what happened between us, I also recognise that I was in the throws of a number of unconscious patterns, and, as much as I knew what I was doing, I also… didn’t. A prime example would be when she finally returned to America, and things looked as though they were over. I had made it clear that I couldn’t afford the trip to see her (which was a lie)  but, when it emerged that someone she previously had a ‘thing’ with had declared his intentions, I was on the next plane (almost quite literally) laden with gifts to ‘win her back’. Of course, the whole relationship was doomed anyway – with or without my apparent lack of honesty – as Miami to London is quite the commute.


Anyway, those were the sorts of lengths I would go to once upon a time. I can but look at the screen and shake my head as I document my actions in those dark days.


I hurt Marissa, and hurt her badly. She kept running back to me because of her own patterns of needing to be loved, but it was no excuse for my reprehensible behaviour. And so, dear friends, yesterday, I decided to make amends – though I should stress that this has been on my mind for a while.


This is what I sent Marissa yesterday, verbatim:


From: David Levy
Sent: Wednesday, August 13, 2008 9:16 AM
To: Marissa


Hi Marissa


How are you doing? It has been some time since we’ve spoken.


Whether or not you chose to reply to this is totally up to you. You’re the one piece of unfinished business I have in the life I have now left behind, and I wanted to write what I am about to write because I think its important.


As you may or may not remember, recently, I went on a course called The Hoffman Process. I was going because yet another therapist had basically failed to help me, and I was – as you well know by now – a terribly mixed up and troubled person, with some uncontrollable urges which were particularly bad.


I just wanted to write to you to apologise to you, really. The course changed my life. I recognised the impulsive consumption of people (especially women) and saw that actually, it was anchored in deep insecurity from my lack of father and unloving mother. Really, Marissa, you put up with a lot of rubbish from me, and it is a great credit to the person you are that you did that.


Like I said, Marissa, this email is just to say sorry – sorry for the lies, the deceit and the manipulation. I played with your emotions in ways I am not proud of, and I hope, honestly, sincerely and truthfully, that you are finding great joy and happiness in your life – you absolutely deserve it.


I realise that a lot of time has passed, but if there was anything lingering, or any anger you have about what happened that affects you now, or perhaps something you’re just curious about, please do feel free to ask me. I realise we’re probably never going to be friends, but if there’s a way I can help, it really would be my pleasure to do so.


All the love in the world to you and your family





And that, dear readers, was that. I did get a reply, but that one’s just for me. Nonetheless, when all was said and done, I was proud of myself. I was proud that I could stand up to those things I have done, and know that I am at the very least aware of what drives this behaviour – and that is something to take great comfort in.


Friends, the world turns, and we are but specks on it. Imagine everyone around you as mere strands of DNA, but instead of the building blocks of life, these strands represent all our shared problems, patterns and desires. Take a look at your own today as you stand in front of the mirror, and remind yourself this: you are a good person.


Until tomorrow, this is a proud and good person signing off for the day.


Lots of love

Closed Box


3 Responses to “Dyslexia For Cure Found”

  1. Valerie Atherton's Playground and Intellectual Department Says:

    Hi David!
    You asked me to read your blog, so here I am!
    I do the mirror thing all the time and it is such a great way to empower yourself. I spend so much time getting ready in the morning, anyway, so I figure I might as well have some good things to say while I’m there. 🙂


  2. Neil Manchester Says:

    Good man David, with whatever car you are driving now, this is the positive motivational blog we all need.
    I’ve written my three things down, and am stripping off to stand in front of the mirror (down boy, it’s only me!). I’m feeling better already!!

  3. Virgil Hart Says:

    I wrote my 3 things, I found the mirror, I stood infront of it, and I looked myself in the eyes, and I said:


    I shouted racist abuse at a black man because he was obnoxious to me, and I knew it would hurt him, and I had no moral qualms doing it.” – I had to stop for a moment to stifle laughter, it was quite a glorious moment for me, and I was very proud of it.

    “I stepped away from an obviously homosexual man and said to him “don’t come near me you homo, I don’t want to catch your gay!”

    I punched a woman

    I am a good person…”

    All these things I’m proud of.

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