What IS Reality?!

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It is but a dream, a perception of the senses that create a chemical compound to create an image or emotion. Like music in a car or a motion picture. How is it that the “energy” from a computer chip creates a sound or an image that creates a real emotion? But it’s not in front of you, yet this emotion from the music or movie feels real. It pulls you in, you get into a funk after a sad or crazy one, one that makes you think. 

So what different in a trauma of a dream, and real life? This is in my head – all the senses penatrating my brain. Sight, smell, taste, touch and hearing. All of my dreams are real. How is it that I can’t determine the real world and the dream world? I wake up to a familiar scene but that familiar scene can be one of a “reoccurring dream” so I implore what is the real reality? Isnt it that a scene is so monumental in a movie that it’s pulls you closer into the screen? You can’t turn away because of the depth of your feelings – you have no idea who or what is around you – only this moment in a movie. It’s a moment in my mind of these senses that captivate me in this world. How is it that I feel like I can feel other worlds? 
They exist, I’m not talking about aliens, yes those are quite possible – but I’m not all about it, obsessed that they do, I entertain the thought because how is it that I could ever know? Honestly? How is it that I know anything? How can my brain store more or less than yours? How does someone remember something but not another? Chemicals, emotions, feelings. It’s the self. This ego, this soul.  

I, I, i, i, i…. me me ME! That’s how. This is hell. This reality in which we are punished from oneness. 

Dreams; hell. Senses; hell. Life; hell. 

I’m the Bible it says hell is a burning firing pits. That pit in your stomach? That heat when you’re angry? Anger is love’s fear. God IS love. Anger is the separation from God. So here I am living in this hell with only a glimpse of what true love really is. What GOD is. What I’m meant to be – with God. Not as a me or I, but as in love morphed into nothingness and everythingness with God. Because we are made in his “image” in which our human language can’t properly communicate. 

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Papers to Describe Me

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He gave me two stacks of paper. This man in a white coat holds the power to label my insanity. He tells me to go back to my room and read them to see which one I thought discribed me better… how am I supposed to know? He’s the doctor anyway. I held in my hands this banquet of words lined perfectly with pictures of sad women and men, looking out of a window trying to escape their mind, when I feel all they really want is to escape slavery. 

I gentlely grip the papers as he continues to speak to me in mindless words that seem to be a manuscript for all the inpatients. I feel as though every smile ever expressed on my face is now falling with my down turned lips. The gravity of society, pulls them away from the gentle crows feet wrinkles from my eyes that I so willingly expressed as a child. Running through the woods singing with the birds and absorbing all the suns rays through the canopy. As I breath in now to find I’m stuck with barred windows and bolted doors and I wish I could be free. 

Not just free from this prison of “sanity”, by this cookie cutter of humans this medication turns me into. I don’t want to be normal. I want to live! I want to feel alive. Not the alive you get with an adrenaline rush the alive feeling that comes with being free to choose, without laws and regulations. I feel like I knew that time. I feel like I still know. Like I’m waiting for a ship to become visible to take me away to my real home. 

Yet, I sit in this seat across this man telling me what I am, not who I am, in this description of how people should act in this society. Fuck that. 

Rage begins to boil inside my being. I want to reach across the room and rip the man apart who talks in a monotone voice, with no reason, about who he thinks I am. I want to scream and tell him to shut the fuck up, to ask him if he even knows he’s being a conformist to a “man” who no one sees. 

All my muscles relax before I show him my rage and I’m stuck in this hole longer than I’m gifted. My whole body relaxes, it’s like poison running through my veins paralyzingly me, burning holes and leaking my life force out into my muscles. They want so badly to contract, but my brain shuts out the will to move. I’m frozen with anger. I’m frozen to society’s grip on me. 

I finally hear something that’s like “you’re free to go”. Free?! How is going back out of your office into a hall wall with other locked rooms free?  Unlike some of the patients here I am not threatening enough to be in a straight jacket, but this level of the building I don’t think anyone is straight jacketed. 

One person I remember screaming and yelling one night. I feared he would come into my room, hurt me. Rape me. My mind wandered to the possibilities of what he could do before any of the nurses could get to him, and even if they could, would they be able to stop him? Panic filled me with escape routes. I couldn’t escape. Illogical imagination  filled my head with what would happen. The next day I wake up with no recollection of ever falling asleep. What happened to him? To me? What is this place? He wasn’t anywhere to be seen in any of the groups or therapies. And as my mind wonders it becomes unrealistic. 

They took him away to the lower level below ground where no screams can be heard and they practice illegal treatments to reduce rage in “the rebellious” for the coming when we all uprise against “the man” and take back our Mother…

Okay I’m laying down again. But as I lay in my bed the papers are still in my hand unaware until now. I sit up again. My memory of this is fogged. I feel as though I’m locked in a room filled with a single light to give me a dimmed view of the words. I’m locked in a cell with no way to see, hear or speak to the outside world. I’m confined to a lonely chair with a Lonely table. Cold Shackles cross my arms and feet. I can’t move till I finish these nonsensical paragraphs of who I am being labeled as. He wants me to tell him later which stack of paper describes me the best, as I believe I am. 

As I read these papers I’m filled with the belief I am those things.  I’m a “borderline” I have PTSD. Both of them fit who I am, what makes me. The chain breaks and I am released back into my room. I believe what he says. 
There’s therapy session after therapy session, and after those; groups and things to learn to put in our tool box to fit into society better. 

I walk out of my room. Groups and therapy are mandatory your first inpatient visit. I slump, head down, defeated. Shoulders turned inward. I hated this place even more. My child inside kicks and screams as I repressed her; she cries to be set free. To rebel. I silence her. She can not live here. 

Being Pulled From Reality

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Time seems to be speeding up as I will soon face plant into a brick wall, then continue on through it. It feels like falling but without reaching terminal velosity.

When you fall normally, it feels as though you are leaving the place in which you stood. You’re being separated from the stable ground to the dyer attempts to stand again. You fall to your side with a heavy head to plunge face forward. You normally don’t feel the pull of the gravity that pulls you from where you stood. You think of loosing your balance and simply falling fretfully but here I was pulled from stability. 

A while ago when I lived on the west coast of USA, I turned into someone I fear to this day. A woman that didn’t take life seriously, who would rather die than to face reality. 

As the moon rose in the sky and her face pressed against the push of wind from the rawring ocean, her tears went dry as did her mind. Numb and alone. Hair follicules stood at attention to the push off the winter wind.  Waves crashed onto the beach and surrounding rocks; she stepped forward. Her mind blank and focused, she smelled the salty condensed air of the Pacific Ocean, the moonlight tinkling the waves as they ricocheted off the large rocks, she continued forward. Into the freezing ocean she walked, she felt her boots fill up with thickening desire. Initializing shock from the water, her body made the attempt to stay warm and shiver but her mind refused to shake. Like the sinking titanic, water began to rise with no possible outlet. Her mind was her sinking ship, why not have a body to fit? 

Unsteadily she tripped over coral reefs towards the towering rocks filling her jacket with a salty calm, her eyes fixed on the Boulder ahead. With her feet numb, she forced herself up on the neighboring boulder. She rose out of the sea while the tide came in violently crashing onto her rock. The darkness did not show her the space between the rock and her target boulder and she slipped between them. Her throat filling with ocean and the waves pouring on top of her. She grasped for the rock and slowly climbed. The cold rock stealing the little warmth from her body through her hands, she reached the top. Shivering from the short journey she looked down around her at the waves growing to pull her into their home. To make her one with the sea at last. They cheered for her bravery, the ocean audience grew louder as her decision was made final. 

She closed her eyes and swayed with the wind remembering all her desires scuba diving to be one with the sea. She smiled at those memories to be put to sleep. Even more memories came penetrating her thoughts of warmth with clouded skies and black cold. She quickly opened her eyes yet the darkness sourrounded her. That darkness of cold and of skies. The numbing darkness she felt when she began.

She looked out past the crashing waves onto the horizon where calm overtook her. She paused and for the first time felt relief. Beyond the crashing of the waves and the push of violent, cold winds, she saw peace. She saw a glimmer of hope. But again looking down the waves calling to her; just one step they said as they sprayed there cold welcoming onto her face. Just one slip and you’ll be home. 
She looked out again now conflicted with hope and desire. A hope for calm, and a desire for a peaceful end. But how peaceful would that end be? Being pushed into rocks until she fell unconscious only to wake up to her choking on her decision to go down with no way out – a divers worse fear. She turned for the first time and looked back toward the beach. Her stomach was uneasy. Her boots squished as she adjusted her weight from one foot to the other, a cold shiver went up her spine. She closed her eyes tight. She had lost her mind. 

Peace on Earth

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The relativity of time, the balance of life. The perceptions of each and the ghosts of the things unknown. Living in a world full of misunderstandings and teachings of absurdity. We misunderstand because one “has to be right”; it’s “my way or the high way”  I feel there’s little acceptance of any of it. Respect the nature of all existence, of all people, of all and any life – including that of the smallest insect. Who am I to take or to judge or to hate? It’s your way, but I have mine – don’t send me to the high way because it’s not the same as our way. I’ll still see you on the other side regardless of endless bliss, heaven, nirvana, joy, love, peace where ego, self, space and time are no longer in existence to any matter (and I mean that as physical and rational matter). We are all here to experience. Simple but complex. Peace is every breath, and every moment between. 

Reminders

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I have to keep reminding myself. I overcame alot. I can do this. I don’t need any more help besides my own. I can do this. When I feel like failing I have to remember that a knife won’t help me. Seeing my body won’t allow me to heal. It’s me wanting my insides outside. It’s a physical way to express something inside needs help. I need to reflect and allow whatever emotions out. I need to let myself be not afraid.

It’s because I’m afraid of the person I am inside. I’m a good person full of love and hope. Every time I’m conflicted I have to remember my life is reason enough to live. Life is my present to myself to heal my soul. Healing crisis.

I got a trager massage and did zero balancing…. I think I’m getting after effects of it. This healing crisis that follows wasn’t bad until 4 days later… Why is that? Did I loose my insight of reflection to give !myself? How can I allow myself and my inner emotions out? I need to find my way. I feel like what I’m doing is pointless… Like this life is pointless I don’t understand why I have to submit to others. I want to be as free as a molecule in outer space and be free floating. Always giving and combining with others to help a greater cause… I don’t feel like I’m contributing enough….

I don’t know really. Just this…

The Full Moon and Crazy Awesome Dream

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So this weekend is supposed to be when the moon is the closest to the earth, and it’s supposed to be a visionary, healing moon. I have to go outside and meditate when this moon arrives. I need to be there to see if I get a vision, or if it brings up any hidden secrets, or if it shows me something. It could possibly heal my mental aliments and guide me to some where new. Speaking of guiding, I had a dream last night of what I believe it to be a Phoenix, and according to Dreammoods.com it represents, transformation, immortality and renewal. You are moving toward a new phase in your life. It may also mean that your past continues to haunt you.

What was amazing is the pheonix was an AMAZING light blue color and according to dreammoods.com; The presence of this color in your dream may symbolize your spiritual guide and your optimism of the future.

When I looked up to see if there was a real bird like this I found the near-threatened and uncommon Resplendent Quetzal, which has a picture attached. from http://www.besgroup.org/2014/03/28/resplendent-quetazal-pharomachrus-mocinno/

When you look up what they mean, they were known for goodness, light and by the Maya, guides. So either way, I saw my spirit guide last night in my dream. Wow, talk about amazing. I wonder if the full moon has already began to show me what I need to see and give me direction to where I need to go and who I need to be.

Ever since I started school I have never felt more in the right pace as I do now. I’ve been to 4 different colleges and tried many things in life, but nothing ever stood out or made me feel like “this is it” but now I feel like “THIS IS IT”! ! ! ! I also met some one new. I didn’t think I would be able to date someone again for a long time, given the divorce and the old bf… I needed to work on myself but here I am, with this new found guide, this feeling of being exactly where I need to be and finding my way, even if it is small steps to greatness.

WOW! ! what a Transformation!

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SO It has been a long while since I have written in my blog. I have been on this incredible journey to bettering myself spiritually, I can say I have “recovered” from my ED. Although the thoughts still plague me they have no control. They are people who make comments but I try my best to ignore them. I love myself for who I am and what I have done. I live better in the moment. I am learning everyday to love myself and to be here for others. I’ve been through so much and now I want to help others. I can say for the last 5 months I have had TRUE growth within myself and I am happy to be alive!

As these thoughts wash through my mind all I do is allow them to pass, and as I have gained weight and it does “hurt” my pride, I have to also let that go. My ego and my pride can hurt me.

It’s not all fun and games all the time, I still struggle but I do not struggle as much, and through my struggles I grow. The best way to deal with mistakes is to learn from them and not do it again. I am still learning this to.

I have found an amazing family through networking and it has helped me grow even more. I try to meditate everyday. I believe in a previous post I posted that I was going to start mediation in attempts to alleviate my anxiety and depression, well its worked. I also have read many books on my journey through meditation. I now believe in the Oneness within the world and I am living each day.

Lately I have been going through a “weird” time. I know its growth I just haven’t figured it out yet so it’s taxing. I’ve learned so much and it’s hard to absorb it all at once. HAHA!

Some books I have read to help me grow, but in spirit and in mental health.

The 4 Agreements by Don Miguel Ruiz (plus the Voice of knowledge, and the 5th agreement and the mastery of love)

Zen Mind Beginnners mind.

The 3 Pillars of zen

Osho books – all of them are good but I am currently reading Love Freedom Aloneness.

I am also reading abook on mindfulness.

I turned vegan as well in support of my “Be the Change in the world you want to see” Giving up food wasn’t the hard part it’s the realization to the fact of what we are doing to the planet, animals and life on earth- it’s destroying us!