Tuesday, December 19, 2017

911

I REALLY need to get things off my chest.

My life is a collection of little stories that aren't cohesive.  It's no wonder that half of my face no longer matches the other side.  Very few people who know me know anything about my "Fairy Tale life".  Which is odd because it is more relevant than my "normal life".  But if I don't pull this all together I won't heal.
This is making me anxious.  What is my resistance?

I spent late summer living in an RV at the Aztec National Park as a volunteer.  In September an Artist in Residence  who I will call A.I.R. moved next to me with her 10 month old daughter.  This was the family that I had been having Visions of for over 20 years.  I documented this Vision in a series of collages.   This Vision has been the dominate drive ever since and to have it land at my doorstep spun my head around.  What's going on now is probably because I still can not wrap my mind and soul around it.  You can not imagine how much shit I've gotten because of this drama.  I spend  Christmas by myself, usually drunk, because I am an embarrassment to my family. 
Meeting A.I.R. has validated my life.   I wasn't crazy.  ALL the pieces of the puzzle are in place.
Everything was purposeful.  It all makes sense now.  The last combination of the lock clicked.

I'm standing at the threshold of the opened door.

Meeting A.I.R. is important on many levels beside validating my sanity and I'll go into that soon but first I have to recalibrate my very existence.   I have lost everything by clinging to a Fairy Tale.

And this is the glass slipper moment.
 For me,  for A.I.R.   Her family.   Her Tribe.  Our country.  Reality.
This is significant because if THIS is true than All the Visions are  true.  And everything till now has been a fucking lie.   I see the disconnect in my face.  I feel it in my brain.  I'm watching it on the news.

When I lived in Santa Fe I kept running into psychics.  They are to Santa Fe what actor/waiters are to Los Angeles.  It's a weird town.
I was told I was a Book.  It didn't make sense at the time but now I realize what that means.  I'm not into drama and don't seek attention.  I'm not overstating the significance of this now.  But if part of this story is true then ALL of the story is true.

I've gone over in my head many times as to how to lay this out.  Probably ought to start at the beginning.  Why me?  That is not to say that there are not others with Stories.
 Looking back I realize why I was perfect.

I'm a Pisces/Leo Moon with no Earth signs in my chart which doesn't ground me well in Earth Reality.  Growing up in the days before TV I wasn't programmed like people are now by commercials.  And my IQ is over 180.
 I spent most of my time at my Grandmother's farm roaming the woods alone.  Lydia was a Christian Scientist who taught me that Mind Creates Reality.  That was my paradigm.   If I didn't feel well then it was pointless to bring it up.  I knew at a very young age that my Wellness was within me and my responsibility.
And I wasn't well.  I guess I was having seizures.  All I remember of it was being terrified going to sleep because I would "wander" and then terrified waking up with sleep paralysis and trying to scream for help but not being able to move.  My Grandmother was having dreams of me caught  under ice.   It must have been bad for them to take me to a doctor.

I can remember  a Chicago skyscraper elevator that went up for ever and the jolt to my stomach when it stopped. 
 They wired me up to an EEG.(< click) 

 It wasn't epilepsy.  They didn't know what it was, possibly brain damage at birth, and the solution was to put me on phenobarb.  It made the Terror worse.

This all made me extremely sensitive to the Vibe.  And crazy because everyone was fucking with me.  I would see "white" and they would say it was "black".   I was conditioned to detach.
 Man, am I having anxiety now.
In the story they are trying to break him down by "accepting" that there are 5 lights.

And this is why that happened.
My mother had me at 17.  When I was 32 her secret came out.  My father and I were playing pool and having beers and he said "Beth, I have to tell you something."   The Secret was that I had an older brother.  Now this implied several things.  I was lied to about my position in the family, and that something traumatic had happened to my mother.  I have great compassion for her.  However, I was the Symbol of all that was wrong.  Looking back it explained why people treated me the way they did.  I literally thought I was invisible until I was about 8.                          This is making me cry.
The people in my family were pretty intelligent, but emotionally by the time I was born everyone was a zombie.  It was the early 50's and things weren't discussed.  Their way of coping was to ignore me thereby ignoring what ever trauma they went through before I got there.  I was the scapegoat and that role stuck the rest of my life in my family.
Because of dreams and things my mother hinted at I'm 99% sure that my brain damage comes from her trying to smother me as a toddler.  I didn't speak till I was past 3.  In her addled teenage traumatized brain I'm guessing she figured if she got rid of me then she could get rid of the trauma.

What this did was make my brain go somewhere else.   I slipped into a fantasy life.  My experiences and the feedback wasn't jiving with my internal guidance system. I learned to live with a foot in two different world that didn't talk to each other.


Even this I realize now was a Gift.  This foundation set me up to be a Mystic.
In cultures that value Shamans this is part of the process.  You are picked by Spirit to undergo some trauma which then reveals the ability to work with Visions.   Shaman initiation (<click for info)

I'm too upset to continue.

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