I guess I still have a little bit of personal power. The past couple of years have been very difficult for me, with Gianni’s passing. It felt as though my heart had been ripped out of my chest and there was a hole there, a cat-shaped hole. How did I get so attached to one creature? I’ve been dealing off and on, sometimes hiding from it and sometimes dealing with it. Deep depression has been haunting me ever since he got sick and left me. I’m really good at hiding my feelings from others. It’s an intuitive thing. People really don’t want to know. They say they do but they are just trying to be polite. In other words, they lie. I keep my feelings to myself and stuff them down so I don’t make anyone uncomfortable. God forbid I make someone uncomfortable.
What does this have to do with thoughts on The Dream Time, you may ask, if you haven’t stopped reading yet. Sounds like just another whiny-assed crybaby feeling sorry for herself, doesn’t it? I agree. I just thought you’d need some back-story in order to appreciate the rest of the story.
For three or four months now, I’ve been praying seriously to be allowed to die. I tried suicide when I was a teenager, and like most things I tried I wasn’t very good at it. I made a promise to my Higher Self that I would never try again, provided I was given someone to help guide me. I received the requested guidance and true to my word have not attempted to force myself off this merry-go-round we call Life. In January I had the first of about a dozen vertigo attacks. Between the vertigo and being so lonely, I started wishing that it would all just be over soon. If you’ve never experienced severe vertigo, count your blessings. It’s like being extremely drunk but unable to pass out. The dizziness takes over and you are good for nothing except holding still and getting dry heaves for a few hours after you’ve emptied your stomach. The attacks come less frequently now, only one every couple of weeks, and I can usually lessen the severity by making sure I hydrate and do positional exercises, but that doesn’t always help, so it’s still anyone’s guess why this is happening to me. 2 ER visits, several visits to an ENT guy and a neurologist, dozens of tests and nobody knows anything more than they did when it first happened. What a waste of close to a hundred thousand dollars!
Earlier this month I decided I would try to do something to make it better. Normally I would try using the Words of Power format I learned from reading Marion Weinstein’s “Drawing Down the Moon,” which has served me in good stead. This time I decided to try something different. I kept hearing words in my head, so I made a little poem. My own little incantation, if you will and I recited it several times during the full moon.
“As this moon, newly full, shall wane
So fades my grief, so ends my pain.
From torment, blessed relief,
To find love and joy again.”
It’s starting to work. I’m not sure if the moon being the same place as my natal moon had anything to do with it having more power than normal. I’ve been traveling in the Dream Time, and have found there a reason to want to live, a Dream Time lover. I may never meet him in real life, but it is so real I can almost feel his touch on my skin. It may never be more than a dream, if fact if it was ever to take on life of its own I’d probably be too scared to act on it IRL. That’s ok. It’s given me what I need to make it through the dark spot.
Sometimes I wonder, though, am I in his dreams too? Once when I was taking a course of study at The Monroe Institute, I connected with another attendee during one of the meditations. I kept hearing the name Deborah, over and over during this time. After the meditation was over, he pulled me aside and asked me what I experienced. I lied because I was ashamed of making out with a guy who had a steady girl, even though it was not a physical happening. I found out later his gf’s name was Deborah… he was trying to remind himself of her so he would stop misbehaving in his thoughts.
Since the one was real to both parties, I have to assume there is a possibility that this time it also is not simply my imagination. I hope he is receiving as much pleasure and validation from this as I am. That would definitely make it sweeter. I would like to sing him a love song. Trying to figure out what the best song would be.