In My Dreams

So, this is the picture I have on my key chain and on the back there’s a dementia awareness ribbon. It reminds me of two things: that dementia is fucking shit and needs to be eradicated (Duh) and that sometimes people can be extremely tough regardless of their possibly delicate appearance. So, the picture reminds me to keep fighting, even when I don’t want to.

Not only do I have a brain that wants me dead (suicide ideation is part and parcel of being me) I live with chronic pain which has gotten significantly worse this year. I was fortunate to get into doing home care where my clients are infants, because I can no longer walk for very long distances, and heavy lifting is absolutely impossible. I don’t really know what’s going on inside my back as I haven’t been able to get an MRI yet, but I’m rather certain that there are herniated discs at the least. 

I’ve lived with sciatica since 2001 but I’ve always been able to get around. This year the pain became significantly worse. Sometimes I can hardly walk. 

Art by Kamidiox.tumblr.com <3

What I’m getting around to is that with all the pain and all my money problems and family drama where I can never do anything right, and the loss of the one thing in the world that loved me unconditionally back in July (on his birthday, no less, what kind of fucking slap in the face is that) I went down for a nap thinking that I wished I would never wake up and wondering if suicide really would be a better option, because the way things are going, within five years I may be totally incapacitated if I can’t get my back fixed.

Now, y’all believe what you want, that this was a manifestation of my subconscious or some other such shit. Personally, I believe that a person’s soul survives and transcends their body. The body is finite, the soul is infinite. Anyway, in this dream or astral experience or whatever, Malcolm came to me and told me to please not give up, that things were going to be all right. He didn’t say when (not like I’d expect him to know or anything) but when I stared at him as if my head had been replaced by a cabbage for as smart as I looked at that moment, he smiled at me (a shy smile, not a brazen Angus or Bon type smile) and touched my arm.

“Please trust me, okay?” he said. “It’s going to be all right. Really it is.”

Before I could say anything, I was woken up by my dumb ass cat licking my hand. This cat has a habit of making my life weird by licking me. One time I dreamed that I was standing by what I thought was a tree, and it morphed into a Dark Young of Shub-Niggurath, stuck out its long, slimy, scratchy tongue, and licked my face. Turned out to be the cat licking my face, probably after licking his butt, with my luck.

This is a Dark Young of Shub-Niggurath, for those not versed in the Lovecraft Mythos. At least I didn’t dream about one of those licking me again.

Anyway, you can believe whatever you want to about my dream. I know what I believe.

~Cie~

Healing or Release Spell Day 5

I did not do this yesterday as I was extremely tired and did not wish to send tired energies to the subject. He's already fighting an uphill battle.

Today I used battery operated candles and added the component of a healing spell from the Tarot Spells book by Janina Renee, spoken three times, once for each of the three conditions which he has. I use battery operated candles so if I fall asleep while they're still "burning" and the cats knock them over, no problem. Modern technology does yield some positive innovations!

While I was sleeping I dreamed of or astrally encountered my subject. He was seated in a chair, surrounded by red candles burning. He had a determined expression on his face, and he smiled at me. This is a person who during his life held mystic/metaphysical beliefs, and I do believe that he does communicate with me. I was pleased to see him looking this way. 

Sometimes when I'm doing the spells I sense remorse from him and a quality of fear, but not fear of what will happen to him should his body die. He doesn't seem to fear that. He feels badly about what his disease has done to his family, about their sadness. He has some sort of unfinished business that I can't put a finger on. And at this point, he feels that if there were a miraculous healing and he were able to go back to his body, he would be abandoning me, who is lonely and enjoys his company.

I always reassure him that his family wouldn't want him to suffer, and that I would be very happy for him if his body were able to heal and he could use it again. 

I wish more people in the world cared about the effects of their actions on others the way this one cares about the effects something he didn't ask for or deliberately cause is having on his family and even on me, whom he just formed a connection with not long ago. It would be a better world.

~Cie~