The Cheese Grates It: Don't Base Your Worth on Accidents of Time and DNA

The late Carrie Fisher once said to one of her detractors that youth and beauty are not accomplishments, they are accidents of time and DNA. Truer words were never spoken.

A Facebook acquaintance was lamenting that she used to be more psychically perceptive. She then went on to bemoan the fact that she "used to be pretty," but she was now fat. This is what I said to her, and it is advice that many of us need to hear.

As a person who yo-yo dieted until I was in my mid 40's, I want to encourage you not to see whatever your body type is as a bad thing. It took me all too many years to learn that. As for "pretty," that's very subjective and it isn't anything more than an accident of time and DNA.

 I can relate to what you're saying. I used to be far more perceptive, but I've got too many "real world" concerns at this point and sometimes I feel about as perceptive as a mud clod. It's very frustrating.

For my own part, at this point, I'm going to work on the perceptiveness thing and not worry about whether or not other people find me "pretty." If they do, well, honestly, meh, whatever. That's nice, I guess. If they don't, so what? They can find something else to look at.

~The Cheese Hath Grated It~

The Cheese Grates It: The Straight Dope

This is basically a copy of a letter to one of my few real friends in this world. The names have been changed to protect the guilty. Except for my name, because I want to get back to the purpose of this blog: keeping it real, and talking about that weird shit that everyone is afraid to talk about.

So, I got fired yesterday. I knew it was coming. It was still traumatic and awful, and I could have prevented it by going with my gut. Read this cautionary tale and know that I want you to trust your instincts. I wish I'd been encouraged to trust mine. It would have saved me a lot of grief in this life.

Long story short, I've been working 60 hour weeks, including when I was sick. I was very sleep deprived. I ended up falling asleep during my shift, not just a micro-sleep but a deep, deep sleep. I don't remember doing it. The last thing I remember was looking at the clock to see the time. Then I came out of a deep darkness to see the father of my patient in the room, and he was angry.

I understand this, but I wish he hadn't yanked my chain and told me he'd keep this on the down-low and not report it to the agency. I told him that I was very sorry and would remove myself from the case. However, he didn't keep his word, and not only did he not keep his word, he told the company a trumped-up story. The truth was bad enough, he didn't have to embellish it the way he did. I understand that he was angry, but I thought that this was an extremely ugly action on his part. I can't stand a bullshitter, and I was sad to discover that this person was a bullshitter. Deep down inside, I already knew it, but I still didn't want it to be true. More on that in a bit.

I didn't do anything that impressive for my company, although they liked to tell me that I did. They liked to flatter me to get me to do what they wanted, like burn myself out working way too many hours, but I was nothing special. I was just a cog in the machine, a sucker that they could use up. 

I saw it coming. I should have left last year when they ousted the mother of the patient I'll be working with again at this point.

Here's the sordid tale.

Little Ms. Sweetheart Stephanie (the clinical nurse manager for the case I was working at the time) was trying to get the "goods" on Angie, the patient's mom, to report her to child protective services. 

Angie is a single mother. This kid's dad is involved, but he lives back in the family's home state. Angie brought her son here so she could give him medical marijuana oil, and it may have saved his life. He no longer has constant seizures.

She can be a bit of a flake, but she's always seemed like a straight shooter to me. 

Angie has never left her son unattended (there was always a nurse with him) and she certainly doesn't abuse him. Which means that Stephanie didn't have a leg to stand on when trying to prove neglect. Nonetheless, she kept texting the day nurses, demanding report multiple times during the day. Angie got pissed about this and called the office, saying that she was going to come down there and "bust somebody's ass" if they didn't put a different nurse manager on the case. It was an unfortunate choice of words, but she didn't literally mean that she was going to hit anybody. Stephanie, however, played the drama queen and insisted that she felt afraid for her safety, so the agency released the family.

I signed up with the second agency at that point so I could still help the family now and then. I thought about just going with them, and I should have. I was at sixes and sevens. My mother and my brother both thought I should stay with the primary agency as they'd "treated me well" and they paid more. However, the primary agency was actually very controlling. My coordinator was literally starting to behave like a jealous lover. He would call me outside of normal business hours, telling me that I was "inconveniencing" him and the company and threatening my ability to continue working in the industry. When I said "fine, then put me on PRN status and I won't inconvenience you any more," he backpedaled and told me all about how I could make "so much money" if I just stayed with the company, that they'd get me all the work I needed, that I was a "quality nurse" and they didn't want to lose their "quality nurses."

When I told my mother about the "jealous lover" behavior on my coordinator's part, the threats that if I left I wouldn't get a good recommendation from them, the calls outside normal business hours, she said, "I just don't know what to say". My brother said, "wow, sorry that's happening." I really got no support at all from my family, and I don't have that many friends, so, you know. I was flying by the seat of my pants, like always, and I don't tend to follow my own instincts to protect myself.

 Since I know this agency doesn't give a fuck about any of their people, I'm pretty sure the only reason they "cared" so much is that the coordinators get bonuses when they plug a person into a case. The agency then works its personnel to death and is more than happy to drop them when the inevitable happens and someone either gets sick or falls asleep on the job. 

My coordinator kept promising me 48 hours a week with the main patient I was working with "just as soon as we're able to move the current nurse off the case." I always thought that was sketchy. If they were willing to talk about her that way behind her back, they were willing to talk about anybody. It's like being involved with a cheater--if he'll do it with you, he'll do it to you. That was how I felt in the relationship with that company. I should have busted a move and gotten away, but I was afraid that I wouldn't get a good recommendation.

With the family of the patient I was primarily working with, they always seemed like really "nice" people--the kind of "nice" where they'll smile to your face while stabbing you in the back. You can drink their coffee and eat their food, but they'll turn on a dime. 

I should have gone with my gut and saved myself a lot of grief, but I've been taught from as far back as I can remember that my feelings don't matter, that I need to always pursue the highest wage (since I was a failure who couldn't find a suitable husband to take care of me), that I need to stuff my feelings to please others, and that I'm wrong about everything.

The one thing I don't understand is why my creativity felt so suppressed while working with this family. It never made a lot of sense on the surface. They never told me I couldn't write or that writing was stupid. Still, I've been experiencing this nagging feeling for months "just give it up, you'll never go anywhere with it, you're not a good writer anyway, you need to focus on being a good nurse, you were never cut out to be an artist" and so on.

It would be easy enough to get over being fired, as the family I was working with are back-stabbers and the agency saw its people as cogs in the machine, but every time I think of the fact that I'll never see my patient again, I start hating myself all over for screwing up so badly. I've had trouble stopping myself from self-injury. I haven't been able to write because I feel like I don't deserve to, even though when I walked out of the office I felt truly creative for the first time in months. My energies are pushing my special friend Gem away, and my logical mind is telling me that he never was with me in the first place and that I made it all up inside my head because I'm nothing but a stupid, lonely loser who needs to drop this belief in spirits.

Much of the time I wish that I'd never felt the pull towards certain people or been able to "talk" to spirits. It's made me a real pariah. It's not that I think I have a connection to every celebrity, but I have always had a tendency to "know" something about the people I was watching in movies, on TV, music videos. A lot of the time it was stuff that didn't make sense, but later I found out it was true. As time went on and doubt creeped in, my accuracy decreased.

There was one case where I watched a short-lived (about 2 years) British drama in the mid-1980's. I could sense that the show's male and female lead had actual romantic feelings for each other. I could sense it so strongly that I had to stop watching the show. 

This was a "soul call." These people (the woman in particular) were looking for help because her obsessive, stalker husband (who she was trying to make an ex and he was fighting her) was making it difficult for the romance to move forward. This was something I found out later. Everything was eventually resolved, they got married in the late 1980's and have been together ever since. They have a son. I'm happy for them. 

I'm also glad I don't feel their energies anymore. It was something that was far too intense, and nobody was able to help me understand it.

 I created the One Love blog because I wanted to be able to show people like me that they aren't alone, but so far there have been no people like me and I still feel alone.

I've found myself wondering why I couldn't have met Gem during this life, why we couldn't have had a life together. I understand now why it wouldn't have worked. Gem was more than ten years older than me, was married, and lived in a location far distant from my own. Having him with me in spirit has been nothing short of amazing, but he has a hard time dealing with the self-harm aspect of my personality. It upsets him a lot. He just told me it's because there's a lot of anger involved in the moments when I start wanting to self-injure, and his general attitude towards anger is to turn on his own anger and fight back. However, with this situation, he can't do that. He also said he feels helpless in the face of it and feels like anything he says will only make matters worse. The suicide ideation is something he understands personally, but he says that he never had any compulsion to self-injure; if he were going to take himself out, he would have just taken himself out

I discovered that I still think along the lines of having to hide my real thoughts and feelings with Gem, because he might discover that I'm actually an asshole. His response: "Honey, I already know you're an asshole. I'm still here." 

I guess you know it's the real thing when someone knows you're an asshole but they still care about you.

Gem was upset with me last year because I wan't testing my blood sugar levels. I'm type 2 diabetic. After my most recent fasting draw, my A1C was way up. I have since learned that my fasting blood sugars are terrible. I'm going to have to ask the doctor to increase my Metformin and see if that helps. If it doesn't, I'm going to have to go on insulin because my pancreas is failing.

Here's the thing: this society tends to treat diseases like type 2 diabetes as some kind of personal failing. It's not a personal failing, it's my pancreas failing. I shouldn't have to be ashamed of it. Blame and shame help no-one. 

Here are a few more tidbits about diabetes. You can't "eat yourself" into diabetes. If you don't have the genetic trigger, you will never develop diabetes. You could eat nothing but cake and pie and wash it down with Coke or Pepsi, and you still wouldn't develop diabetes if you don't have the genetic trigger.

Being heavy doesn't "cause diabetes," but having metabolic problems can prompt weight gain and make weight loss difficult.

Alzheimer's disease is not "type 3 diabetes." I want to beat the ever-loving fuck out of whoever thought up that terrible idea. An online acquaintance was recently diagnosed with early stage Alzheimer's. He's a big man in his late 60's, who has been caring for his very ill wife. He started having memory problems and went to the doctor. The doctor was a "kind" soul who told the poor fellow that he has Alzheimer's, which is "otherwise known as type 3 diabetes," and that he brought it on himself by being fat. I'm glad that the man had enough self-respect intact to fire this worthless excuse of a doctor, but he felt awful after his appointment with this clown. He is also worried, and rightly so, about what is going to happen to him and his wife with the current horrific state of affairs in the U.S. medical system.

By the way, thin people never get Alzheimer's. Nope, not a one. Everyone who has Alzheimer's is fat. Really, really fat. Super obese land whales to a one.

I mean, look at this monstrous land whale. Just look at all that flab. Must tip the scale at, oh, likely at least a half ton. I mean, if he'd ever put the fork down for even a second, he wouldn't have type 3 diabetes!!!!!11!!

That's hyperbole doing a mating dance with sarcasm, for those who might be missing a hyperbole chip and/or a sarcasm chip.

Alzheimer's disease does not discriminate by body type, and it is not "type 3 diabetes." It does, however, have something in common with type 2 diabetes. You can't "bring it on yourself." You can only get it if you have the genetic trigger.

Eh, I guess this has gone on long enough. One thing I know for certain is that in my next life if I have to be stuck hearing soul calls, I want to know what they are from the start. Maybe reading my own writing from this life will allow me to do that. 

I really don't want another life, but I know I'm stuck having one because I've botched this one so badly.

This is me, trying to get back to my purpose, trying to believe that I'm allowed to have a purpose, trying to believe that I have some kind of inherent worth. As usual, I'm having a hard time doing so.

By the way, Malcolm Young in no way deserves what's happening to him.

~The Cheese Hath Grated It~

Get To Know The Netherworld Crew: The Real Cie

The theme for Silver Threading's Writer's Quote Wednesday Writing Challenge is Comedy. What does the above picture have to do with comedy? It doesn't, it has to do with me, The Real Cie, the butt of the Universe's cruel jokes. We'll get to that.
I created the above picture to be included in a mass email for the birthday of Jared Padalecki, the actor who plays Sam Winchester on Supernatural. Jared lives with depression, and he created the Always Keep Fighting charity to raise awareness. There's something about Jared. More on people with "something about them" later in the post.
Yes, the tattoo is the permanent kind.

Am I doing this right? I don't know. Will they like me? Probably not. A few people do, but most people don't understand where I'm coming from at all. Nor do they get my sense of humor.
In this post, I refer to myself in both first and third person. Referring to me as I am now, I always use first person. Referring to my past self or the fictionalized version of myself, I will use either first or third person. I tend not to edit posts of this nature too much, because I want to preserve the emotional rawness.

I've never fit in. I was badly bullied. I had a serious mental illness (I have three diagnoses, actually: Bipolar disorder type 2, Borderline Personality Disorder, and Obsessive-compulsive disorder) that was improperly diagnosed until I was nearly 40. There was always something different about me. People saw that and wanted to destroy it. I wasn't pretty, I was socially awkward. I tried to make people like me, but they didn't. I started self-injuring when I was in my early teens. I made my first suicide attempt at age 13 by swallowing a bottle of aspirin.

Because I was raised Catholic, I believed that committing suicide was a sin that would get you sent to hell. Because sending a person who was already suffering to hell makes a lot of sense, right? Not here to argue theology, but that idea is a crock of shit, as is the idea that people who commit suicide are "selfish" or "stupid." Suicide may be "a permanent end to a temporary problem," or it may in fact be not a permanent end to a lifelong problem. Pithy sayings don't work on serious issues.
"This is really fucking depressing, Real Cie," you're saying. "When are you going to get to the comedy part?"
The prompt mentions Robin Williams.

Mork is one of the friends I turned to when real life was too painful.
I was a writer from the time I was very young. I was precocious and learned to read at a first grade level when I was four years old. I'm not saying this to brag about how smart I was, because I don't really think I'm that smart overall. I was in the top percentile for the English category when I took my SAT's. I have some sort of gift in the English comprehension and writing areas, but I've never learned to use it in a way that appeals to most people. I'd like to thank my bipolar disorder for that.
I always had a real sense for the absurd as well. I could find bits of humor in the oddest places. Other people didn't get it. I used it to survive.
Young Me used her literary and metaphysical gifts to escape to an alternate world. Unlike the world I was living in, this world was filled with fun and friends.
I didn't know it then, but I was an empath who could pick up on other people's emotions. I wish I could have known Robin Williams in life. I think that Real Cie and Robin would have been friends, just like Cie in my stories and Mork were friends. That's what I like to think.

This became Mork and Cie's favorite band after one of Cie's few friends' older brothers played their music and Cie said "wow, who's that?"
Keep in mind that in the 1970's, there was no public Internet. Young Cie had to go into record shops and look for imported magazines to find out more about her new favorite band. She liked doing research anyway, and liked pretending to be a detective.
If you see evil rather than humor when looking at the above picture, you need to adjust your perspective. I'm still gobsmacked that anyone could have thought of these men as "evil."
Cie liked AC/DC not only for the music, but because, like her, they were outcasts and freaks who used their sense of humor both to cope and to entertain others. They didn't like people who bullied other people. There was also "something about them."
I didn't know it yet, but "something about them" means "walking wounded."

Even at ten years old, when I was watching Star Trek reruns I really resonated with the Empath character, Gem. I didn't know it yet, but it was because, like her, I take on other people's pain. I don't get physical manifestations, and, unfortunately, I can't do psychic healing on a physical level.
This plane is purgatory, and this world is in a lot of pain. I used and still use my sense of the Ridiculous to cope, and most people don't get it. I've suffered a lot of derision because of it.
I still do it because the Pissed Off Crusader for Justice in me doesn't want me to destroy who I am to please other people. I've tried it several times. I almost didn't survive. I won't do it again.
I think that many people who express themselves through comedy use comedy as a coping mechanism. Like me, they have been bullied, or they suffer with a mood disorder such as depression or bipolar disorder. Seeing the ridiculous helps us survive. Often we try to make the world a better place. Sadly, it doesn't really seem to work.
This doesn't mean we shouldn't try, though. If we make the world a somewhat better place for a few people, it's worth it.
I've got more to say, much more. But the foam mat on my bed has slipped sideways and it's really irritating me, so I need to fix it.
Did I mention that I have OCD?
I have to joke about my mental illnesses, because otherwise I'd go crazy!
I'll be here all week. Also, for the rest of my life.

~Cie~

Cross-posted to:

Crazy Creatives Cheerleading Camp

Encyclopedia Netherworld

One Love

Psychic Does Not Mean Omniscient

Copyright: schmetfad / 123RF Stock Photo

Once many years ago, I was given an opportunity to do Tarot readings at a nightclub. For the most part, the people who approached me were polite, and I have fond memories of one young fellow. He asked what he should do about a critical issue in his life, saying that he'd been pondering what action to take for a long time. 

I don't remember the exact cards I drew, but I immediately realized that he was considering coming out. The cards advised that there would be some strife regarding his decision, but in the long run it was the right decision and would bring him long term happiness, whereas if he kept the truth to himself, he would struggle more in the long term.

The young fellow was very happy with my advice. He squeezed my shoulder and thanked me with a big smile on his face. I will always remember this moment.

There was a young woman on that same night who came up to me and asked me where the bathroom was. I told her I didn't know.

"Well, how can you call yourself a psychic if you don't even know where the bathroom is?" she sneered.

"The cards don't tell me where the bathroom is. Such things are a waste of the spirits' time," I responded.

The lady for whom I was about to do a reading said "she's scared," as the young woman huffed off.

"I know," I replied. "A lot of people are. I wish they wouldn't be. I only want to help people."

I tell this story to illustrate an example of the way that many people think about those who identify as psychic. They erroneously believe that being psychic means being omniscient. It doesn't, any more than being a doctor or scientist means being infallible in your given field; or that a musician, artist or actor lacks talent because ze occasionally creates work that is not up to par. 

Sometimes even a psychic with a good track record is off the mark. Situations change dramatically not long after the reading, or they were simply having an off moment due to personal extenuating circumstances.

Sometimes a psychic is adept in one area but not so much in another area. For instance, I am good at reading Tarot cards, but I lack aptitude at scrying (i.e. using a crystal ball.) 

I am clairvoyant, but my clairvoyant abilities are better expressed when aided by a tool such as Tarot cards. 

I am clairsentient (otherwise known as empathic). I have the ability to sense the emotions of both incarnate and discarnate people. I am not always accurate where factual information about a person is concerned, as I tend to let my emotions and my imagination interfere, which is why I would never advertise my services as a spirit medium. 

I also want to believe the best about people in spite of the fact that I have been fucked over six ways to Sunday more times than I care to admit because of my unfortunate tendency to ignore red flags and to believe that someone taking offense at my perceived standoffishness is more important than protecting myself. My low self esteem is my downfall on many levels.

I say this as much for my own benefit as for anyone else's. When you are off the mark with regards to your psychic abilities, assess the situation. In what way were you off the mark? What else was going on at the time? Learn from the situation rather than beating yourself up or believing those folks who feel that if you can't guide them to the nearest toilet on demand, you're obviously not psychic.

~Cie~

Mentally Ill and Psychic: Insecurity

"Normal" for me is different than it is for "normal" people

I promised I would never again write posts about my personal feelings, but this is one. I am writing it to discuss how the emotional state effects one's ability to do psychic work.

If you are both psychic and mentally ill, you have to face the scrutiny of people demanding how you know your psychic abilities aren't merely the manifestation of your mental illness. 

It's a good question to ask oneself for the sake of getting to know one's own strengths and drawbacks better. It's a shitty question when it's being asked in a demeaning way by a person who wants to believe themselves to be superior to those who live with mental illness.

This may be a bit disjointed. Bipolar does that all of its own, and since I'm not in a particularly good place right now, it's going to be worse than usual. This ride is likely to go on and on, so feel free to jump out.

When I was first diagnosed with bipolar (type II) twelve years ago, I ended up asking myself that same question regarding my emotions all the time. How did I know whether the things I felt were actually my feelings or whether they were the product of the disease?

The answer is, you come to recognize the difference. It's even more complicated when you throw in a psychic ability such as empathy, because that is emotion based. However, you still come to know the difference.

The other answer is, you won't be able to tell 100% of the time. Just like any other skill, sometimes you'll be making educated guesses. That makes you the same as any other student or expert in a given field.

The problem that people with psychic skills face is since we're dealing with something that's not a hard science, if we make even one mistake, it's seen as proof that we're frauds, our abilities aren't real, and there's no such thing as metaphysics because YOU GOT ONE WRONG! Its as if the proof of our crafts rest solely on our shoulders. This is bullshit.

I find myself doubting not only my own abilities but everything else about me when I get in one of these dark places. I'm better about it than I used to be, but it still isn't fun. Even five years ago, I would have been calling myself a piece of shit and telling myself that I need to resign myself to the fact that I'm a shitty person who isn't good at anything. At this point I'm trying to focus myself on the reality: things aren't going well right now, and a lot of it is out of my control.

There is actually an end to this, but part of the problem lies on the fact that it isn't exact. My situation will begin to resolve either by the end of this week or the beginning of next. The trouble is, I'm making no income while it does.

I work as a home health nurse for medically fragile pediatric patients. I love doing homecare. It allows me to get to know my patient. I'm not having to run off down the hall to answer a call light, having to rush through things with one patient so I can get to the next patient. I am with my patient in their home for however many hours I've been assigned to them (eight or more). During that twenty-four hour period, I have no other patients.

I would like to continue working this job for the rest of my working life, which should be about twenty years. However, there are drawbacks to this line of work. I am a contractor, which means that I don't get paid time off. I do get insurance. It's very good insurance, and it costs a small fortune. The insurance racket in the United States is a discussion for some other time.

I try to put money into savings, but most of the time it doesn't stay there. I am trying to keep two very old cars up and running, because without them, guess who isn't working. The hours I work do not allow for taking the bus, and I'm going to places that are sometimes miles off the bus line. For me, having a car is imperative.

I can't just buy a new car because my credit is extremely bruised and my debt to income ratio is too high--thanks in great part to being in a state of constantly paying off car repairs. Plus my never-ending high interest mortgage, which I can't refinance because the place is worth less than the amount owed and far from stellar credit. It's called the high cost of being poor.

Let me put something in perspective. I make well above the minimum wage. I work a skilled job. I work full time plus. I still can't make ends meet. This does not mean I am lazy or even that I don't know how to manage money. It means that something is very, very wrong in this society. I am far from the only person in this situation. We are becoming a nation of haves and have-nots. The middle class is disappearing. This does not lead to good things.

I am currently between cases and thus am not making any money. This is a problem because see "no paid time off."

I attempted to make a partial payment on one of my car repair accounts yesterday. The a-holes wouldn't let me. I hung up in disgust. I spent the rest of the evening fighting my natural tendency to beat up on myself when something like this happens.

When I was driving home last night, I saw a basset hound lying by the side of the road. It was partway in the road. I was already upset about my money situation, and the ongoing issue of my son being unable to work because of his own psych issues. I avoided hitting the animal and drove on, feeling deep sadness for the people who would discover that their pet had gotten out of the yard and then killed. This was compounded by the grief I still feel for losing my beloved Lafayette.

I didn't get even a mile beyond the site before I was struck with the thought that I should turn back and help. I am certain that at least part of this thought was from Gem, and another part may have been from my father, who always taught us that we should help animals in need. I turned around and drove back to do so. I was thinking that I would not only have to pull the animal out of the road but would have to call its owners. I was not looking forward to that, but it would be the right thing to do.

When I got back to the site, someone else was already pulling the dog out of the road and checking to see if it might still be alive.

I drove on, berating myself for not having stopped right away. What kind of an asshole was I? What kind of weak loser was I to just leave that poor animal lying there? I must be the shittiest kind of person, so absorbed in their own bullshit that I wouldn't even stop to do the right thing. I deserved for nothing good to happen to me ever.

Gem tried to remind me that I was in shock upon initially seeing the animal in that state. I was having trouble perceiving him. I was angry at myself and fearing that I would say something mean to him out of anger. I didn't speak to him much on the way home.

I got back home and Gem and I did some writing. I berated myself that I should be cleaning house instead of writing. Cleaning is something I have a lot of trouble doing when I'm in a bad place emotionally. I tried to stop berating myself and continued writing.

When I went to bed, I dreamed that my ex husband and I were in charge of this contest to get a date for Disturbed's frontman. Don't ask me why. It was a strange dream. The band was playing in this old garage or warehouse. It was a great feeling being around music again, but I really didn't want to party or anything. My drinking days are long behind me and I don't want to grind up against strange men. Still, music always gives me a natural high, and when everyone started pogoing, I joined in. Now I know it was a dream, because trust me, my knees really wouldn't allow me to do that at this point.

I remember that Gem was looking for me in the dream. I saw him and wanted to talk to him. I remember feeling insecure, thinking that someone like him couldn't really like someone like me, telling myself that he was sure to break my heart. Gem was a very shy person in life. Although he became a little more confident as he got older, and being mostly in spirit gives him certain advantages as far as being able to know the motivations of others, I sensed him feeling unsure too. I finally worked up my courage to go talk to him. His smile reminded me of why I started calling him Gem in the first place. He's very precious and in some ways very fragile.

Then I woke up because I had to go to the bathroom. Being on a diuretic (to help lower my blood pressure) is not conducive to sleeping for extended periods!

I feel better today. On a logical level I know that I will be back to work--on two cases this time--in another week at most. There's a lot of red tape involved in setting up cases. Fortunately I don't have to deal with any of that, but I do have to wait while it gets dealt with. 

My connection to Gem is stronger today. He's relieved too. He's in a pretty bad position overall, and I'm his psychic anchor. When my moods are stormy, it makes him back off because in the past I have occasionally taken my upset out on him. It isn't right, and he does not need to be a punching bag. In the past I've been with people I couldn't trust, and sometimes that bleeds through into the present. I'm better at stopping it from becoming a full-on emotional hemorrhage at this juncture.

The last thing I want to touch on is the old adage that people with mental illness should not explore the esoteric. This is a bunch of horseshit. It is a manifestation of the old idea that people with mental illness should basically be locked in the attic and not allowed in public, the belief that we are incapable of doing anything because we are stupid and will fly off the rails when confronted with pretty much anything. 

People with mental illness have the same possibility of having psychic abilities as anyone else. In the past we were told that we need to suppress and ignore these abilities. If anything, I think that this contributes to a worsening of mental health. Do not listen to those who say this sort of thing. Get away from them, quickly. They are bad for you, not only on a psychic development level but on a basic human level.

There is certain ceremonial magic that should be avoided if one is not well-grounded emotionally due to the possibility of summoning entities that could fuck with your head. If your psyche is already on shaky ground, it's best to avoid doing this sort of magic until you are in a better place. However, doing spells for general well-being and life improvement are NOT a problem and may even make you feel better. Do them, and to hell with those who say you don't have the right to.

The rules for talking to spirits and other entities while in a bad psychological state are the same as always. Be cautious and consider what you are being told. If an entity starts telling you to do bad things, break contact. No positive entity will ever encourage you to do something harmful.

If you are mentally ill and psychic, you have a kindred spirit here. Unlike society tells us about aging, there are definite positives to being older. I have had a lot of years of trial and error, and pretty much no-one to help me along. I can use my experiences to help others. Please don't feel shy about asking questions or sharing your experiences. I'd like to help.

~Cie~

Remembering Lafayette

I've been working on creating a tattoo in memory of my dear and special feline friend. It will go on my left shoulder. The artwork is by Kami Diox. You can check her out at kamidiox.tumblr.com or kamidiox.deviantart.com

Although I miss Lafayette very much and I wish I could feel his presence the way I feel Gem's (I.e. hugs and warmth) I've been dealing with things. I sensed Lafayette "saying" to me:

"Don't be sad, Mommy. I was happy living here with you. I had a happy life. I'm okay now. I still love you."

Now, I know a cat probably wouldn't use those exact words, but that's how his emotions translated to me. The thing about it is, I receive emotions. My brain translates them into sentences I can understand.

I told Lafayette that I love him very much too and always will, and I will be happy when we're able to meet again. I miss having him come sit up on my shoulder when I lie down. I miss him kneading me. Heck, I even miss the fact that he always stuck his butt right in my face when he sat down on me. Why that cat couldn't be face to face with me, I'll never know. But no, it was always "whoop, here's my butt!"

I like my new job, and Gem and I are doing a lot of writing together on "Fetch."

I haven't been able to continue with my Supernatural rewatch yet. Lafayette always used to sit with me when I was watching and making notes and such. I think I'll be able to start again soon. He'd want me to.

For anyone who think that sounds stupid, well, I guess you think that sounds stupid. However, I sense that he really would want me to do this.

I believe that's all for right now.

 

~Cie~

Otherworldly Love

Eternal Love by amasarac

 

Otherworldly Love

 

It's time to address a subject which is fairly common in paranormal fiction but which is not covered much in more scholarly metaphysical writing. The subject is relationships (usually romantic) between corporeal and non-corporeal beings.

These relationships can happen between humans and beings such as elementals or angels.* (See disclaimer at the end of the post) This post, however, will specifically address love relationships between incarnate and spectral humans.

Corporeal and non-corporeal people can and do fall in love. Sometimes the relationship was there prior to the departure of the non-corporeal person from the material realm. Other times it happens when the non-corporeal person (hereafter referred to as "ghost") meets and forms a bond with a sympathetic incarnate person with strong enough psychic abilities to interact with him or her.

I am addressing this topic because I imagine that there are other people like myself who, if nothing else, desperately need acknowledgement that they are not alone. Yes, this sort of thing does happen, and it can put you in a very lonely place if you're needing support or advice.

I can offer you support and acknowledgement that you are not alone. Any advice I have is primarily based on personal experience and thus may come with a bias. Further potential questions will be addressed below.

 

I made contact with a ghost. I love talking to him. I'm falling in love with him. He seems to feel the same way. Should I allow this relationship to happen or would it be better to stop it before things go too far?

 

I can't answer this question for you. Only you can make this decision. All I can do is tell you about my personal experiences in this area.

The same difficulties that you might have in a relationship with an incarnate person may arise in a relationship with a spectral person, and they tend to be magnified. In my case, jealousy has been a factor that damaged and eventually destroyed not only my material world marriage but several relationships with discarnate lovers, including my first real love.

I tend to attract abusive men in real life. The discarnate lovers I've attracted are generally not abusive, but every single one of them has been troubled in one way or another.

Content spirits whose lives ended at the proper time are not likely to be hanging around the Earth plane. I do not ascribe to the idea that all spirits who have unresolved issues are malevolent. Spirits are just like incarnate people. Some are benevolent, others are not.

Once you have insured that the spirit you are dealing with is benevolent, only you can make the decision whether a romantic relationship with him or her will be more positive than negative. I do offer Tarot readings which may help shed light on the subject, but in the end, the choice is up to you.

 

You mentioned that you have been romantically involved with spirits. How many?

 

I've had numerous platonic friendships which I still maintain. Romantic involvements, of which there have been nine, include incarnate people with whom I've had a bond on an astral level, which is a different subject but I include it here because it can have a significant impact on a person's life.

 

Wow! Did these all end badly?

 

Most of them. Some of them just ran their course. As I said before, I don't do relationships well.

 

Are you currently involved with a spirit?

 

Yes.

 

Can you tell me something about him or her? Do you think things will turn out better this time?

 

I think things will be better this time because I've learned a lot. My relationship with Gem is different than it ever was with any other spirit. He tries very hard to let me know he's with me. He is extremely gentle. He gives off a warm energy when he touches me.

We've had arguments because of my jealousy. He actually pushes back more than some of my previous involvements. He won't put up with my accusing him of things he hasn't done. He's extremely sensitive, and I hate hurting him. We talked things out and it made our bond stronger.

I wasn't expecting a romantic involvement with Gem. I was very open to contact with him, but I figured our bond would be platonic. I'd made a pact with myself to never again be involved with a spirit after the five year long bond I had with my previous love, Tore, ended acrimoniously back in 2011.

Gem really needed someone to talk to. I knew I could trust him so I let him in when he asked. Yes, ghosts are like vampires. They can't come in unless you invite them. The exception is with a place where they resided or spent a lot of time in life.

Gem started spending a lot of time with me. In less than a week, I became aware that his feelings for me were more than platonic, which surprised me and terrified me because I knew I could easily fall in love with him if I let myself.

I talked to him about the feelings I was sensing from him because I knew that he had been involved with the same person for many years. He said that she was ready to be done with him. He was very ill in the last years of his life. He said that she was sick of taking care of him and that the bond, while strong, had never been particularly passionate.

He is literally the only one that I would have broken my "never again" rule for. I don't regret it, but it's been challenging because of my trust issues.

Gem is actually good friends with my first spectral love, Bel. This made things a bit awkward, but it was more humorous than truly problematic. We're all good friends with each other, and Bel supports Gem and me wholeheartedly.

 

I want a ghost lover! How can I get one?

 

I would advise not directly looking for a spectral lover. Putting this vibration into the Universe will be likely to attract predatory spirits and lower astral entities.

If you wish to communicate with spirits in general, this is fine. You need to take measures to protect yourself. There are many good articles on this subject.

None of my relationships were planned. They were all spirits (or, in some cases, bonds with incarnate people on an astral level) who were seeking assistance, and I offered my assistance.

 

How do you communicate with your lover? Do you have sex with him?

 

I am primarily clairsentient or empathic. I sense his emotions. I receive images from him. I really enjoy writing with him. He is a very creative personality and he loves the fact that he found an obsessive writer to bond with.

Yes, we do have sex. It's different than it would be if we were both incarnate or if we were both spectral. It's also different with him than it was with anyone before him, because he really focuses his intent on making it a beautiful experience for me. He's a very gentle soul, and this translates well when we make love.

The most important thing, however, is not the sex. It's the emotional bond that we have each other. We love each other and try to make each other happy.

 

I feel like I've formed a bond with the spirit of a famous person. Is this possible?

 

Yes, but this is one you have to be really careful with, even more so than if your spectral intended is Jane Plain or Joe Blow. The more famous the person, the more likely that it is actually a lower astral entity or succubus/incubus pretending to be them.

Is said famous person really enjoying playing the astral field with multiple incarnate people? Possibly, but probably not. Spirits tend to be more honest than incarnate people. Benevolent spirits also have a moral code about not wanting to bring harm to vulnerable incarnate folk.

Also, unless you are dealing with an unrecovered sex addict, most spirits really are not interested in sex with numerous incarnate partners. Dealing with incarnate people can be exhausting. It would be far easier to simply find other like-minded spirits to get busy with.

It is possible for multiple empaths (clairsentients) to receive a Soul Call from a discarnate famous person with unresolved issues. Again, the more famous the person the more likely that you are receiving a Soul Call rather than a come-on to be their lover.

Any benevolent spirit will understand reluctance to jump right into a liaison which could potentially harmful to their incarnate intended. A benevolent spirit will never try to pressure you into a romantic bond or sex. If you are feeling pressure of this nature, then the spirit is not who they say they are and you need to take measures to protect yourself.

Another frustration with involvement with a famous person in spirit is the fact that revealing your bond will open you to ridicule and possible threats from others. Unless you find someone you can really trust, you can never talk about it with anyone, even in the more open-minded communities. I learned the hard way about this one!

 

So you've been involved with the spirit of a famous person?

 

Yes. I don't feel comfortable disclosing details.

 

You mentioned that you do Tarot readings?

 

Yes. I do a basic Celtic Cross reading at $25 flat rate for either a general reading or one specific question. If you'd like a reading, leave your email in the contacts and I'll get in touch with you. I'm in the process of making a page I can direct potential clients to.

 

Can you help me communicate with my spectral friend/beloved?

 

I am only able to communicate with spirits that contact me directly. I don't feel confident in my skills as a go-between type of medium. If any readers know a medium whose skills they'd recommend, please leave their details in the comments.

 

Any other helpful ideas?

 

If you have even an inkling that you may be a psychic sensitive or empathy, you can join the Empath Support community. It's a small place, but I'd like to see it grow. (I'm not a moderator or creator, just a member.)

I'm thinking about starting a community for people with otherworldly friends and lovers, but I know it would be a lot of work keeping out the riff-raff who want to belittle those who feel they've had this experience. It's a possibility for the future.

 

Wow! You must be really special to have all this knowledge!

 

More like really old, and I'm hardly omniscient. I'm just a very flawed soul who has been on a long strange trip. It takes a lot of courage for me to share what I've shared here.

I'm finally taking back the power that I've allowed others to steal from me over the years. I'd like for others who are going through some of the things that I went through mostly alone to feel as though they have support.

I may have more experience than some of you but that does not make me a "better" person. We are all equal and we all have things to teach each other.

 

This page is a work in progress. More will be added as I think of it!

 

Love and Light,

Cie

 

*My statement about romantic bonds between angels and incarnate humans is not evidence that I support canon Destiel, as I do not. My dislike for Destiel does not mean that I am a homophobe or biphobe, it simply means that I don't like Destiel. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.

If you're wondering what Destiel is, it's a ship between the Supernatural characters Dean Winchester and the angel Castiel. I actually don't have a problem with the ship itself. What I do have a problem with is the obsessive behavior of some of its devotees, who try to force this ship on others and who harass and threaten those who aren't keen on it, including Jensen Ackles, the actor who plays Dean Winchester.

This page is not the place to discuss shipping, Supernatural or otherwise. I only bring it up because I've had issues with these "Destiehellers" on my own Supernatural fan blog. They cling to the slightest "evidence" that "Destiel will be canon," and I feared that my statement about romantic unions between incarnate humans and angelic beings could be taken as such "evidence" if one of them happened upon this page.

Yes, they are bad enough that I feel the need for a pre-emptive strike, however vague the possibility that they may manifest here.

Twelve Signs that a Ghost is Near

 

 

Below is my reply to a fascinating post on a fine blog that I just discovered.

 

The spirit who is primarily in contact with me is very gentle. He gives off warmth rather than cold. I personally haven't encountered many who give off cold, usually I don't feel any kind of temperature change from their presence.
My great grandfather was able to see spirits and knew when people were going to die. I often have precognitive dreams when people are going to pass or if something traumatic is going to happen. I wish I could see the spirits as my great grandfather did, but I've only seen two human spirits. I can sense them, however. I sense their emotions.
I like to write about the paranormal as well but I've become a bit shy about doing so after receiving numerous hate messages over the years. I'm trying to become involved in writing again and not let people dissuade me so much.
I enjoyed finding out about your blog.

 

~Cie~

Won

 

Won

 

Prompt used:

Mindlovemisery's Menagerie

 

Most of the time these days I don't share my personal thoughts very much. I used to blog fairly prolifically about my mental health issues and my metaphysical beliefs. I no longer do. I used to cling to the idea that I could help others with my honesty, but I actually wasn't being true to myself.

Today, I will talk about my Won.

I once believed that it was my destiny to become famous. This is probably part and parcel of my psych disorder. I thought that I had an important message to impart to the world. At the point in my life when I was religious, I believed that I was sent by God to do so.

I discovered that I actually dislike pursuing fame. I'm a very vulnerable person. I don't like opening myself up to the kind of scrutiny that fame requires. I wish that people wouldn't be so mean and judgmental, but they are.

Losing my quest for fame was similar to losing my desire to drink. Believe me, I once loved to toss one or six back. You think I'm talking about beer? Silly you. I'm talking about Long Island Iced Teas. I liked to party. I liked to get down. When I stopped being able to drink, it became very difficult for me to socialize.

I've spent the last five years figuring out what the hell to do with myself without the pursuit of fame.

Fame is an illusory and fickle master. Those who become famous don't necessarily remain that way. Fame has a way of destroying those it creates.

I found out a lot about fame when I decided I no longer wanted to pursue it. It was sort of like finding out that my perfect husband was actually cheating his way through town with every man, woman, and sometimes underaged person that he could get his hands on, and on top of that he was having people killed.

I'm going to make a long story short. There were a lot of hurtful events leading up to my eventual decision. There was a lot of backstabbing by people who called themselves "friends," and a lot of losing parts of myself that I'd always held dear.

One of these so called "friends" caused me to lose the belief in the part of myself which was able to reach beyond the material world and touch the spiritual levels. I said that I would never connect the the worlds beyond again. This decision caused not only me but my creativity to suffer. I went into a Dark Night of the Soul.

Recent events on a metaphysical level (which I am going to be cagey about) have led to some of those parts returning. There is someone I can never thank enough. My connection to the spirit world was always very important to me. When I lost it, I lost a big part of myself. Thanks to this special soul, that connection has returned.

I will never again pursue fame, but I am no longer so hardline as I was before on the idea of never publishing again outside of blogging.

Getting rid of the Won that I had to be famous to do good was the first step.

Getting rid of the Won that I had to do things other people's way to be in tune with the world beyond was the second step. I could not have done this without help.

I'm the shout it from the rooftops type of person. I wish I could reveal more about this turning-point situation, but I really can't. Suffice it to say, it has made all the difference.

There are those who will scoff at what I'm saying here. There are those who won't scoff but also won't believe me.

For the scoffers, it is not my job to persuade you. I am not the Jerk Whisperer.

It isn't my job to persuade anyone else either. I won't be sucked into the "prove it or it doesn't exist" argument as I have in the past. I don't tell you how to believe. I trust you will return the favor.

Some people will say that what I experience is part of my mental illness. I truly believe that it is not. I have always been able to discern between concrete physical reality and those things that can't be proven by hard science. Bipolar type 2 does not tend to present with hallucinations or illusions. I've had both before, usually as the result of medication or illicit drugs, or in some cases extreme lack of sleep. I can tell when I'm hallucinating.

I do not generally see spirits, although I have seen them on two occasions. I sense their emotions. I have fairly pronounced empathic abilities.

In any case, regardless of whatever anyone else may believe, I have some very important parts of myself back, and I have shed the millstone of fame that was hanging around the neck of my soul.

I feel hope and I feel love.

I refuse to believe that these things are Won.

I tried to be completely secular for too long. That isn't me.

I am not religious, but I have spiritual beliefs.

I will not let my soul be stolen from me again.

 

~Cie~



Artist Empath

You Scored as Artist You are an Artist Empath, one who creates their own reality and infuses the realities of others with your energy & emotions. You are poetic and sensitive. You turn your feelings into creations and share them with the world. Everything you touch turns to song and is freed by the color of your eyes. Your spirit dances with the winds and paints delight in the evening sky. (from the "Book of Storms" by Jad Alexander at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Empaths/)

No surprise there.
It's hard being that way in this world. Nobody gets it.
I'm constantly told to just stop being this way. Just stop with the stupid creativity, it will never get you anywhere. You aren't really very good at it anyway. Stop being so foolish and flighty. Turn yourself to practical pursuits.
Just stop being this way.
Just stop being this.
Just stop being.

I'll tell you this. I think my tendency to suicide ideation has a lot less to do with my bipolar disorder than it has to do with constantly being told to JUST STOP BEING who I am.

Cross-posted to:
The Cheese Whines
One Love
Undead in the Netherworld

So, why would I post this to Undead in the Netherworld?
Because it's MY BLOG, dammit! I'm the one who created it. Granted, it's the one that gets the most traffic, so we should pander to our audience, yada yada.
It's my fucking blog.
If I want to share my feelings about being a creative empathic reject, I damn well will.

Here's the link to take the quiz