It is often when I am at my lowest that I feel something is reaching out to me. Call it angels, guides, God, Spirit, our higher self, it is like a break in the clouds. Things happen that carry a message or lesson that is very clear to me. It is not always pleasant. Sometimes it is tough, like a distressing near death experience after being so suicidal. These experiences make me realise maybe I don’t actually want to die just yet and they give me a sense of gratitude for my life. Often, though, the communication is gentle and touching. A few months ago I had very traumatic night where I had a sudden panic attack and also became psychotic, dissociated, experienced intense feelings of Solipsism, or however you want to view the experience. I was admitted to hospital. Then when I was discharged I was still not right. My mental health team made it worse by trying to section me under the Mental Health Act and give me compulsory treatment. I fled my city and spent five weeks in my friend’s holiday house. Inside the house was the Footprints poem and all I can say is I felt protected spiritually. On the Monday, the night I first experienced the “attack”, the bedside lamp in the front bedroom mysteriously turned itself on. I was a little creeped out at first, but I took it as a sign that somebody on the other side wanted to make their presence known and remind me I am not alone and I am safe. I left the light on over night and fell asleep. The next day when I woke up it had turned itself off. It was like somebody was there with me that night holding my hand until I fell asleep.
A few days ago I saw this on the desk in my study.
It is a scrunched up chocolate wrapper on my beaded beret and immediately I saw an angel. I decided it was time to contact Living Illumination, the team of psychics who did my “My Angels and Me” consultation many years ago (which I wrote about in my post, “I am not alone“). I booked a “Life Blockage Release Consultation“. I want to know why the same trauma keeps happening over and over in my life. I knew the consultation was for me when I read Julie Debondt-Barkers’ review titled “End of Ground Hog Day”:
“One you get to a certain age, it becomes almost impossible to ignore the fact that somethings in your life seem to keep repeating and the only constant in the picture is you. Well, me. After having a string of ridiculously toxic relationships in my life, I got to see that all of this was caused by a tear in my aura that happened when I was 3 years old. Going back and healing this has made all of the difference. It has allowed me to see things as they really are and make much, much better choices. Life just seems to get easier when I do this. I can never “un see” this now. Very empowering and life changing. Powerful but gentle and long lasting. Thank you.”
I booked the consultation with Alan for this evening (which also happens to be full moon). I was keen to do it ASAP. When I woke up today though I felt hideous. I had such a heavy, crushing feeling of depression in my head. I saw my psychologist on Zoom and started feeling suicidal again. I felt the same rage that’s had me snapping at everyone. I threw a box of rice bites and it happened to land right on the angel I photographed above, knocking it to the floor. It was as though I was hitting and pushing away my spiritual team’s efforts to reach me. I know suicide is not the answer, but my mind goes there and I can’t really help it.
I had some time between my psychology appointment and my “Life Blockage Release Consultation”. I sat outside in the sun. A butterfly then landed softly on my arm. I knew right away this was no coincidence. The butterfly is a symbol of change/transformation. The butterfly is also a reminder that life is short so don’t take it for granted. These things come to me when I least expect it, reminding me to stop chasing people or trying to force life to be a certain way, just relax and good things will come.
One of the first things Alan told me was that I have a particularly strong team of guides/angels… that their love for me is very strong. Alan then reminded me that we are spiritual beings having a physical experience. We are here to learn and grow. He said we even choose our parents, and our parents play a big part in the block. He then went into an altered state of consciousness where he channeled information. He said the block was a “Level 3” block, blocking action. He then asked about several ages in my life and what happened at those ages. At every age there had been some significant trauma, although it was likely he would pick an age with significant trauma as my whole life has been traumatic. He acknowledged it has been a horrible life, and I said yes, sometimes I just want to kill myself. He said not to do that as I would start a new life with the same pain/obstacles as this life since I never overcame them. He came to the conclusion that the blockage which I am here to overcome is a blockage in confidence. He kept asking whether I question myself. Somehow this is what’s behind my string of traumas where I become attached to mental health workers and then lose them. My take home mantra was: “I don’t have to hide anymore, I am just as good as anyone else. I am capable. The qualities I like in others I have myself.”
I think when you see yourself as so low, other people can seem god-like. It’s not that they’re gods, it’s just they seem like it from where you are. If I put myself on an equal level to others then maybe I wouldn’t cling to them as much.
My discussion with Alan reminded me of a segment in a book I’m reading called “The Opposite of Butterfly Hunting” by Evanna Lynch. This is Evanna’s memoir about overcoming an eating disorder. There is a part on idealising other people:
“Nature abhors a vacuum, however, and I quickly had to fill the void where there should have been a personality with something distracting. Though in many ways I was doing better now, my self-esteem was as low as it had ever been, and I did not know where to begin in trying to improve myself. I was worn out from the struggle of the past two years – with my parents, with the doctors, with my own warring impulses to recover one moment and starve the next – and I simply didn’t have the will to find a new redeeming feature, something to love about myself. Self-love wasn’t a real thing anyway. It was a marketing term: idealistic New Age garbage, as far as I was concerned. Self-acceptance was unlikely. My newest strategy for coping with being alive was all about disengaging from the self and putting my love and energy into others. Thus, a fangirl was born!
It’s not that all fans are trying to fill a void; it’s quite possible to be a fan of someone, to admire them and follow their work, while remaining an empowered, self-possessed, dignified individual. But when you are young, insecure and lack a distinct sense of self, I think that’s when admiration for another – typically someone far away and who is mythically aspirational, someone who it is socially acceptable to worship – can quickly balloon into obsession. I think it’s quite rare to meet an obsessive fan who doesn’t have a deep-seated inferiority complex. I see this relationship as dysfunctional, but I don’t see it as unacceptable. It has its place and purpose in life: loving someone else can keep you alive at times when it’s impossible to love yourself. And sometimes, in loving someone else, you become a better version of yourself, someone who you still may not love, but might, to a certain extent, come to like. My shamanic teacher, a fabulous, wise, redheaded Irish lady named Catherine (who I work with nowadays and for whom I can think of no more accurate term to describe our relationship than ‘spiritual fairy godmother’), has a theory on this: ‘If you spot it, you’ve got it,’ she continues to remind me in moments of too much jealousy or awe for another person. She means that when something or someone else captivates you to the point of distraction, it is because they are reflecting something within you that is longing to be expressed. There’s something about them that is calling forth an undiscovered part of you. This can be hard to believe when you’re a pale, shy, nondescript thirteen-year-old gazing adoringly at glamorous celebrities with gleaming skin and a charisma that suggests they were born better than everyone else. It is much more comfortable to just bow your head in shame and adulation and ascribe them an innate, God-given superiority. But there is more to the story if you see that the people you revere are mirroring hidden pieces of you.
The problem with fan culture is that people can get stuck in the place of always being a fan, of severing flawed human beings, and of never turning inwards to fix their own problems. Because even if (unlike Britney, our glorious, ephemeral princess of pop) you’re not an entertainer by trade, there will be aspects of your life where you have to step out of the shadows, take centre stage and show up fully. You can’t spend your entire life on the peripheries of the lives of others.”
After my consultation with Alan, I wanted to be alone for a bit. I went for a walk, ignoring the grey clouds closing in. I walked a long way and then the thunder began. Being sensitive to noise, I am scared of thunder. I started running back. I felt that same feeling of traumatic fatigue, that I can’t go on, that maybe I’m going to die. “Did I really learn all I have to learn in that two-hour session with Alan, and now it’s time for me to die?” I thought. But no, I made it back to the car. I still have a long way to go with this, but the consultation has pushed me in the right direction.
I lay down in a quiet, dark, secluded room when I got home but I couldn’t sleep. I needed to write this all out to process it. But as I write all this I am feeling a little off-kilter. I don’t know whether it was going through all those ages and traumas today, whether it was being caught in the storm, or whether there’s too much spiritual growth happening all at once and it’s overwhelming me, but I am feeling anxious, weak and unhinged, almost like that night when I was apparently “psychotic”. My heart is palpitating and life just feels weird. I feel like I could die any moment. I am hoping to make it through the night as I have some things to look forward to tomorrow. I am seeing my disability worker, and in the evening I am going to an online support group for women with bipolar. I wanted to talk about my recent manic episode with people who understand, and the grief I’ve been feeling coming out of it, even though some parts of it were scary.