[I’m contributing to my beautiful friend Linda’s Time Machine Blogging Challenge. Hop on over to read other timey-wimey, wibbley-wobbley perspectives and participate.
It’s 2:33 a.m.
I can see my living room – the sofas, the bookshelves, the Xbox, the Wii, children’s books, the black floral area rug I picked out so the kids could have pizza for family movie club and I wouldn’t mind if someone dropped a piece.
That part is the same.
Overlaid on it, I see a knight kneeling before a king. On top of that, the sea crashing against a bluff leaving people behind instead of foam. And then another scene and another.
I feel rage and I don’t know why.
I want to smash things. I want to scream.
But I don’t because children are sleeping in the next room.
I want tears to come so I can release this. I don’t know what to do.
I grab some pillows and beat them mercilessly in the silence.
No one trained me for this.
I didn’t grow up seeing ghosts, knowing others’ secrets or watching fairies play in a garden. This was not my life.
My hands are sweating.
My feet are shaking.
I wish I had someone to call. I’ve been to crystal healers, shamans, and medicine men. They don’t know what it is but Spirit shows them what to do each time to help me. I’d never heard someone tell me so lovingly and diplomatically that they thought I was mentally ill before. I said to ask Spirit. Spirit said I wasn’t, then showed her how to help but not a word on what was happening or why.
I’m burning up and I don’t know why or what to do. I take off my clothes and drink more water.
T comes out to ask me if I’m coming back to bed. When he finds me naked and screaming into pillows, he asks what he can do.
Stay. Just stay.
I can feel the fear and judgment of others when I tell them what happens. They don’t understand it.
Neither do I.
But I know my heart.
And I love God.
God’s talking to me and I don’t know the language yet. I trust myself.
So I tell T what I tell him every time he asks how to help me.
I love you. Please stay with me. Ask your guides if there is anything you or I can do to help. Thank you.
I’ve learned how to stay with myself and it is what I value in a partner. Someone who doesn’t judge or psychoanalyze. Someone who can go to Spirit and find out what needs to be done when I have too much input to hear clearly.
I’m nobody’s piece of cake. But I am mine. And I need help sometimes from someone who can stay.
T gets a cool washcloth and walks me to the bathroom. Spirit gave him directions and he gathers materials while the tub fills.
He sings to me while I bathe.
He asks what I see, how I feel. He listens. He is not afraid. He loves me.
The overwhelming input subsides.
I dry off. T tucks me into bed and crawls in with me. The children are still sleeping, undisturbed and none the wiser.
I’m not an island. I can’t do this alone. But I have one person who can stay.
Thank you, God. That’s all I need.
We’ll build from there.
Tomorrow’s post for the Time Machine Blogging Challenge belongs to Jamie. Check her out here!
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