Battling the Bigots

 I had a dream that me and James and a group of other LGBTQ people went into a homophobic gated community to battle the bigots who were armed with semi-automatic rifles and murdering gay people.

The dream started out with all of us sitting in small clusters of three or four people on the sides of a long white classroom where the armed bigots were attacking. We wanted to hide but we had nothing to cover us. There were no desks to hide under so we just sat and cowered in silence. Everyone was getting shot one by one by three smiling attackers in trenchcoats, fedoras, and sunglasses. 

Me and two other people watched and listened in fear and suspense as each gunshot went off and killed another member of our group, and the attackers moved closer and closer to us. Once we were their new targets they were sadistically thrilled and immediately started shooting. I remember bullets flying in our direction and then the dream phased to the next scene. 

James and I were in a large moving truck parked on the side of a road in the bigots' special gated community and the same three atrackers from before started shooting at us. James brought out an assault rifle and started strategically shooting at them from inside of the truck while I went outside and dodged bullets to go help our comrades who were injured down the road.

One of them was a gay man who got run over by one of the bigot's cars. His skull was completely flattened but he was still alive somehow, and I helped him onto the gurney so the paramedics could take him to the hospital. It was a disturbing and grueling feeling, and I couldn't imagine the kind of pain he must have been in.

Shortly afterwards I was in a parking lot with a few other LGBTQ members who were protesting. I watched another woman looking up at a billboard with a picture of a courageous looking black lesbian as she sang in protest. The words I remember are "I would rather be like her."

Me and James woke up in our moving truck the next day, which ended up being our RV, and I wanted to start driving because I had a feeling the bigots were going to show up any minute and start shooting at us and I felt like they might have actually succeeded in killing us that time if they got to us. I was having trouble starting the RV and I felt panicked.

 I think I ended up starting it after several tries and driving down the road, and we were talking about how we should use the RV to run over the bigots so we could take them out more easily (dream logic). I don't remember what happened after that but I woke up shortly afterwards. 

Brand New Insights

 1) Serotonin is called a neurotransmitter because it telepathically transmits information from person to person. It's not just a mood stabilizer but a tool in our communication, just as much as mirror neurons are communication tools that allow us to interact with body language. 

Serotonin sends messages through quantum entanglement like little envelopes in the form of "energy" or "vibes," and so much more. It allows for nonverbal communication and it's why we can also feel the moods and intentions of not just animals, but plants, if we pay attention.

2) Human beings, other animals, and plants all contain serotonin. Our own individual sources become difficult to reproduce because of different reasons including trauma, generational patterns that might stem from generational psychological wounds that get passed down in the DNA, lack of proper diet, and others. 

3) Trees can become sick, and so can human beings. Trees and humans need healthy communication with each other and with their own kind, and without it they become ill and stop producing enough serotonin, which causes them to have more trouble communicating, thus a vicious cycle happens until it's broken.

4) Serotonin helps regulate the nervous system. I know this from personal experience because now that I have higher levels of serotonin my brain has been going through washing machine cycles of automatic meditations. My thoughts no longer loop in ruminations, imaginary arguments or fights with people, or other negative daydreams. I no longer use escapism as a drug either. My thoughts flow from one to the next and process out in a way that's helpful and effortless like the channels in my mind have been unclogged.

5) Serotonin, like melatonin, helps produce rapid eye movements, except serotonin helps us do this while we're awake so we can process our emotions and move on with our days. Our daytime wakefulness is the wakeful dream with the conscious mind, while the nighttime sleepfulness is the sleepful dream with the subconscious mind. Serotonin is our sunlight and melatonin is our moonlight. 

A List of the Things I Love

 1) Triple scoop Baskin Robin's sundaes with extra caramel

2) The quirky things actors do that make the movie

3) Deep belly laughter 

4) Nostalgia

Via

- "pictures you can still smell"

- late 90's/early 2000s songs

- traveling and walking through towns I used to live in 

5) Memories that make me smile 

6) Songs that give me chills

7) The zing I get in my heart when I realize a certain person liked me or cared for me more than I thought they did, or when I get a flash of intuition

8) When music or art is so beautiful it makes me cry

9) When horror movies are funny

10) When lyrics are actually poems in disguise

11) Synchronicities 

12) Terence McKenna lectures

13) Fan-made music videos on YouTube, especially music videos that ship my favorite pairings in movies and shows

14) Gay romance in movies

15) Wonderfully made films

16) Daydreaming about things that could happen in the most wonderful way, things that could have happened in the most wonderful way, or about having telekinesis

17) My dog's underbite 

18) The smell of pine terpenes and summer approaching the mountains

19) Dog beaks

20) Friendly cats

21) Walking around at night

22) Nighttime in general 

23) Rainbows

24) Learning new information in subjects that interest me, like psychology and biology

25) Conspiracy theories

26) Stories about paranormal happenings

27) Sitting down to a nice meal at a favorite restaurant 

28) Going to the movies

29) Going camping, or being out in nature, especially near fresh water

30) Hot coffee and cold Yerba Mates

31) Trying new foods, especially weird ones

32) Red wine

33) Psychedelic trip reports

34) Adult coloring books

35) Snail mail

36) The smell of food cooking

37) The smell of white sage

38) The smell before and after it rains

39) Snow

40) Small town shops lining the main street

41) Small, cozy bookstores

42) Conversations about the nature of reality or other realities

43) Tarot cards

44) Toucans, ravens, and crows

45) Re-watching old favorites with a good snack

46) Finding games I like

47) Finding someone, even if they're online, super relatable

48) Realizing that I'm not as cringey as I thought I was in videos

49) Going through old photos

50) When my dog's two bottom canine teeth stick out and make him look like a troll, or him making cute faces in general

2022

 In 2022 I went through a lot of rough patches. Dark nights. I lost a doggy companion and also grieved the loss of more aspects of myself that fell away. My hair fell out like crazy, and my cognition, organization, and my ability to enjoy life in ways I did before became a little more difficult than they were in 2021. 

My OCD had me looping in fearful rituals and constantly doubting myself. My PMDD got me to the point of crippling rage and suicidal ideation along with my bipolar disorder which led to psychotic depression in October. Pills wouldn't work for me anymore, which I'm now seeing as a blessing which was in disguise.

 I went through more psychological abuse and dealt some out myself. I had horrible memories that came in like clockwork and tormented me. There were nights I lied awake feeling my heart ache in my chest for hours, wondering why I was never good enough or worthy of the love I felt for others. The sadness I felt almost became addictive, because sorrow felt safer than fear. Sorrow was bedrock for me, and the heartache was a comforting type of pain.

 I was looked at with judgement and disgust from others who were looking with judgement and disgust at themselves, and I turned my back to them. I kicked myself when I was already down because I confused myself with my pain, before picking myself back up and offering kind words and compassion, again and again. 

There were days I didn't get out of bed, which isn't like me, even though I've had depression for years. The mood cycles came in like storms, hurricanes sometimes, and the weather was more often stormy than sunny. I'd say a good 3/4 of the time. It was a dark year, but not that much darker than the previous ones. 🌒

There was also light. There were days when I went outside and I was a little more present in my life, even though I had to fight through anxiety and brain fog. There were days I found my strength and used it to make healthy choices, and days I found my softness and allowed it to help me accept what I didn't have control over and surrender it. 

I observed fear, honored it as a temporary learning experience, and moved through it instead of becoming it and letting it control my actions. I remembered that self image can get distorted in the illusions created by trauma, and the projections of other people who were also feeling insecure about themselves.

I felt a lot of my emotions honestly, when I wasn't fighting them or indulging in them. I fell into my feelings of anxiety, disgust, shame, anger, sadness, love, passion, appreciation, and joy and allowed them to dissipate on their own, and while I did that I was healing and developing acceptance and resilience.

I started writing new narratives, which were destroyed by the hurricanes, and rewritten, over and over again. I discovered that I'm not a 2 bit character who can be easily defined or summarized in a single sentence. I have many chapters.

 I'm not summer, fall, winter or spring, I'm all of the seasons. And I'm not a fair weather friend. I'm not a single person, I'm fragmented, and like a diamond, I have many different facets. Whichever one you see is a moment in time.

 I told myself the truth, that I am a beautiful, intelligent, strong, and perceptive person among other things, and beyond this body I am love experiencing love. I thought back to the ways I perceived my self when my body and mind were in a state of balance, and the wonderful qualities I was able to acknowledge. And I was reassured that one day the veil will lift and everything will be clear again.

I looked into the mirror I found outside by the dumpster and acknowledged the most difficult things, until the wind knocked it over and shattered it.

I created art.

I cried.

I enjoyed the little things…my meditations, my favorite metal songs and love ballads, playing with our new puppy someone brought over to us on Beltane, my birthday and his new girlfriend Daisy who also happens to be born on Beltane.

I turned my pain into poetry. I created a few fan made music videos for the first time and put them on YouTube and even though I cringe now when I watch them I had a lot of fun making them. I enjoyed new movies and shows and appreciated the artists for creating them, and for helping me get through tough times.

I came face to face with myself in a dream in November while I was picking myself up and dusting myself off after the severe, catalyzing depression I went through in October. When I was consciously choosing to be my own light again by choosing new pathways because I accepted, once again, that my body and brain will no longer tolerate psych meds.

And the synchronicities came, and they didn't fuck around. The universe communicated through not only numbers but repetitive messages and old wounds being triggered, and that loyal pair of crows. My spirit guides…showing me I am protected, and very much in love with beautiful nights and the days that follow them.

This time it wasn't about the deep, weed pulling shadow work so much as cultivating new seeds and giving them sunlight, which I'm learning is just as important for my growth as the storms that water them and removing old roots. The light is starting to clear the fog. I didn't have to dig so deep this time, but the work has still been rewarding and it's only the beginning for me ☀️

Self compassion

     I think I'll re-write some things I wrote because I still need to practice self compassion. I don't feel like being kind to myself today, but I guess I'll try. Maybe I'm not rough on the eyes, maybe it's just an aspect I perceive in myself because the diamond is more of an observation. A form of consciousness, not a tangible person. It's a collection of information I've taken in, and maybe now I look through it and see the reflections that have been collected in the Social Mirror. It's not what I started with, obviously, because no one leaves The World of Form unscathed. 

    So now I carry it with me, but I think sometimes I stare into it a little too often and confuse my perceptions with fact. A perception, for example, would be that this pen is running out of ink. Fact would be that the pen is another extension of the Collective Mind and is being used to convey more meaning. How much ink the pen has isn't actually known to me because I can't see it. Another perception would be that The World of Form has too many social constructs to conform to, and in doing so, we lose touch with our authentic selves. Fact is that constructs are the mind playing itself out in the World of Form, and limitations are Dream Material. I don't like to dream this way anymore, it's painful.

A fact is that if fae exist in the mind, they're as real as fireflies are to the average person perceiving in this World. Because the mind is The World of Form, your mind is a part of it, and so is mine. We're made from the same Dream Material. A perception is that they're "imaginary." I'd like to create better, so I have to perceive differently. If the movie Inception taught me anything, it's that dreams are simultaneously perceived while they're being created. So if someone is perceiving a fairy, they're creating it, and while they're creating it, they're perceiving it. The same goes with fireflies. 

This journal might not have helped me solve any problems, if there are any, but it's at least helped me feel better, and maybe I'll get to have a better dream tomorrow. I hope this can help someone else too going through depression.

Weathered

 10/15/22

Becoming more self aware is a painful experience. Finding the courage to see yourself is really difficult at first, but doing it has been helping me come to terms with where I’m at in my life, how I’ve changed. Except the only thing that’s really changed is my level of self-awareness, from limited ego to multi-faceted diamond. I used to see myself as either angelic, beautiful, and magnetic, or strange, awkward, and creepy. Now I see myself as being for the most part depressively plain and sick looking (honest daylight angles, indoors and outdoors). In some of them I can even look repulsive, and inside of the RV at night time I see the facet that stayed lively, pretty and fun through all the mindfucks I’ve been through over the years.

All of these facets are valid, and several of the ones I’ve found are painful to fully experience, but it’s a quiet, yielding pain now. There’s not as much shame and resistance left, at least when I stay with my intention to fully accept what I see. The mirror I found is an honest friend, which I appreciate today as a 26 year old. It’s really difficult to bear the weight of honesty when you haven't fully integrated your aspects into acceptance. I don’t know if anyone has because of how vast the subconscious is, but the more aspects you integrate the easier it is to accept the reality you find yourself in, and then you can really begin to move forward.

I don’t know if I’ll ever “love myself” in the sense that I’ll be happy with everything I see, because I’m learning that’s not what self love is. Love is understanding yourself. I don’t only understand this because I heard it from someone else, but because I’m discovering that truth through my own experience. When you’re infatuated with someone you see them through rose-colored glasses and they filter out a lot of negative qualities in that person, but when you love someone, you seek to understand them. And you accept even the parts of them you might see as ugly or unpleasant because you can see them clearly, and you don’t reject or deny them.

Self-infatuation is narcissism. It’s falling in “love” with a false ego. Self-love is rooted in honesty, self acceptance, and so importantly, self compassion. Self compassion is something I still haven’t fully embodied, but maybe one day I’ll get there. What I can say for a fact that what I saw in that mirror today was that I can no longer hide from myself the way I used to, because this one is portable and I use it in honest daylight. Makeup doesn’t even begin to cover up my flaws and if anything it just ends up making me look worse.

I took the makeup off after feeling disgusted with what I saw, and really looked in the mirror for 10 minutes or so and I didn’t hold back. I saw that what I can no longer hide is the sickness that’s lived in my mind. The psychological beatings, the warfare, the deep sense of sadness that became so normal I forgot about it, the imbalances that created storms. It’s why I look so weathered. That part of the diamond hides nothing…it’s harsh on the eyes. Like Patricio Dominguez said during his DMT story, “It’s not a very pleasant trip.” And while I’m quoting him I want to make it clear that this is purely a metaphor, and I’m hoping not a disrespectful one in regards to what it’s like to actually meet the Creator through DMT.

You don’t necessarily want to meet the Creator if you’re not ready to. But I’ve been as open as I can be during these times. “The Creator is…huge…deep, wide, tall…and has aspects. Many, many aspects.” I’m guessing that not all of them are pleasant. I want to add that another aspect had sickness as well, and a simultaneously masculine and feminine presence. Very worn down, very human. Overweight. The eyes? Sad, pained, intense, with a lot of strength, wisdom, fascination, innocence, and beaming curiosity. A light shining through the suffering of my humanity, but not easy to look at. A lot of people have turned away. Not all people are easy on the eyes, because Creator is multi-faceted. Not all trips are pleasant.

I've become rough on the eyes, because as a human being I’m not meant to be permanently young, beautiful and pure. I’m not meant to be constantly experiencing the feeling of my own pure, divine love because I was meant to become mortal. At least for a little while, or for as long as I want to be should I become overwhelmed with love again. I’m meant to break down, come undone, and shine my light through the darkness of my humanity in order to find the pieces of art that live in it. The Creator creates the art by discovering it. I’m meant to be imperfect. And when it’s time to go back Home, I’ll be reminded of why love to a human being is so overwhelming.

Diamond

    I've noticed there are so many different facets to my Self and my reality. So many different archetypes that play themselves out within me and outside of me, in the World of Form. Some lightings and angles and areas will distort my reflection into looking sickly and ugly and others seem to make me shine to the point of passing for a 6 on The Scale. Which these days is a privilege and an honor, being so fucking "lowly" and all. 

    It's crazy how many facets there are on the human diamond. I could be looking into the same mirror, or a different mirror, hand held, portable, or krazy glued to the bathroom wall. I could be looking into a pond on a cloudy day and having a pretty easy time coming to terms with that reflection. But honest daylight is really where you start to look through the diamond and allow your heart to ache.

    I don't always feel like I'm good at speaking anymore, even though there's a part of me that's becoming more and more aware of how articulate I really am. I've seen my eyes go dead and vacant, like I suffered a head injury and like I'll never be the same again, but I've been recollecting the fragments underneath that illusion (yes, the diamond is an illusion too if not more convincing) and I'm putting them back into focus and back together, so not only I get a fuller picture, but some day other people might as well. Sometimes I love being this way and sometimes it feels unGodly and disgusting. 

    I've had people reel back in disgust at me, or even clear their throat or cough to let me know, "Your presence is revolting. I don't want to have to deal with you but let's make this as polite and politically correct as possible. I'll do that by either cringing back in fear, using an overly sweet and sickening voice, or by plastering on a terrifying Rictus grin." Looking back on them they were great experiences, because when you look through certain lenses things can appear differently. "Objects in mirror may be closer than they appear."

    I feel like I'm letting a certain archetype come out, through therapist Sara, who feels almost like Alex Delarge from A Clockwork Orange, minus the ultraviolence and psychopathy. But to be fair psychotherapists can be worse than psychopaths. I could put these experiences into a book...an autobiography to feed my acquired narcissism, or I could keep it all to myself which is more likely. Unless someone finds this notebook one day, once yesterday's Sara has already passed on, and wants to keep the memory of psychotherapist Sara alive. 

    It's probably cringeworthy material, and if you wanted to stop reading I wouldn't blame you. But it's fun to read back to myself nonetheless. Because if people are going to be terrified by you, you may as well be mentally hilarious, even if it's in private.

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I can accept myself more easily as a diamond than an ego. Not because I'm unbreakable, rare, special, or coveted, but because I have many different facets. People have static personas for the most part but they constantly flow through different archetypes, and a lot of the time without fully realizing it until they're ready to. The archetypes are the friends, or lovers, or pets and owners, or cousins, or mailmen and residents of the mind. The inseparable hobbits, or the demon possessing the innocent, or the faefolk interacting with the men. 

 They usually have to choose a mask or two to save face so The World of Form doesn't become too much to take in at once, and most of the time they forget to take them off when they get home. I have, unknowingly, my whole life. I've been hiding my world too. It's not so much about landscapes, characters, and stories, but feelings, knowings, and experiencing through the eyes of a God made human. Except I usually forget that I'm God.

I don't know how else to put it so I think I'm borrowing some words for the time being. Eventually I'll find my own. Turn 10 degrees to the right and you're working with angst, weakness, and shame. Turn 20 degrees to the left and you have a Goddess. I face myself directly, in the honest daylight, and perceive the stark truth of being a plain, slightly off-putting pawn of a human being who's gone sick.

I turn around to face another angle, and the diamond shifts and glints in the light, and now I'm unhinged, wild, and mystical like a Lady of the Woods with no elves to watch over. In order to see the beauty in yourself, you have to fully admit to being ugly. In order to grow a psychopath you need to water someone's seed of darkness with enough trauma to break it open, and in order to grow an angel, you need to do the same, except the sun has to be able to fully reach it and transmute it.

If you look into someone's eyes and see the inside of your own heart you'll know exactly what to cultivate. I'll never see myself through the eyes of another, but where else do I have to look, except in the social mirror? Because the glass one in front of me has become one in the same.