We all rail against the thing we want to change in our own lives

And that gets messy!

I have worked full time since I was about 27 on being more and more conscious.   Two years before that crucial time I had had Spinal Meningitis which caused a cascade of events that FORCED me to become more conscious.  It was a month and a half recovery.  Should have been more.  My mom had to take care of me since I had no insurance at the time. The first 2 weeks I was in so much pain I was barely conscious, but because the pain was so great I couldn’t help BUT be conscious.  It was really the worst torture I could imagine a physical body going through consciously.  I have never tried to describe the pain before because there is no description, but if I had to I would say that it felt like I was being skinned alive while strips of my flesh and muscle to my bone were also being cut away but still attached to my nerve endings and dipped in scalding oil.  Then there was the bone and brain pain.  They were worse…   During those first two weeks if I had not had someone in the room to put their hands on me when the pain got to the moaning/screaming/writhing cycle, (pain is very cyclical) I would have slipped away.  My mom ordered a hospital bed so either she or my fiance could sleep in there 24/7.  Good thing…  They put blankets over the windows because anything that was any lighter than black was like having blunt bolts being driven through my eyes to my brain. (still quite a photophobe to this day)   I dry heaved for 2 weeks straight.   The morning after the doctor diagnosed me (Dr Toni ? in Atlanta who was on call for our normal pediatrician, [last doc I had seen who was out of town] was an expert in Spinal Menengitis(!), took one look at my nuchal rigidity and had me on a table doing a spinal tap lickity split!), mom got a nurse in to set up the pump for the antibiotics and I guess the Demerol which was useless and almost killed me on its own, but that was the extent of my medical intervention.  Not having insurance in this case saved my life.  Another time not having insurance almost killed me, but that is another part of my puzzle…

In the delusional hallucinations I had when I was so sick I saw that 3 was the most important number in the universe and that everything is based on the number three.  That triangles play into how our future will just become better and better.  Without them?  Not so much. The alien who was narrating my vision made it very clear with 3D imaging. The night of the delusions was well into week 3.  It had to have been because I was able to make it out of bed alone. I crawled  for what seemed like hours all the way up the steep carpeted stairs to my mother’s attic turned peaceful-single-mom-cave hallucinating the entire time.   I had to get to her because the images were so real that I needed her to see what I was seeing, because the insistence of the alien narrator was freaking me out and I had a fever and was just not in my right mind so I felt I probably needed someone to know what was going on with me.   The 3rd week I was also able to finally pee.   Yes, It is a miracle I have functioning kidneys.  A serious testament to the resilience of the human body.   The fourth week I could go to the doctor’s office finally, but it was hard.   The last two weeks I was dealing with thrush.  Very unpleasant.  I was walking around but not real interested in getting well.  My life was pretty shitty and I didn’t really want to go back to it.  While I was sick my Dad had to take back the first car newer than 10, 20 or 30 years old I had ever bought.  He had co-signed and was not that well himself.  (Was well on the way to killing himself with alcohol.  He survived and is still sober), but I had no ride.  In Atlanta.  I did have a bike, an Hoo Koo Hee Koo, because my fiance was a bike mechanic and got great deals. but I couldn’t ride in fact I had to prove it to myself and fall on my handlebars and broke 3 ribs trying out the new clipless pedals.  Yes, the day after I got home from my mother’s to the original Mattress Factory where we lived my betrothed suddenly stepped out in front of me about a minute after installing the pedals to “show me how to get out of the pedals”.  I was definitely not living consciously yet, but I was also still recovering.  My brain was starved for nutrients and I was yeast addled so I couldn’t remember how to get my new hardware-shoes disconnected from the special tiny pedals.  I fell unassisted, in slow motion, handle bars being twisted in some futile attempt for me to get away from the situation, but turned too sharply and crack, crack, cracking 7, 8 and 9.  Had been and was still planning to marry this guy and I did.  I liked him a lot and he said he loved me and I just wanted to be loved. Like it was water for one of my houseplants I wanted to finally feel what it was like to be loved.  I wanted to start a family.  Just of two people, maybe some cats, but a chosen family who would love me…

So that was the beginning of my journey to having a conscious life.  It took two more years of abusing myself and not caring if tomorrow came and living unconsciously.  I didn’t use the near-death experience to change at all so I did not heal at all from the depths of being so very sick.  I am still, today having a hard time doing everything possible to heal myself.  I am close, but with yeast, close is no cigar. The upshot of all this is that as I become more conscious I realize that anything I am upset about I probably do the same thing in my life somewhere.  I have to identify what and where it is in myself, forgive myself and work hard and practice to stop that behavior.  Then guess what?  That thing that I am so upset with others about?  It disappears.  It can only happen though if I use whatever it is I am upset about as a mirror to look deeply into my own life to see where it is in me.

It all starts with one person.  Us.  Be the change, baby, be the change.

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One thought on “We all rail against the thing we want to change in our own lives

  1. Pingback: Weeks #3 and 4… Little beasties and cravings and relapse, oh my! | Soul Kitty

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