Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Dreamed last night that I was a slave

Dreamed last night that I was a slave--a prophetic dream for sure.  In the dream, I was a little three or four year old African slave boy.  I was travelling with a group of slaves and life was hard, and times were tough.  Everyone was beat down and weary.  A mother offered me her breast (though it was a perky, girlish breast rather than a full, maternal breast).  In the dream, part of me was an adult and I thought that I was too old to take the breast.  But there was an anthropological commentary running too, and it said, "when life is a constant struggle and food is scarce, mothers suckle their young for extended periods."    I took the breast.  The rest of the dream I will keep to myself and wait to see if it reveals itself, but I will say that I am very much looking forward to being received into the Episcopal Church by a Black woman bishop.  That setup is  so perfect--I couldn't have prayed for it any more perfectly.  It also is very reassuring that apparently the rector, Fr. Brian went to seminary with her (and I assume, he is the one that invited).  That speaks volumes of her character and spirituality to me.  I indeed am blessed, even though tonight I feel the burden of slavery very heavy.

My body is totally broken down from the constant drugging of speed and psychotropic drugs.  My arms are so heavy that they cannot lift, and my muscles are all painflully  spasming. I have a constant headache, and a full, "bloated", fluid-filled head that makes it hard to think or feel. My heart is constantly racing, and I don't even want to know my cholesterol level (lithium raises cholesterol, too).  Arthritis and tendonitis are attacking all my joints--those are the ones that working.  The psychotropic drugs totally deaden my knees and elbows so that I cannot even walk normally, and it it painful on the knees to not track properly.  The interior of my body is in pain too--something is wrong with my espophagus (I think--I don't know what the hell it is), and I feel organ and deep abdominal pain, but I don't know what is causing it--it could be all this extra weight, that is truly disgusting to live with and accept, especially knowing that it has all been incurred through personal bodily violation by people I cannot stand.  But I am slave.  Even my own body and brain does not belong to me, but to religious parasites who want to force me into a sickening, idolatrous image of holiness that they can feed off of.  I am tryingto hold on, but honestly I don't know how my body can continue to live with this kind of heaviness, pain, and suffering.  I saw a former aerobics instructor today, and I was so depressed, because when I used to go to his class, I used to be full of energy, vitality, life, and joy, able to do a full hour of aerobic exercise, and then go on to a yoga class.  Now I cannot even do an aerobics class at all.  I can barely walk.  I cannot even do yoga.  My arms are too weak and heavy to do even the basic poses.  And I know, from before, that damage IS permanent.  I haven't been able to do one pushup since the lithium caused the muscle rigidity two years ago, and now the damned slaveowners are forcing more of the muscle destroying poison into me. 

Then there is the autism.  That is a whole another story.  I wanted to freak out in Walmart today--just couldn't handle it.  Instead I went to a changing room to try on clothes where I could have my own space with no stimuli, but the stupid clerk drugged it with psychotropic drugs.   And I knew, I knew, exactly by that smile she gave me that she was going to do it.  It is the smile of a stupid sheep Catholic--that is, the smile of a codependent with no self-aware,  empowered,  interior life or depth of spirituality.  She doesn't feel in control of her own life, so it is so satisfying to her to steal the self-esteem and self-control of another who would be sovereign in her own life.  The amazing thing is that I don't pick up that co-dependency from the Episcopalians at St.  Michael.  I also don't pick it up at yoga--my inner intuition tells me that people of my yoga class have been praying for me, and though most of them probably cannot stand institutional Christianity, they are truly spiritually powerful and sincere people, and I "feel" their genuine and benevolent intent for me, and am grateful.  So see, even a slave gets offered a breast every once in a while (this image just reminded me of the disgust on Dave Denny's face that I observed while someone was talking of an animal suckling--true patriarch that he is, he despises feminine nurturance.  But I don't.  I am a slave, and my life is hard, and I am humbly grateful for any true nurturing, nourishment, and support that is offered to me.  I thank God I seem to finally have found an institutional community that truly cares about me, and I thank God for all the people who truly are praying for me--specifically the people of my yoga class and at St. Michael's. 

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