Wednesday, September 28, 2011

I had no interesting dreams last night

I had no interesting dreams last night, probably because I was drugged on Depakote. I remember dreaming something about the Congo (which I assume to be the Black community), but the drugs interfere with my ability to remember or recall anything. I just know that for the second day in a row, I woke up groaning. That is a common tell-tale sign of Depakote, or some similar psychotropic drug that I have been force fed multiple times. I think that I actually was on lithium, yesterday as well. Upon waking this morning, and looking on pictures that I could not, for the life, of me, "interpret" conclusively, this morning, I could identify the markers I look for with ease. This confirmed what I already was suspecting last night. The drug (lithium), that had been forced on me, was seriously impacting my intuitive faculty. It also was impacting my drive, energy, and attitude, and my guess is that today, the negative symptomology would be even worse, except that I am not on lithium. Instead, I am on some drug that totally drains my energy, and makes me just want to lie down and sleep--almost feels like a sedative or low marijuana kind of high.

Anyway, last night, the lithium did what it always does--caused the brain rushes and bio-electrical energy jolts, that make it impossible to sleep. It also caused the intense anger that accompany lithium in my system. If they had left it in long enough, I would start experiencing mood swings. This angry and frustrated mindset is important, because I think I was abducted last night, to gauge whether my unconscious is following my conscious in the desire to be accepted by the Black community. Judging from all the White men I encountered on my bike ride (and the dearth of Black faces) , and the crippled woman parked across my open door all morning, I would assume "no".

I am certain that the drugging I endure has a big impact on this contrary attitude. Intellectually, I understand and accept becoming a Black man. Rationally, it makes sense from an intuitive perspective. I could present my case, but for me, it is not necessary--I already understand and accept it. For all the racists or negative occultists, it won't make a difference--they only see me as fitting into their agenda--most especially as some "Isis" kind of figure that holds sway in their imagination, but has no power in reality. However, emotionally, or unconsciously, there apparently still is resistance, and I am not sure precisely what is the cause of that, except to say that I honor and respect it. Something still has to be worked through and out. I am not certain that it is my reluctance to enter a BLACK community, as it is a reluctance to enter a Black COMMUNITY. I just have long standing socialization issues, arising from my autistic difficulties as a youth, and all the negativity, control, and rejection that I have experienced, even to this day--including a felt sense of betrayal and abandonment by the Black psychics. I don't hold grudges, although I can completely close off, and it really takes a lot for me to completely close off--like firing me from work, interfering with my relationships, throwing me in jail for six months, and into a psychiatric institution for six months, so that I will be a "nun". I am completely closed off to that future, or any that involves religious celibacy. I am completely closed off to being a crippled female, or any kind of Isis anima figure. I am not yet closed off to being an integral part of the Black community, because, while I felt violated by the initial psychic intrusion, I pushed back as good as I got, and I consider their most egregious fault, that of not approaching me over a year ago, to tell me that I was in immediate and explicit danger and offer sanctuary, to be a "sin" of omission, rather than a "sin" of commission. Yes, they did it, because they were uncomfortable with my strong female and lesbian being, but the bottom line is that it was their choice to make, and not an infringement upon my choice (we could get deep into a discussion about prejudices and "isms", etc, but I find that counterproductive). The bottom line is that (as those who are Catholic or theologically inclined know), there is a tremendous difference between a sin of omission and a sin of commission. So, while regrettable, there is no grudge. I am more upset that they did not support me, while my musculature was being all cut out, while I was risking my neck to support them in astral battles. Again, though, if I were to hold a grudge, it would be against Salusa, who I believe was primarily responsible, but I think I know why Salusa did it, and so I cannot hold a deep grudge there, either. Yes, I got angry about it; I deserved to get angry about it. However, for me, anger is a freeing emotion. I let it rip, and it releases all the negative energy. I am very Hispanic and Scotch Irish in that way. To be honest, I think many in the Black community experience anger as a negative emotion that does not release and free the pain, but one that shackles and drags down into a cesspool of resentment and bitterness. So, maybe they fear my anger--too bad, my anger is what enables me to live and experience honestly, and then forgive and move on. So I have.

So, again, what is holding me back? I don't know. Such a radical change probably takes a while. I could wish that I could get acceptance into a community as I am, but I think they fear that I would become comfortable without the radical transformation into the person they have been waiting for, ever since they gained access to occult knowledge--the promise of a Black leader. They probably are correct in their assumption, because my life has been so difficult that I have learned to thrive in whatever environment in which I am put, nearly always after a rocky, initial adjustment. As a matter of fact, now that my energy levels are higher (almost certainly because they did something to the nerves in my sacrum), I feel a lot better, even in this mutilated body that still doesn't work right. I can't help myself--I am by nature, a happy person. Still, my arms don't work right, and these Nazi boobs drive me crazy, and I hate the feeling I get when the estrogen is forced on me--not to mention that I still go bumping into walls, from lack of energy, so I still scream for the return of my strong, healthy body. I know that I am going to get it back--whether as a Black man (that is what I would bet on), or as an intersexed, lesbian woman, I don't know.

I guess that some of the White occultists (who? what alliance?), now recognize that I am masculine, and may be angling for my participation in their alliance, and I do not hate or disown my White or Hispanic heritage, but the truth is that the Black people of the world need a strong leader and hero, while the Whites and Hispanics will do just fine without one. They have had plenty of them over the centuries, who left strong, and longstanding cultural and spiritual roots and value systems to guide them. It is not that there have not been good Black candidates for transformative leaders, but the two most promising Black leaders of the last century, Dr. King and Malcolm X, were assassinated, while the latter was milked for his semen in his sleep, so that the White occultists could try to control the future Black leader. So, it is the deep Christian in me, that remembers the words of Jesus, and how he prayed for the people, "for they were sheep without a shepherd".

Of course, Jesus learned that while they yearned for a strong leader, these leaderless Israel patriots also wanted to control their shepherd--the desire of the spiritually immature and psychologically weak everywhere, and so, he ended up on the cross, dying a martyr. I do not feel called to martyrdom--if I did, I would be the crippled female saint, or for that matter, would have languished in an unfulfilling life as a nun. No, I feel better when I am exercising my gifts, even if they seem to flourish undercover, as do the writings on this blog. I continue to hope that the martydom that I am enduring now--the enforced isolation and loneliness, will someday be at end. I hope so, but no matter what, I will be true to my imperative as a Christian disciple--and that means, for me, that I will strive to be both psychologically and spiritually strong (no matter whether I am female or male; Black or White), and I will aim for continual conversion to be a better person in accord with the will of God. I think I know the what the will of God is--I just have to drag this reluctant flesh across the finish line, but no matter what, I will finish strong and free, and if I celebrate the end of my race alone, so be it--people will know how a strong and free human being lives their life, no matter the challenges or adversity. In the meantime, I just look to be strong and free today--it is hard, when I am so damned drugged--but at least, I am functioning, so praised be to God for that...

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