Saturday, January 14, 2012

One Very Strange Dream...

My closest friends would agree with me when I say that, in my life, I've often had profoundly insightful dreams, and in this post, I'd like to tell you about one of them. I didn't realize it at the time, and certainly didn't understand it then, but I do now, and my hope is that the message in it will resonate within your hearts...

I will tell you this: You will not like this dream at first (lol - you may even think I was having a nightmare!). That's okay, I didn't either, but please, wait for the end.

If you have read some of my previous posts you would know that as a teenager, I was very preoccupied with the idea of mortality and relentlessly questioned the purpose of life itself. So, it would make sense that I happen to experience this very vivid and unforgettable dream during that time. 

For some reason, my most memorable dreams often include my sister and our best friend, and this one was no exception. The first thing I remembered was the smell of chlorine, and although there was no indoor swimming pool, the three of us were dressed in black one-piece bathing suits that were reminiscent of the 1940's. Besides that we each had white matching swimming caps on and nothing else. I could feel the rough tiled floor beneath our bare feet, had a sense of a lengthy window that lightened pale blue walls, and illuminated the swirls of steam surrounding us, and for the first time realized we were waiting in a very long line. 

This particular line was strange - it had rules. It was simply understood that we were all unable to leave it and that we were also forbidden to change the order in which the three of us were standing. My sister was before me, my friend behind, and it seemed as if hundreds of other, men, women and children were both in front of and in the back of all of us.

There was a buzzing chatter from were we stood. No one could see the front of the line, could understand what we were waiting for, and the taste of fear and apprehension about this fact burned like fire in our mouths. We all knew we were trapped.

For what seemed an eternity we stood there, slowly moving forward every now and then, penetrating the fog, and desperately hoping to see what fate awaited us. 

When I did finally see where we were headed, where the line actually ended that is, a wave of shock and horror permeated throughout my body as I watched in utter disbelief as two militant men, grabbed the arms of the first person in line, dragged them over to a pale blue wall, and forcefully spun them around to face an over-enthusiastic firing squad. The person was then asked to count down from ten, and the second they reached the number one, was shot dead and thrown into the pile of unfortunate souls who happen to be in line before them.

I could feel my body freeze with the stunning realization that I, along with the two people I loved most in the world, were about to...die. Oddly, panic or protest didn't entertain my mind in the least. In fact, although I could not say the same for my sister who was practically roaring in defiance by now, the only thoughts that raced through my mind were ones of curiousity. I wondered if it was going to hurt to die, how would it feel? What would happen to me afterwards? Where would I go? This is really IT...I kept thinking, why aren't I freaking out??

As we approached the front of the line, I became distraught that my sister was before me, my friend and I tried to calm her hysterics, but she seemed unreachable, and by the time her turn came and she was forced to start counting down, I remember listening as her voice trembled the numbers out loud. I saw her face fill with fear as she neared the end, and then contort into one of absolute rage as she somehow managed to flee her captures and make a run for it. The sounds of shots fired rang out, and I looked away in despair, knowing she hadn't made it.

I was next in line, and quickly turned to my friend before the soldiers came near, attempting a lame joke by saying, "Well, I hope to see you in a few." We both forced a sad smile for reassurance, and I closed my eyes as I was led to the wall, turned around and asked to start counting. I remember saying the first few numbers out loud with ease, but as I reached five, my pace slowed a bit as my mind began to race again, asking the same questions it had before. I just couldn't believe this was really voice started to shake but I continued to count down. 

I heard the shots fire the moment I said, "One," but never felt the bullets. Instead I felt a sensation of swift descent as if I was on a roller coaster ride that had been hovering over the top of a huge drop, and finally released at such an incredible pace that my stomach leapt. 

The drop seemed to last forever and the speed was lightening fast...suddenly I came to a quick and abrupt stop and finally opened my eyes. 

Emotions of sheer joy, happiness and...confusion flooded through me as I found myself sitting cross-legged next to my sister and our friend in a bright white transparent-like room. (This dream was SO before "The Matrix" it's not even funny...) We all looked at each other with wonder. Where are we? What happened? It seemed the three of us had absolutely no idea where we were. "Did we die?" I thought to myself, and as if on queue a man appeared to walk through the transparent walls to sit next to us.

He was unimaginably beautiful - it was his eyes really, I couldn't tear myself away from the warmth, light, and gentleness I saw in them. Seriously, it almost hurt to gaze upon him and that kind of light. He was wearing a reddish-brown cloth that reminded me of some kind of historical monk and his feet was wrapped with ancient sandals. Comforted by his presence I asked aloud this time, "Did we die?"

He took a moment to answer, but when he did, I couldn't help but notice how his voice held an incredible soothing paternal melody to it. He answered ambiguously, saying that in "our" sense of the word, yes we did in fact die.

"Well, I replied in awe, what do we do now?" He looked at me and smiled. "Do what I do." he said, and with a wave of his hand the white transparent room instantly transformed into the most beautiful tropical paradise I had ever seen.

"Do what I do." He said..."Create..." 

I awoke the next morning with a feeling of complete peace, but I soon became confused. Why did he say create? I had never understood that part. You see this was before all the ideas of the "New Age" movement came with its' Law of Attraction, and movies like, "The Secret". Only after being introduced to these ideas did I finally understand the notion that our thoughts and emotions are truly an incredible creative force, and that the choices we make on a day to day basis about them have a remarkable impact in the creation of our own personal fact, one might say that they even become our lives. 

What I am learning from this is that although I cannot control that my illness wasn't "caught early," and because of that am unsure of what my own future entails, but I CAN control certain things that hopefully will have an amazing impact for my future reality.

I can chose which foods I put into my body, I can forgive myself for not being a "perfect patient" all these years. I can choose to work with my body instead of against it. I can create boundaries for those who don't understand my condition and learn to say NO when they ask too much of me (and not feel guilty about it!) I can allow myself to receive love and healing and be okay about the fact that it may take years to heal. I can put myself first (wow, that's a big one!)

The last thing I want for myself is to leave this world knowing that I could have made better choices to help myself recover. 

It may take longer than usual to manifest, but I think, for me, this just might be the lesson of a lifetime. 

Much Love and Many Blessings,

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Shelter from the Storm

It's 2am in the morning and I'm rolling in the New Year hunched over a porcelain white toilet waiting for waves of nausea to cease. Although this may sound like a typical scenario, it is anything but.

I wish I could say that I've drunken too much or even that I've come down with a stomach virus, but no, the nausea is from an entirely different malady, and is one that I happen to suffer from monthly.

 I call it "The Monthly Ten" - 10 days of hell to be exact, a period in which my symptoms become so severe that I basically become completely bedridden.

This night was a little different though, you see usually I can help myself out. Usually, I can sleep in the hyperbaric chamber which actually stops what I'm about to tell you from occurring at such severity.

It starts with a little bit of a headache - that's my queue, but I ignore it and it spreads. Within 15 minutes my skull feels as if it's about to implode from pressure, the joints in my spine feel as if the very presence of gravity itself is enough to make them crumble, the muscles in along my spine and head tighten to such a degree that I begin to walk at a very awkward and slow gait, and there is a sense of something very acidic - like battery acid pouring down my back and swirling throughout my head. 

Noise begins to bother me, light truly hurts to look at, finally my neck stiffens to stone and I feel as though I'm suffocating, as though oxygen is no longer reaching my brain and I become confused, disorientated, desperate and...nauseous.

This, of course, leads me to the bathroom, but nothing comes up, and I'm stuck. Where can I go? The hospital is not an option for me; I've been down that road, and know from experience there's nothing they can do for me. So what do I do? I whisper for my mother who is luckily awake, and she accompanies me into the bathroom where I continue to writhe in pain, she tries to talk to me but what she's saying doesn't penetrate, and I'm not making any sense. All I know is that this needs to stop, I need to sleep. So, I do the only thing I can think of, look her straight in the eyes and with urgent desperation say to her, turning my cheek to the side, "Mom, pleeaaseee - Knock. Me. Out...

Why am I telling you this story? Because it made me realize that there absolutely needs to be a place for us Lymies to go, a refuge, a shelter from the storm so to speak. A place where we are understood and helped by those who have been there. A place beyond the controversy, beyond the doubts - where people REALLY understand that we are very, very sick, a place of healing.

I've mentioned Mara Williams in a previous post named "Something To Talk About" and her vision of creating the "Inanna House" that would provide exactly what I've mentioned above. She is actively attempting to make this happen, and I (lol) actively WANT this to happen...sooo what do we do? Besides purchasing her book, "Nature's Dirty Needle" to help raise funds, why not throw a small fundraiser in her honor? 

If there's anything you can think of to help her make Inanna House a reality, please contact Mara through her blog "Voyaging Lyme" (link on left hand side of page), or by e-mailing her at

Thank you for your consideration and your support!
All my best,

PS -  If anyone has donated any amount to this site via the pay pal button and I have NOT contacted them, please let me know...