The Story of a Break
I had to pack. I do not remember much about the preparation of the trip that brought me to a distant land, which I am leaving soon to go back where I came from. I only remember that I got my visa the same day I had to catch the flight, I do not recall how many bags I brought, I only remember shipping two boxes with books. This land was a refuge from the disappointment of being myself, a soft woman that wanted to excel in a harsh world. I had the conviction that my first defeats were a product of bad luck, but with time I realised that it was me, my weakness, my fear of conflict and my ability to surrender to the empowered aggressive contender.
Sometimes I think that this contender is inside myself and see it outside with different faces and roles, but I do not have a proof nor certainty of this. Another explanation could be that I invite these contenders to my life just to conquer my fear, but again it is just a thought. Self-help books say these things to give you some order to our experiences, which help us to gain control. However, to be honest, sometimes I am almost sure that I am haunted or perhaps called to surrender my dreams.
I also have conspiracy theories. I dared to talk about them and I was sent to a psychiatric clinic were I was medicated to cure my delusions. This has been my last battle, against medications and the profound silence of being quiet. The last year I have had some much time to think. I was forced to stay still and to reflect on my life. No one forced me. It was life or perhaps God.
When I came here, I was a young dreamer professional who enjoyed my work over everything else. I wanted to get married though, it was my driver for many years. I came here as a strong woman, with a strong personality and strong convictions but I was weak. Now I feel weak, shaking and dis-empowered but I hope I am stronger now, or perhaps that at least I will stop the fight against the odds and adopt the submissive role that society wants to give me or the one that I long for. You never know. No, I can't, it breaks my heart.
It breaks my heart, but I am weak by now. I cannot fight any longer, not from here. I am cautious now, I do not expect to escape anymore from myself, but I want to embrace the new that I know about myself. I just want to be more assertive without burning the bridges, but what if I burn one of two. I have before, but I waited too long for it.
Angels are with me. I thank God for them, they have been with me all along this long journey. If was not for them, perhaps I would have had lost my mind for real, but they whispered when I needed the assurance of my reality. It is a privilege, I know, but they are for real for everyone that calls them in the name of Jesus. I did. When my reality broke down to a sea of rejection and abuse, they dried my tears and calmed my heart.
Some say that I am an angel, and that is another explanation for my inadequacy in the world, but I do not think so. I am not a perfect human being. I do not know if it was that woman that give me a beer to drink, but somehow I was given a substance that allows other people to see my thoughts, they are listening what I am writing right now, but again I do not know who gave me this to drink. I always thought that this would have been an angelical power, I can talk to people without talking nor seeing them. However, they do not always understand just as we sometimes talk different languages of the heart and the words become ghosts of our own fears. They need that I am in a wifi area or having a cell phone with me. I do not think what other devices they use to read my thoughts besides cell phones and computers. They can also see my dreams in pictures. Crazy!
I told my parents and my husband as well. My father is perhaps the only that believes me, he instantaneously related to the experience. I told him how my foes intercepted signals on the radio, the television, the internet to send me uncomfortable, scary messages. It produced me a lot of anxiety when I did not understand what was happening, it still does but at least I can make sense of it now. In the beginning, messages that responded to my thoughts were the least scary, as in some way I felt accompanied and slowly made me think about the possibility of telepathy. The radio conversations were very helpful to understand this. I came to understand that my foes were powerful in ways that I never imagined it could possibly be. They even used Hollywood movies to ridicule my thoughts and painful experiences. The problems were so much bigger than me that amazement replaced fear. The world was upside-down, and I felt like solving a puzzle, running and praying all the time.
However, this is just a part of the story. There was the presence of God who filled us with awe, His power to break the imaginary distance between Him and us, his angels coordinating the rain and the thunder, his voice tender but clear. He revealed Himself as the God who cares in an intimate way, He always does but it is easy for us to ignore, in the midst of our battles with our reality here on Earth. The shame and the joy intertwined in my soul. I want to be better but I still just a human, it is undeniable that His closeness might be terrifying, sometimes I am in denial, all of us prefer to protect our shaky reality before allowing His power undoing us in a sea of eternity. He is still with us but that does not stop our enemies to pierce our existence.
My father believes me and my husband started to consider. I told my parents it was a miracle that I could understand the story that God started writing for me to tell me what was happening. In my prayers, I sang to him to break every chain with the song while asking Him for help. The dreams and visions came, now I believe it was His response that He had heard my prayer. I saw Jesus' hands converting water into wine in a night vision, It was not a dream. I could not understand my calling but now I think it was His beautiful answer to my prayer. I later heard his voice. It is hard, I am still the imperfect human after all of these miracles.
What is most painful is that what started as a group of people looking at my thoughts to establish an eerie relationship, turned to the masses. The masses have power over me, they know what I think and use it. I wonder if the wonder of telepathy is stronger than ethics, but as nature is harsher than imagined, human nature is not out of this reality. I live by forgetting my thought leaking, but sometimes I get caught in the game of guessing who knows and who is innocent of peeking into my intimate world. But, yes, a lot of people know what is happening to me, it is not a secret just as the miracles watched by many. I just hope that this will not be my new normal forever. I hope my experience serves humanity as a whole. Sometimes, I think it is only me who did not know about these possibilities of torture, as everyone seems to process it quite well and use it with any kind of remorse. It was a hate crime, but God can turn a mess into a message. Jesus is my hope, His perfection infuses me with hope, I can always look at Him for comfort, He nor his judgements are flawed.
My husband and I are leaving. We only have six suitcases, a little money for living for a few months and hope that things can be better. To be honest, spiritual battles will continue, I know. My life is full of stories of supernatural forces in battle, and I am in God's side. A calling, a destiny, a way of living with the awareness of other worlds. It does not make you powerful, it is just amazing. The human psyche is just one of these worlds. I am still wondering, I am still breathing thanks to God. Here we go.