Forgiveness.
Surrender.
Trust.
Surrender.
Compassion.
Surrender.
Surrender.
I had no idea that the following months would consist of some of the worst hell I could ever imagine. The communication issues we shared made me feel disregarded, unappreciated and far from a priority. I continued to show up for him while he continued to fall short on the reciprocation. It was nearly impossible for me to not personalize this and my abandonment issues were spilling out all over the place, mostly in the form of anger and rage.
I would blast a million messages to him about how careless and disrespectful he was. I would block him from contacting me one moment because it was the only way I felt I could take my power back and, in the next moment, send him an email because I knew his hurting me was completely unconscious and unintentional.
I began to have nightmares of my childhood, of my mother leaving me to suffer when I needed her. In one such nightmare, my mother and I were supposed to be boarding a plane together. She disappeared and came back drunk, driving a red SUV. She purposely crashed the SUV full speed into a wall. I ran over to the driver’s side to see if she was ok. I begged her to tell me why she didn’t want to live. She just stared ahead like she always did when I was a child, with tears coming down her face. “Because you have everything.” She responded.
In another nightmare, I was hungry and she had a pile of food but wouldn’t share it. I asked her if she could just make me rice and I could use just a little of the flavoring from her food so it didn’t have to be dry and bland. She just looked through me, like she always did. And in yet another dream, she was fucking men in front of me and laughing while I was crying.
I experienced this every single night.
One night I was dreaming that I was pleading and crying, explaining to my stepfather, Charlie, all the things she does and how I feel – I woke up hysterically screaming in my bed. I revisited taking sleep aids because I was experiencing so much anxiety at night. It didn’t stop the nightmares. This went on for weeks.
I wrote the following poem during this time:
She haunts me in my sleep.
I haven’t spoken to her in years.
Yet she’s with me every night.
She laughs when I’m in pain.
She disregards me when I’m in need.
She abandons me when I’m desperate.
She taunts me when I’m enraged.
She doesn’t feel my pain.
She has no empathy.
She exploits my insecurities.
She feels pleasure when I suffer.
But I need her.
I need her to comfort me.
I need her to hold me.
I need her to protect me.
I need her to console me.
I feel, no, I AM – so alone.
She laughs when I cry, but I can’t hit her.
I want to break her, but I can’t reach her.
I want to hurt her. I can’t escape her.
I want to attack her. I can’t convince her.
I want to destroy her, but she destroys me first.
Every time.
In every way.
She wins.
I lose.
I am defeated.
Get out of my head.
Get out of my dreams.
Get out of my life.
I can still hear your voice.
Just get out.
I hate you.
For never loving me.
Desperate, I immersed myself further into the spiritual community. Not only was I suffering in pain, but my metaphysical gifts and experiences were shifting. His higher, 5th dimensional self, began to visit me while his 3D self remained unconscious. These visits were frequent. Things started to piece together. I remembered when I was with him in Los Angeles, he had told me that he was visited by entities that scared him, that he had never experienced anything like that before. I had, however. I have had entities visit me many times, both kind ones and scary ones. I had been experiencing this mediumship for years. I was starting to understand that our union posed a threat to the ones who don’t operate from a place of unconditional love. I sent him crystals and told him how to use them, but I didn’t tell him exactly what was going on. I didn’t want to scare him.
I was also led to send him a book I read back in 2008. He reached out to me and told me he was shocked that his spiritual advisor had given him the same book two days prior. The whole situation was so authentic for me at this point, nothing shocked me. I found it adorable that he thought all of these synchronicities were so “crazy.” I wanted to kiss him and protect him one moment and choke him the next. I would be so frustrated as to why he didn’t recognize me, even when I knew in my heart that he did. Needless to say, the situation was becoming easier in some ways because I no longer felt insane. I was receiving validation from the spiritual community and from my own metaphysical experiences that the pain he was triggering in me was part of the process. I did my best to surrender, though it happened in tiers, and not so gracefully.
I began to work with others in the metaphysical community about my situation, specifically about the work that I needed to do with myself. It was apparent that I had a tremendous amount of pain inside of me from my childhood. I was advised to go into the pain of incidents that hurt me as a child, however, it is not that simple when you have dissociative complex trauma. All I could do was invite it to be purged.
The last few weeks I remained in India, I didn’t know at the time, but I was holding onto that pain – maybe because it was familiar, maybe because I believed I deserved it. Whatever the reason, I held onto it.
I wrote this journal entry at the end of February, 2017:
The twin flame dynamic is like having your insides ripped out and a stake driven through your soul. I wanted to tell him that every night his higher self and mine unite. Sometimes he is writing me letters while I’m sitting next to him. Other times he is just holding space for me. One time he came over to me and simply covered me with a blanket when I was cold. His 5D self operates from a place of unconditional love, yet his ego operates from a place of fear. He is love. I feel like his higher self is even waiting for him to wake up. Still, my anger is directed at myself. I know that he is my mirror and I still have work to do. I wonder if my anger will ever subside. I acted like a psycho when I left. That is now his new excuse for being afraid, but this is his fear about his own inadequacy and it has nothing to do with me. I wish he would wake up. I thought I could maintain my consciousness while dealing with his unconsciousness, but I have failed. I’m more and more convinced that this is my flame, as he rips open karmic wounds. I resent him a lot now. I’m really angry. Angry at myself for letting him in. Angry at him for being a coward. I’m angry that he is my mirror and that I have to STILL work on self-love. I don’t want to fucking work on self-love. I’m scared. Scared and exhausted. I do not have hope that we will be together in this lifetime. He has pushed me away. I do not feel I can ever trust him again – in many ways, I do not feel like I can trust him. He gaslights me by telling me that I have too much time on my hands and this is the reason I am upset with him. I tried to show him that I would stand by him no matter what he goes through, but he’s too busy running. Running from himself.
At the beginning of March, I was on a layover flight in Delhi when I started to experience a lot of anger. I obtained the wifi in the airport and immediately messaged a friend and mentor of mine. I told her I felt like I was going to snap. “How could he not see who I am?” I asked her, “how many synchronicities does he need?” She immediately told me to go deeper. She reminded me that these were just triggers of a more painful situation. I asked her if this was the part where I go into the pain of my mother. “This is it,” she replied.
I proceeded to sit down in the corner of Delhi airport and take out my notebook. It was here, with tears streaming down my face making it almost impossible to see, that I channeled my inner child for the first time in my life. Unlike my higher self who speaks to me in second person, she spoke in first person.
Dear Mom,
You brought me into this world. Why did you even have me if you didn’t want me? You fucking hate me. You never even held me when I was born and you acted annoyed when people asked you why. I inconvenienced you with my existence. I remember coming to you because I needed you and you sent me away. I needed you to hold me. All you did was scare me on purpose and watch while I suffered.
That blank fucking stare you had when I would address you – when I was a kid and when I was an adult. You wouldn’t even look at me. You would just stare ahead with tears in your eyes because my I annoyed you and inconvenienced you. I was a small child. You were annoyed by my voice. Fuck you for staring and crying. What kind of selfish narcissist are you? I fucking dream about that stare. What do you dream about?
I moved home to be close to you that summer and all you did was ask me when I was leaving so you could drink. I feel so worthless because of you. I looked up to you. You would get enraged when I showed you I wanted to be like you. Why?
It was your disregard for me that hurt, and continues to hurt, the most. You’re stupid fucking boundaries when I needed you. I fucking hate you. I was your entertainment. You said disgusting things about everyone that I loved. You ripped Charlie away from me. You walked all over him but he was never flat enough for you. He was everything to me. He begged you to be kind to him and stop picking on him but you had to pick and now he’s gone. And I’m still here. Alone.
I sat on the floor of Delhi airport and sobbed for an hour. Shortly after, I boarded a plane to Abu Dhabi, my layover to Los Angeles. I fell asleep for the first time that month without sleep medication. I don’t even remember the plane taking off.
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