Sorry for the late post, everyone. Honestly I have no idea what to post about. Today was kind of odd, yet kind of predictable. One of the reasons I couldn’t hold a day job very well, apart from the fact that I tend to fly by night, is headaches. There are so many sources for me. Migraines, created by light sensitivity; menstrual headaches; generally headaches are a response to stress; and then there are days like today. I woke up freezing, which would have meant nothing ordinarily. I have thyroid issues, and my core temperature tends to get a little to low when I sleep. Turns out it never made it out of the fifties today. It’s early September in East-Central Illinois, normally the temperature is pretty stable in the sixties and seventies. Got up, turned the heat on, and noticed the blistering headache. Lately my dreams have been heavily plagued by my mother’s presence, a woman I am both angry with and afraid of, and I have been waking up with these headaches. Normally I sleep with a wolf totem under my pillow because it keeps these dreams at bay. But for about three weeks now I have had vivid dreams, either of her or of things I am afraid of, and woken up with terrible headaches that fade within half an hour or so. Today I had fallen asleep on the couch.
This ability seems linked in some way with my cycle. The strongest visions were always when I was getting my period, and they weakened when I could no longer get the medication that kept them regular, because I couldn’t seem to do that on my own. I also experienced moments of astral projection. First as a little girl, then they abated when I hit puberty. Then when I began to truly embrace my magical potential, which had always been there, they became far more frequent. They have faded again, though they happen a few times a year. All episodes are when I’m between awake and fully asleep.
Since I broke ties with my mother, and my friends and I broke the vampiric connection she had with me, she has occasionally been present in a spiritual sense, as I try to sleep. Or I will do something, and it is as if she takes the same action at the same time. And now these dreams. I have been dealing with waves of momentary fear, sensory recall of some of the darkest moments of my life. When I’m unlocking my current apartment’s door, I’ll be unlocking the door of my old apartment all of a sudden, in the hallway of the building around which my mother used to hang out trying to get in touch. When she wasn’t there, she left quite a spiritual imprint. Or the trapped sense of desolation I felt at that place will come over me when I sit in my living room. Like psychic flashes of old pain. It’s been bad lately, making me feel like I walk on a beam above a vast canyon, lined with monsters whose jaws are open, claws reaching, to draw me back into the bad old times. It seems I could so easily lose my grip on what I have. These dreams, of her involved in the craziest situations. And I wonder if they are linked. The fear, the moments of painful psychic recall, the feeling of walking along an unstable beam and trying to keep a grasp on the life I am trying to build for myself, and the dreams of her. I love what I have. I have friends, a comfortable home, ways to be creative and express myself, the freedom to make my own choices, and relative financial stability. I don’t want to lose what little I have to hold onto.
My divinatory power seems linked to blood, my period, when it comes to dreams. It is also linked to blood, though not menstrual blood, in the form of my fire scrying. I don’t use flame to become entranced. I use it to connect to a fire oracle, a pale-skinned redhead in a flowing black gown who walks in a realm of fire, and knows all. She is connected to the Mc Clouds and to a Celtic goddess. She has reached out to me at rituals around a bonfire, calling me to speak to her. She has even been caught on camera, an eye in the fire. But I can speak to her this way, and she uses me to speak to others who are with me when they ask questions. My power, though it comes from a family torn apart by fighting and emotional abuse, is what has given me a sense of pride for years. I had forgotten much of what I sensed and did as a little girl, but never given up on it deep down. When I found it, I took the first step beyond the anger. Back then I didn’t know how broken things were. I was experimenting with magic, beginning to recognize bisexual tendencies in myself, and I enjoyed the creativity and the gain of knowledge high school gave me. I felt more in tune with my magical self at school during senior year, when I finally found friends who understood that. I had been, with those I associated with, one step back from those my heart needed to find, for years. And though most of us have scattered, forging paths deeper into the Pagan/occult realm or just parallel to it, I still feel at home here. I don’t want to walk in the mundane world, where magic is hidden and therefore much harsher, more disruptive. The night can have me, metaphorically speaking.