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As I've come to trust the strength, advice and intention of the Gaia community more and more, I've opened up small bits to the various members here… I think it's time for me to share a bit more about my experiences, and how I, and several others in my life need love, prayer, healing and guidance. I think I will post this to several pods as well, so if you belong to a few of the same I do, don't worry if you see it twice. I will likely be omitting a lot of stuff as well, because I don't find it necessary for me to talk about all my paranoias. If you are truly curious, send me a message and I will fill in some of them.
As a young boy, I was constantly filled with much hyper energy, and spent my days running around. In consequence, I ended up annoying most of my peers, and wasn't very well liked among them. I guess this started me feeling somewhat like an outcast. So, when I moved, right before Middle School, when I met someone who accepted, and even liked me for who I was, I was overjoyed. The problem is, they were involved in drugs.
Like most people, when I first did drugs, I didn't know the consequences of what I was doing. I started by drinking alcohol and smoking pot at the ages of 13 and 14. The marijuana calmed my hyper energy, and it began making me more and more shy as I grew up. I never really lost my energy, I just became more internalized as the marjiuana stimulated my emotions, and made me feel them more deeply. By highschool, I was so shy, I found it hard to talk to anyone I didn't know already, and even then, if people I was not well acquainted with were around, I couldn't talk to them either.
My first time smoking crystal meth, it seemed like a miracle to me… For once I could actually talk… and to whoever I wanted to as well. In fact I babbled and rambled on for hours. As you can see, I became addicted to the drug because of this, although there were still times I would take a long break from it.
Around the time I was into this drug, I met my first spiritual teacher, Robert. He introduced me to the Astral Pulse forums, and started teaching me about deeper things. Growing up reading my mother's library of science fiction and fantasy novels, I suppose I always wished for something more than just every day reality. It probably had something to do with my rejection, or at least perceived rejection by my peers as well. Either way, I ate up this metaphysical information like candy.
Rob is a kind hearted person, and remains one of my best friends today. He always tried to convince me of the light within myself, and urged me through horrible depression, that all I needed to do was find the strength within me. He can be a tad bit abrasive at times, admittedly, but his intentions are usually in the right place. One of my first spiritual experiences was with him, although unfortunately while I was under the influence. We were talking and pondering about metaphysics like usual, when I saw a blue crack of lightning arc through the air in front of me. I remarked about it to Rob, and he said, “Don't worry, I just broke your shield.” He was always talking to me about how he didn't feel a shield was necessary, and only got in the way of interacting with others. I think his intention was good, but he didn't quite know what he was doing. After I heard that though, I panicked a little, and tried to throw them back up, and was enveloped in a HUGE torrent of energy, that seemed to rush around me from my feet, and over my head, into the heavens.
Unfortunately because of the drug, my natural defenses were weakening, and I started hallucinating… At the same time as learning all this new information and not knowing what to make of it, you can imagine how confused I was. During this time, I also met several other people who were into spirituality. One through Robert, named Louis, and one through my friend Matt, who went by the name of Jag.
Louis was a good fellow from what I could tell. Always talking about love, and the deeper meanings of things… except everything he said was deeply encrypted in metaphors. Not simple metaphors whose meaning was apparent either. I'm talking metaphors for things that shouldn't even be related to each other, but through misconceived links. Either way, I started learning to “read” so to speak, from his influence.
Jag on the otherhand had a very unique personality. Full of energy. He spoke with metaphors sometimes, but not often. He considered himself feline, and always spoke about having astral battles each night against a being he called 333, and how he was fighting to save the world. How he wanted to free us all from a place he called, “town.”
Either way, my insecurities caused by my early relationships with my peers, mixed with this weird way of looking at things, through nonsensical metaphors, combined with Jag's influence about a being named 333/ all sorts of dangers and stuff, and the Astral Pulse speaking about things called “negs” all the time, put me in quite the unhealthy state of mind. I started becoming paranoid of everyone and everything, seeing something to fear in it, or worrying that it was not what it seemed, but something meant to hurt me. I would second guess others, and myself.
Somewhere along the timeline, before my schizophrenia fully manifested, I had an experience talking to one of my friends… I tried remotely viewing them, and while in the past, normally I could envision what I thought was a person's room and stuff(whether I was fooling myself, or seeing it, I don't really know), this time I felt like I was being pushed away, after I told them what my intent was. They mentioned something about it being their guardian doing it to me, and then all of a sudden, the way they typed completely changed. I was now talking to someone claiming to be their guardian. It told me that I had amazing potential for good or evil, and spoke to me about how I wasn't doing as well as I thought I was. Arrogance and overconfidence have kind of been a problem of mine in certain ways, despite the low self esteem I had back then. Anyway, after the fact, I wanted to talk to Rob about my experience, but when I looked for the conversation in my logs, it did not exist. It was just my friend and I speaking, with no seams where our conversation would have stopped and started up again.
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My voices first manifested as the voices of those in close proximity, and they would sound like what someone's thoughts likely would be in the situations we were in. I would make too many assumptions, and think I was hearing their thoughts. I had met some new people in the motel I was living in, and had started doing crystal methamphetamine with them, after a half year break from it. By this time, I was starting to perceive most things people would say as “double talk” containing hidden malice directed at me. Looking back I realize this was just my paranoia of course.
One of the “tweakers” I had met, named Chad, needed a place to live, and he ended up living in my motel room, because I have always tried to help those in need. His nickname, interestingly enough, was Chaos. Anyway, when I first met him, he was using a torch lighter to burn holes in the bottom of normal lighters, and was attaching refillable nozzles to them. His ingenuity intrigued me, and for some reason, my first thought was, “This guy is a teacher. I could learn much from him,” and said as much to him.
An odd thing occured one of the first times I was talking to him though. He asked me out of the clear blue, “Have you ever seen that movie, 'A Beautiful Mind'?” I told him I had, and he didn't expand upon it, so I asked him why he asked, and he replied, “It's a good movie.” Either way, his voice was the first voice in my mind I heard that actually interacted with my thoughts. In time, I would start hearing the voices of all the tweakers, but until then, I mostly heard his voice making insults towards me.
Unfortunately, around this time, the drug I was doing and likely the drugs I did in the past not only began(or continued) weakening my aura and chakras, but it sent my mind into overload, racing at too high speeds. So by this time, I was starting to make metaphorical links between totally unrelated things, with a paranoid and scared mind, at a million miles a minute. I started thinking about all sorts of possibilities, because I had no formal training or education in deeper religions or spirituality, just a casual amateur's knowledge and intuition.
I began hearing voices every time I was on any drug of any sort, and my perception of reality was starting to become seriously altered. They started teaching me falsehoods, like there were things I had to beware of. Like the government having these psychic sweepers that could find people like myself who heard these voices. They also tried to make me compact my aura, and keep it in dense places in my head, instead of broadcasting it so brightly and loudly, since the methamphetamine acted as an “a-zone booster but with a price” as Jag would put it. I realize now that by doing this, trying to compact all that energy into two small balls on either side of my head, caused me great damage in those areas, and I still feel pressure in those areas often to this day.
They did try to teach me something helpful though. While I was playing around with visualization and my imagination, making a ball of ice that bounced around the room, and left crystals where it touched, they told me to begin repeating a phrase over and over. They told me to say, “I am the truth,” and just to focus on it. I read later that this is a technique for opening the throat chakra, and helping you to express yourself better.
Around this time, my closest friend died of a heroin overdose… The odd thing is, I didn't learn about it till a few days after the fact. Well, not officially of course. The night it happened, I had kicked Chad out of my room, because I had become scared of him and his friends, who were sharpening knives. I didn't feel safe at the motel right then, so I called my father, and got a ride with him to his girlfriend's house. While I was walking to the car, I heard Chad's voice say, “That's the power of death,” and all of a sudden, I felt a huge rush of energy flow through me. I didn't understand it at the time, but I'm pretty sure that's when Karl died.
I was deeply saddened, because I felt he was one of the few people I had in person who I could actually relate with, and talk about things with. I was asked to be a pall bearer at his funeral, and ended up carrying him to his final resting place. His mother, who knew that him and I did drugs together at times asked me one thing… To quit doing drugs.
I verymuch so wanted to do this now… being a tad bit afraid of the voices that were manifesting, and seeing what they did to Karl. I started off strong, and stayed completely clean for a few days… but I broke down eventually, and smoked meth again, because I was of weak will, and greedy for it. That was the worst day of my life…
The voices this time, started off being their usual selves I felt I could trust in… I thought they were the tweakers I was hanging around with. This time they told me that they were everything, and that they wanted me to be everything with them too. They prettymuch offered me the power of a god. Being young, naive, under the influence of a drug that totally warped my thoughts and even a tad bit innocent, I of course thought this was exciting.
Because of certain things I had attached bad metaphorical value to, I basically designed a ritual, thinking it was what they were telling me to do, rather than realizing I was making assumptions. I ended up doing this, and then wondered, “Wait, now how do I join with everything?” I told myself, “I have to kill myself, huh?” and went on with my assumptions, instantly thinking them to be true. I assumed that the tweakers had already killed themselves too, and that's how they were everything right now, while before they were just astral projecting or talking to me telepathically when we spoke. I couldn't bring myself to kill myself, luckily.
It was around this time that I started fearing what would happen if I had the power of god, which I assumed I did at that point. I still thought the voices were on my side at this point in time, and I stupidly told them that they could hold onto my “godly power” till I was ready for it, and could control my thoughts better. I think I realized I was paranoid, but didn't at the same time. That's when they started getting mean…
No longer did they seem like they were out to help me, but they started talking of these horrible things. About how they tricked me, and controlled things now. I remembered something Louis told me long ago, about how I should write down things that happened to me, and for some reason I thought that would help. So I started writing down things, trying to counteract what they were saying. At this point I had begun to totally panic. The paranoid thoughts began to stream through my mind non-stop. I tried depserately to show them that if they let me live, and join them, I could help them make fun things.
Either way, leaving out a bunch of stuff in these next parts, I started hanging out with my friend Quinn who lived next door. We ended up walking to the mall together, while I thought these paranoid thoughts, and built up a ridiculous story of what was going on/going to happen in my head. We got to the mall, and the voices had told me that in life, I would always have two choices, but I would be doomed to make the wrong one every single time(which has become apparently not true).
We met Chad at the mall, and I didn't know what to do at that point. I could barely talk, I was so lost in thoughts, and being deceived by the voices non-stop. I tried to convince Chad and everyone else that we should start walking a certain way, probably because I was thinking I had to find the right way/right choice, but they said, “You can walk that way,” and started walking in the other direction. So for the next few hours(or what seems like hours, I can't tell), I am wandering around the mall aimlessly lost in my thoughts. Somehow I've got it in my head that if any choice I make is wrong, that I must find the “middle path.” Unfortunately, at the time, I took this to mean a literal path, and that whenever there were three paths to take while walking around, ONE of the middle paths would be the right one…
Anyway, around this time, a new set of voices manifested. These with more sinister voices, who spoke in chanting tones. They kept saying really quickly all these things that were going to happen to me… and at the end, just started yelling, “WE FUCKED YOU WE FUCKED YOU WE FUCKED YOU!” over and over… I started walking home, but because of certain things I thought that awaited me there, I turned around and walked back to the mall. Around this time, the voices told me that they were created by both Louis and I, as a method for destroying the world, and as you can see, this caused a lot of paranoia in me, and fear of my friend Louis…
Either way, I wandered around the mall more, the story getting more complex and scary each moment, until I ran into my friend Lance… He was with my friend Jaime's cousins, so I pulled him aside and explained things to him a little. He offered to give me a ride, and I accepted. Stupidly enough, I smoked some pot with him, before the ride, although I things were already to the point where it didn't seem to matter. He started driving me back to my motel, but I suddenly thought, “I can't go back there!!!! They're going to kill me!” and said this out loud.
Lance was confused, and asked me where I wanted to go. I felt safer and more comfortable around Lance, him being on of my closest friends, and someone who has always supported me. I really wanted to keep hanging out with him, but he was on his way to Jaime's sister's birthday party, so he made it clear I could definitely not go with him. Frantic, I begged him, thinking that death awaited me at the motel for sure… I finally gave in, and accepted I couldn't go with him, but I still refused to go back to that motel. So… he takes me to Karl's house…
I will never be able to face his mother again after that day. I come into her home, obviously high on drugs, and deranged out of my mind… and just sit on her couch for a moment, staring at the TV while she watches it, without saying anything. I don't know what she thought, but as an excuse for being there, I told her I needed to go to the hospital.
Looking back I feel awful, because the night that Karl died, before I called my dad, I called his mother, and tried to tell her that I got mixed up with some really bad people, and needed to go somewhere I felt more safe. What I ended up saying though, due to a tone on the phone that I took to be a warning not to mention the tweakers(I thought they ran the motel and were warning me not to be a “rat”), was, “I've gotten mixed up with some really bad… *beeeeep* …drugs. I need to go to the hospital, I am having problems breathing.” She couldn't help though, and I ended up bugging my dad until he came.
Either way, she drives me to the hospital, and stays with me for a little while. I try to call my parents, for help for what to do while at the hospital… but for the life of me, not only can I not remember their numbers, at this point, I don't even know how to properly use a phone, I'm so lost in these metaphors. I recalled a dream I once had where I was told at a “spirit guide reception desk” that if I ever didn't know what to do, I should dial 990. So I tried this, but it didn't work. After 10 or 15 minutes of pressing random numbers, I finally figure things out and get a call through to my mother. Karl's mom had left, probably disgusted with me, but in time both my parents came to the hospital.
They gave me a form to fill out, but instead of filling it out, I keep writing my current thoughts on the paper. Again, it turns into some weird sort of ritual or something, as I describe all these weird things, trying to counteract all this crap and try to choose my “house” as I was told by Rob I needed to do while talking to him(although I suspect that it wasn't him I was speaking to, but another experience like the guardian. He told me the next day he couldn't remember anything of that night, because he was on mushrooms).
After looking at my paper, and it's finally my turn to be seen, they merely took a blood sample(probably found out I was on methamphetamine), and referred me to the hospital psychologist. He examined me, and gave my parents a card to the local Behavior Health Center. My parents drove me home, and I didn't sleep for the next three nights…
I've omitted a lot, but that was the first day of a year or two of horrible paranoid schizophrenia. Around the middle to end of the second year, my medicine had started helping immensely, and by the end of the third(around January or February of this year), I felt good enough to stop taking my anti-psychotics. I haven't had many problems since.
The first year though, I totally isolated myself from everyone, online and off, but started going online again afterwards. Things had changed a little. Jag was nowhere to be found… but Louis was starting to get a tad bit… how do I say this… “loopy” I guess. He was always heavily into drugs. Perhaps even moreso than I. He had written an entire book full of seemingly randomness, with all sorts of weird inter-word-play, and metaphors that were up to you to give meaning to. He claimed it was a story of his experiences. Either way, I read it, as a courtesy to a friend, even though his disclaimer said not to read it if you were easily influenced by things.
A short while later though, the nice, intelligent and a tad bit out there guy I knew started changing. Apparently he had developed a crush, or perhaps even an obsession, with a TV personality from a children's show called the Big Comfy Couch. She was a clown, and I guess he liked how she taught children about love and joy. Anyway, he sent a copy of his book to her, hoping that she would star in a movie adaptation of it. =/ …and when she never responded, he felt horribly hurt and betrayed.
His whole demeanor changed, and apparently he had taken a lot of influence from Jag, who taught that the planets and sun were entities you could read. He became interested in demons and stuff, and started saying things purposefully to cause fear, like he hated and wanted to destroy things. My friend Rob said that he started saying random words he made up to him, and it was scaring him as well…
The first person I would like to ask for prayers for is my partner, Ronni. I was overjoyed when after I got to know her, she admitted her love for me. She says it in a way that is more sincere than I have ever been told it before. I fully trust her, and love her with my whole being. After we had dated for a while, she admitted to me that she was schizophrenic as well. I had only mentioned that I was schizophrenic to her briefly, discussing none of what I'd been through… but what she's described to me fits the bill of much I've had to deal with. Her's is actually worse in a way. My hallucinations were always audial, but she both hears and sees things. Things that drive her to tears at times…
Anyway, Louis is another of those I'd like you to pray for. If I understand anything, because of his drug use, he might have gone/is going through similar things that I did. He may have reacted differently than I did, but he was a good being at heart before the drugs. I worry about him a lot, but I blocked him long ago, because in his state of mind, continuing to talk to him had really flared up paranoias I had started to put back down. I've always felt guilty there wasn't more I could have done to help him. I did give him words of encouragement and advice, but I don't think he really listened to them. At times I feel like looking him up again, and offering my advice now that I've progressed so much, but I still have too much paranoia associated with him. =/ Just thinking about him at times makes me worry about things I shouldn't.
Another of those I'd like you to pray for is my friend Rob. He has always been a source of strength, and most of the time, good advice in my life. Recently though, after numerous deaths in his family in a matter of years, and a horrible pill addiction(which reminds me, I should say, I've been clean for 3 years off all harder drugs, more than a year off marijuana, and 7 months off alcohol), he's started having a very negative outlook towards life, and existence. He's had suicidal thoughts, but he admits he would never do it. It seems like all sorts of horrible things just happen to him one after another.
Matt, another friend of mine. The one who introduced me to Jag. I would also like to ask for prayer for. He was long led astray by Jag, and is full of confusion. He also has a horrible rage problem, and sometimes feels like he'll end up killing someone. He too had a problem seeing 333 everywhere like I did, and we both thought it was a being that wanted to fight us, and was against us, because of what Jag spoke about. He's recently turned to Christianity though, and it seems to be helping him. Our views on spiritual matters don't coincide much, so we don't talk about them much, but I feel he needs help.
Lastly, I would ask that you pray for me. I feel a tad bit selfish asking for it, but I really need strength and support, as I try to support my friends, and help guide them. Tonight, I had sleep/astral/dream paralysis for the first time in many many months, and Louis was in it. He seemed like he really wanted to mess with me and hurt me, but I gave him a hug and told him how I felt about wanting to help him, but not being brave or strong enough at the time, and he seemed to ease up, saying, “You brought me back.” The earlier parts of the dream were very confusing though, where I was sexually assaulted by another being while being unable to move.
…but I'm rambling. I've recently been attuned to level 1 Reiki by the wonderful Nikki, and have high hopes for it's healing powers not only for myself, but for my friends. I am guessing this relapse of mine might be what I was told to expect as Reiki begins to run it's cleansing course. I've been working on keeping myself from wandering too far down paths of thought that evidence on is not readily availible as well, and am just trying to enjoy the simple things in life.
Anyway, I would like to thank anyone who took the time to read this gigantic post, and send them much love…
Kyle
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