Dream Predicting My Dad's Demise

The last dream I had this morning prior to waking was a disturbing one.

My dad and I were walking somewhere. I jumped enthusiastically off a curb. Before I hit the ground, my dad told me not to, it was high in the air and a harder fall then I was expecting. I landed and it was fine and I was annoyed with him.

There were a bunch of Max tracks, like three sets. My dad was walking very very slowly in a decrepit fashion. The Max trains were unable to stop if someone was on the tracks. There was a train coming and he was walking slowly across the tracks, like the tracks were particularly hard to cross over. I watched helplessly as a train came, and braced myself, and it was a train on a different track. For the love of God hurry. He was shaking and balancing his feet on one track, still the first track. The trains came frequently, and another one came and it was on a different track again.

Only a matter of time. If he doesn't move as quickly as possible, which he wasn't, the next train was going to hit him and guts would be splattered everywhere.

Rachel Refused a Hug and Got in Trouble

The only reason I hug my parents is because they want me to. I don't particularly enjoy the physical contact, okay. Just now my mom startled me. I wasn't mad. Asked me a question and then asked for a hug. I refused.

Apparently that meant I wasn't doing well.

I've seen this behavior before in my mom. One time, I was reading my mom's email, and she mentioned the hand touching she does in the car is a test of my mood.

I wanted to point out to her, no it isn't. Sometimes I just don't want to. Actually, I never want to, but it's not that big of a deal to hold her hand for a second. That's a manic/depressive test, basically.

I tried to point this out to her. I just didn't feel like hugging. I'm not in a bad mood. I'm doing fine. Except, when I did, I got a little bit too worked up about it because I hate this. She's not that bright, I don't want another email to my psychiatrist about mania. Even he claims they are excessive and her reasoning is groundless.

Anyway, my dad talked to me about outbursts. He tried to tell me that I should listen to them about how well I am doing. I told him it was my right not to listen. I still have freedom over what I am doing in my own mind. I didn't say that part out loud.

I tried to explain it was due to psychology, not mania. There are things bugging the psyche. And he said that doesn't make people have outbursts. At this point, I'm done.

I can't explain any of this due to the intelligence gap. And I tried to explain to him that he's not all that bright and he is a know it all, instead I yelled it very loudly.

Apparently I am on edge due to a strange bout of energetic stuff and MUCH MUCH MORE!!! Including spiritual stuff and shit.

Communist Propaganda Dream

I had a really interesting dream.

There was some sort of issue with foreign people. They were hunters. They were supposed to be harmless, but when they came we would hide from them. I had a hard time manipulating my body to put it in the right place to hide properly from them. However, I intuitively had a sense of where they were going to go, so I intuitively had a sense of where to hide.

Two of them drew pictures of me. At first, when I was looking at the pictures, I thought they were flattering. Later, I took a closer look. Even though I was depicted as pretty, I was depicted as older than I was and every single white head on my face was depicted. Every single one. It was weird.

They were violent and kept shooting us. At the same time, there were these restaurants where you could eat the fattening food of the gods. In the hallways of these restaurants, there were whistling noises played over the loud speakers, like wow, aren't you attractive! I was eating at them, but realized what was going on and was trying to break free. The restaurants were set up by the same people who sent the hunters.

I got up from the table where the food was, and left into the hall where the whistling was. This place wreaked of hatred, like they were feeding us, making us fat, and hunting us. Like, they were giving themselves a reason to hate us, and then killing us. I hid from quite a few of the hunters.

I had left my family and was running away from them. After quite a few scary shootings where I wasn't hurt, I crossed an interstate and found a group of people with black flags with designs on them. I was scared at first, thinking it was the communist Russians. When I got closer, the flags changed and they were American flags. These people were the good guys. I joined them, was welcomed by them, and we were all singing the Star Spangled banner.

My guides said this dream was not sent by them, it was cooked up by my psyche.

Sweet Tomato Incident

I have blown up and screamed at both of my parents on separate occasions recently. Yes, I am on edge because I am hungry, so I don't have a lot of patience.

First incident came when my mom told me to unload the fridge (our fridge is broken). I started throwing away the salad dressing containers that are sitting around in the fridge and are too empty for me to want to put them on salad. Then, my mom started doing it instead. I don't remember what she said next, but she said she started doing it because I wasn't and she was annoyed. I screamed at her.

I think it was excessive then to scream at her for that, but then again, it all comes back to the Sweet Tomato incident.

The other time with my dad, really really pissed me off and still does. So I was at home starving, because wow, my metabolism is high... I eat and then a few hours later I am ravenous again. There is no food in the house. I am gluten free, dairy free, lots of veggies... In other words, I don't want to eat some junk. So, I decided to spend my money eating soup and salad at Stanford's by my house. I didn't want to do this, but my dad got mad when I asked if we could go to the grocery store and said he's busy and we don't have a fridge. So what the fuck am I supposed to do? Eat some freezer shit I'm not supposed to eat? That's what's helping my mood a lot now (that's an understatement) the fact that I am on the fast track to getting back in shape. Anyway, so I walked to Stanford's and spent twenty bucks on lunch, then worked out at the gym which is nearby. It was an excellent work out. Anyway, I'm sick. I don't want to walk outside at all! So I called my dad when I was done and asked if he could pick me up. On the way home, he asked me if I was at Stanford's. I will point out, right now I'm not angry, but I should have been. He is looking at my location on the fucking Find Friends app. Then he started lecturing me about how spending twenty bucks on lunch is not bright and when he goes out, he spends less. Right, because he eats at BURGER KING!!!!

So I snapped and screamed at him. I got out of the car and went back in the house. Then I was still mad at him. He asked me why I was mad. Whatever my reasoning was no reason to scream. I said because he's a bad father.

So as for the father one, talk about annoying, anyway, I was worried about this. I was worried because I had a med change recently, and I don't want them to take me off something I want to be on or say I'm manic or act at all like outbursts are a problem. There are psychological reasons why this makes me angry. There is something bugging my psyche with both my parents. And it is...

THE SWEET TOMATO INCIDENT!!!!

The Sweet Tomato Incident involves my dad in November of 2014. My mom was out of town. After being out and about, I am picked up by my dad and we go to eat at Sweet Tomato. Now, at this moment, and for the past nearly 3 weeks, I have been going through extreme psychological stress to the point where my sanity was seriously at risk. Yeah, let's just say that.

I don't complain to my parents about the Sweet Tomato incident. The reason is, it involves filling them in on something I have tucked away in a file in my mind labelled don't tell your parents this in a million years. It involves bringing them in to my world, a world they don't believe in. It raises quite a few questions. What were you going through? Why were you under psychological stress? And I don't want to answer this question. Leave this subject the fuck alone.

Anyway, so I do have the bad habit of over filling my plate at the salad bar. I take a lot more than I can eat.

So we sat down, and I am eating. I am not paying attention to my dad, or at least trying not to. We are not engaged in conversation. I am in my own world. A god awful world I really don't want to talk about. I have not slept. I have disgusting repulsive images going through my head all the time. Please, leave me the fuck alone.

"You took a lot of salad there Rachel."

Five seconds later.

"You took a lot of salad there Rachel."

Two minutes later.

"You took a lot of salad there Rachel. Please, it annoys the workers when you leave a lot of food on your plate."

SHUT THE FUCK UP!! Okay, Captain Hindsight, I took two much salad. What am I supposed to do now?

And that's where it ends on a conscious level. On a subconscious level, I was thinking, "Seriously, are you trying to get me to shove food down my face too! Like you do?"

And it helps a lot that my dad is morbidly obese due to his excessive eating habits.

There is some repressive memory force behind this memory. I am in my own world, I am too weak to tell him to SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!!

SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!

SHUT YOUR FUCKING FAT FACE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anyway, so we went home and it was done. Then, later, apparently my mom wanted in on this incident. She wanted to prove to me that she would have done exactly the same thing. I will link you back to the blog entry titled "Sound of my Mother's Weeping." The short version is, I wanted to go to Sweet Tomatoes for my birthday, my mom didn't because of my embarrassing salad habits. I got annoyed and eventually started crying, later I was eating dinner and my mom walked in the room and told me in a really weird way marked with self-pity that she cleaned the kitchen up after me. All by herself. I was about to, I like to eat dinner before I clean the kitchen. As she was walking away, I swear I heard fake sobs. I couldn't believe my ears.

Anyway, a couple weeks later I was at home and I was getting food out to eat, and my mom got mad and said she had just cleaned the kitchen. It was all I could do not to lose my mind and flip, but I did my best keeping myself under control. It was very hard work.

The reason I would scream at my mom for saying I wasn't helping goes back to the Sweet Tomato incident. And so does the incident with my dad.

Paranormal in Pop Culture

I hate pop culture references to the paranormal. I hate astrology in general. I hate paranormal horror movies. I hate ghost hunters.

I do not believe in astrology. I was told by my guides, there are eastern forms of divination using the stars that have merit. Meaning, not all astrology is complete bullshit. But western astrology is bullshit.

My mom watches ghost hunters. That show annoys me. It's not entertaining to watch, for one. Plus, I don't understand why they are so intent on harassing ghosts. If the ghost did appear, everyone would be freaked out in a bad way.

I hate horror movies in general, but paranormal horror movies are cheesy. That's it.

I was on youtube looking up mantras and eastern music. Actually, I was looking up something called subliminals. I noticed they have subliminals you listen to for nine minutes to make you prettier. How cheesy.

Anyway, the reason I bring this up with, I am annoyed in general with this phenomenon of corny paranormal references. It makes new age beliefs and things like that seem like a joke. Adds fuel to the fire of atheists. Deters people of all ages from believing in the paranormal.

I would like to explain things to people, so that they will understand that the paranormal is not some sort of hoakey scam or joke.

When You Take Adderall Out of the Equation

What I hear from my dad that gets in the way of me living my life at times....

"When you go down hill, it always takes you exceptionally long to recover! You're always down for a really long time! Why can't you see it?"

The reason is, back when I took Adderall... Each time I went "down hill," they took me off Adderall.

When I was off Adderall, every single time, I don't feel like getting out of bed. I feel like shit.

If you look at the history, the exact moment I started to recover was the moment I got the Adderall prescription back.

But this was written not as cause and effect, but effect and then cause.

If we just never took me off Adderall, there would be no problem!

"But that's not what the bipolar literature says."

If I wrote the "bipolar literature," it wouldn't say that. It would say a lot of different stuff. And it wouldn't be called that either.

The First Episode: An Exercise in Psychological Remodelling At the Extreme

The thing I wanted to talk about today was, my first delusional episode.

This was the thing that tore my life apart, through my life upside down, pulled it inside out, and changed me as a person so much I didn't recognize myself afterwards.

It's the kind of thing that made me a real person, and gave me as a person substance. Because it was interesting.

But the thing I puzzle over constantly is, what changed? Everything. But what in particular changed. I don't know. I can't point to anything at all and pinpoint, well that personality trait changed. All I know is, the initial episode changed everything about me at the same time.

That's why it's a real slap in the face to get unfriended on Facebook over something like this. There was a girl who, through understanding of the social dynamics of some of my social circles, that is the reason she unfriended me, she heard a rumor. And it's like, even if it had been something depressing, or something I wasn't proud of, or something mundane that resulted in delusions, or something I was ashamed of, that would be awful for different reasons. But it was this, the initial episode.

Anyway, this particular unfriending was something that contributed hardcore to my battle with extreme depression and suicidal ideations when I was at Innercept. I don't get any feedback whatsoever about what people are really thinking, because they are not talking to me. I'm not really on speaking terms with them (nothing bad, no phone numbers, didn't keep in touch, I'm not going to write them awkwardly on Facebook for feedback.) The person I am talking to is not responding to me because there is something seriously wrong with him. And what I didn't know that I know now is, is this the kind of thing that other people treat with sensitivity? The answer is absolutely.

Nightmare

I had this dream where there was something that was an allegory for Innercept. There was some device with some kind of design, and my mom and I went down and it did something. It was a scam. If you look at the design, which the company wouldn't show you but the dream did, it actually didn't do anything at all.

Then, I went off on some sort of ride. This part of the dream had a strong "woooh! Scary!" effect. By that I mean, it was trying to scare me, and it was, I kept trying to scream and not be able to. However, what it comes down to is, this is my psyche. It failed to scare me in a real way. It was trying to be eerie. Trying to imitate the classic eerie nightmare I had when I was 10 with new material. Something like, It stopped, started playing music, and the music went along with a crashing plane. It was stuff like that over and over again. I kept trying to scream, but kept getting annoyed. Come on, you can do better than that dream. You're not really scaring me.

I woke up, breathed deeply from exhaustion, used the restroom, then returned to my room to discuss the dream with my guides. I turned on the lights in my bedroom, and I was informed what the dream was about. That is a secret.

Anyway, it's about something in my life that has a little bit of hype as a scary thing but is actually a good thing in the end.

Anyway, when I went to turn off the light, my door was locked. I had locked my door. It's weird that I  would lock my door when I was a little bit shaken up and scared from the dream. Anyway.

Spiritual Attack In the Middle of the Night

So recently my brain was functioning so poorly I went to the hospital... I stayed afterward at a crisis center. The place was haunted. I woke up feeling scared, and there was this awful spiritual unrest feeling.

Anyway, last night I was having a dream. It was a dream that Facebook was announcing something I did to all my Facebook friends via notifications. It was something I didn't do, or did but then regretted. Actually, I think it was something I never did that the dream was trying to convince me I did.

Anyway, I kept almost waking up, and I kept hearing this alarm like my phone ringing. Except, my phone wasn't really ringing. This isn't important, just something that was happening.

I woke up and I was in a state of sleep paralysis. There was this spirit coming from my crotch (I haven't had sex recently) attacking me and holding me down or something. It lasted a couple seconds, was very unpleasant, then I woke up.

I was wondering where my guides were through this. Apparently, they were taking care of the situation as quickly as possible, but it was a really nasty spirit I picked up that they didn't know about from the crisis center that was hard to get rid of.

Icosahedron

The icosahedron is a symbol of my spiritual journey. An icosahedron is a 20-sided geometric object.

I had a dream that I was in gym class, playing tennis. I was having a good time but I couldn't hit the ball. Then, the ball went to the other side of the room, and it was an icosahedron. Then, it became massive. I couldn't look at it. It was horrific to look at. The reason was, my mind was examining the same image on a subconscious level.

What does this dream mean?

My guides say, this was a sent dream to remind me that the journey is not over.

The End of The Line

So we have come to the end of the line for weird occurrences, and this is when we wonder, what will happen next?

To be honest, I am at the bottom of the barrel when it comes to depression. I find myself, not at my apartment. Away from one of my good friends and his best friend who is also my friend.

I find myself with no friends. When I think, who are my friends? People come to mind. I think of Terry and Angela in Coeur D'Alene, I think of Matthew at my apartment, I think of Izzy, I think of Sarah and Caitlin and Chris (plus others)... but that's not that many, is it? I don't have people I can call up and go see right now, and I don't want to drink or smoke marijuana...

Actually, I do, but I feel some sort of aversive force directing me away from being with friends just to hang out and do drugs.

I have nothing going for me. I have no job, no education.... All I have is this brain issue.

And it's an interesting brain issue.

But where does it go from here?

Oh, The Horrible Suffering

I feel absolutely worthless. I feel like I can't make money, can't contribute to conversations because my brain isn't working right.

So I am sitting in the car, riding to a garden store with my mom, when I start to feel some sort of cut and release.

This must be surrendering. So I walk around the garden store, feeling this cut and release and good feeling among the bad feeling.

I hope it continues because it is helping the searing awful depression. I feel like I just want to check out.