Perhaps I seem rather sad on here, as much as I have tried to spin gold from dark experiences. There are a few things as of late that seem to be helping:
One, of course, must be the Cymbalta, even though my dosage is considered rather sub-therapeutic, though it's all my GP feels I need, based on the results. The other is a recent feeling of release I have felt, probably due to a block in the aura coming undone, which I was able to undo using ceremonial tobacco and prayers to Coyote. Since that day, I have felt consistently more relaxed in my mind, and evening anxiety is gone, which used to be terrible.
My aura feels soft and light, and when I bed down at night I feel surrounded by God's soft loving embrace. Though I feel strained being alone, not knowing romance with a loving partner to hold me when things get difficult, not being able to rely on someone's bond with me to help me though life, God has this magical ability to take misery and draw beauty out of it, as though the sorrow is gentle and wise, like a stunning, morose piece of classical music that hits you just right. I can't say sadness ever felt like this before, and that's probably why my dosage of Cymbalta can remain so low.
There are details I won't reveal on this blog about what I feel in relation to what I have been through, for fear of internet ridicule. I don't expect people to understand possession, unless they are an authority on it, or have experienced it themselves. Here and there, I have met others who have been affected by dark forces, but no one who has been oppressed as deeply by them as I, where I was possessed for over a decade, walking around in constant agony, fighting to save myself while pretending none of it was happening so that humanity would throw me a bone. It's been exhausting, and I'm probably just mostly shellshocked at this point.
Today I wear orange in solidarity with Canada's indigenous peoples, and to acknowledge the horror of the genocide of children in residential schools. I have been informed that the Catholics are now taking measures to address this a little more, which made me feel a bit better. So much horror buried - I appreciate being in Canada for many reasons, but I find this shameful disgusting destruction of innocence really makes me question a lot of what my country is actually about. As my mother said, it's almost like the Earth Mother is revealing her lost children, these mass graves being uncovered in these changing times.
I was impressed to see more Torontonians in orange than in red on Canada Day - perhaps that too is another sign of change.