I got settled into my new room at the mental facility where I had just arrived. This was my second mental facility within a month. This time, my euphoria had been completely stripped away. I no longer believed a spirit was coming to save me. I no longer believed I was there to save other people.
As I sat on the bed, I looked at the texture on the walls and I thought, “This is my reality. I am in a mental institution again, and this is my reality.” A shot of anger flew through my system. For months I had been taught I could create a better reality for myself and for those around me. During that process, I gave up my mind to others ideas, thoughts and more. I was furious with the people who had led me into this mental mind trap. I was even more furious with myself for allowing it to happen.
My anger quickly fled, and I was filled with heartache. Just days before, I felt one with the universe and believed I was in the presence of God. Now, I sat on a plastic mattress, starring at a wall, feeling completely abandoned by my creator. A creator I had decided to trust in again. My heart was shattered over the loss, and that became amplified as I tried to piece together what was true about my so called, “spirit boyfriend”. Was it all in my mind? Was there any validity to anything I experienced? Over the course of the next few days, I cycled from believing everything I had experienced in regard to the afterlife, to believing nothing. I couldn’t reconcile the reality I had been living, with what was possible in “consensus reality”.
Those in consensus reality did not hear the voices I heard.
Those in consensus reality did not see the people I saw.
Those in consensus reality did not believe I was here to save the world.
Those in consensus reality did not believe I was deity.
Those in consensus reality did not believe God would tell me to die.
Yet, in the hospital…
Some of those who were not in consensus reality, did recognize me as deity.
Some of those who were not in consensus reality, talked randomly about things I discussed days earlier.
Some of those who were not in consensus reality, left messages for me in the same form as Wesley (the spirit boyfriend).
Some of those in consensus reality, told me to trust God.
It was a twisted and confusing time. I kept trying to pull apart what was real, what wasn’t, and what may have been in between.
The one thing I knew for certain was that consensus reality had caught up to me and I needed to accept it. If I didn’t, I would continue to land in mental institutions, and that is not something I wanted for my life.
Sitting on my bed, I made this decision, “Mental hospitals will not be my reality.”
I prayed, “God, if you’re real, please know that I’m always on your side…I think I proved that…but with everything that has happened, I need to let go of you again.” I felt at peace with my decision.
I then had a similar conversation with the voices in my head, “I can’t keep connecting to you like this. It’s too extreme, please understand.” I heard very clearly, “We will always be with you, and it’s okay for you to let go.”
With that, the decision had been made. No more connecting to things that were not present in consensus reality. When I would get released, I would throw away the pendulum. I would avoid things in the supernatural realm, I would not engage in certain types of religious conversations, and I would actively question my thoughts, feelings and promptings. The voices would still be there, but I wouldn’t interact with them the same. When one came up, I would try to identify it as my own brain rather than other people. This helped me navigate my thoughts in a way that was controlled.
By making these decisions, accepting my Bipolar 1 diagnosis, and taking my medication, I was on the road to recovery. Yet, I felt worse than ever before. The depression was excruciating, and I tried to find ways of making myself feel better that were considered healthy by a lot of people around me.
First, I tried to meditate. As soon as I would, I would start to visualize and disassociate. I decided mediation was not safe for me.
I hoped I could find peace in prayer, but as I would try to pray, intrusive thoughts would take over until I came back to my prayer from the hospital. “God, if you’re real, please know that I’m always on your side…I think I proved that…but with everything that has happened, I need to let go of you again.” With that, the intrusive thoughts would stop.
I cannot explain the pain I feel in regard to spirituality. I’ve been trying to redefine spirituality for myself over the last few years, but still I feel a tremendous loss. When others share how God, Jesus and prayer provide them comfort, I am happy for them. Yet, at the same time, it causes me pain and anguish. I long for what I wanted to believe as a child and while I was in psychosis. But I know, even if everything were true, I cannot connect to it and stay safe in consensus reality. I am heartbroken for myself in this regard. Something that helps so many others, should help me. Yet, I cannot engage safely.
In order to get well, I had to let go of things that had previously brought me comfort. That was difficult. By letting go of these things, healing began to happen…but it was slow and rather painful.
Still, I continued…and as I did, I found more and more help. I got more encouragement, and I made decisions for my life that would change things for the better.