My Mental Mordor & The One Ring

I was sitting in a locked facility, waiting for the staff to come and take away my things. I had been through this process a month ago, and I was prepared for what was about to come.

My purse had very little in it at this point. After throwing several of my items in a public trash can a few days prior, the only significant things inside were a pendulum, a chart and a ring. The contents may have seemed bizarre, but I had carefully stowed the things I thought were necessary for my epic journey.

The ring had been carefully placed in a zipped pocket after something had happened to it. At least, I remembered that something had happened to it. While I sat and waited to have my belongings taken from me, I decided I needed to check. I opened the pocket and took out the ring. Sure enough, something had happened. I heard a voice inside my head say, “Thank you for checking. It means so much to me that you would check.”

Soon after, an actual, real life, person came in to talk to me.

“What is your name?”
“Do you know why you’re here?”
“Yes… I was actually in a facility like this a month ago but being there clearly didn’t help. I didn’t tell them everything though. Maybe if I tell you, hopefully you can help me.”

I told the person I had taken psychic courses, that I was hearing voices and that I had a spirit boyfriend who was trying to get me back to him. I told her that his name was Wesley and he sent me messages through my mind, movies, music and birds. As I told her this, two Magpie birds flew by the window. I broke into tears. I told her I thought I was supposed to die to get back to him.

With kindness, this woman told me I needed to give her my things. I willingly surrendered my purse. With that, I let the broken ring leave my presence without saying a word.

Let’s backtrack…

For my 40th birthday, my parents decided to give me the gift of an emerald ring. They wanted to give me something special, and emerald is my birthstone. I’m not typically a jewelry person, but I was excited to look for this ring. I started hunting the internet and when I saw this ring, my heart leapt into my throat. I absolutely loved it. It was an antique, and had characteristics not commonly found in jewelry today. In case you haven’t noticed, vintage is sort of my vibe, and this being an antique made me love it even more.

When it came to this ring, I became a little Hobbit. In several ways, I felt the ring had “come to me”. It seemed to call to me from the internet, and once I had it in my possession, it became my precious. I never wanted to let it go. I wore it all the time.

Once I started my psychic courses, I started to wonder if this particular ring came into my life for a reason. (Can you say making something out of nothing?) I asked my “psychic” classmates if they were getting anything from it spiritually. A couple of people said things, but I never really bought what they were telling me. To me it felt like the story of this ring was so much bigger.

Soon, the ring would indeed have a bigger story. I would write it…and the narrative would start at my first mental facility.

“You need to give me all your jewelry other than your wedding ring”, said the woman at the counter. I looked at my hands, pointed to my wedding ring and said, “This is my ring for my Husband here” and then pointing to my antique emerald, I said, “and this is for my Husband in spirit.”

In the depths of my Mental Mordor, I forged my precious. In other words, I solidified the meaning of the ring. In that moment, my spirit “boyfriend” became my spirit “husband”.

The woman at the counter allowed me to keep both rings, and I felt a rush of excitement from a force I perceived as Wesley at the time.

The ring was with me through my entire first stay at a mental facility and the month to follow. My mental relationship with Wesley got deeper while I was wearing the ring. I tied a million feelings to it…all through the power of my mind.

The story of the ring continued after I left the first mental facility. As I mentioned in a previous blog, not much changed for me after I left. When I got out, I continued my psychic practices, I stopped taking medication and I still believed everything happening to me was for some spiritual purpose beyond what common folk couldn’t understand. I continued to have my imaginary relationship with Wesley, and soon, came another breaking point.

In a state of complete euphoria, the voices told me it was time for me to join my ‘spirit husband’. I was told it was time to leave my world behind. They told me they would let me know where I needed to go, and what I needed to do.

One night, I left my home and drove through the night. I didn’t sleep. Once again, I listened and obeyed the voices.

“Turn right…”
“Turn left…”
“Let your ego drive you…”
“You’re getting closer to Wesley with every turn…”

“You’re going to be leaving this earth behind…”
“Turn off your phone…”
“Throw your phone out the window…”

I threw my phone out the window as I drove. I remember the sensation I felt when the phone left my fingertips. It was like I was letting go of the world. It was exhilarating.

I continued to drive until the voices eventually told me to stop and abandon my car. I did. I kept doing things to prove I was listening to the voices. Just as in my first Psychosis, I was walking the earth, looking for people to save, but this time, the voices kept me in public places.

They continued to tell me when and where to turn. They continued to test me.

I did things I was embarrassed to do. Every last one of them…

At some point, the voices told me to keep one credit card, and throw the rest of my wallet away. A few moments later, I was told to throw away my keys. The voices explained that none of these things would be necessary, because I would be leaving this world.

I was on top of the world. Every decision I made seemed to elevate me more and more. With every turn, I was more convinced I would be united with Wesley. My mind found every justification why I should continue on my journey. I truly believed that if I proved I was listening by doing everything the voices said, eventually, my life in this world would evaporate and I would finally be free from anything holding me back.

As I walked and searched, I talked to the voices, I made endless jokes, and I laughed uncontrollably. I kept looking for Wesley, and I talked about all the things we could do together. This led me to a movie theater. I went inside and bought 2 tickets. One for me, and one for him. I was certain as I sat in the theater, he would magically appear in real life. I even bought us popcorn.

When I got into the theater, I couldn’t find my seat. My guess is I was at the wrong showing because I had no sense of time. Regardless, the voices told me it was okay to leave the theater because Wesley wasn’t going to be there. They told me there was no way for us to unite until I had died.

This next part is hard to talk about, but I think it’s important.

I have been suicidal several times during my life. Each time I was suicidal, I was in the depths of depression and in some way, I recognized that I was suicidal. Although it is clear to me now that I was suicidal during my psychosis, I did not recognize it at the time. I was happy. I wanted to leave the world because I thought I had a higher calling, and a spirit husband who wanted me back. As I look back on this night, I think it is realistic to say that I could have killed myself. If the voices had told me to do something in different way, I think I would have complied.

Fortunately, the voices I heard that night,  said that they could take care of my death by simply lifting my spirit from my body. They had me lay on a bench and act as if I were dead.

People passing by, made fun of the fat girl drooped over the bench. There was a lot of laughing at my expense. These people had absolutely no clue what I was going through. I don’t blame them for this, but there is a part of me that wishes I could tell each one of them that they needed to check their judgement. I look back on this experience as the person who lived it, but also as a sad onlooker. I needed help. This was a moment someone could have helped me, but nobody realized it. Especially, myself.

I have a different perspective on suicide than I ever had before. If you take nothing else from this blog, take this:

A person can be simultaneously happy and suicidal. 

Never assume you know what is going through the mind of someone who has died by suicide. There is no way to know for certain.

Clearly, I didn’t actually die…but the voices told me I did. Then they told me, it was time to find my people and that Wesley was officially coming for me.

I thought I was dead and living in some sort of astral plane. I began to walk AGAIN and all the while, I heard, “You’ll know your people…find your people…”

As night approached, I went into this bar. Going into a bar is unlike me. I don’t drink, and I had never been to this place before. When I went in, only a few people seemed to notice I was there. One girl said, “He’ll be here soon.” She may have been talking to someone else, or responding to something I don’t remember saying, but in my mind at the time, I thought she was my spirit sister and she was talking about Wesley. More conversations like that led me deeper into my psychosis throughout the night.

There was a dance floor in the bar. I love to dance, and dancing makes me feel sexy. As I danced, my hyper-sexuality swung into high gear and by closing time, the slightest touch was sending me over the moon. As I stumbled out of the bar (only high on whatever my mind was doing to my body), a guy told me he would take me home. I started to go with him when I heard, “No Anginet. He is not me. Do not go with him.” I was shocked by the forcefulness of the voice. I listened to it. I’m grateful I did because I have no idea what trouble I would have got myself into based on how I was feeling.

From 2am (closing time of the bar) to at least 9:00am, I walked…

I had been awake for at least 48 hours when the voices led me smack dab into a Mormon church.

Walking into an LDS church, voluntarily, on a Sunday, while in psychosis, is important. The voices said they brought me there to check if I had any unresolved resentment, but my balanced mind can’t help but wonder, did I go there because I needed help and it’s where a piece of me feels comforted? There is a lot in my psychosis that I accept as meaningless, but this this meant something. During my journey through my Mental Mordor, I found an LDS church without looking. I don’t live in Utah, there isn’t a church on every corner. In fact, there were only 2 in the whole city. Yet, as I walked the streets, my mind led me right to it.

Members of the church tried to talk to me, but I was having a very hard time communicating with anyone in reality. I still thought I was dead and caught between two worlds.

After going into the chapel and singing the final hymn of the sacrament meeting, I sat for a moment. Another member of the church came up and asked me something, but I couldn’t process what he was asking. We had some sort of conversation, because he smiled and told me it was nice talking with me.

As I sat on a church bench, I noticed I had no resentment. I just felt glad that chapter of my story was complete. I sat there comfortably, and I said goodbye to it. I walked away.

I was cold. I had been walking around for nearly 3 days in winter weather. I went into a fast food restaurant for warmth and sat at a booth. I still hadn’t slept. At this point, I began to hallucinate.

I saw Wesley out the window in a car. He was crying. I asked what was wrong, and he said, “We’ll never really be able to be together”. I tried to convince him that we would be. I talked to him about all the things we could do in our world.

After much discussion, a different voice said, “You have to decide whose side you’re on.”

Although I do not classify myself as religious, I immediately said, “I’m always on Gods side”.

The response that followed was, “Then we need to cast out the demons”.

As I visualized my future world with Wesley, a war began inside my head. I closed my eyes and heard knocking on the windows behind me. “Don’t open your eyes or the process will stop.” I heard more and more knocking.

My head felt heavy. I pictured demons getting cast out of my mind. I heard, “this is the last one” and with excitement I pictured winning the battle. Just as I felt the last demon was “cast out”, something popped on my finger. I opened my eyes, and the band of my emerald ring had split down the center.

The ring was broken. What did this mean? Why did it break in that exact moment? Did this mean Wesley was a demon? Did it mean my relationship with him was over? I was devastated. I couldn’t accept it and my mind began to unravel even more. I left the restaurant in tears.

Why? Why would Wesley break our ring? I kept trying to convince myself that it didn’t mean what I thought it could…

I found a bench and sat down. Across the street, there was another bench where I saw Wesley. I asked him why the ring broke. I did not get a response, but conversations continued.

I started getting messages about the universe.  My mind began to unravel mysteries of the world until something inside me said, “If you go further than this, you will not come back. Your mind will be gone forever.” I changed my line of thinking, but I continued to talk to the spirits across the street…

Eventually, a woman came with a police officer.  She told him, “I work around this area, and I’ve seen her out here talking to herself for about 6 hours.” She talked to me, but she seemed scared of me.

The officer started to ask me questions, and I must have experienced blackout because the next thing I heard from the officer was, “So, you are sitting here waiting for your friend, Sunshine, to pick you up?”

“Yes. I am waiting for Sunshine…”

I don’t know anyone named Sunshine, but I didn’t want to go back on what I had said in blackout. I thought the spirits told the officer something through me, and it was better to accept it.

The officer called the paramedics to take me to the ER for a hold. My time in that hold became my personal hell. I will not be going into what occurred during that time, because it is incredibly traumatic to me and my family (after my identity was established).

Sufficient to say, I began to come down from my manic state, and the fall was excruciating.

After a 72 hour hold, I was taken to the facility where I released my purse with the broken ring to the hospital administrators.

The woman came back into the room and told me she would show me where I’d be staying.

I followed her out the door, and as I did, a woman in a yellow vest smiled and waved at me. Her vest said, “Sunshine Cleaning Company”.

Sunshine came. I felt safe again.

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