Psychic or Cuckoo? That is the question.
We’ve all been there. Laying in bed at night, nodding off, feeling the soft weight of the duvet and soothing warmth washes over us.
Now, I am making a rather grand presumption that those who do not struggle with mental illness also have audio hallucinations, because Wikipedia told me so. It is most common for those not suffering from psychosis to have at least one audio hallucination in their life time, usually just before slipping into REM sleep or just as they awake.
So I have been pondering. What is a hallucination and what is a spiritual event.
By spiritual event, I mean, either being contacted or witnessing a ghost, spirit, Wight, Fey species or God.
By Hallucination I mean, witnessing, feeling or seeing something constructed by your own mind as a result of a mental illness, or neurological illness.
I see dead people. The problem is, I also hallucinate dead people…well, one dead person, My mother. How do I differentiated between her and the other spirits I see? I used to hallucinate my mother when she was alive.
Intuition comes into play, and I, like many others who live with mental illness know our minds and body extremely well. We study ourselves on a daily basis. When I hallucinate my mother, there is always a little voice that says, ‘not real’, sometimes it is very quiet, sometimes loud, sometimes I must dig deep to hear it. But it’s there. It’s a gut reaction, deep instinct that I know, she is not real. I am not haunted by my mother, she is not real.
But this does pose the question, is mental illness a sign of perhaps being too spiritually Intune with things? Does our human mind struggle with being strong empaths, psychic abilities and such? Or do these abilities stem from mental illness. There were several studies on the effects of LSD on the human mind, studies that linked into the fact most humans can only see, hear and process a finite amount of information, and when under the influence of LSD their minds opened, many claimed to see aura’s, energy radiating off people, off machines.
How often has our pet cat or dog been fixated on a part of the room, growling or hissing and we see nothing.
Intuition is my gift, it allows me to recognise hallucination from spiritual event. A spiritual event for me varies in what emotions I feel, but there is always that gut instinct that tells me it’s real, as opposed to the little voice that tells me my mother is a construct of my own mind.
So how do we tell the difference. We can’t, but we do, we know, it’s that same feeling that tells you to take a different route to work, or that you shouldn’t trust someone. Intuition, a gift that saves, and helps and allows us to heal. Intuition is a great tool for mental illness, and is one of my trusted friends.
I was a fool, I got burned out. Over the past few days I have been lovingly crafting items for my etsy shop as well as performing 2 custom Tea-leaf readings for clients. It was a busy weekend and I did not take care of myself as well as I should of.
Many of us who spellcraft feel the effects, we feel our energy ebb away, other times we feel rejuvinated. When a witch happens to live with a mental illness, I believe our energy levels are affected more so than those who are not struggling with mental health. So we need to be careful, and yes, I am the pot calling kettle black here, as I was not careful and tried to do everything without taking the time to recharge.
I need to remember my own mantra’s.
I hear a lot of people ask whether, when it comes to tea-leaf reading, whether you can simply cut a tea bag and use the leaves within that. First things first, a disclaimer: You can do whatever you want to do! For me personally though, I always use loose leaves. Why? I fully admit, I am something of a Tea romantic. The whole process wars my heart, placing the leaves into my pot, letting them stew, pouring the brew into a quaint bone china cup and then enjoying the rustic nature of it all.
Now, drinking a cup of tea, which has not been strained does pose some disadvantages, mainly, drinking tea that has not been strained can make you feel like you’re chewing straw. Thankfully, many moons ago I learned the tip of simply blowing on your cup, then sipping. Thus, the leaves do not come into contact with your mouth.
So yes, if you are new to tea leaf reading, the leaves are important. I have found when you use leaves from a tea-bag, they are just not thick/large enough to give a good reading. That is just for me though, I know many who do marvellous readings from using leaves from a tea-bag.
Using loose leaves, not only warms my heart but also allows me to do some extra fun shopping for cute little tea caddy’s, like the wonderful ‘New English Teas-Alice’s adventures in Wonderland Tea Selection. ’
I admit, I may have a tea shopping addiction. When I say ‘may’ I actually mean, yes, I do have a Tea shopping addiction.
Sometimes, everything is okay. I think to myself, ‘Finally, getting better, rock on!’ then that voice starts again. The intrusive thoughts get louder and louder until I can’t think, breathe or even exist in any state that could pass as functioning. Today is one of those days.
I need to go outside. I need to go to the shop but my mind is against me.
You’re ugly, you are stupid, god you’re so pathetic, just go outside you fucking freak, just open the door and go outside. People will look at you, they know, they know, they know how pathetic you are. Oh look, well done, no you’re fucking hallucinating again. Hello Mum, great, now she won’t shut the fuck up. Now I am stood in my bathroom screaming at her to shut up;
‘Go away! You’re not real!’ But she was real, once and she died before I could scream at her for everything she did, before I could tell her, ‘You were supposed to be my mother!’
I think about suicide every hour. I don’t want to die. I know I don’t want to die.
I think about self harm every minute. I don’t want to. I can beat this. But it’s the only thing that will shut her up. Shut me up. Shut everything up.
So if you have got this far, I am going to let peek inside the mind of someone with complex PTSD and do a day in the life. Everything in italics are my thoughts.
2 am: Woke up to the sound of my name. Mother is back. Great. Fall back to sleep hoping she will fuck off.
7:20 AM overslept. Shit. Wake Erin up. Don’t recall getting downstairs, but make her lunch box. Takes me twenty minutes as I forgot how to make sandwiches and I dropped the bread. You’re a shit mother, you’re turning into her, for fucks sake, you can’t even make sandwiches. You forgot didn’t you, you’re so shit, she wanted pizza in her lunch box. Now look, you’ve wasted bread.
8:20 Shower and get dressed: Alone now. Feel better. No, dammit, not better. Just want everything to be quiet. Self harm self harm, if you do it it’ll be quiet. Everything will stop. I am so tired. Did I take my meds? I can’t remember. My chest hurts. I can’t breathe. Fuck, am I dying, shit I’m dying, oh fuck….. I proceeded to have an anxiety attack because I could not get the toothpaste out of the tube
9:30 I have spent 45 minutes walking around the house listening to music and maladaptive dreaming. Decide to write a blog. Start typing, take y beta blockers. It’s easier to breathe now. Everyone is talking about you, you’re such a failure, why did you quit your job, you cam’t even do that, you do know this is pathetic, no one cares. Oh you’re angry, she got angry. Do you remember. Remember what she said, what he did. No, wont think, wont thing, fuck. Proceeded to slip into a flash back and had another anxiety attack. Took another beta blocker. It’s only 9.45 and I am exhausted physically and mentally.
I was going to do a full day, but I hope if you’re reading this, if you do not understand anxiety and mental illness that you will see how crippling and exhausting it is. My mind is never quiet, I can never just be and in some way, I hope if you’re reading this you know you are not alone, and we shall keep fighting the good fight together.