Memories of Meditation, Hallucination, a Bored Angel, and an Assault.

There's a bunch of distressing DID/OSDD related things that's been happening in meditation/mindfulness practice recently. I made an attempt at describing it last night in a blog post.

It's nothing like what was going on in meditation four years ago when we had psych drugs added into our mental and physical landscape:

"My head went a little weird in the meditation. Is this okay? I think so.

When we closed our eyes (or gazed at a flame or whatever else helped) we were told to think of what was to the left, right, Etc.

To the left I saw a group of creatures. Somewhere crossed between eagles and lizard-like dinosaurs. They were battling and fighting but no threat to anyone outside their group because they were entirely absorbed with each other. And no matter how much they fought none of them ever seemed to be injured. Beaks and talons ripped but they couldn't hurt each other.

To the right was an angel. Just some angelic guy keeping watch with an almost expressionless face. Leaning on his sword and seeming to be a bit bored due to having very little to do except watch. No battles to win.

In front was a giant bear, standing high and erect on its back legs and beating its chest a bit like a gorilla. And roaring but that was more like a lion. I don't think he was angry. That was just his way and the truth of his being.

Behind me was what I initially took to be a vampire creature but learned was a giant human bat type creature. It spread out its wings and wrapped me in its protection.

The earth below was solid and vibrated with an intensity such as if it wanted to escape and reveal itself.

And above? Light. Light falling, playfully. Colours of the rainbow and beyond in rays, falling upon me and surrounding me in something like a large soap bubble and the way rainbows play upon them in the sunshine, but far more so and the rainbows rejoiced. I have no sufficient words.

And then, from thinking of what was around me as requested, I moved into my body. And became a little more at peace. I confess I desired to lie down and sleep, comforted by place and the various creatures around me and to bask in that light.

Now, I don't know if that's what was meant by "think of what's to the left of you" but that's what happened."

It was worse because I was with the kind of people who would have been astounded by all that and almost want to raise me up as some kind of advanced soul and potential guru for whatever religion I wanted to create when in reality I was just prone to hallucinations due to the drugs the doctors put me on.

Perhaps hanging around gullible New Age folk wasn't the best idea when being even nuttier than normal. On the other hand at least it inspired acceptance and gentle exploration of the strangeness rather than fear or the desire to add to the drug cocktail and suppress myself further and as I've later learned, even psychosis is meaningful. Admitting the strangeness to any psychiatrist I ever saw would have been a worse option.

That's the history of humankind though isn't it? The madman is seen as the dangerous devil or devil possessed who needs banishment to places like Bedlam or lazar houses to protect society or who needs healing even if the curative method kills him. Alternatively he is seen as the source of wisdom, the medicine man, the teacher, the shaman. The middle ground has been lamentably rare, especially in western societies.

In retrospect I sort of miss some of the hallucinations. Not the terrifying ones of course. But some of them were great fun. Angels in churches. Roman centurions walking through cafe walls. Victorian carts on the streets. Vivid rainbows and beams of all colours from the sky. The increasing strangeness in meditation. The way I was "baptised" by Poseidon in a large rock pool on the coast. All caused or at least vastly increased by drugs screwing with my brain but enjoyable.

I was the madwoman. And some wanted me drugs or hospitalised while others wanted to see me rising to teach just as others who talk with angels have been raised up. It's been a relief to find a path closer to reality. Whatever reality is.

I walked away from the New Age folk after a while. Partly because I decided that much of what was being said was demonstrably bunkum - faith is fine but not when opposed to reason or to what's clearly true. Some of the things sincerely believed are stranger than anything I ever hallucinated by sight or hearing. As a believer in some strange things I was mostly prepared for a while to fit in well with other believers in strange things. Some strange things are still psychologically beneficial.

Mostly though I left because of the amount of people I met who claimed to be advanced souls and who wanted me to give up being transgender or who wouldn't call me "she" because as advanced souls they knew it didn't matter and in any case in another life I might be a woman anyway. Don't you hate it when people attempt to justify bigotry by a claim to holiness or wisdom or the intervention of a deity or Spirit?

The worst of those people was the "healer" who said that and then copped a grope of my breasts in a healing session and claimed it didn't matter because I'm a man so they're not breasts. Were I in a better mental state at the time, on that day still with sufficient DNA on my top as physical evidence, there would have been police involvement for that one when as it is I won't say who the bastard was in case that ever comes back as legal action against me. No evidence for my case so it would be me in trouble for being sexually assaulted.

I wonder how many women are in similar situations of being victims who cannot speak out for fear of legal consequences against them. I'm guessing there are a great many and it seems highly likely considering how often an accusation against a person is followed by dozens of others and we've all seen the statistics and reasons why even rape is so often not reported and how tough it can been to convict a rapist. Probably every one of us knows people who are in those statistics though we may not know of their experiences.

That's the first time I've told that story. I certainly wasn't meaning to tell it. It almost told itself and I allowed it to be typed.