A carefully-constructed front to hide a broken self

When I was dissociated, from age 7 to 58, I was … how can I describe it? … hardly a person. Or maybe barely a person is more accurate.

I barely held it together. I barely passed. I’d metaphorically catch my breath, panting, after a social engagement because I was so self-conscious and working so hard to create and manage an impression. The sensation was as if I had no solid ground under my feet.

All of it – marriage, parenting, jobs – I was doing because I thought that this is what men do. In none of it was I doing what I loved.

I worked so hard to create a place for myself back then only to have one intellectual effort after another crash. Clearly I was not meant to be an academic.

Finally I cared less and less about what was happening out there and began the research which led to here.

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Maybe then you can understand why I might crow at the sensation recently of feeling totally stable in my stance. No jitters, no scrunching the feet for balance, no wanting to be elsewhere. I can feel the ground under my feet, something I could never do when dissociated.

For me, this is the end of a long journey. And the beginning of a new one.

Along the way, a psychological/vocational counsellor helped me to see that whatever department or field I entered, I’d very soon be operating outside its paradigm. Aha. Thank you, Brian. I’d better choose a field that’s immense and endless. And I did.

Now I get paid for operating outside the paradigm!  Speak of lemons into lemonade! Life working out!

And to boot, as a distinct benefit, I’m given spiritual experiences – granted they’re often toned down – and priceless information on sacred subjects … where would I rather be?

Throw in two appearances of Michael, one on Earth and one aboard ship.

And finally miracles. One after another: Housefires prevented, electrocution averted, toxic chemicals rendered benign, heavy objects rendered weightless, hopeless situations redeemed. I don’t need any more miracles.

I need no more convincing.  My guides and Michael have my undivided attention. It took until now to have me let go of fear and disbelief.

And, just when the curtain may finally be rising, I did it.