New Years Dreams…

Last night I had requested from my inner guide before sleeping that she show me a better way of understanding why I was so angry these past few days…Right before waking, I had three distinctly different dreams; yet I can’t recall for sure which happened first… Therefore, I will begin with the most logical sequence:

The First Dream

I was with my family again: parents, sister and children. My parents made all these promises to me such as a new car to keep, a home, and to be the mother again to both my children. (I saw both in this dream as young kids…) But then, as I was taking a walk, I suddenly found myself back at the old institution grounds; yet, I  was unaware that this is where I was until I went in to get something to eat.

I soon found myself in a cafeteria line full of females wearing the thin cheap blue uniforms we once had to wear. I realized my parents had lied; they had turned me back in to the institution and I saw them there attempting to eat as well and contact me. I was enraged and told them to stay away. I saw my old psychiatrist there from India as well.

That was my first dream.

To me, this dream is a clear reflection of my personality and my current life situation… You see, I have always held a very high regard for truth and honesty. I hardly ever told a lie to my parents (most generally out of fear and terror of the sever beating I’d receive if they ever caught me…) and yet regardless, this core value has stayed with me all my life.

Now, whether it be from the fact that I am a straight up Sagittarius, or what, I have been known to be blunt to the point of sticking my foot in my mouth and getting into trouble for it. So in this dream, I am promised all this lovely life from my parents; this is a genuine reflection of how they raised me. The were very protective and never wanted me to see the ugly negative aspects of life.

For example, my dad used to fill my head with all the potential men that would flock to me as a teenager when I suffered daily for over two years wearing braces and a head gear at night to have “beautiful teeth.” Now here I sit, only 44 years old, with not a single tooth in my head. (Oh the irony. lol…)

Yet the day I “woke-up” in the institution and realized I had killed my son, all those lovely little glimpses of “what do you want to be” as a young girl, came crashing down. The real truth laid right before my eyes just as the dream shows: my parents had lied. This here is the reality of the deep seeded anger I have held towards them since I got locked away…

Of course, I know there is no book on how to be the best parent in the world and I also know they simply wanted to protect me from all the possible evils out there. They honestly thought it the best to then raise me in a little fortress. I do forgive them and love them; yet, they are still very mean and verbally abusive to me for not having turned out to be like the princess they had envisioned.

The Second Dream

After eating we went out for smoke break to the yard that was no longer fenced in (it is in this reality). I had no cigarettes, so I walked away from all the others and went to a solitary large tree. A couple of guys followed me and I told them to leave me alone; they tried to warn me this part was off limits. I didn’t care and they left. Next thing I know, I am back on the ward being given medications and a shot…

I pass out. When I awake, I find myself in a cell with only three walls and some strange female sleeping next to me. Her foot was touching mine and it was rough. I told her to never touch me again. She responded: “But your foot is so soft!”

I stood up on my feet and told her to never touch me again. (I couldn’t see her face.) I then attempted to walk out of the room but as I got close to the exit, the walls narrowed and pressed on either side of my hips. I knew if I wanted out, I couldn’t walk straight out– I would have to turn sideways. I was immediately enraged at this again.

That was what I call the second dream.

This is another reflection of my life and current situation: my question of freedom. One aspect of my personality is that I absolutely can’t stand being told what to do. I like to be independent and make my own choices. Yet, as this dream shows, in order for me to walk out, I have to “turn” or in another word, CHANGE.

Now, as far as the past nearly twenty years of being locked away and now out on conditional release, there have been many positive changes about me that I will hands down give to the many therapeutic treatments from the institution (both psychological and medicinal). Yet here lately, I received a visit from the advocate general of the state department giving me a “pep” talk about how close I am to freedom again and how it seems “something always tend to happen…”

The man did not give me any specific details as to what those “somethings” have been over the past few years, but gave me hints as to how I can change my approach with the board and ask for my freedom. One of these was to shorten my letters and speeches. I happen to be very analytical and detail-oriented and here this man is saying that is a problem; yet, I know for a fact that the last woman who committed the same exact crime, did 5 or 6 years LESS time as an NGRI, and wrote a five page letter and got her freedom.

In other words, I think this man is blowing smoke up my ass to simply help himself look good as well as the department for the truth is I have a right to be free from excess treatment. I am beginning to see that this is indeed perhaps the truth in my case…

The Third Dream

I found myself on a large stage facing a huge choir. They were dressed in dark red robes and as I look to my right, I suddenly saw the director begin and the choir started to sing some old Christian gospel song. I felt nervous for I felt I had to sing and that I was a part of the choir; however, I didn’t know the words or had any music in front of me.

Then I look back up again and realize suddenly that I am facing the choir and I notice the orchestra is sitting right in front of them. I look back to the right and see a large crowd watching… I become apprehensive for I am thinking that somehow I got mixed directions and got to standing on the wrong side of the choir instead of being a part of the choir.

I then begin to feel a bit embarrassed yet I also start to analyze the situation at hand. I ask myself: “Can they see me? Am I invisible for some reason?”

I search for clues and soon see that no one seems to notice my presence on the stage. I then begin to relax. I look back up towards the choir and orchestra playing straight in front of me… I pause and allow myself the opportunity to embrace the music and enjoy this unique perspective I have been given…

I then wake up from my sleep.

To me, this is a very powerful dream in which I can see several interpretations the more I analyze it. Yet, I will share the very first interpretation that came to me after I awoke and the dreams slowly started to come back to me this morning…

I had watched a show last night by UFO-TV called “The Reality of Truth” and in that show came this unique perspective that basically it’s all good; if a person want to be mean and bad okay, because they are going to get theirs in the end… simply stay out of my sphere. To me this dream is a reflection of that concept within my life.

The choir, being dressed in blood red clothing, could represent all the hypocritical Christians like my dad. The initial fear that I couldn’t sing the songs is what I once felt when I was a part of that family; I never liked singing the songs back then. Never was in the choir either. Then my placement on stage is a large symbol of how I always have stood out from this group of people and the embarrassment is exactly how I used to feel.

Yet now, after a thorough analysis (many years later), I realize I am invisible to this crowd and that even though I am not a part of them, I can relax and enjoy their “music.” It’s like one of the sayings I’ve often heard, let’s see if I get it right: “Not my monkeys; not my circus.” (or something to that effect).

This dream could possibly also have a positive interpretation in light of my current status as an NGRI; yet that perspective will be saved for myself due to my own privacy concerns…

May the love and light surround you all this blessed New Years!!!

-Madcow52699

 

 

 

 

The Shadow

The Shadow

“Hello again!”
my shadow says
as he walks along
with my every step…

Let’s play pretend.

I’ll cut you loose
and let you run
down to the river bend–
you can wash your mind
in the crystal waters
clearing your head
of all things that bother
and see with clarity
why it is that you need me.

You’ll remember painful memories
and all the battles that were fought
embracing the negativity
as you hung your Self on the cross.

I suffer when you seem confused,
when you feel I have no use.
Can’t you see I’m a part of you?
Let me show you something new…

I hold you when you are down
and you feel nothing can be found.
I bring to you a balance beam
and together we make the perfect team.
For when you pull in one direction
I am here as your protection;
I bring to you no critical labeling,
just an opposite voice who is loving.
For there is no decision that’s “wrong” or “right”
when you are true to your inner light.

Without the dark side of the moon
the moon simply could not be…

——-
Madcow#52699
June 4, 2002

This poem was written almost precisely four years after my son’s tragic death and my spiral down into the rabbit’s hole… I was living in the institution at the time and was outside enjoying some of my ground freedom. The place was built in 1913 and consisted of about a dozen old buildings, some two or three stories high, that housed the mentally insane for the state.

Several of the buildings were unoccupied due to the fact that in the late 1990’s, the state had recently began the process of placing mental ill people out of institutions and integrating them into the community using residential care facilities. (Yes people, I am an old dinosaur… hear me roar… lol). The majority of the people held at that institution prior to that time were not there due to crimes, just major illnesses. After the state shut that portion down, the place held nothing but those that were either a) heading into court for a crime and needed to be mentally evaluated or b) been through the court system and were found NGRI (not guilty by reason of insanity.)

I spent as many possible hours as I could out on the grounds. I was never much of an indoor individual… Back then, I didn’t get much access to a computer; nor did we have one available to us on the ward. So I went about much like the writers of old – I had either a pen or pencil and notebook with me at all times for whenever inspiration wanted to spring forth into a written format. I knew that in spite of all the negative circumstances that led to my situation, it presented a unique opportunity for me to be able to pursue my life long goal of seeking the true meaning of life.

© Madcow52699

 

 

 

 

A Word of Comfort

A Word of Comfort

Twisted sister in the sky
Will be falling quite nearby
Trees and power lines shall fall
Just to show who rules us all
***
Thunder beings cry out loud
Rain begins to fall from clouds
Waiting as the lightening strikes
I have no fear — for this I like
***
Wind whipping branches ‘round
Calling out in moaning sound
Telling me destruction waits
For now’s the time to re-create
***
Watch out all you young
For now the sky hides the sun
And you must adjust your eyes
To the shadows in the skies
***
They weave and dance real fast
To an old tune from the past
We ancient ones can recall
That day when the sky did fall
***
Bringing terror to little hearts
Ripping families and homes apart
You see this all with your heart
Worry not — we’ll never part
***
I wish you well on this journey
So few have tried yet we’re many
Helping as we see fit
Remembering that we don’t forget
***
You shall go into another world
Where most don’t care to go
But you are strong for a girl
Be prepared — take it slow

Truthful Ones
12-5-2001

---

After two years of being in the state’s mental institution for the criminally insane, I “channeled” this on the porch of the administration one cloudy day as a storm approached. To me, when my creative writings come so fast and spontaneously that I don’t even have time to really think about the next incoming word, that is when I feel the Spirit is speaking directly to my heart. I used to always carry a notebook around with me for whenever this type of automatic handwriting would occur.

It didn’t happen very often at all; however, as one can see from the previous two poems I have put in this collection, this one is very different and flows quite effortlessly. All my spiritually based poetry like this would give me a rare beautiful glimpse of insight into the world or myself and leave me with an utter feeling of being blessed. I would know that I was never alone. Peace be to you all.

Madcow#52699

Perceptions…

I sometimes wonder what they think
As they gaze within chain links.

What is it that they see…

Animals too dangerous for society?
Creatures cursed with an abnormality?
Demonic humans hiding under “insanity” ?

I sometimes wonder what they know
As they gaze into locked windows.

What is it that they see…

Animals to be fed and given sympathy?
Creatures held captive by an evil entity?
People sick with a mental infirmity?

I sometimes wonder what they feel
As they gaze into the eyes of us taking pills.

What is it that they see…

Animals deemed ill and in need of pity?
Creatures condemned, not even worthy?
Uncaring humans who’ve lost their morality?

I sometimes wonder if they’ll ever understand
What it’s like to be trapped in no-man’s-land.

Can they fathom the depth of this isolation?
Do they realize I’m just a person who has to take medication?
Are they familiar with the pain of an ignorant perception?

Tell me, what is it that you see…

Madcow#52699
2003

Mad Cow Disease

I’m so tired of the cowboys herding me around like some cow.
They brand me with a number and shuffle me along with the others to chow.
Then, counting aloud, one by one, they shoot us back into the corral,
And hand us our meds to swallow, (as if we don’t know how!)

They yell at us each morning when it’s time to wake up.
Then we stand in another line, watching them make our coffee cup,
And for those of us who aren’t morning people, we’d like to scream, “Shut up!”
But, alas, if we did, the cowboys could have us wrote up.

They expect us after breakfast to set a daily goal;
This is termed “treatment” for both the young and old.
Yet, when you’re laid out to pasture, there’s not much to be told.
You grab the same cafeteria tray and eat from the same plastic bowl.

Just as cows get bathed at the same time in the rain,
We’re forced to shower in two’s and three’s, with no privacy to attain;
And everyday we get to listen to the cowboys gripe and complain
About how they can’t wait for their next weekend again!

And when the Head Rancher decides to bring in a new one,
The cowboys grin knowingly to each other, saying “Let’s start the fun!”
For, you know, there ain’t nothin’ quite like the thrill of catching a cow on the run
And then sitting around the campfire talking about how stubborn was that young ‘un.

Heaven forbid that you should ever catch the mad cow disease.
You could get stuck in the corral and never leave.
You’d be analyzed…sometimes even laughed at…for what you believe,
And given drugs everyday, in hopes, of achieving “normalcy.”

—–

Madcow#52699

2011