god mother part II
If you haven’t read this first, read it before you read this post: Dear nina it’s me god…
So where did we leave off? Oh yes…I thought God was talking to me. So I go to the day hospital because of panic attacks, which is a program where you go spend like only the daytime in a setting where they do all kinds of group therapy and art therapy etc. I particularly like the art therapy and the discussions. I made a real nice abstract painting; I’m only good at abstracts. I’m also good at discussions. I know how to talk.
But it is so incredibly sad. There is a woman who can’t keep it together since her cat died. And when you look at her you know it’s not just her cat that’s the problem. Then there was a dude who was a little overweight with bad acne. He talked about how he would just be at the dinner table and he would want to kill himself. He started to tear up when telling us this.
I didn’t feel at all like killing myself. It was a foreign concept to me. I was in this day hospital program because I was having severe panic attacks. This is the thing: I was having a nervous reaction to life. Two people in fact had tried to sexually attack me and it was making me crazy.
(This is the thing that me and my friends who have a mental illness talk about: It is not sane to be OK with the world. Insanity is an appropriate reaction to the horror of life. It’s possible that if you are not reacting to the things that are happening in this world, perhaps you are not paying attention).
I of course did not tell a soul at the day hospital that I thought god was talking to me. Even I, in all my craziness, knew you don’t go around telling people stuff like that unless you want to truly be locked up. Or so I thought.
However there was a woman who interviewed me at the hospital before I left. I don’t know; there was something about her that made me trust her. She told us she was a therapist with a private practice. I immediately wanted to see her. I told my mother, for some unexplained reason, that I would see no one but her for therapy.
I went to the first session, and I stared to shake and feel something like chills go up and down my spine. Something happened in that room, that I can’t explain. I don’t remember the details of exactly what I said, or how I said it. But it went something like this:
“Something is happening to me, to my entire being,” I said in a shaky voice.
“What do you mean? What’s happening?” she asked. Her beautiful face looked at me quizzically.
“God is talking to me,” I said to her. Then I told her something about the soul of her dog.“ I mean I’m channeling god,” I told her after I felt like the feeling of being submerged in the source had passed.
“OK, how do you feel after this happens?” she asked.
“That makes sense,” she said. Sense? What is she talking about? None of this makes sense
“You believe me?” I asked shyly.
“Yes,” she said confidently. I thought for a moment she was crazy. Isn’t she supposed to diagnose people who think god is talking to them?…To be Continued.
That was the first time I told anyone that I was channeling the source. Let me tell you once again. I do not think that I am god in the Judeo-Christian definition of the word. I am not the guy with the beard who goes around judging people. I am simply one with god, and so are you. The only difference is I know it.
Let me put it to you this way. I have a Hindu friend who goes to the Sai Baba temple and as a regular occurrence she has heard young kids say things like, “I mean I know I’m god, but I can’t tell Steve I’m god. He won’t understand and he will stop playing with me.” In many Eastern religions it is not absurd to say that we are all in fact god.
Now what about the crazy aspect? Who is to say I’m not just flat out insane? Because the truth of the matter is I still think god is talking to me, and I’m medicated, certified sane. This could just be an ongoing symptom of my disease, Bipolar Disorder. If you believe that, that is OK. Everything is OK.
What is god saying you ask? God only gives me messages of love. That is all. I hear things like, “You helped to create this universe, so why complain about it?” Or “You are loved, and love is all there is. I have always loved you.”
Trust me when I say there is no earthly love like this. Trust me when I say this god entity that is speaking to me just wants love, he/she doesn’t care what I do as long as I love.” Fear is the opposite of love, and I fear when I write these words people will say to me, “Who do you think you are?”
I am not a “good person” per say. I don’t go around doing volunteer work or help the needy or even do anything in particular for anyone. I do take care of my parents who are ill, but that is just my duty. I’m not a “bad person” but I will not win the Noble Peace Prize or anything like that. I lie sometimes, I hurt people every now and then, and I can be a real bitch sometimes.
So please don’t think that I think I’m someone important because I have connected to the god in me. I’m just a regular girl who has been searching for peace since I was little. I would pray like mad when I crossed a major intersection when I was eight or nine, to go to the candy store with my best friend. My parents made me vow to never cross a major road, but I did it every day, and I prayed the whole time that they would not find out. They never found out.
I know that sounds kinda stupid and frivolous. But I always believed in something greater than me. Many of you are wondering, how do I make this happen to me? Why her? She’s an idiot. She swears and doesn’t even go to the temple she’s supposed to go to.
I have no idea how or why this happens to some people. I don’t know what to do with this experience except write about it. I don’t go around talking about it. I don’t even talk to the people who know about this experience. Some of them think I’m wacky and weird, others think it’s possible, and others believe there is something to this.
Take your pick. Choose what you want to think. If anything it is at least interesting. I know that much. I will tell you honestly, I am afraid. I’m afraid of being labeled a complete nut job. Then there is the other side, I fear that people will expect me to be holy and do godly things. I’m not going to. The holiest thing I do is meditate.
This is not normal, I agree with that. But it’s good. It’s good for me.