I faced a childhood fear today. It came up unexpectedly and I had a panic attack (in public) and just as it was getting the better of me, I remembered that I came prepared and pulled out a book. I was able to calm myself by remembering who I am now, as opposed to who I was when this pattern was created.
I remembered to call in my Ancestors for strength and support, then reminded myself I am a strong woman now, here… in this moment. The book I took with me, is filled with tales of strong women, from all timelines and cultures who have come before us to pave the way for us by example. This is one reason why I chose this book to take with me. This marvelous book is called ‘Grandmother Moon’ by Z. Budapest.
First off I will say, when I was discussing going in to the Doctor, with Brent, Sophia started sobbing, saying, “No Mommy, you can’t go there, I don’t want you to die.” Normally this would be something I wouldn’t react to, but it hit me very hard, she was just so upset, and I could not figure out where she got that idea. But I assured her I would be fine, and went to my appointment while she was in school so she wouldn’t worry.
Empaths don’t do well in waiting rooms for long periods of time, especially where people are emotionally charged and in physical pain, such as at a hospital. The emotions and feelings of panic I automatically attributed to myself, just like I did in childhood. This whole time… I was feeling ‘others energy’… as a child, teen, and as an adult today. When I made this realization, a calm came over me and a smile came across my face as I saw my inner child recognize it was not her fault. The anxiety, tension, anger and frustration felt each time I visited a medical institution was other people’s stuff, not mine.
The fear of waking someone up to ask for help. Fearing the anger they would have at having to get up in the middle of the night to take me to the nearest hospital, the fear that I would pass out from lack of oxygen, before we reached our destination, the tension.of knowing that only a few hours of sleep would be had. The anxiousness about having to answer questions that may come up if they saw the bruises, which I hid from my family. Knowing I would be roaming the ceiling and not want to get back in my body.
The fear I had of the painful tests, procedures and even the diagnosis each time an appointment was scheduled. The pain I felt, the chemical reactions which led to blisters, which led to the Dr popping them… more visits… more pain. The most important revelation was – each time I left the house – I experienced pain, usually in an office of some kind, by someone who claimed to be an ‘authority’ yet seemed to cause me more pain. Some Doctors in the 70’s when I was young, were cruel, heavy handed and experimental with treatments. I was hypersensitive on all levels, not only physically, and it was inconvenient to people, to say the least.
Further to this, I was either rewarded for being “good” i.e., keeping quiet, not crying, doing as I was told or punished for not. Again more pain – my reward for saying I’m in pain… or saying… no. Not being able to say no to any of these visits, nor defend myself, as I was trying to maintain my breathing as well as my awareness, left me wanting to crawl out of my skin and find some safety. Coupled with the other abuses I endured, I grew to hate my body… I hated being in my body as I had no control over what happened to it.
Asthma inhalers were not available yet, so you couldn’t just whip one out and get immediate relief. Usually there was a few hours (if I was lucky), or some nights all night long gasping for air, propped up in a corner on the floor, or on a chair with well intentioned people forcing my head back, making it more difficult to get air. Some too stubborn to take me in to town, saying I was faking it, and others who could see I needed help.
Events happened when I went to those places, which I couldn’t speak of (“it was the devil’s work”), people that others couldn’t feel affected my visits, as I would feel disconnected and withdraw for safety, which usually was not well received by someone asking questions and expecting an answer… but they were not the only one talking.
The giant puzzle of my medical background would astound anyone, when seen as a whole -which is why I am able to do what I do. I empathically feel the pain or illness in my body, but I recognize the pattern I feel – through familiarity or previously experiencing what I recognize.
So as an adult Empath, trying to sort out the myriad of sudden symptoms, I have had to withdraw again, so I can sort out what was mine and what was not. So for months, fear has had a grip on my subconscious mind, producing all those emotions which I did not know could still affect me. This has, until today, kept me from seeking medical help for my symptoms.
I tell clients all the time, if you need medical help, go get it, I know this. I encourage it, as there are times we just need physical help, to be able to find balance again. Being empathic I take on a lot of what I see in others when my body is not in balance, so it is imperative that I regain my equilibrium and now is the time.
I have already documented what I believe the issues are, and I have told the Doctor. We shall see where this road takes us, but for today, the blood work has begun and I am on the road to overcoming, yet another illusion masked as fear.
No surprisingly, these same reactions and patterns were transferred to various people throughout my life. Those more concerned with how it would affect them financially, or how it may mar their reputation if I was sick, or injured, than getting me the help I needed.
Then there was a very special man; my Step-Father, who didn’t mind being awake early. He was very patient and kind and would crack jokes to keep me calm, and walk slowly, and assure me it all happens for a reason.
He showed me it was ok to get help if I need it, and that being a true healer means accepting the healing in whatever form it comes to me… even in a “white man’s hospital”. That always made him laugh from his belly, and then he would talk to the sky, (usually in the parking lot of the hospital full of people) raising his arms above his head, palms open to the sky; “Grandmother moon, please bring healing to my daughter.” I would laugh it off as an embarrassed teenager, but was I was also aware that I always healed much faster than was expected.
Back to Sophia’s reaction, I was 8 months pregnant when I spent the last few days of my Step-Father’s life in the hospital with my whole family, saying goodbye, releasing him and thanking him for all he taught us. This was a very emotional time and it was unexpected. He did not want to have tubes in him and we honored his last wishes by letting him die in dignity. Less than an hour after the machine was turned off he passed. Sophia was there with me through all of this, she carries memory, which is why today she gave me the biggest hug when I saw her this afternoon. She said she was proud of me for going to the Dr and thanked me for coming out of that place.
This is the other (and unknown at the time) likely reason that I chose this book, and called on Papa today for support, as I knew he would be there with me. Please accept my deepest gratitude, Papa, my Ancestors and of course Grandmother Moon for this awareness and healing.
I am humbled and yet, feel so free in this moment.
Much love, and know we are all in some struggle, we just do our best to see clearly, through our own illusions and those we have inherited which hide just beneath our awareness.
In Love ~ M
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