We all bleed red

This is the first time I’m divulging this. My mind.

My mind is a powerhouse. I have extraordinary intuitive and cognitive abilities. It’s always baffled me and proven too strong for me to manage. So I developed an intricate fantasy-world from a very young age where I’d retreat and get lost. This was essentially dissociation where I’d find myself in a different realm, oblivious to reality. I remember one such episode that took place when I was four; I was in my pajamas, getting ready for bed. It was a weekend, because I didn’t have dagis (nursery) the next day, and it must have been mid winter because it was already very dark outside. Anyway, I went round and round the coffee table in the living room, repeating the absurd questions ‘ who am I? Where did I come from? Why am I here?’ endlessly until I slipped into a trance where I drifted off into a star-studded space, at which point I snapped out of it, fearful that I’d get lost in it forever.
I’d have questions no one would take seriously, and observations that’d be trivialized because it was  just a child’s fantasy. So I held more conversations in my head than in real life, where I was very reserved and quiet.

With the years I learnt that my thought process and mindset were abnormal, and I tried to shut this down. I saw it as a curse because it made me an outlier, a freak. I was pressured on both sides– by my mind, and by society. I shut down, became callous and impassive. I was always bullied because I wasn’t a good conformist. I’m not saying this as some sort of hallmark of my ‘non-conformity’, as if that’s indicative of my uniqueness. It’s never been something that made my life easy – not then, not now. So, I was bullied but I made sure to never show that it affected me. I was always very quiet and kept to myself – I never really tried to make friends. Looking back, all I remember is the grey autumn days, and cold winter mornings. I naturally gravitated to despondence. But no matter how much I tried to feign indifference, I was a child that felt no love in this world and it did hurt me. I’d try to hold it in for the longest time, but the day came when I’d explode in a fit of rage that made me Hulk-like. In those moments, I felt no pain or fear and I could very much kill if the opportunity availed itself. I gave no shits. I remember one such incident in my second grade when I chased a boy with a big kitchen knife I took from the school canteen, hellbent on plunging it in him. Thankfully he escaped, even though I ran on the double.

You see, I wasn’t allowed to talk back to my parents, nor were any tantrums tolerated. So I had to hold it in, making me a very bitter and angry adolescent. This was something I gradually grew out of as I learnt to speak my mind.

The more I grew into my own, the more I could manage these abilities. And what abilities they are! Mind reading, premonition,precognitions, and pain empathy are just a handful of what I’ve developed. I dream almost every night, and the dreams are always full of messages, and more often than not they are prophetic – meaning, they herald something that is about to happen, whether in me, or actual events. Many times I have lucid dreams where I know I’m dreaming and I take advantage of that by doing supernatural stuff like flying, or teleporting, or even freeze time. And sometimes I even have lucid-dream dreams, where I dream within a dream, and I recount the dream to someone else, whilst still dreaming.  Phew! Talk about confusing!  o_O  Haha. But quite frankly, these are some of the things that assuage my pain, and make it bearable to carry on.

Now, I don’t subscribe to astrology or any New Age woo-woo that has flooded the world of late. I don’t know if my abilities are innate or if they are simply the product of years of practice. I don’t know if it’s due to my predisposition to sensory-processing sensitivity and my HSP – I don’t know, nor is it something that concerns me, the why.

All I know is that my life’s biggest mission thus far has been to overcome the fear that comes from the startling insights and abilities that border on the supernatural, and develop the strength to channel these into the right avenues. And the two – overcoming fear and developing strength– are inherently intertwined because the only way I can develop strength is to feel the fear and do it anyway. This isn’t something elective, a lofty goal of self-development that I choose to do because I’m destined for greatness and -. No, this is survival for me. I have to do it, because if I don’t, if I give in to the fear, I’ll become weaker and my fears grow in strength until all I can see in the horizon of my life is dark rain clouds. In the times I have let myself fall, I fell right into the clutches of suicidal thoughts. If it were up to me, if I didn’t have to feel the pain and the burden, I’d probably elect to go through life numb. I’d much rather sit on my bum, and watch re-runs of Seinfeld, or whatever. Seriously. Who picks pain by choice? Not me. No sir.Others can be the next Mother Theresa’s and Bill Gates’- I’m content with life as long as Hannibal is on TV, and the stores stock coca-colas.  And maybe that’s precisely why I have this gift-curse; because I would waste my life otherwise.

I try not to think about this or compare myself to others. I used to do that before, and I’d always end up feeling gloomy. I wish I could hard nose my way through life and not be brought down to my knees by my emotions. I wish I could have an ordinary life. That, I wish on dull days when all I see is rain clouds. But then, I’m reminded of all the good I’ve accomplished and all the people whose lives have changed remarkably because they felt hopeful. The people who have healed through my pain and my experiences, the people who felt validated because I went through the same – ironically, these people healed my pain when they thought I was healing theirs. I saw myself in their eyes, and by feeling their pain, I could feel my own; something I try to avoid.

I realized though we might go through different things in life, we all feel pain in similar ways, and we all long to appease this pain. For some, this subdues them and they become hateful. For others it elevates their consciousness and allows for self-growth. But for most, it locks them in a pain-avoiding mindset and ‘…the lust for comfort murders the passion of the soul, and then walks grinning in the funeral.”¹


¹ Khalil Gibran, The Prophet

‘.

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