This morning something pulled me back to bed after I got up.
I considered it guidance, and I got back to bed.
What came next was amazing: trips down memory lane, all centering around mental illness, mental stability, your TLB, and what was in common among the many people I remember so clearly, people I spent time with in mental institutions.
As an empath, other people’s feelings, emotions tend to tug at me. today 99% of what I feel is not mine… But before I became conscious, before I started to climb the consciousness tree, 30% of the feelings I felt were mine. I also had a lot more voices in my head… all talking at the same time.
The only reason I know, with 20/20 hindsight, that I was hospitalized not for what I felt, is that none of the medication worked… I wasn’t the person who was crazy, I just felt the craziness of others.
My theory of mental illness has always been that it is an escape… a hiding place.