Closing the Oldest Karmic Cycle

Today is a very long post, because I am telling a rather long story. This is the story of how I closed the oldest and largest karmic cycle of this soul's career. It is also the story of how I closed a major karmic cycle in my soul family.

The following is an account of what has occurred over the last 10 years of my life. Let this serve as an inspiration to any ready and able to receive it. This is the story of how I ended up in a narcissistic patterned relationship, how I got stuck, and how I left it behind.

In the Beginning

I've never taken break ups well. Usually the ending of a relationship, no matter how flimsy, has resulted in months if not years of sorrow and pain. It's like I would go through the break up, and would find it almost impossible to heal from the heartbreak. So, it was a wound on top of a wound on top of a wound on top of a wound. It was like someone that keeps injuring the same place on themselves, driving the injury deeper into the tissues even as it's barely even scarred over.

There are many reasons for this. Part of it comes from wounding in my childhood and a lack of self-esteem due to a narcissistic mother. Part of it comes from my past experiences in other lifetimes of not healing heart wounds, instead choosing to bulldoze my emotions and "push through" when I should have been taking time alone to heal. Part of it comes from the nature of my soul itself with its tendency to love entirely and completely without recompense or even consideration to the danger involved.

All of it comes down to me being irresponsible for myself.

Nevertheless, there was massive wounding and none of it was healing. I left myself vulnerable, desperate, sad, and open.

So, in late 2014 after 18 months of depression, severe pain, and no healing at all after a break up of a 5 year long relationship, I met someone who offered me love. If you have felt the way I was feeling before, you will likely recognize what I did next. I accepted it and clung to it like it was a life preserver. This was my first error.

Still, the man I met offered me what looked like kindness, consideration, good conversation, and physical touch (of which I have been starved much of this lifetime). And like any starving person, I wanted to make this work. Which meant I was willing to do whatever it took to become whomever I needed to be to make it work.

At first, things were good. Really good. Great even.

Then in January 2015, there was a slip. We were on the couch, bantering, and I playfully tapped his cheek like a play swat from a cat. I'm smiling as I do it, because I'm thinking I'm being cute. He freaked out, proclaimed I had slapped him really hard, and threatened to end the relationship right there. Now I am terrified, scared, confused. I tapped his cheek and I know that's all I did. But I don't want to be alone again. Not so soon. And I feel really, really, really confused. No matter what I say, it doesn't change his claim that I slapped the hell out of him. Actually with each retelling, I appear to slap him harder than the last retelling. But I know I did not do that, but his insistence that I did is overpowering as is my own panic.

He says I need therapy. He says I need medication. Feeling utterly ashamed of myself, I agree I probably do. I go to therapy. I also decide that maybe my emotions are completely destabilized. I agree to medicate myself. Maybe I am an abusive person and don't know it. I worry about my sanity. What if I'm a really bad person?

Yet this incident remains confusing to me. I dismiss that this level of confusion is not a good sign. I ignore the warning in my heart that the whole scenario went weird and unnatural. That something here is very wrong.

I go to therapy.

Now, when I went, I actually did achieve wonderful results in the rest of my life. I went to therapy and addressed the numerous wounds from my childhood. I ended up healing my relationship with my father, which was wonderful. And I understood some of the experiences I had as a child with my mother a little more clearly. I begin to realize that my relationship with my mother is "not right". There's something off about it that I can't put my finger on.

And I get medicated.

The results here were 50/50 in favor, not in favor. While my mood did indeed become stabilized, my access to my creative energy just went away. I stopped painting. I stopped writing. I stopped playing music. I stopped a lot of creative things that used to bring me joy. But I wasn't going up and down like a yo-yo emotionally (which was more an energetic boundary problem, not a mood problem). I figured this experience was somewhat better for the short-term. I had no intention of taking that medication forever. I thought I'd need it for a time, though.

We go through this whole mess, and somehow in May 2015 end up taking a vacation together. So, we went from, "You horrible abusive, unstable woman" to "Let's go on vacation together". I chalked this up to recovering from a fight.

We shall fast forward a little time now, for things stabilize and become less dramatic. I will note that in the intervening time, a conflict breaks out between my mother and my boyfriend. They do not like each other. He doesn't like her, because he says she's manipulative and mean to me. She doesn't like him, because he's taking me away from her.

Both are correct in their statements. My mother was indeed very manipulative and casually cruel to me. And he was isolating me from her. They were two people with similar methods of handling their childhood traumas, but not quite the same.

In the Middle

It is 2017. We have a dog. His name is Jack. And the year previous my boyfriend proposed to me. We're getting married and it's spring.

Everything seems like it's going very well, barring the occasional "fights", which always seem to be about me saying or doing something disrespectful to my now fiancé. In fact, all of our fights surround this subject. It is very rare that I am upset by anything he does, but it seems I am constantly doing things wrong to upset him. I do my best to be better, but there's an unforgiving atmosphere forming in the background. I am not given time to change or adapt or even support for changing or adapting. Instead, when something goes wrong, it's "we talked about this" if it's a "repeat offense", and always silence until I ask to know what I did wrong. Rather than just saying so outright when it happens.

This idea of "repeating offenses" starts to feel oppressive. But only a little. I can ignore it. So, I do. The silent treatment is something I understand from my father, so I also ignore that. Because that seems normal. In fact, the whole pattern of fighting feels familiar and normal. Which is why I can ignore it.

I also ignore that I'm not playing video games as much as I'd like, because he would like my time in the evenings. And I ignore that I'm not painting. I'm losing the will to do it. I also lost the will to play guitar. I feel awkward doing things that make me happy only and not "us" happy. Like I'm not supposed to, but I do not know where this belief is coming from. Just that it's there.

So, we're getting married. I am elated and happy. Truly I am. It ends up a beautifully small wedding, and the honeymoon is outstanding. For a time, all is well and we're perfectly ecstatic together. The pattern above continues, but in a minor way and only every few months. Not so bad.

Then, 2018 happens. My mother begins to exert more and more control over me. She shows up at my work, ostensibly to say "hello", which is perfectly normal given we work for the same entity. But I notice she comes to say "hello", and then proceeds to drain me and make me tired. One time, she shows up just to tell me about the wonderful dinner she had with my brother, whom I haven't seen since my wedding at this point, and how she and father had the best time. I feel awful, left out, put out, and alone. My mother takes no notice of this and gleefully continues to rub it in.

I know that her not noticing is a conscious thing, now. Because everyone who has ever met me says I wear my emotions all over my face. Most Earth humans do not even need telepathy or empathic abilities to know how I'm feeling at any given time, it's written all over me all the time.

This is almost the last straw. I start learning about narcissism because of this moment, and decide to go "gray rock" on my mother. It's almost impossible for me to do at first. I'm not very good at being emotionally dead and boring, even pretending. But I give it a try, because she is exhausting me.

Everything is working, for a time. Until just before Christmas, not 20 minutes after my husband and I arrive at a cabin for vacation, my mother calls me to tell me my grandmother died. And, oh, could I please come to the funeral in 2 days?

The funeral experience is shocking to say the least. My husband is furious with my mother, who while at said funeral proceeds to "forget" my married name right in front of him. She blames this on grief, but she does it three times the entire funeral. Not just once. So, because he is angry, I am ignored. He cannot connect to me. My grandmother has died, not the one I was close to granted, and here's my mother and my husband fighting over me and my husband can't even manage to muster up some veneer of emotional support.

It makes me wonder exactly what it is they are battling over. Surely, it's not my good will, or else they would actually be trying to gain my good will. No, they are treating me like I'm property. Like I'm territory. Some object to be owned.

After this incident, I wait some months out of respect for my mother's grief. Then I go to her apartment with the intention of addressing some issues. Oddly enough, my brother in this time has contacted me. We haven't spoken in a long time, and he is noticing some odd, controlling behaviors coming from my mother. I have his support in this visit, because I think he wants to confront her too.

I go, we talk, I leave feeling confused and like it's all my fault. I call my brother crying, because I feel so guilty for bringing up problems to her. He tells me, "You have every right to do that. Don't let her turn that around on you like that. It's not true. This is what they do." 'They' meaning people with narcissistic tendencies. Still, it makes me not what to bother bringing up problems to people. It's just not worth the pain and confusion. So, I stop bringing up problems across the board. With everyone. I just shut up and keep my head down, and if someone crosses a boundary, I grin and bear it.

Somewhere in this mess, my husband's mother falls and breaks her hip. She's elderly, and this wakes up all kinds of childhood wounding in my husband. He tries his best to help her, but it's stressful. He resents that I'm not enthusiastic about helping her, because I am admittedly not. He sees this as me hating her, I don't. I just don't know her and am dealing with my own mother issues at that time. I feel rather overloaded with little time to myself to be myself. I tell him all of this...in writing, because I find it hard to say these things out loud, but it marks the first time he sincerely apologizes to me.

We will go on a little more before we jump in time again. After his mother's recovery, he discovers his sister has been embezzling money from his mother. He decides he will right this wrong and get everything for his mother safe and under her command. I support him in this effort, and I will say this until my dying day: This is the most noble thing I have ever seen him do, and it is a moment where I see who he really is as a soul. Unfortunately, who he is as a soul has little bearing on who he is incarnated, but I'm not conscious of this yet.

He makes the effort. There's a battle in court over everything that lasts a solid year. His sister is a wary and crafty opponent, and patient. He is not. This experience shows me much of the family dynamic, and I start to understand what might have happened in the childhood my husband never shares or discusses except in carefully curated glimpses. (Did we ever really know each other?)

Unfortunately, the whole experience ends in a stalemated defeat. His mother turns to the shrieking, angry, brow-beating calls of his sister and effectively betrays his trust. All that effort seems wasted. (I hold it was never a waste, because he discovered who he really is. But this lesson did not make it home for him. The betrayal was too great.) His mother even acts like she hates him and cannot bear to look at him. I'm heartbroken for him.

In the End

Now we jump forward in time a little more. Suffice to say that the established patterns continue where all relationship problems are my fault, where I do not bring up any problems on my behalf, and my mother reinserts herself in my life. We're just in a cycle all going around each other, with new cycles added because of the aforementioned betrayal. It's slow, but these cycles keep spiraling tighter around one another.

During this time we start to plan on homesteading to get away from humanity. This idea appeals to me. I lend much of my energy trying to manifest this.

It's early 2022. Over the winter, I started meditating for the first time in many years. I decided to start releasing and healing myself energetically. It seems like a good idea at the time, and maybe I can heal myself without needing a therapist. I'm also silently learning telepathy. I found a primer online from Su Walker and her P'onti friends (little gardeners). I do this at night before going to sleep. It seems simple enough, and I'm well rewarded for the efforts. And I don't have to tell anyone I'm doing it, because it's all happening in my head. It's my own private Idaho.

To keep this simplified, since we're not talking about this in detail here, I learn very rapidly that I have psychic gifts. Lots of psychic gifts. That I have always had these. And more keep opening up every few weeks. Early in the spring, I am watching a tarot reader on YouTube. I find I'm getting the reading before she is. I stop her video. I say out loud, "I can read tarot. I think I should get a deck."

Yet the moment I go to do so, I am full of terror. And when I muster up the courage to do so and begin learning, I find I am abnormally paranoid about my husband seeing me do a reading. This is not something fun that I gleefully show him. This is something I hide in fear of discovery. At the time, I have not been able to remember too much about past lives, in fact that's only just getting started. But I can sense that something very bad happened between me and him where I had some kind of gift, he found out, and it went very bad. And that's why I'm afraid. My first assumption is I was accused of witchcraft. (Correct. But not for tarot. It was herbal medicine.)

I move past it as best I can and still make myself learn in spite of my fear.

I want to share all the things I'm learning, though, so I try to do so. I try to discuss spiritual subjects with him. They don't go anywhere. He humors me, but I can tell he's not interested. At all. I try to discuss politics, and that is shut off because it stresses him out to talk about it. In fact, a lot of things we stop talking about because he's not interested or it stresses him out. The list of topics we can discuss gets smaller and smaller.

At the same time, we have found the property we're looking for for the homestead. This is very exciting!

Also in early 2022, I get written up at my job for not wearing a Covid mask. My husband supports this, but it also means I do not want to work at for my employer anymore. I'm more than a little pissed at them. He also "supports" this, but when I go to look for a job, he controls the entire process. He wants progress reports. He puts a lot of pressure. When I think I've found something that will make me happy, he shoots it down. My job search, which lasts for a good 8 months, goes absolutely nowhere. It is entirely blocked. Not to mention I'm so stressed out, I just quit trying.

So, I try to start my own business. I decide I will work for myself. My husband "supports" this, until I make a Rumble channel. He won't watch a single video I make. I decide to open an Etsy shop and try to get started with something like making bracelets. He "supports" this, but doesn't really believe it will go anywhere. There's a lot of "supporting" going on with this whole process. Paying lip service, but I can feel there's nothing else there. No actual energy being offered.

Still, I give it a damn good try. I find I like making videos, even if it initially scares me. There's a hum of higher purpose when I speak to people. Especially when I don't even bother with tarot cards and just channel my own higher self. That really gets my motor running!

I also stop taking the mood stabilizer. I make an agreement with my husband about how I will do it, sign it, and take a full 6 months to slowly come off that medication. By fall of 2022, I feel myself again. I start feeling things again, and this time, I'm not on a roller coaster. Now I can handle all the disparate energies and emotions all around me without getting knocked off my horse.

End of 2022, I have had enough of my mother's meddling. I go "no contact" with her.

I also decide I'm decent enough at tarot that I will offer my services and see if I can make money that way. I begin to manifest this as a job. I can feel it happening. I can feel myself manifesting it, and I know that's what's happening. I get excited, and I make a critical error.

I tell my husband on New Year's Eve my dream for 2023. I say to him at dinner, "By the end of 2023, I want to make enough doing tarot readings that I can quit my job."

What I expect will happen: Questions about my strategy, support, planning steps forward, discussion on how this could happen. (What would normally happen in a healthy relationship.)

What actually happens: Silence, fury, anger, and 3 days non-stop of silent treatment with him coming home from undislcosed locations completely drunk.

I have no idea why me just proposing I take a new direction in my life has created this explosion. But it is a nuclear level explosion of the relationship. He drinks. He ignores me. He acts like I don't exist. We have tense discussions that go nowhere. This is the point where I end up on my knees asking how to be better. This is also the point where one evening while he is out, I ask to talk to Jesus (light being we knew as such, whatever his real Earth name was).

I'm sitting on the hearth sobbing uncontrollably, because my husband has stormed out for the evening like I don't matter. He won't be back until later. I'm sitting there, and I realize I'm just open channeling. I'm talking for myself, and I'm talking for Jesus. I ask why it is my husband cannot love me for who I am. Why do I have to be someone I'm not for him to love me?

I say very clearly back, "Because he doesn't love himself. How can he love you that way in return?"

This realization sends me in a tailspin. I feel more heartbroken about this concept than I do about him not loving me for me. Part of me is astonished at this, the rest of me is unsurprised. This is the death knell of the marriage, though it takes 2 more years for it to close up. This moment is the moment I realize that unless he heals himself, he will never be able to give me what I want out of a relationship. It is also the moment I realize I cannot continue to put myself in a box just to please someone else. That doing so is a betrayal of myself. Finally, the blinders have come off.

I spend 2023 healing myself. I go back to therapy. I do not take medication, even though my husband wanted me to do so. This time, I actually address the elephant in the room: What is wrong with this relationship and what am I doing to attract this behavior?

My therapist and I heal my self-worth together. We decide this is a definite issue along with poor boundaries. I start learning how to more thoroughly energetically shield myself. My relationship with my husband gets a little better. It's almost as if all the cycles and patterns have been frozen in stasis. For a brief time, it's like he's another person entirely. I like this version of him.

I feel full of hope that maybe this could heal and things could turn around. Maybe it'll get better.

By the end of 2023, everything feels somewhat positive, though I have not been able to get the tarot business going anywhere. Or the Etsy shop. Or anything else other than making videos, and those are not lucrative. This perplexes me. Further, the property we purchased with the intention of building a house for a homestead is also not going anywhere at all.

What is blocking this? Why? It's like every manifestation I have attempted is just stopped. It's frustrating.

Further, both of my beloved dogs have died within 6 weeks of each other, and I am still grieving this even though we got another dog. She's just not the same.

The year ticks over into 2024. The dynamics in the marriage start to change rapidly. Very rapidly. My husband is acting more controlling and less passionate. The sex has just dried up. It's like he doesn't try. He doesn't kiss me unless I initiate, so, to experiment, I stop initiating. I enter a "what happens if I do this?" phase. I learn he is not good at initiating, and that all passionate expression is usually me initiating (unless he's quite drunk and/or high).

By March, we're on vacation for St. Patricks' Day. In the middle of the parade we're watching, I suddenly realize I am not in love with my husband anymore. It just. Happens. I try not to cry, but the realization hurts. I don't know what it means or what I will do. I just know it's the truth.

I spend time thinking about this, and I realize we don't really have much in the way of conversation. We talk about shows we're watching. And we talk about food. And drink. And he likes to criticize people who are fat or ugly or have funny color hair or are lesbians when we're out. But that's about it. That's what we talk about. I feel disappointed. When the relationship began, we talked about a larger variety of things.

It's May, we're supposed to take a trip somewhere for my birthday. I'm really excited. Until our new dog eats nightshade in the backyard and gets sick. So, we cancel. I am okay with it because I'm worried about Zora being sick, though disappointed. I plan to go relax by myself at the lake on my birthday instead. That always makes me feel better. Except on the day of my birthday, the dog is sick everywhere in the kitchen and my husband is upset, angry, and screaming at the dog. The entire house feels stressed and strained. I hate this. I want to go away.

I go out on my hike and sit in my hammock by the lake, but while I'm out there, the dog is sick again and my husband is sharing his anger with me via text. While I want to be at the lake to calm down. I go home after an hour or two, and going out to dinner, I experiment with not initiating holding hands. (I'm kinda put out anyway.) I wait to see if he will reach for my hand. He doesn't. At all. Suddenly, I just feel incredibly angry.

We go out to dinner, and he complains the whole time about the food. In my head, I wonder what would happen if I just got up and walked out. I have never thought these thoughts before. Growing up, my father used to do that to my mother (leave her at dinner), and I swore to myself I would never do that...though I finally understand why he would get up and leave like that. So I stick it out. I try to be understanding. I try to let it go. "Be Buddha," I tell myself.

We get a puppy, and we are both exhausted by the puppy. This just makes things worse. Though the puppy is wonderful in his own way.

The next few months are a rapid decline in civility. I feel out of sorts. I am not in love with him anymore, and I cannot pretend to be so. But I can be kind and I can be loving, so I try to be that. I try to do that in hopes that whatever is making me feel out of sorts will sort itself out. I decide to be patient with myself and continue to work on healing myself quietly.

When he gives the silent treatment, though, I proceed to ignore it. I will never be on my knees begging to be told I was wrong ever again. He asks me what is wrong, I say "Everything is all right." Because it actually is. Everything is all right. As far as I can tell, how I am feeling is completely sensible for what is occurring. There is nothing functionally wrong, because this is a natural response. I am working through this response on my own, because only I can be responsible for how I'm feeling. Also, I know that question is a loaded one. "What is wrong with you?" is the question, not "What is wrong?" So, I don't answer with what he wants.

My refusal to do that triggers this very unkind streak in him. He starts to mock me when I speak. He starts to insult me. Demean me. Make me feel messy and stupid. I do my best not to take the bait and just observe. My soul advises me at all times to just observe. To make note. So I do. I begin to wonder, "Is it right for a husband to treat his wife this way? To make no effort to bridge the gap? Why isn't he asking 'what can I do to help'? Why is it always me who must do all the healing?"

I also start to ask if I should leave the relationship. My soul says, "No" for many months. Sometimes I have asked this question before, sporadically, but it's always been "No". The reason is often "It would create unnecessary chaos for you."

I sometimes think my soul wants to try to transmute this whole entire business. We are master alchemists, but I am not always in agreement with this idea because I'm unhappy, tired, confused, disempowered, and stressed. I don't know what I need to do in the long-term, so I just take it one day at a time.

Sometimes, under stress, I dissociate. It used to happen unconsciously, but I have gained conscious control over this ability. It's very easy for me to detach completely from my body. As easy as taking a breath.

By this point, I dissociate any time I am around my husband. I am watching things happen in a completely detached way, while I can feel my body reeling under the stress day in, day out. My nervous system is on fire. I ignore it. My digestive system isn't functioning. I ignore it. My mind is exhausted. I ignore it. I am not sleeping. I ignore it. You could say I turned off my ability to feel my body for a little while.

One night, while sitting on the couch, I am stressed by him avoiding me. I keep asking "Why? Why? Why?" My soul very gently says, "What if he's narcissistic?"

My ego immediately is on point, "No, we are not looking at that. It can't be. No! I don't want to look at that!"

My soul just asks again, "What if he's narcissistic? Just think about it."

"You want me to do some research?"

"Yes."

I do some research. The research fills me with horror. I digest it, calm down, and observe some more. I try to detach from the research to make sure I'm not just manifesting outcomes based on my research. It appears that isn't the case, so I do some more research. Until I feel called to stop and sit still for a week. So, I do. By the end of the week, I have reached peak levels of "I cannot do this anymore."

My research has now included the subject of divorce. Just looking at the word makes me break down sobbing at my desk at work. That it had come to this point breaks my heart. But it has, and I know it.

So, one night I ask Source to intervene. I ask Source to give me the opportunity to say the words. I recognize that I am too weak to open the door by myself. That I need help. That I cannot do this alone. I ask my soul to channel me the words to say, because I also know I am too weak to conjure them from my mind. I feel too broken to do much of anything.

2 days after I ask for help, my husband asks me if I want to still be with him. The way he asks it is so incredibly gentle it breaks my heart to even utter the words I know I have to say. I almost don't, because of the gentleness. But I have to remind myself that such gentleness is temporary and only appearing because the door is open.

I can barely get any words out at all, but I manage to make it clear I want to leave. The very next day, we are in separation. This means we cannot share a bedroom, which means we trade places sleeping on the couch. One morning, I come downstairs and pictures are missing from the walls and tables. They are our wedding pictures. I feel like I'm being unpersoned.

I consult a lawyer as soon as the business week starts. She helps me feel like I can do this. That's all I really needed. That and a little prompting about what I want in terms of where I'd live. I realize I have not given that enough thought. I haven't given anything much more thought than, "I want to leave" and "It will be all right."

A few days later, we have another talk. I find I can say more clearly and confidently that I want to leave. I feel it is the right thing to do. He wants to know why. I try to explain how his continual use of the silent treatment made it hard to talk to him and kept hurting me. I try to explain how I felt like it was difficult to be vulnerable with him, and how it feels like I'm always the one who is doing things wrong. He says, "I don't understand. You're not making sense." Then proceeds to tell me I am a "sucky communicator".

Maybe I am in the context of this relationship, but I know I am not everywhere else. I'm still in observer mode, so I log this to think about later.

We have one more talk, and this is finances and deciding how we want to proceed legally. By this point, I have consulted a lawyer, researched the documents I need to proceed, and seriously thought about what to do with my life next. I realize I don't have to make any huge decisions right now. I can, in fact, just relocate to an apartment nearby and spend a year recovering. This idea appeals to me. In fact, my soul is often shaking my shoulders in excitement at this direction. Her excitement is infectious when it's able to break through the 40 other emotions I'm feeling at any moment.

Within 2 weeks of the initial door opening, I have filed for divorce. We decide to sign an agreement on our property and finances to make the whole process go as fast as possible without having to go to court officially. Whatever may be happening behind the scenes, I feel personally this is the most honorable thing for us both. We both get to save face and do this in a dignified fashion. If I'm going to turn everyone's life upside down, I'll at least be dignified about it.

I take everything to the court clerk, and as she looks it over she is surprised to see that I even have all my exhibits. As well as an acknowledgement. I am in and out in 30 minutes, and the final hearing is already on a calendar. All I have to really focus on is moving myself.

My friends and family are effusive in their support, oddly enough. I did not expect that, and am pleasantly surprised.

The move also manifests itself rapidly. The day before I filed, I went and toured an apartment in the complex I wanted to live in. I had a panic attack on the way home. This was a big change, and it was too much at once. My soul says, "No problem. We'll go about this the other way around. Let's start packing things to get you in the mood to move. Once you see a few boxes, you'll be ready to submit an application." I asked how long I should wait on the application. She says, "Oh, give it about 7 days. And don't worry, the one you want will be there."

So, I gather packing supplies. I begin to pack my library, because that is the least immediately used. By the time I have half the library packed, it's been 7 days. The apartment I want is not only there. There are three of the same plan. I get to choose!

From that point onward, I just follow my soul beat for beat. The utilities are set up in under an hour. I finish packing everything possible over a week before the scheduled move date. I learn that packing is a very energetically intense experience, and that each object must be energetically unplugged from the house and cleansed. Most of this I do automatically as I pack, but I can feel the toll it takes. Putting away a single box of books leaves me tired and hot, even though I barely lifted anything. Still, it must be done.

My reality starts to change beat for beat. As I am preparing to leave my husband, my husband is preparing to leave me. It's happening at once, though the experience isn't very nice. At one point, I think he realizes he cannot trust himself to speak without being mean, so he resorts to writing. This is much better for both of us.

One night, however, he has an emotional explosion while he's outside grilling. I watch through the window as he hurls 20 containers full of plants against the fence, and upends everything else that's too heavy to throw. It's scary, so I go upstairs and stay away from him. I mention this to my friends and family. Every male in my life is suddenly on red alert. It's a week before the move. I can handle this one more week. Some of my male coworkers are dubious of this.

Thankfully, nothing happens. The next week I move. It was exhausting all the way around. However, I begin the move on a Monday and I am completely unpacked with every moving box gone, food in the fridge, and art hung up by Friday. Let it never be said that I am not a hard worker when push comes to shove. I have friends who help, and I hire a mover for the heavy lifting. It all gets done "on time", I think. Though what I'm "on time" for I don't know.

The next month is peaceful, but different. Every single part of my life is different. I don't have dogs anymore, and while I cried saying goodbye to them, I know they're in good hands and where they need to be. I also know intuitively that my ex-husband needs them for healing. I brought the cats, and they are enjoying retirement and sleeping on the furniture again. (They never liked living in a house with dogs.)

I find I struggle with the concept of doing whatever I want. I find I don't always know what I want. Sometimes I forget that it's my apartment, and I can put things wherever I damn well please. All of this feels foreign to me, but it's not the first time I've lived alone like this. Just... This time it's different. However, I do put crystals everywhere. And I give the protection Buddha a proper home. My brother gifts me his old full-size weighted piano keyboard, and I start to learn to play the piano. (You should have heard his sigh of delight when I told him that's what I wanted to do. He's been trying to get me to learn since we were kids.)

Some days I grieve my previous life. Sometimes I cry so hard I have to sleep with a little amigurmi fox just to calm myself down. I feel no weirdness about this. Nobody knows but me anyway. (And now all of you, but whatever. I'll do what I have to do to calm my inner child.)

Most days are simply peaceful, and I play with different self-care routines. I become very focused on this concept. Also, I get weirdly obsessive about being tidy. I think this is temporary, maybe, it's a little stressful. But I just want everything in order. Perhaps it's preserving my sanity or a manifestation of all the re-arranging happening within myself. Or both.

I discover most of the time, I'm open channeling my stellar family. I verbalize telepathic conversations, and I don't care how bizarre that sounds. It's what I do. I've been doing it for years in the car, now I just do it all the time. At least in private. Don't worry, I don't walk around muttering to myself in the gro...cer...y...store...--oh wait, sometimes I do without realizing it. Well, oh well. Society will survive with one more muttering person walking around. It's all right.

Anyway, you can feel the energy uplifting here, can't you? Yes. That's what happened. So much weight fell right off. And sleeping improves immediately. Along with digestion. My nervous system took a little longer to calm down, but that's nothing regular salt baths don't help. In fact, I make that a routine several times a week.

By the time mid-October rolled around, I felt much better about life in general. Though the final hearing for the divorce was looming, and that left me with considerable fear due to past life experiences. Nevertheless, I faced it, because I had to. Because if I didn't, I'd be arrested for not showing up to my own bloody court date. Somehow I found that hilarious. Arrested for not attending my manifestation.

I went, of course. The day before, the fear went away and was replaced with excitement. My soul said, "It's liberation day" not "The Hearing day". So I told myself every time I thought of the next day, "It's liberation day".

I spent more time waiting than at the podium. Because we had agreed mutually to part ways, all I had to do was affirm what I had already submitted. A few minutes of answering questions and affirming what was to change, and it was done. The cycle was broken. Forever. For everyone.

My soul is finally free of this karma. We do not have to play this game anymore. Now I get to take all I learned and give it to everyone who needs it or asks for it. Which is partially why I have written this. So that it's out there in the collective consciousness.

---

If there is anyone reading this who finds themselves stuck in a relationship with narcissistic overtones, I tell you that you can leave. You have the power to, even if you don't feel like you can. If I can go from being on my knees begging to be told I'm wrong to standing upright and walking away, you can too.

I thank you for your time. All my love to you who are stuck. Adiamas.

​--Kyriel