Once I conquered anxiety, my mental disturbances have progressed to a new stage of regularly occurring nightmares of the most horrible kind.
A quite characteristic and sinister instance of a very bad dream took place recently. Many of those whom lived in the little village I grew up in, folks from my childhood, were gathered in our church, albeit I was there as the current me. In the entrance, there was an oversized cauldron, filled to its rims with boiling blood and small body parts of various kinds. Inside the church, the congregation’s skin was peeling off by itself and all of them acted normally, whilst turning increasingly repulsive.
Despite my inability to find pleasure in these resurfacing horrors, I am still appreciative of their recurrence, for these events I choose to observe as the clenching of my mind, confident that one day, this shall be over and replaced with nights of ceaseless serenity. This is apparently quite usual for us that go sober and clean and I can testify that by ridding oneself of the mental protective nature of cannabis, dreams do indeed become particularly
more vivid and expressive. This is merely the freeing of years of suppressed emotional defeats.
By steering clear of fear when woken up from these terrors, I keep the power of my mind in my own hands and thereby prevent anxiety overriding reason. The key to utilizing nightmares as an instrument of healing, is to stay calm, collected and confident in the underworld of our psyche.
The second dawn of my life is approaching. In the meanwhile I shall keep the sword of my soul sharp and ready, between sunset and sunrise, until every last demon has been submitted and slayed.
Thank you for reading and may your two thousand and seventeen come to a better place as well,