Dream Diary #106: I Predict A Riot

I was running late for my bus and could see it approaching from further down the road as I dashed into a local shop to get change for my bus fare.

The cashier behind the counter was an old acquaintance to me within the dream, and sort of resembled an old work colleague of mine. She engaged me in conversation, making me temporarily forget that I was running behind.

When I finished my purchase and was about to leave the shop, I couldn't believe my eyes; the entire street outside had just descended into chaos and mayhem!

There were people starting fires and destroying property everywhere. I'd never seen anything like it before in my life.

My bus pulled up and quickly sped off before any rioters could get on, but I didn't care as I knew it was too risky to go outside.

Luckily, the cashier and the rest of the staff let me take temporary refuge in the shop while we waited for the trouble to die down. We stood observing through the window.

The entire front of the shop was one big glass window pane that could easily have been broken but nobody seemed concerned or worried. Strangely, no-one attempted to come inside the shop either. 

Eventually the trouble did start to ease off and so when I saw another bus pull up outside I decided to take it, even though it was far too late to go to my original destination.

Instead, I just took a leisurely trip into the countryside to enjoy nature and the rural surroundings. I began to notice that other's seemed to have followed my example and were taking the same path that I had created. It felt a bit creepy and weird at first but then it made me so happy that I could feel myself getting lighter and lighter until I felt as though I could fly.

Twin Flames Anonymous Part 4: But Did You Die Though?

Tell me, why do lovers have to leave
I know it happens all the time
And it's so sad, cause this time it's you and me
I know I'm losing you but I just can't believe it, baby

--Forever, Tina Cousins

Oh, wow. The fourth part of this piece has taken longer to write than I first thought it would. In part, because re-living the thoughts, emotions and experiences I had in the latter half of 2015 has been more difficult than I thought it would be. 

But also, because each and every time a large scale tragedy hits the headlines I feel an incredible need to reach out to my Love, and yet I can never bring myself to do so. Since he and I 'went into separation' there have been terror attacks in Paris, Belgium and at the time of writing this piece, the more recent shootings in Orlando.

I think because it's one thing to have your innocuous attempts at communication go unanswered, ignored and rebuffed, but to have a genuine need to reach out to and connect with a fellow human being during times that shake you and remind you of the fragility of life met with complete and utter silence and rejection, is something else entirely.

Actually, now that I've written that down I realise how silly that sounds; life is fragile and not only should it not take a large scale tragedy to remind you of that, but also it should be perfectly okay to reach out to someone and tell them that you love them without the expectation of them saying it back. 

Suffice it to say, after I received his email, I reacted about as well as you'd expect someone whose entire hopes, dreams and wishes for the future had been snatched from right under their feet.  

The silence that occurs between twin flames serves to quieten the Ego, to make the Ego realise it is not in charge, giving Intuition a chance to step in and provide guidance... and my Ego quietened with about as much grace and ease as a cat being forced into a bath-tub full of water.

I bombarded him with emails, demanding answers. Why did he think 'it was best'? What had made him feel that way? Why would he just decide to end our relationship without giving me a chance to explain or defend myself? Why wouldn't he hear me out first before making such a drastic decision? 

I tried to explain that I had experienced an anxiety attack which had caused me to act erratically and in direct opposition with how I felt. I feel bad about that now, but at the time it was the closest thing to a 'rational' explanation that I had.

I emailed him a copy of the letters I'd sent him and begged and pleaded for him to let me know if he'd read them, just for my own sanity and peace of mind, which to my shock and surprise, he did!

He apologised for being 'incommunicado', his tone casual and lighthearted, as if he had no concept of what I had been going through, just to make contact with him. He went on to explain that my failure to return had made him sick and as a result he'd taken a break from the internet in order to 'cut down on the stressors.'

His words made me feel rotten inside. I'd been so caught up in my own pain that I hadn't even thought about what he might've been going through.

I knew that my behaviour had completely contradicted everything that I'd verbalised to him but I truly, truly, truly thought he knew that I was definitely returning.

I had paid the equivalent of thirteen hundred dollars for our new home together - why would I pay a sum of money like that for a place I never planned upon living in?

And in regards to my admission of my having experienced an anxiety attack? He simply said, 'Sorry you had an anxiety attack' - just like that.

This was a man who'd fretted over every sniffle and sneeze of mine for years; a man who'd made me gargle salt water before bed when I developed a cough due to not being used to the AC, a man who'd carefully applied bite cream to the backs of my legs when I'd forgotten to bring bug repellent during our first week together. 

And now he said, 'Sorry you had an anxiety attack', like it was nothing. Like I was nothing.

What had I done? I hadn't intended for any of this to happen. I'd come home temporarily to heal my relationship, not destroy it!

And I know it sounds completely crazy, to think that I thought I could act like a complete and utter fool and that he would just accept it, but that's honestly where my line of thinking was. I knew he'd understand. He would definitely understand, there was just no way he wouldn't understand.

No matter how many times I asked him, no matter how I worded it, he would not tell me why he felt the way he did.

Knowing what I know now, I think he wouldn't tell me because he didn't know why he felt the way he did. I still don't think he knows.

At this point, I was already experiencing some pretty crazy symptoms that I couldn't really explain. My core body temperature had risen and no matter how much I showered or bathed I was constantly clammy, sweaty and greasy. I was always exhausted, no matter how much I slept. 

I even experienced weird food cravings, most notably an insatiable desire for protein in the form of raw eggs and meat - which was truly bizarre after having been a Pescatarian (eating fish, but no meat) for well over a decade. 

This symptom in particular had already manifested whilst I was still in the US as my Love watched in amazement as I threw away all of my well-discussed Pescatarian beliefs in an instant as I ordered a greasy chicken burger from a restaurant. 

After he emailed me, however, my body went into overdrive.

I went to bed every night, convulsing and shaking with this weird 'heavy' feeling in the pit of my stomach, that I could only describe as the need to... 'confess', something?

His words rattled around inside my head, taunting me, "I'm just very disappointed... very disappointed... disappointed... you're a disappointment... a disappointment...'

Something deep within me was screaming out, 'I am not a disappointment! I am a good person! I am funny, creative, loving and kind... not a disappointment - I'm not!' But how was I ever supposed to show that to him, if he wouldn't even listen?

In frustration, I wrote An Open Letter right here on this very blog, desperate to find a way to get the feelings on the inside of me, outside. I entitled it 'open letter' but in truth I never actually expected him to read it. I still don't know if he did. I just wrote until the early hours of the morning, pressed the 'publish' button, then collapsed into an exhausted heap.

Later, I recognised that heavy feeling as the need to 'purge.' 

I cried constantly. And not just ordinary crying, either. Have you ever heard an infant cry for a prolonged period of time because the parent is unable to pick it up and comfort it? The crying was like that - visceral, primal. It was like a cry from deep within my soul. 

I cried myself into dehydration over and over again. I cried so hard I actually 'ran out of' snot and some other watery bodily fluid that burned the inside of my nose and smelled and tasted like chlorine came out instead. 

At my lowest point, I could feel a crying fit coming on but I didn't have the privacy I needed to unleash it so I locked myself in the bathroom, sat down on the floor, and bawled my eyes out, covering my mouth with my hands to conceal the literal howls being released from deep within my body. 

His behaviour was completely alien to me. He'd never even shown anger towards me before and now I felt like he hated me! 

I truly thought he trying to psychologically destroy me.

Now, I never actually attempted suicide, but that morning, leaning against the bath-tub, my eyes puffy and red and streaming with tears, 'substitute' snot pouring from my nose and into my mouth, I thought, "Is this it? Is this all I'm meant for?"

Even if I could get over losing him, even if I could ever forgive myself for leaving, even if I could ever open up and become vulnerable enough to have a relationship with someone else in the future, if I was just going to get ditched the moment I showed any kind of weakness or flaw anyway...what was the point?

Seriously, what was the point?

I thought about the ways in which I would do it: overdose? If it failed, I could end up with damaged vital organs. Throwing myself into the path of a moving vehicle? If I lived through it, I could end up paralysed, or having to have limbs amputated. Slitting my wrists? What if it didn't work and just ended up with severed nerves and tendons, rendering me unable to write or draw? Then where would I be? 

So, there you have it ladies and gentleman of the jury - I am still alive today, not because of the love I feel for my family, or even the love for my twin flame. No, I am alive because of my crippling fear of failure; I had failed at life, and I was afraid of failing at death, too. 

Strangely enough, it was later that day that he reached out to me, without any nudging from me. He responded to an e-mail I'd sent, asking if he wanted to remote-watch a movie together, like we'd done before in the past. I'd sent the e-mail without any expectation that he'd actually respond, and I had forgotten that I'd even sent it. He said that, yes, he would like to remote-watch a movie together, and thus began a period of time I now refer to as the 'two week window'.

In all reality, it was more like three weeks, but the first weekend we arranged to watch a movie, he didn't show. As it was in keeping with his current behaviour towards me and I was very sick that weekend I didn't think too much of it. He did get back in touch to apologise and re-arrange, and for a couple of weeks it seemed as though the invisible barriers that had come up between us had lowered, finally.

And you'd think that after all I'd been through just to communicate with him, I'd be all over him demanding answers, explanations. To tell you the truth, I was just so happy and relieved to talk to him again that none of all that other stuff seemed to matter.

While we were watching movies together I placed my hand on my laptop screen, comforted by the fact that he was there on the other end of the chat box.

For a short time it was like old times again. Our communication was still a little reserved, but we still managed to have some genuine 'lol's and 'haha' moments. He even asked me questions like 'what was my favourite movie directed by a woman' which baffled me; he didn't want me to return home to him, but he was still interested in my thoughts and opinions? 

The 'two week window' came to an abrupt end when I got a job interview that required me to show my birth certificate, which I'd left in the US, as proof of my identity and nationality. I had genuine reasons for asking him to send it to me, but I guess from his perspective it must have looked like I had lied about having any intention of returning or something because all I got from him was an abrupt, overly hostile three word response stating that 'Yes (he had it) and, yes (he'd send it to me).' And that was it. That was the last time I ever spoke to him. 

To this day, I still don't know what had made him feel like he could talk to me or why he felt like he had to shut down again. 

And I never did receive my birth certificate. 

I actually stumbled upon the phrase 'twin flames' twice; the first time I was browsing youtube for law of attraction videos when a video entitled Why Do Twin Flames Have So Many Problems? appeared in the recommended videos section. Given that my Love and I's relationship had been littered with problems and obstacles since the beginning, something about the the video's title piqued my interest. I don't remember it making much of an impression on me, but it planted a seed in my head. 

The second time was shortly after the 'two week window' when he unceremoniously shut me out again. I was researching psychological reasons why someone would just shut down upon another person when I happened upon this post in a blog entitled Twin Souls: Silence Is Golden. And there it was again, that phrase: Twin Flames. 

I've already said that I don't believe in co-incidences, and after following the blog for several months now, I may not always agree with everything this blogger says, or how she says it, but in that one post in particular she describes absolutely everything I was experiencing at that moment - everything. It awakened my inner Alice in Wonderland and prompted me to do some research of my own.

Now, if you search 'signs or symptoms of a twin flame relationship', you will find hundreds, maybe even thousands of articles, most of which list very vague, non-specific signs such 'feeling an intense or telepathic connection to your partner' or 'a sense of familiarity, like you have known the person before.'

I'm not saying that those things aren't signs of being in a twin flame relationship, I'm just saying I don't think those things are exclusive to twin flames. You can experience those things with anyone, in my personal opinion.

The article I read, which I unfortunately cannot seem to find, was very oddly specific. How specific, you ask? Well, let me tell you.

It stated, you might be a twin flame if:

...there is a significant age gap between you and your partner 
...you were born on different continents
...you met under unusual or unconventional circumstances
...you met due to a common goal or interest
...you have feelings for this person that you can't explain
...you have a lot in common but are very different from each other, almost opposites in a lot of ways 
...there have been periods of enforced separation and or/silence between you
...one or both of you have at one time or another have felt the need to 'run' from the relationship
...you feel like the 'black sheep' of your respective families and like you never really 'belonged' in the place in you were born and grew up in
...you feel a sense of belonging with this person
...things that would have been deal-breakers in other relationships are suddenly not an issue when it comes to this person
...you have had to face more obstacles and challenges than most in order to be together

I know people often describe things as making the hairs on the back their neck stand on end but, I swear to God, mine actually did.

It was like someone had read actual conversations between my Love and I, wrote them down verbatim in article form, and left it there for me to find and read.  

And the more I researched, the more my heart sank. There seemed to be a distinct pattern that most people were only tipped off about the true nature of their relationship when the bizarre behaviour when twin flames separate and go into their respective corners, occurs.

Separation is only ever supposed to be temporary (I'm going to save my venom and disdain for the twin flame community for another day as that deserves an article of it's own, but I don't buy into the idea that a twin flame is 'only there to heal you') but there was a noticeable lack of those who were able to make it beyond this phase.

I read article after article, testimony after testimony of those who had gotten stuck in constant loops of blame, avoidance, manipulation, cruelty, hurt, denial etc. for months, years... decades! Youtube videos of people who swore they were fine with not being able to be with their twin, who claimed they had 'surrendered to the process' but would still break down in tears at the thought of them, even if they hadn't seen them in years.

I know it's tempting to think that people incorrectly slap the 'twin flame' label on their troubled relationships just because it sounds romantic and poetic - and believe me I've seen that happen - but I wanted nothing to do with it. I wanted no part of it.

I wanted to be in a relationship where we could resolve our problems with communication, honesty and transparency - not one that would 'heal' me by mirroring my issues and fears back to me through silence and avoidance!

I slammed my laptop shut, tossed it to the foot of the bed, pulled the covers over my head and pretended that I hadn't read what I'd just read. But I couldn't do it. I knew, I just knew. It's hard to explain if you've never experienced it, but I knew.

It was like something leaned over me and gently whispered in my ear, "Told you..."

(To be continued)

Twin Flames Anonymous Part 3: The Avoidance Olympics

Say something, I'm giving up on you
I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you

--Say Something, A Great Big World & Christina Aguilera

I know that this is going to sound like a massive cop-out, but I don't even remember much about my journey back to the UK. I was on that damn plane for the best part of around seven to eight hours across the Atlantic and I can't even remember most of it. I don't know if this is common for those who go through this experience but there are still massive gaps in my memory from around this time. 

Landing in the UK was bittersweet. I was happy to see my family again, especially my infant nephew, who had been born on my birthday, just eight days before I left for the US and of course, my grandmother. It was upsetting to see her in such a fragile state, but I'm still glad I got to see her again. 

Beyond that, I felt like I had returned to a world that I just didn't belong in anymore.

I spent the weeks that followed having quality with my family, reconnecting with old friends and revisiting old haunts, yet nothing seemed to quell the sense of panic and anxiety I was feeling, like I hoped it would.

It was as though my heart, head and mouth were on completely different pages. My heart said 'go back', my head said 'no, you have to stay put' and my mouth just blurted out whatever was most convenient at the time. This made me feel so distressed that as a result, any attempts at communication with me from my Love either went ignored or very poorly responded to. 

It seemed as though an invisible wall came down between us and he was on one side trying to get my attention, and although I heard him, I couldn't respond. 

Many times I'd find myself hovering my fingers over the keyboard of my laptop either completely unable to type out a response whatsoever or writing out responses that I couldn't bring myself to send. When I think of what I would be prepared to do now for just a crumb of a scrap of a morsel of communication, this is incredibly shameful to admit. 

Many Twin Flames who have experienced this claim that it's their doubt and fear that their twin doesn't truly love them that caused them to 'shut down', but for me it was the exact opposite. It was my unwavering belief and faith in his love for me that made feel as though I was safe to behave the way I did. He once told me that, 'There wasn't anything we couldn't get through if we just talk about it' and I fell back on that to justify my douche-y, hurtful behaviour.

In spite of this, on the Fourth of July, I saw an American flag in someone's front yard and this unleashed the floodgates and I spent the whole day in tears, just missing him and longing to be with him. It was supposed to be our first real July fourth together and I hated that I was missing out on that experience with him. I pounded out an email to him begging his forgiveness for a previous email I'd sent, where I'd told him I didn't think I could get married if my family weren't there to see me, and to please get in touch because I missed him so very much. 

He replied that he was 'flummoxed' by my behaviour (and rightfully so) but I reassured him that I was definitely going to return, even if it meant that I had to get a job in the UK to replenish my funds, I was definitely returning. 

And I meant it. I really did.

I even paid the deposit on the apartment we had newly rented just days before I left, in full faith that I would be back soon.

Now, I don't know if Twin Flames can control when/if/how they go silent or 'shut down', all I know that this behaviour lasted all of around four to six weeks maximum before I literally couldn't stand being apart from him anymore. I was sitting on my bed in floods of tears, absolutely beside myself with confusion when, what I can only describe as, a 'whoosh!' of love just came rushing to the surface and I just had to connect with him. 

Suddenly, nothing and no-one else mattered; I just wanted to be with him. I craved him. If I could've flown away to a desert island and spent my life with only him, I would have. 

Immediately, I threw open my laptop and typed out a hurried, but excited email. I asked him if he was angry with me and could he please get in touch as soon as he could. 

And I didn't panic too much when it went unanswered.

Instead, I just wrote another, asking him if he wanted to Skype seeing as though it'd been so long since we'd seen and talked to one another? Again, it went unanswered. And again, I didn't worry too much; I knew how hard he worked, how crazy his hours were and I hadn't exactly been the most consistent communicator, after all.

After a week of unanswered emails, I decided to call him. But his phone went straight to voicemail. Over and over. I left voicemail after increasingly tearful voicemail, desperate to reach him. 

In desperation, I emailed our landlord, explaining that I was trying to arrange my return to the USA, but was struggling to locate my Love to make firm arrangements and could he please let him know that I'm trying to get in touch.

The landlord (who didn't live locally) emailed back to let me know that he'd sent someone over to the apartment and there'd been no answer when they'd knocked at the door, which just sent me into a tailspin -- suddenly I wasn't so much concerned with getting in touch with him as much as ensuring his wellbeing.

Later, he emailed me to let me know that my Love had been located, was fine and had 'probably' been instructed to get in touch, and that's all the information he had. I thanked him and anxiously awaited contact. Surely, now that my Love knew how hard I was working to get in touch with him, he would talk to me?

Strange as it sounds, by this point I was anxious but wasn't panicking too much. I knew he had an aversion to online communication and really only used it because of me, so up until that point, I convinced myself that I just kept 'missing' him, and I was convinced, so utterly convinced, that once I'd explained what had happened, it would all blow over and we could move forward.

It wasn't until he appeared as a 'recommended friend' on my Facebook profile and he rejected my friend request that the panic started to truly set in. He didn't even use Facebook so the fact that he had an account was new to me, and now I knew for sure that he had in fact been at a computer and that he was purposely avoiding me. 

I wrote him a letter, on Playboy bunny notebook paper (an inside joke) in a feeble attempt at lightening the mood between us. I sent it using overseas tracking and I watched everyday via the USPS website for almost two weeks only for him to not even pick it up from the post office. 

I did the same a second time and the same thing happened. 

As a last resort, I attempted to contact his family, who were just as in the dark about his behaviour as I was. His mother told me that she had gone to our apartment and either, he was always out, or he just refused to come to the door. I knew he wouldn't like me talking to his family without his knowledge but at the time I justified it by telling myself that he knew I was trying to get in contact with him, so he should have just talked to me in the first place.

And though he said nothing, his silence told me everything my Ego wanted me to know, "He's not fighting for you because you gave him nothing to fight for or hold onto! You're a failure and a screw-up! Who would want to fight for you? Who wants to hold onto a failure like you? You're not worth it!"

I knew in my heart I was none of those things and prayed for a chance at redemption, a chance to do it all again, but with none of the anxiety and fear that had anchored me down for longer and deeper than I had ever realised. 

I knew I'd acted like a colossal douchebag, but didn't even douchebags deserve a chance to explain their side of the story? Didn't even the douchiest criminals in all of history get a fair trial? Where was my fair trial?

I kept telling myself, "If I could just get him on the phone, if I could just get him to read my email, if I could just get him on messenger then I can explain and everything will be okay." After all, wasn't he, in fact, the one who told me that there wasn't anything we couldn't get through if we just talk about it?

The silence was merciless, unrelenting.

I don't even believe in 'God' in the religious sense but even I dropped to my knees on several occasions, praying for mercy. But there was none. No mercy, no relenting, no moment of, "Clearly she's deeply sorry for her actions, I should probably put her out of her misery now."

Trying to communicate with him was like repeatedly ramming up against a brick wall, like he had just... turned to stone.

That man would've won Gold medals in the Olympics for communication avoidance for all the gymnastics he performed trying to avoid talking to me.

"But thiefofstars," I hear you cry, "if you were so desperate to get back to him, why didn't you just book a flight to go back?"

Well, eventually, that's exactly what I did.

After a failed attempt at getting in touch with him via his workplace, I just bit the bullet and booked a flight and emailed him to tell him so. Things weren't looking good, but at least I would have some answers. I hadn't even received a break-up email or phone call from him and I held onto that as proof things could still be turned around.

After all, I hadn't left out of a lack of love for him; I hadn't even left because I didn't want to be with him. It had all been one big, misunderstanding brought on by a lack of communication... and you don't just throw away a ten year relationship just because of a lack of communication, right? 

All that was needed was an open, honest heart-to-heart, I told myself.

I don't know whether it was the flight I'd booked or the attempt to reach him at work that did it, or whether something I'd said had finally pricked a hole in his communication bubble, but the morning after I'd booked the flight, I woke up early and powered up my laptop. 

And there it was, just perched casually in my inbox. After spending the entire month of August tying myself in knots trying to get in touch, was an email from him.

Apprehensively, I opened it and the colour drained from my face as I read what it said.

'It's probably best you don't come. You don't have to be afraid of me. I'm not angry, just very disappointed, sad, depressed.'

It was brief, scolding and almost parental in tone and all of my worst fears about myself realised. 

(To be continued)