Taking Stock of What's To Come

Sorry my last entry was so… apathetic. Like I said, I’m exhausted… physically, emotionally, socially. Just worn down to the bone.

I didn’t write a lot last year. I was fighting a depressive episode at the same time I was enduring horrific migraines for six months. It drained me on so many levels. I had to get Cat to toe-the-line on her doomsayer talk, because my head was well ahead of hers already. The tribe imploded– between Cat’s lack of flexibility and Reese’s lack of honesty, it just couldn’t bear up. It’s been a peaceful semi-parting, but so very sad for us all.

And then there was the OTHER thing going on in my life that I didn’t really talk about…

Last summer, the thing I was dreading came up. The certain news that Trump would be our next President, thus beginning a massive Depression (a recession writ large) to rival the last one, and a Fascist takeover of our democracy, leading to martial law and all kinds of crazy shit. I’ve been talking about my visions of the future that I got from the 1970s thru the early 2000s (and a handful of times after that) for a while now. But there was always the hope that it was bullshit. Last year I was given to understand it wasn’t and that we were out of time.

It began with a series of active abduction events between late January and early April of last year. Once to twice a week on average, I had obvious signs that I was being taken. That’s the most active it’s been for me since… WAAAY back in 2005-2006! For a few years now, the abduction “season” for me is February/March. And we’re talking being taken three to four times total during that period. Last year it was once or twice a week for weeks on end.

But why?

Something had to have changed. “They” don’t do anything without reason. And I’m post-menopausal, so it wasn’t a reproductive thing.

I had very little memory of any of those events. I just kept waking before being taken or after I was returned, my entire body vibrating violently. But I did have a few impressions of what it was about. A deep knowledge that I didn’t recall learning. I’m always skeptical of these feelings and thoughts because I do have a vivid imagination and a fearful nature– the two together do not lend themselves to reassuring fantasies!

But I couldn’t shake the idea that last year was our last “semi-normal” year. Like– EVER.

And I was sad. I mourned for the world that is going away soon. Things we’ve learned to mostly count on will vanish. And society will be ripped apart by it– with the solutions often more damaging than the initial harms. So many things I never got to do, and would never do. Being chronically ill most of life means getting comfortable with giving up many dreams– but I was so scared and sad! The fear would overwhelm me as much as the suicidal thoughts. I careened from panic attack to deep depression. I needed help and I sought some because I know myself.

Between therapy, a support group, medication, and Cat’s finally pulling back her negative talk– I managed to be mostly okay again. I decided to continue medication through the winter because of what I came to realize: Things are going to get a hell of a lot worse soon.

I’ve been a practicing pagan since I was sixteen. And one odd bright spot came up in the midst of the misery– contact with Norse gods? I mean, Njord for a while, but then last year Thor (and okay I know this sounds SO nuts) and it was like they were preparing for Ragnorak! I wasn’t looking for it, and neither were my friends, but weird things happened to them too.

So, last winter and early spring, the aliens were scrambling and preparing, and I think they told me shit was going down in 2025. Then summer comes along and the Norse gods are telling me very specific things, like after Trump survived the assassination attempt that he would be the next POTUS. The message was really clear though and difficult to disbelieve, despite the messengers: It’s the beginning of the end (of an era.)

So here we are at the beginning of 2025, and I’m looking at the future stretching in front of me and it’s beyond daunting. I know much of what I say sounds crazy, and yet I’m 100% certain that it’s true. I don’t want it to be. I can’t stop it. I’ve been told about it and prepared for it my entire life and now, when I’m sick and in my mid-50s, I have this shit to contend with and quite frankly, I don’t wanna! Aside from the big picture issues, how am I going to survive without Medicaid and SNAP? Prices, as bad as they’ve been since the pandemic, are about to explode in a few months. How do I get from each day to the next? How do the people I care about make it? How do we all stay sane as our world goes crazy?

I don’t know. We’re not as flush as we were before the pandemic, when Cat could afford to only have one roommate. Now she needs two roomies to make her bills, and if taxes or home owners insurance get much worse–? It’ll be three… and she’s not an easy person to live with!

I guess I’m about to find out. I’m cherishing this little time of peace and stability while I still can. It won’t be for long.

Source: https://lucretiasheart.livejournal.com/1719556.html