A crazy fun experiment. Maybe I can write fiction. The following story line is something I wrote over 2 years ago. Reading it now – I am surprised by my own creativity. I found it yesterday in my phone notes.
In September 2013, a friend of mine and I decided to write a story together. I’d write something and then she would write the next part, etc. See what you think of my writing…. ?
Getting Released Today – The Saga Continues
I can only mange to stay awake these days for a few hours – I guess my accident has taken its toll on me. Despite my condition, they apparently have another body that they want to move into my bed so they are planning to ship me out this afternoon to another hospital or rehab facility. Hmm I wonder what that means in London.?
I am so freaked out – when I go to sleep what happens is that I seem to be dreaming about my recent life. I don’t know maybe I am not really sleeping but just getting my memory back. I am not ready to go back there – I have things I want to do and so now I am thinking that I should not admit to anyone that I am starting to remember who I am or who I most recently was.
It is like I am now my real true spirit and I don’t want to go back into my old body and my old life. I know now that I left for a group trip I was suppose to go on with my husband for a month to Europe – two months early. Something or someone compelled me to think that all I needed was to leave my oppressive life for 90 days to find my real self.
My instincts are telling me that maybe I should trust my gut and try and contact Roxanne – a shrink I had just started to see in Maine. I liked her sense of humor and apparent insights she seems to have in helping others find their purpose in life. . I think the cheerleading image that came to me in my dream/half wake stupor was her persona of what she wanted to become herself. God I am sounding so wacko now even to myself. Am I perhaps just losing my mind? Is this some sort of escape from an early onset of Alzheimer’s?
I know this sounds crazy but I am going to call Roxanne and ask her if she can keep it confident that I contacted her and not let anyone know that I had this accident nor tell them where I am. I also don’t want her to tell anyone here in England that I have in fact started to get my memory back. If I could have a Skype call with her perhaps she could help me sort a few things out.
Two Days Later
I don’t know what to do. I have not heard back from Dr. “Foxie ‘Roxie’ as I now like calling her. My Catholic upbringing is causing me to feel massively guilty since my memory is now what I might describe as ‘just as crystal clear as that one and only time I saw a glacier in Alaska.’ My prior life and all of its mundane commitments are like a truth angel sitting on my right shoulder saying, do the right thing, call your husband and head back to Maine.
While, the devilish imp inside of me, is very convincingly sitting on my left shoulder blade, saying, “You did it. You escaped. Take the next 90 days and start living the first day of the rest of your life. Your life was a real snoozer. I think you might be gay – you need to find out.
See what happens- chase that fire inside your belly. Go find your Spirit in the gap. Be selfish now so that you can find your real true purpose in life. Who am I? What is my purpose in life? Who the hell is asking me those questions? Was that psychic right – am I really here to help someone I knew in a prior life help thousands of people recognize that they are a part of God themselves?
Right now, I am making myself giggle like a little girl being tickled. I hope this is all good and I am not losing my mind.
Okay – I’m not going back to Maine yet. Tomorrow I am going to hop on a train and head over to Portugal. Last time I was there – I felt such an attachment to the people, the food, the smiles, the beauty. I wonder how you would say Namaste in Portuguese?