The Rapids

There is a part of me that is a little terrified right now.

It's bound to happen when you lose control.

I suddenly remember that I asked God to break me ( I was referring to emotional healing so I could “get on with it”). I knew what I was asking, but maybe I was taunting God versus really asking to be broken.

It was maybe a week later the dizziness started. Then I completely passed out.

I felt myself go, and I was comfortable with going, like I was dying. I was comforted for a moment thinking if this is what death was like, it's nice.

I sat on the floor, hearing my husband's voice in the distance. His voice became my way back here.

I don't know what would have happened if he wasn't here. The stone counter was right behind me… stone doesn’t give when someone’s head is coming at it.

The daily dizzy spells began immediately accompanied by nausea.

My Dr was informed. A heart monitor ordered and applied. However, there is rarely evidence of a busted up heart.

I don't like to let myself see it. I doubt technology will see it.

But I pressed on like I always do. What I didn’t realize was that I was about to be stopped dead in my tracks.

I was visiting the horses that day. Both the big boys were up in my business, and I didn't understand why, when they have an entire arena to let loose in. Instead, they stood inches from my face the entire time. They only criss-crossed in front of us humans. Eye contact with a horse hits you differently.

Maybe they sensed what was coming.

And then, a few hours later, I felt it.  The intense dizziness and the blurring of time. The picture turning black again.

My husband sat next to me on the bed as I felt myself go. I don't remember what happened, I only remember the feeling of leaving.

I wasn't scared.

My speech was slurred. My gestures slow. I struggled to stay in the room on the bed my body lay upon.

But again, his voice brought me back.

These episodes exhaust me for days after.

I woke up the next morning, scared. I set up an appointment with another doctor because mine was booked out an entire month (cuz she’s amazing), but they called and told me there was “nothing more they could do”.

The rage surged.

I'm a nurse and there was something more to do.  Listening. Just fucking listen. I hung up on the poor nurse who simply was the messenger (not my finest moment).

The bullshit narrative kicked in… Once again, I'm too much for someone to deal with.

I recognize this version of myself that surfaces.  She has her own name.  She protects what needs it... fiercely. However, her power is so strong, it's destabilizing. Sometimes I actually fear her.

She doesn't go away easily. She has claws.

She came into existence because no one protected the child.

A memory surfaced of my last visit at the farm.

The horses. I was trying to protect a new girl becasue they were crowding us, and I didn't know why. But stupid me, those horses may have been protecting me, and I didn't understand it. They weren't using anger to show protection, they were using presence.

Just when I thought I was getting better, I'm hammered again. I'm laying in my bed in the night and panic strikes. Born out of the rumination in my head over the anger, the not being heard, the people talking shit behind my back and knowing it's happening (oh this is when it's REALLY fun to be a psychic), the narrative I was running in my head... the feeling of, once again, someone perceiving I'm too much for them. I'm too intense... to emotional. The not feeling heard. The feeling that this medical system needs a fucking enema and I would love to be the one to give it to them.

Oh, that shit spun up like a whirling dervish.

My heart raced, I was hyperventilating.  I was rolling around in my bed like an idiot. The tears fell like little rivers. I didn't know what else to do, so I began to pray.  I prayed to God. I prayed to Source.  I prayed to Jesus.  I prayed to anything and everything to take this pain away. And then I finally drifted off to sleep.

I woke up early feeling pretty good until my husband left. Panic set in again. The tears wouldn't stop. I felt like a fucking idiot and got angry at myself for not being able to control my own body or emotions. So, I prayed some more.

I got ready for work and went in extra early to paint my upcoming new office, as that always calms my soul. All was good... until I sat down to prepare for clients yesterday.

The tears came again. Panic crept up again. The fear damn near paralyzed me because I didn't have control.  My husband couldn't be there, so there was no voice to follow back here if I passed out. I was texting a friend, so I asked her to help.  I'm blessed in the respect that so many of my friends are healers (Ryan, Steph, Beth, Leslie). My client was 10 min away and I'm desperate to get my shit together so she wouldn't know what was happening.

And suddenly, it was gone. No tears. No anxiety. No anger.

All there was, was God and the Spirits... and my husband who prayed for me. My friends who did energy healing so I could function.

I got through my day and clients were none the wiser to what went down just a few hours earlier.

I came home and was able to feel ok for the first time in weeks. The dizziness wasn't paralyzing me and I wasn't crying.

I'm still scared.

Scared of the pain in there.

Scared of the lack of control I have over my tears and my body right now.

But I feel the wise one within. The one that says "Enough fucking around, now is the time". It’s like having a parent get up your ass and you know they are right, but you just don't want to do it.

Maybe some of you are struggling emotionally too. These energies are literally priming the "feelings" pump, and it isn't gentle.

It's easy to think we are doing the work. Trust me... that's my M.O. But how much of what we are doing is diversion? How much of it is meaningless busy-work to keep yourself from really being in your feelings? I'm not saying that it's easy. But I am learning (the hard way) that we have to. It finds a way to get you.

I’m being forced by a higher power to confront my anger, my control issues, my grief.

I’m being forced to give up my addictions (shopping and food) and this is why I am a walking disaster at the moment… because I am not numbing my feelings.

I’m being forced to take responsibility for what lies within, and frankly, I am scared shitless.

I'm living the hell of it as we speak.

I just want you to know you aren't alone in this.... even the best of us can get pulled into the rapids and bounced off sharp rocks.

Maybe we need some cool band-aides for the scrapes along the way.

I dedicate this to my heart's family...

my husband, Beth, Leslie, Ryan and Steph

With Love,

Becky Costello, Psychic Medium

www.rebeccacostello.com