Chronicles of the Workings of the Real Fae, part 1, Not Pretty

~ all of these Chronicles were written on the same day in the first week of February which I have broken up into parts I'm slowly publishing here. There are dates added to the later asterick* notes because this is the part I am chronicling as they happen.


I think this is not for publication but it is a story I must chronicle for myself, which is why I started this blog to begin with. This blog is about the Fairy Cottage and Gardens.....this is about that.

I have decided to publish this in parts as it seems there is a story unfolding here. This is part one. Please excuse the unpleasantness.....but it is a critical part of this "story".

This was written on Wednesday the 19th, hence references to the day before Tuesday and Monday.

Right now I am tired, very tired, physically, but my spirit has experienced a sign of True Life as of yesterday, Tuesday the 18th. This will be a very very long story.

*astericks will be where I remember something to insert, something important.

The Problems and Back Story:

For years now, I felt I have lost something vital to myself, my soul or spirit, not sure which, but something critical was missing. I've been a lump of biology moving about with no signs of my previous connections, to divinity, to my true people, to the limitless gossamer threads of life that reach very far out into the deep cosmos, to everything and anything. I always felt divinely connected.

I guess through a series of events, people and traumas, gossamer threads were broken, I got into "beliefs"then pummeled by reality, all of which resulted in an attenuated spirit, stretched too thin, not enough life force to synthesize to these realities here and too thin to spread even over myself.

There was the situation with the planes doing flyovers around the Pembroke house all day whose noise nearly, very too nearly drove me insane. I was, after 5 years of living on the edge of sanity, finally offered an opportunity to move out and took it believing I got my groove back and things were returning to the way they should be with me in control of my life. I went from the pan into the fire, or from really bad to horrid. I nearly died. I was very very sick, more sick than I even knew. I found myself living with the paranormal in full onslaught. I have spent the past two summers in this new house sleeping, recovering and not doing anything.
 This "not doing anything" has rocked my world as I never ever thought that was a good thing, for me it wasn't. I firmly believed in being busy, keeping moving, could be my New York indoctrination, but it is still hard to shake, though I've recently gotten very very good at doing nothing. My mind reels from it, but my body and spirit are so very fine with it indeed!
So sleeping during the night as best as one could getting up 5 times every night, and sleeping in betwixt that was the life. Then getting up in the morning doing one or two things and being so exhausted I was back in bed often by 11am, not to get up again. I then got into a routine of being in my room in bed by 3pm cause that is the time around my housemate gets home, and I'd rather not see him since he has totally reverted back to his 100% passive aggressive behavior with 0 percent interest in anything or anyone, and that is always very hard to stomach....so I hide from him. However being in bed by that time began a routine that began settling my body and my body liked it. Apparently I needed it in more ways than I can think. Luckily I have a kindle that I use to keep my mind busy. I've begun to watch series online, and that has kept my mind zoned out, not thinking at all which is what I finally needed also because thinking about my life, what I went through and what I could do about it resulted in nil and that nil was not acceptable to a mind that believes I can do anything.....but with the kindle and browsing leisurely for the first time ever in my life began to totally relax the body and mind, so that NOT thinking did not disturb whatever peace and healing was taking place in this new "doing nothing" routine. It has been the only way to begin to heal in my case.
And more than year of this and I am still slowly healing.

I am also still trying to take stock of just what damage has incurred, but that is way too much information and I'm sure I will never know all of it. I however did feel the sickness of it very thoroughly at all times, relentlessly......cruelly, in such a way that I was totally angry that I was still alive to feel it all. NO one should live through such agony and pain 24/7 and live. NO one.

On top of that, the only true joy in life which is gardening, I could not do in this new house/land because the year I moved here in 2018 May, we had nothing but flooding which killed whatever I had planted. A local farmer told me we had more rain than in the topical rains forests of the amazon that year. The next year we had drought.....no rainy season at all....and we're supposed to have a rainy season here in the sub tropics of Florida. Soooo this year I am wondering what will happen. But I was so depressed about not being able to garden, I had recently come to the decision that I would not garden, not buy any plants and just leave this land and this house as I didn't want to live with this peculiar person anyway, he was so dead inside, a virtual zombie and I still can't tolerate this even after 20 years. This decision not to garden though made my soul sick. But I was not about to continue the futility of the plantings I had been doing when more than half of everything died. I have never experienced this kind of bad luck in gardening ever....not even in New York. Its been truly depressing. But it is also not normal that so much dies, when I have green thumbs and my love for my plants is palpable, so when they die, it hits me in the gut.

And on top of that topping, was that my creativity was down to nil. I had no creativity whatsoever and that feels like death to an artist. I am an artist of sorts, no particular medium, I just love to create what I envision and make things myself. I often refer to my life as My Hand Made Life......but I could create nothing. I could not do even small projects, nor come up with ideas for simple things.

I wanted to do calligraphy again, and got all the items I needed and was excited to begin doing it the right way, then hurricane Dorian came and went and that threat took the juice out of me again, as I've lived through hurricane damage and will never forget....so even a threat comes and I relive it. I lost all desire to create. I had many projects from macrame to sewing clothes, but could do none of them. It wasn't just that I wasn't in the mood, I can indulge that because it only lasts a day or several, but this was going on for months. I'd walk into my craft room look at everything pending my energy and walk out and go to bed. This frustrated me as I did not understand it. It felt like something was terribly wrong, like I was not here, only a body was walking around, like a ghost in my own skin.

Too much to say.