A Master planned life

I have lived a surreal life. It is one so far outside of anyone's typical frame of reference save for those few fully initiated into the bizarre world of the mentally ill. 

Although, I spent many years bemoaning my unfortunate fate; with self-pity a common companion, I am now completely convinced that it all was for a specific reason. A reason so far beyond what I ever imagined. And that my life was designed precisely as it has been by the Master himself for reasons that have become increasingly clear.

My higher destiny purpose is to be used to create positive change for others. I am finding that as I release more of my authentic self without holding back, I discover in my saga what I learned from each incident, the various systemic dynamics, meaning family dysfunctions and environmental circumstances that were far from ideal. My clarity in respect to my own story is flowing through me with heightened, self-insight like I have never before experienced. It is a divine inspired madness as described by Socrates.

I am sane and rational; but possessed. I am a vehicle of transmission. A channel, if you will, to help an oppressed group of people without a voice or a champion; a group still in the proverbial “closet” and very afraid to come out.  If this all sounds strange, I wish upon you a spiritual experience some day.  

Personally, if I written my script it would have been less painful, fewer trials and tribulations, more pleasures and joys. But, that is not how it works and in retrospect maybe this one was just fine because it seems my destiny. As well it seems to be getting better all the time. Most importantly, today I realize that my life is not about me. It is about what I can do to be of service to a larger purpose. I have something to benefit others.  Something that is especially important now as a type of genocide is taking place with cut backs in mental health services at an alarming high.  The time has come and I am ready to tell my story.

A few times it seemed as if a big camera, somewhere in the sky was filming it all. Stage and equipment set just right for me. For example, consider...how does one psychotic woman steal a red, Alfa Romeo convertible 2 times, 2 different cars off from the Otto Zipper Alfa Romeo sales lot in Santa Monica? Then I kept one of them for a month.

The stage was set. The first time I went in asked to test drive, "that red one out there" as if I was a potential buyer. The salesperson handed me the keys and I did not take it back.

I took the car to my apartment. Took the license plate from my roommates car for the brand new Alfa with no plates. I packed a bag with clothes. Stopped at a gas station filled the tank and had no money but gave them jewelry as payment and headed up the Pacific Coast Highway in California.

Along the way I picked up two hitchhikers and after drinking Tequila from a bota bag with them got pulled over. When I stepped out of the Alfa there were 10 rifles pointed at me.

Why did I do that? I thought I was my step-sister Sue. I wanted to be like her. She was everything that I was not but hoped to be. In my troubled mind, with thought disordered thinking from Bipolar I disorder and alcohol/drug abuse, I simply believed, that if I had a car just like the one she bought in Italy, travelled through Europe in then shipped home, that magically I would become her.

The second time, the car was right in front me as I approached the lot again months later. The same model, red, convertible Alfa Romeo Spider, with the top down this time sat right in the service area, keys in the ignition, service slip under the windshield wipers.  My command voices telling me to get in, start the ignition, back up and drive away. I did.

I am convinced, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that my life was Master planned to tell my story.  It all seems so evident now.  

The shame felt when you have a mental health disorder is silencing. I intend to speak. Again, there has never been a more perfect time.  I am ready.