The Dream Diaries: Men are Healing

The Dream Diaries- The one where we were crackheads

At the beginning of mercury retrograde I got a message to stop smoking weed so that I could get some psychic stability back. I was told that I was about to receive some strong messages in my dreams, the way I used to before I got a little lost.

I’ve spoken about my dreams before, I always pay attention to them but I only share them when I feel like they have a really strong, prophetic message.

So I stopped smoking weed, and the dreams kicked off. I’ve dreamt every single night and in the morning I’ve woken up and written them down, researched what they meant- and they’ve actually helped me to heal a lot of subconscious issues I had that was resulting in poor mental health.

Like dreaming of sunburn- that meant I felt overexposed to a situation that I was once too optimistic about. Dreaming of rotten teeth, meaning I had to embrace saying ‘goodbye’ for good. A dream of peeling off a tattoo, meaning I was becoming a new person and wanted to be noticed for it. Dreaming about guinea pigs, being in a submarine, so many cool things.

I also predicted some weird stuff about other people- like a boy from school who was about to embark on a new ‘quest’ in life. I messaged him and he was like ‘woah you’re the third “witch” to say that in two weeks’.

Love being called a witch. I was one in a past life, I’ve seen it in a dream.  

Anyways back to the point.

I’m still having these dreams, but they seem a little bit more literal than symbolic now.

As I’ve been listening to more talks and I’ve been focussed on my subconscious more, I’ve been having past lives come up in my dreams so that I can find the storyline and share them.

I think it’s because the ‘theme’ of that lifetime is prominent in society now, and it’s about to change.

The night before last, I had a dream that I went to Derry on my own to go and stay with my old friend. An unshakable friend who I think I’ve known in another lifetime.

It was probably the 1940’s, it was pretty glum.

I’ve never actually been to Derry, I’m supposed to go for the first time in May. I was walking around by myself and there were several pubs on the street with some chips in the paint and some half dead but kinda pretty flowers outside. I went into one pub that was all green and very old looking. I spotted my friend at the bar and walked up to her. We hugged and we were so happy to be reunited.

We sat down, and all of a sudden the conversation got on the topic of me being a jew.

People around us heard.

The people behind us weren’t happy about it, and they started heckling me. Then everybody around us caught on and began to do the same. I woke up when I was surrounded by people insulting me, throwing things at me, screaming at me for being a jew.

I’m not even jewish.

I felt more like a boy in that life.

That was a really stand out dream, especially because of how real and literal the concept was.

So I went about my day, thought about it a lot, and when the time came I went back to sleep and dreamt again.

In this dream, I was in an abusive relationship. It was sunny out, there was luscious green grass, I was around 20-30 years old and I had dusty blonde hair that was all curly and in a bun- like how Helena Bonham Carter often has it. It may have been the 1800s, but everything felt modern. I’m going off how it felt as opposed to how it looked. I wore a dress. It looked like it could have been from the late 1800s. It was floral, and long, and it wasn’t fitted but it suited me. I was stunning.

My partner was a drug addict. He was angry. He was really abusive and he had a son. So one day I took the son and I ran. He was about 10-12. I wanted to save him. The guy wasn’t much of a threat, he wouldn’t have followed me because he didn’t care enough. He wanted rid of me.

So I was raising this boy and I wanted to give him a better life, but I was so hurt and traumatised by this man that I struggled to keep a lid on it and I had no idea what I was doing. The boy was always very quiet. I was young.

I met a man, he was wonderful. He had a kind soul, he was caring, he was fatherly to the boy, and he loved me. He was amazing. We got together and were so in love, but I was carrying the trauma from my last relationship. I got with him because he seemed like a stable figure for my son, somebody who could prop me up and have me act right. That’s too much pressure for anybody. The problem was in me, though. I couldn’t see it at the time I just felt lost.

So like the partner before him, I started doing drugs to try and numb it. It was a secret at first, nothing too heavy. Then it was noticeable that I was acting different. I didn’t care about things anymore, my presentation became scruffier, my clothes got dirtier, my eyes were visibly heavier all the time. My hair was never as well kept as it used to be. My partner found out, and he was so forgiving. He didn’t try to change me, he just let me be, and he loved me. He didn’t like me doing it, but he wanted to be with me anyway.

I kept doing drugs. The boy (who I saw as a son) become a less prominent figure in my life and I began forgetting where he was from moment to moment. I was floating in my own bubble and my partner drifted in and out with me. I got onto heroin, and my partner began doing it with me.

He was so beautiful, and compassionate, until he wasn’t. He began acting different too. He never raised a hand to me, which to me was all I could ask for in a person. I felt ashamed that I had brought him down this path but every time I felt shame I would drown it out with drugs. He became more irritable, and angry, and frustrated. His truth came out, it must have been the drugs. He ended up going to prison for misconduct. While he was in there, he cheated on me (with a woman). I never found out in the lifetime, but I don’t think I would have cared. I was too busy floating.

He didn’t cheat on me because of lust or love, but rather because it was something to do. He didn’t care about it, but he wished that I would care about it.

He got out, and in the final moments of my dream we were laid down in a park cuddling. It was sunny out. I had no idea where my son was, we were dirty, and on something. We were kissing with no real emotion. We pulled away and I looked at him and said ‘you used to be so nice once’ and he said ‘so did you. But I have to raise a kid that isn’t mine’. That’s always something that haunted him and I was always sorry for him that I didn’t want to have his children. We weren’t in a place to. The boy was about 13-14 at this point.

That was all I saw, but I get the feeling we died together prematurely due to the drugs.

I woke up, and I was fascinated.

I immediately had to decipher what this meant.

On a personal level, I sussed it.

On a collective level, I’m wrapping my head around it.


The next two years are going to be kicking off a new chapter of ‘healing of the masculine’.

I was a woman who had been hurt by a man.

The abusive partner symbolises an old masculine template. He has his own reasons for being that way, but the old toxic masculine template is one that is ignorant, overbearing, aggressive, unsupportive.

I was young and insecure and I didn’t know my worth, so I took on that energy.

I started off as the template of a healed feminine energy. Loving, nurturing, sensitive and kind but he made me question myself so much that I became like him. Unstable, unsupportive, absent. Unable to receive kindness.

Then, the man I needed came into my life.

The healed masculine. He was confident, strong, capable, and responsible. He was there for me.

But because of what I had become, he lost his place in the world, and he became the toxic masculine.

In society, women have been wounded. We have been wounded beyond belief and for the most part, the way we have learned/ been taught to cope with it is by going the other way.

Insisting that you don’t need men, struggling with an iron fist and a wall of pride. Taking on every task, wanting to be recognised but then not allowing ourselves to be recognised.

When we insist that we don’t ‘need’ a man, there’s no place for a ‘man’ (to our standards) in our life. Really, we do want a man, but the issue is within us. We have been taught that all men are like that, we’ve been taught that we’re unlovable, we’ve been taught that we’re better off alone.

So when we finally think ‘lets give this a go’- we attract boys. These are men who don’t know what their role in society is anymore, so they’re just like a leech on us. Treating us like crap, letting us do all the work, generally not doing anything and being a burden.

Either that or they go the other way, insistent that women are hysterical and not to be listened to. Being misogynists, basically.

We attract them because they fit into our lives.

Then we’re frustrated and confused wondering where all the ‘good’ men went.

Men are wonderful, not all men are the same- we have to heal the wound inside of us that would rather struggle than open up to the idea that they’re not all bad.

So back to the point of what’s going on this next two years.

Women have been going through a mass awakening, and now a lot of us are woke- it’s the men’s turn.

Men have been hurt so badly.

Men have been hurt by other men and by us.

Men have been shaped into a certain character, men have been emotionally and affectionately repressed, their identity has been toyed with, and god forbid you be expressive.

That’s just by other men.

They’ve also been rejected and confused by us women. It’s a two way street. We can’t just hate on men without realising that we work together.

This next few years notice a rise in this being a big theme in society. Men being called out for taking the piss out of girls as an excuse to express their femininity. Men wanting to do better and support women and only just discovering how to do that. Men realising how you can be protective without being dominant, and working on becoming secure so their actions aren’t quite so damaging.

Women are also coming into a place of forgiveness. Learning how we can work together. Working on forgiving ourselves as well as the opposite gender. Working on the fear of men we might have developed over time.

To work on your fear of men, start from this life and work your way back. Somewhere along the line of your past lives you will have been a man and you will have gone through something traumatic that created a pattern in your lineage. That is why you have bad relationships with men.

That’s what I can make of it so far.

I love my dreams.

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