My spirit guides are talking! They've been nudging me toward writing more about my personal journey in Wicca and the challenges that I have faced in life. I have had many. If it were not for Wicca and my spirituality I would not be alive and my doctors can confirm that. My cardiologist does not know how I'm living right now nor does she know how I can stand up if even for a few seconds.
I'll start with telling you the most recent challenge. I was in the hospital for 2 months. It started with an absces that I had and I'm not trying to be gross or give away too much private information, but I need to give you some of it so you can understand the struggle. It was located on my right butt cheek. I had to have surgery three different times and I've almost lost my whole butt cheek, but it is growing back. I have a huge, deep, open wound where you can see my muscles that has extended to almost the whole right rear area. I got it back in April and went to the emergency room on April 24th, 2023, I think it's the right date or somewhere around there. It is now September and I still have the wound but it is healing very well. I'm having to have a nurse come three times a week to pack it and change it for me because there's no way that I can see it or reach it myself. During the surgeries I almost bled to death. I became anemic because of it. They were forced to finally get my blood type and give me one of those wristbands - just in case.
I was immediately put in ICU after I come into the emergency room. They didn't think I was going to make it. My infection wey septic and I had diabetic ketoacidosis. I was almost dead when I got to the hospital. I stayed in ICU well over a week. After a month to trying to recover from this horrible wound, I came home for one or two days and could not do anything for myself.
I ended up having to go back to the hospital. Once I was in the ER there I was immediately readmitted to the hospital again. After a week or so in there I started having convulsions. They were not sure where they were coming from it first but now we know that I was bleeding internally in my intestines. I also had something that was undiagnosed called orthostatic hypotension, where my blood pressure was changing and dropping dramatically every time I laid down, sat up, or stood up. I was passing out! At one point I was sitting in my hospital room watching TV and I passed out sitting up. When I started convulsing they worked with me for I don't know how long because I was unconscious, but when I became fully aware I was back in the ICU where I stayed for a little over a week again. The second hospital stay made it around 2 months total counting the time I was in there before the 2 days I came home.
I'm permanently in a wheelchair now and this was just my last round of extreme challenges that I have overcome. During all of this I am the caretaker of my 91 year old father who is a very sick man right now as I write this. He, himself, was in ICU as well for a week. Then he was in the hospital in a normal room and now he's in temporary rehab. It's been quite an ordeal just recently!
I have learned to do most things from my wheelchair and found out that most people underestimate me. I've had adult protective services called on me because I'm in a wheelchair concerning not being able to take care of my Father which I have done since my mother died in 2011. They say I'm incapable. His doctors beg to differ. His doctor said if I haven't been doing what I've been doing he would be dead. I have taken excellent care of him yet because all some medical staff can see, who was working with him here in my home by the way, is my wheelchair. The fact is I have taken care of both him and myself from my wheelchair. Screw them, I'm crushing it! It might take me a little longer to do things than normal like a day or two but I still get it done. I had just ordered a crap load of cleaning supplies and I scrubbed the floors and did the dishes where he had dirtied up everything I had in a day's time. He is very hard to care for because he has severe dementia. But moving on to the rest of what I want to say this time.
This is not the first time that I've had to get really creative because of my severe health problems to meet normal, everyday challenges. If anybody could use magic in their life it's me! The amount of energy I have needed to hold me up and extend is enormous. I don't want it to be like that but it's just a fact. My magical practice has helped a lot in that.
The first set of challenges I started facing was a genetic defect that they found that caused me to have deep vein thrombosis and phlebotis. I also had several pulmonary embolisms along the way. I was newly married when it began, just a little over a year. I'm now divorced but that's the way it goes sometimes, I guess.
I had to learn to walk again several times. I had a lot of damage to my left leg and my lung. I got used to crutches, walkers, and wheelchairs. Not to mention bedside commodes. I was too young for that!
During the times I could not walk I was learning to walk again while I was caretaker for my very sick mother who I loved with all my heart and still do. She died in 2011 and I grieve for her everyday. I mainly feel like a failure for that because I couldn't do what she needed and she had to stay in a rehab facility until she went back in the hospital and died.
Not even two years before my mother's death my husband left me. Didn't tell me he was leaving. He waited until I was in so much pain I could not even sit up and stayed up all night, sneaked out his things, and called me the next day and told me he was gone for good. He said I could divorce him if I wanted to but he would tear me up in court. I divorced him. My health and my being a Witch was the main topic of the courtroom hearing from the divorce. That's a whole other story. He kept saying he didn't want to sick wife either and that he didn't sign up for it.
I plan on writing a more detailed account about my magical journey during all of this in the book I'm trying to write. When I get a chance I want to publish some of the Spells I did to keep myself alive and it worked.
Along the way through all of this I found out that this whole time I had been a Type 1 diabetic, which explains a lot more of the things that are happening to me. Unfortunately, I didn't find out until the last time I was in the hospital recently at age 47. I didn't know my type, that is. I didn't know I was a diabetic until my mid to late 30s.
When I was 18 I was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis and five other kinds of arthritis that goes along with it. At that time I was an active Firefighter/EMT. I was volunteer. I simply loved helping people. The blood clots came at age 22 with that diagnosis. They didn't think I was going to make it then either with my first set of clots because my leg was full and I had one in my lung or maybe several in my lung. That ended what could have been a great career. I had to be put on a powerful blood thinner and stay on it for the rest of my life.
I went through other things which were more normal like having my gallbladder removed and full teeth extractions because my medicine had messed up all of my teeth.
At age 15 I was in a wreck that knocked my spine in my neck completely straight. Now there's no curve in it.
All of my toes have been broken more than once trying to learn to walk again because of the blood clots and the damage from them. Most of the joints have fused together and I can't bend them and my balance is off on a good day.
My second to last Christmas with my mother and my last Christmas with my husband, it was horrible. My father-in-law had come over and refused to leave. My parents were waiting on us at their house and very upset. He stayed all day and we were more than 8 hours late. He actually physically blocked the door so I couldn't get out and my husband didn't do one damn thing. By the time I could get out the door with the presents the steps on my porch have frozen over and I didn't know it. I hit ice, fell down three steps, and crushed the ankle on my bad leg where I had all the blood clots. I was helped up into the truck still carrying all the presents, continued next door to my parents house. It was well after dark by now. It was our Christmas Eve tradition to open presents and have Christmas dinner. I was not going to foil it up because of this one jerk. Two jerks.
We arrived at my parent's house and I did the best I could to try to participate and bring joy. But my mother was too upset to enjoy what time I had left with her that Christmas. It was also my dad's birthday and he hated my gifts. My mother thought I didn't appreciate the trouble she had went to for me or the nice candelabra that she had got me and specifically went to a lot of trouble to get red candles for it because she was a very sick woman at that time. I never convinced her that I did appreciate it. That candelabra stayed in my kitchen and never left my sight. It meant so much to me. I would only have one more Christmas with her.
When my mother died I lost everything I owned to my dad including my home of 14 years that I had made with my husband and that he had left around 2 years before that. My dad just took it all away and gave me a corner of the house to live in, but I wouldn't have that much if it weren't for my neighbor talking him into it. I thought I was going to actually have to live on the porch that was attached to my trailer that he had pulled off with my four little Chihuahuas. It was winter when that happened. At first he was just going to take my home and all of my belongings and leave me out there. He was not going to allow me in the house. He hated me that much and I don't know why.
I had a lot of very cool sacred tools that I had collected over the years of practice in The Craft. They were very powerful objects. All of them were gone in one swoop when Mama died. I can't find another Athame like I had then. It was more like a short sword and the blade itself was a lightning bolt. The handle was black inlaid with gold trim. That particular tool was meant to be mine. I miss it so much! It was uniquely mine. I can only find one on the whole internet for sale. I can't help but wonder if that's it! The last I checked the seller wanted over $300 for it. I can't afford that.
The disability doctors said I had six major areas of concern and was disabled, and that was before the last three that I got while I was in the hospital. Yet, I still was denied disability and I have no income. While all this was happening to me I was completely dependent on those around me, including my dad.
One time I told my cousin to place crystals around her house and that's all I told her. She screamed at me and called me a witch. A few weeks later she called me at midnight and she was screaming at me, she was attempting and exorcism on me when I answered the phone! This is one reason why I have always worked so hard to educate people about Wicca. I've had some crazy stuff happen to me it should have never happened.
People wonder why I don't care what anybody thinks of me now. Well I'm beginning to tell you why. That part about me is not going to change no matter who likes it or not. I have become who I have become, and, guess what, I like me. I have also developed a strong hatred for bullies.
I will spare you what I've went through with my dad and what all he has done after my mother died and he was talked into letting me live in the corner of this house by my precious neighbor who I lovey dearly and who has passed away now.
At this point in my life most of the people who cared about me or ever loved me is dead. The people I should have simply turned their heads because they don't want to help.
Dear Readers, you should see what karma has done to some of these people that have been in my past. I'm sure I'm getting accused! But I'm not responsible. They are. Karma did get them. And that's one way I know what I believe is absolutely true. Magic is real. Karma is real. They really did get it back plus some and I didn't do a thing. That's one thing about magic, it will prove itself real. If you don't believe then it won't happen or come true.
It has been a new kind of hell dealing with my dad, even now. The latest is I have confirmed there was a bad curse put on me by one of the hospice nurses of all people. I've had that confirmed by pendulum, that candle magic, and now I have a new tarot reading that also reveals it. I pulled the card that had the literal book meaning that someone was messing with me! There's been other little signs as well.
Not only all of this, I'm still not finish going through it. There's a real possibility that I will be homeless when my dad dies. I think he left the house and land to one of his girlfriends, as a matter of fact I'm pretty sure of it. No I don't have any family that gives a damn enough to actually help me.
Oh, I almost forgot to tell you about why I'm having these abscesses so much that I almost lost my right butt cheek. I spent nearly 3 months, a whole summer, in this house without electricity and without the windows being able to open. All of my sweat glands are severely damaged. I also nearly starved to death. That was medically confirmed. During this time I had several heart attacks from not having medical care to prevent my blood clots and two heat strokes. I still couldn't get help! Not to where it would do any real good.
So, because of this and on top of everything else that's wrong with me, my sweat glands infect and swell up and cause abscesses that nearly kill me. It was unbelievably hot that summer! The only one that helped me a little bit to get out of the heat overnight or for a day or two that actually kept me alive, well he just died. That was my cousin. The one neighbor that fed me a little bit and sometimes helped me get to the store during this period I was alone without electricity, she died about three or four years ago as well. The ones who would not help me are the ones who are left alive.
So this is part 2 about my journey. Yes there's more. Not sure when I'll get it on paper. What I do know is after Mom died I had signed up with a self-publishing company and they called me one day. My dad answered the phone. He started freaking out. He came running into my room, in the corner of the house where he had put me, and frantically was asking me if I was writing a book about everything he had done and what had happened. What does that tell you?
Crap, I forgot to mention my five miscarriages!
Again.....
Merry Meet, and Merry Part, and Merry Meet again!
Blessed Be!
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