Wednesday, 1 March 2017

My latest incarnation: Rebel of the 80's

I don't remember how long time ago I unlocked some memories from this life, but they are the most vivid ones I've had of any of my past lives.

I was born in United States in an urban, probably big city to a white couple, who divorced when I was young. I was left alone with my mother. I've met two people in this life who remind me a lot of this past life mother. She loved smoking cigarettes and drinking alcohol beverages, polishing her nails, gossiping and not caring too much about being the mother to me I needed. Also I believe my mother wasn't very intelligent. My father left my mother completely alone with me, so I didn't really see him when I grew older. When it was time to plan getting to a proper school after primary school, we went to see the headmaster of this one place I think me and especially my mother liked. What he did was to laugh at us-- laugh at me. I would never get in. We were poor and my grades weren't that amazing. He pointed out we were in a status that would promise no good luck in life. I had no future, really. 

As a result, I thought it wasn't useful being in school. I got friends who were "little criminals". I got into smoking (not sure about this, but probably), drinking and I think I tried some drugs too sometimes. I skipped so many classes I think I was most of the time elsewhere but school. 

In that life I was short. I had dark hair and a fit body. I used a lot of jeans and tank tops. I also got myself a leather jacket type of thing. Not sure if it was real leather though. 

I got myself a long term boyfriend who I broke up with many times. I remember he had long dark hair, a black leather jacket, almost always a pair of combat boots and he listened to rock music. We were both quite stubborn and fiery, but also very passionate. I became very much like him in certain aspects. 

I think that at first I tried at the school I was in. But then I stopped caring. It had been a real turning point when the other school's principal laughed at me and my mother... 

My mom's and my rental flat was placed in a building that was shaped similarly to the famous Flatiron Building in New York, but it had only two or three floors I think. Downstairs there was a tobacco store. The store's keeper who was part Indian was my mom's friend, but he really hated me. I remember seeing them chatting with each other so many times together both leaned over the same desk. I felt they both hated and repelled me from there just with their mean glances over me. I thought they could've just gotten a room together. They seemed to fit well enough with each other at least and enjoyed each other's company. 

Our apartment was more or less dirty. It had two small bedrooms, a living room of the same size and an open small kitchen combined with it. We had a cat whose caring we both argued about and quite roughly we did. At least sometimes I called that cat "Snuggles" (that name JUST came in my mind out of the blue). I think he had long hair and was white-ish in color. What really disgusted me was our refrigerator. It probably used to be white when it was bought, but now it was all yellow and sticky from the outside (I learnt after describing this to my friend that this is what happens when one smokes inside a lot, all surfaces get like that). We had very difficult fights with my mother, so I ended up leaving / running away from home. She disliked heavily my friends and my boyfriend, but it was easy to choose them over her. They seemed to care about me more than my mom. I spent more time at my friends' apartments and homes and I think there were a few nights I lived on the streets with no real shelter, hiding away from strangers who could harm me. 

I speculate by intuition that I got into Christianity around these times. I really wanted to help and be kind for those less fortunate but me. Living on the streets, using all their belongings to just buy some drugs. I tried to find my best ways to help them if I could. I really pitied their destinies. The cops on the other hand I feared and hated. But mostly, it was fear. They were so skeptic about my kind that they would try to catch us even if we hadn't done anything wrong. I have a strong feeling they did bad things to us, like hitting with batons at times with no real reason, not to mention name-calling type of speech and intimidating in various ways.

One night when I had broken up again with my boyfriend, I was spending an evening "partying" or just generally "out". Anyway, I met a man probably slightly older than me. Somehow he became very very quickly my new boyfriend. He seemed slightly eccentric, but was very kind and sympathetic and offered me right away a place to stay after he heard I had no place to go. This was a mistake. 

I didn't realize this man had Asperger's, which influenced his thoughts and actions. I remember myself sitting at a table in the kitchen area and there was a morning paper nearby, me doing something more or less practical and mundane. It was one of the first days at his place, maybe even the first one. I cared for him, but I knew I wouldn't love him. It was already clear for me we wouldn't ever get married, so I felt a little guilty. What I really needed from him was the shelter of his apartment and maybe some things like food etc. He seemed very excited about our situation and it was obvious for him that now was the time and place to have sex for the first time. For me it neither wasn't and was at the same time. I wasn't really sure if I really cared for sex at that moment with him, but thought that whatever. I wanted to keep that apartment for a while at least. I thought he kind of maybe deserved it and I sensed unconsciously he had a bad temper, even a shorter one than my ex had and in a weird way.

 Then he removed his clothing and climbed into his bed naked which was a loft bed. I was slowly ending my doings, whatever they were. When I wasn't removing my clothes right away and rushing, he said in an icy/irritated tone "Yeah, you know, I'm waiting..." I climb on his body still my clothes on and start to strip my shirt off. At the same time I ask if he has a condom. It appears he has none. Suddenly he suggests we should have a baby. I get frustrated, he sounds sad and we almost start a fight. I state I won't have sex with him unless he has a condom. I leave the apartment to search for one, but all I have in mind is to ask if the neighbors had any, I know none of them well enough. It starts to feel like a bad idea and I start to pity my "boyfriend". I really didn't want to fight with him. I deny myself of thinking about baby-making, I return to the apartment. I tell him "Ok, let's fuck".

My next memory is from couple of days later. We've had sex a couple of times. For the second time I had a condom from somewhere. I'm panicking in my mind if I had become pregnant. I didn't want to have a baby yet and not with him. I'm going through all options of emergency contraceptives in my head. At this point this boyfriend is all excited about getting a baby. I'm getting less and less interested about the shitstorm it would raise if I got myself an abort. The guy is kissing my belly and talking to it, when I still don't have any mound formed yet.

It becomes harder and harder to order a visit to the gynecologist and it starts to feel like an easier option just to have the baby. I believe all of this was because of the guilt towards that boyfriend of mine and the fact that I was using him to my advantage. This boyfriend was also the stalker type slightly... I could feel it.

A tad later (in this life) I had a vision of what happened between my death and the pregnancy. I left this boyfriend, but he kept disturbing my life in different ways. I returned to my on-off-boyfriend and at least was in friendly relations with him. When he discovered all of what had happened to me, he was furious! When he met the guy who had gotten me pregnant, he hit him and kicked him with his iron toed combat boots to the stomach. I was there. I tried to persuade him to leave it be and tried to confirm that the man didn't deserve it. I was really terrified about it. 

The last scene I remember from this life is me being again together with this on-off-boyfriend. We are having a terrible fight in a parking house. He's drunk and very aggressive. We are repeatedly hitting each other or touching each other violently. Last thing I remember is him pushing me. I loose my balance and I feel myself falling. I hit my head really bad on the ground. I see an ambulance. I die probably on my way to the hospital. That's the last thing I'm shown of these memories recorded.

This life I've acknowledged for a while already has lately come up to my mind more often. It has offered me explanations to a few childhood/youth memories from this life. When I was real young, about 9 years old, I started to write a book. I remember there were two gangs. The others were called "The rats" and they bullied the other gang, who were merely a group of friends. I really desperately wish I could some day find this start of book at some point and reread what I wrote. I remember it was very well written for a girl of that age! I have a feeling it described my past life around the 80's. My second memory comes from time I was 13. I had had an on-off crush for the cutest boy in my class. He had these brown eyes that were always my downfall. But he had a blond hair, not dark. He treated me unfairly and one time he hit me really bad on the back, bullied me too. Such things made me really prejudiced about him. Even though his style was nothing like it, one day I expressed my frustration: "So don't you want to listen to rock music, smoke cigarettes, wear leather coats and drink heavy?" The boy I had a crush on was nothing like it, really, but all of a sudden I had that image about him. I don't know why, but I thought it was a bad thing doing all that. Sinful even. That description would've fit my past life boyfriend. The third one is not a memory really. I had a manner to put my school pack or my jacket or about anything laying on my lap so it would  lean to my stomach when sitting. It made me feel safe and comfortable. People sometimes asked me why I did it. I hadn't realized it was that weird. Now I think I know the answer to this. It was not only because I thought that in this life my belly was fat. My past life self still wanted to cover in school that she was pregnant, even though in this life I haven't been pregnant or anything close to it. 

I also have a dream with hazy things that would really strongly refer to this past life. In the same dream I was doing something at the doctor for a "sister" (I had no sister!) The doctor was dark skinned, handsome and aged +40. He gave a coloring book to me so I would give it to my "sister". He had a feeling I might not give it or remember to give it, so he wrote my sisters name on the cover (which I don't remember). Also my mother had discovered the doctor was related to Michael Jordan and a "famous violinist" and she was really hunting him to be a husband debutante. For that reason I called him something similar to "doctor pal" not "sir" or "doctor" which created a very icy and awkward atmosphere. That wasn't my intention. I sounded rude. He kind of disliked me and felt uncomfortable around me, I could tell. Later in the dream there was an audition for a Broadway type of a Grease (in my current life I haven't really cared for Grease at all) prequel or something. It was a new version of it anyway on stage. Most of the main characters were placed with dark skinned actors which in the dream thought was slightly weird. Also I was in a big store or a mall. An older light haired man stole or bought me secretly tobaccos and I was grateful but I didn't know why he was so kind to me. I also laughed at a department of Christmas stuff that was really, really messy in the store.

All of this is so vivid that I'm sure I could find many more things about this past life through past life regression, which I have done none on this consciously. Most of it has come through visions, dreams and one past life tarot card reading I did on myself. Sometimes I wonder if this past life mother of mine still lives. Or that on-off-boyfriend. Anyway, I know the lesson of saying no to uncomfortable situations with romantic relationships that were created for the wrong reasons have been sorted out mostly already during this life. It gives a lot of comfort to understand why my last relationship was such a mess.

I've also noticed that dying so young and a rebel has affected this life more than I have wanted to understand at first. It comforts me to understand my past problems with school and authorities and even my peers at school had solid roots from not so long ago. I've also speculated that my memory/attention problems in this life might be linked to that pas life and also that head trauma. I'm sure I'm going to find out if it it's true. For now, I'm satisfied with discovering more about this life. I find it very interesting considering the lessons I was going through. I'm sure in that life I also was settling some of my lessons from my past life as Ned Kelly. Too many congruent aspects to ignore.

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