CHAPTER TWO
The Triangle Unravels

For the next six weeks, I continued to reflect on our family and all the changes I had made during the summer. Despite the fact that a lot of good things had happened in our home over the summer, I was having depressing thoughts. With Matthew and Juanita both at school all day I finally decided that I just had too much time to think on my hands and perhaps I really wasn't depressed. I had been off Prozac for four months. I tried to keep myself busy and even thought about looking for a job, but I only wanted to work while the kids were at school.

I wrote three letters to a friend all in one week. They must have sounded very depressing. I had to turn to someone for help and knew I couldn't talk to my family about the way I was feeling; after all, they didn't even know I had been on anti-depressants for four years. How could I go to anyone in my family and admit I had a big problem. I felt ashamed because I had this "mental illness" and I felt like I would be letting my parents down if they knew what was really going on. After all, on the outside, our marriage looked fine and I still wasn't sure that this was my problem in the first place. Yet, deep down inside my soul, I knew there had to be a reason for me being depressed.

Day after day slipped by. I knew something was terribly wrong. But I refused to call my doctor because she would just want me to take an anti-depressant again. That was no longer an option for me. I was determined to find out what was wrong with me. While I was taking an anti-depressant, I felt like, I was just putting off the inevitable. At some point in my life I was going to have to deal with my problems, whatever they were. Why not now since the kids were in school all day. It was now that I finally had time to focus on me.

I went to see a friend of my parents to talk to. She knew our family well, and I felt she could give me more insight in one day into what was tearing me apart inside than a therapist could figure out in a year. And also why there was a wedge between my mother and me. I never really told her too much about how I was feeling, and didn't even tell her I had been taking anti-depressants. I just went to her on the premise that I wanted to see her for a visit. However, she sensed that I didn't have a very good relationship with my mother, and told me what a hard life my mother had had. She even insinuated that I should have more respect for my mother.

During lunch, she and her husband started talking about triangles and how they can ruin a person. I had always thought of love triangles as being when one spouse has an affair and that sets up the triangle. However, the more they talked the more I realized triangles can happen between parents and a child. This takes place when one parent puts a child in the position of having to choose between their parents for their affection. Upon returning home, I gave their conversation a lot of thought over the next few days. I realized that this had happened to me in my family of origin. You see, my father and I had always been very close right from the time I was very young. We knew we could talk to each other about things and it would go no further. Somehow, he put me in the position that if I was close to my mother I could not be close to him. Because this probably happened even before I was six years old, as I grew up, it just seemed normal. My mother, however, sensed what was going on and being the lady that she was refused to play that game and put me in the middle of having to choose between him and her. She backed right off. My mother and I still did things together, such as playing games, and I helped her with freezing fruits and vegetables from the garden. But we never talked about anything of real importance such as our feelings. My mother was a very proud person and would never let on to her children or outsiders even if she was unhappy about something. (My perception again. I don't know for sure. I suppose this is why I learned to "bite the bullet" and not talk about my feelings or problems; I thought people wouldn’t like me if there was anything wrong with me) She also never told me anything that I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone else and she never put my dad down.

By the time I had become a teenager, my mother and I didn't get along at all. I would ask her if I could go some where and she would say go "ask your father". I suppose after raising three kids she was tired of always being the heavy, and decided to let my dad make the decisions as to where I could go and what I could do. Perhaps they even had arguments over this, and my mother finally gave in, because as I said before she had already raised three children and was tired of making the decisions. The closeness I felt with my father continued into adulthood. I had heard that parents treat their children as if they were the same age as when they left home. I was only nineteen at the time so maybe this was why my mother and I had never be able to relate as one adult to another. I had also read somewhere that if you wanted a good relationship with your daughter, then look at the kind of relationship you have with your own mother. I knew it wasn't good. I wanted more than anything to be close to my daughter. Thus, I had to push my father away in order for my mom and me to get to know each other.

It started with a letter to each of them. I told my father that he couldn’t come running to me any more if he had a problem with mom; he had to confront her no matter how trivial the matter was. He had always accused my mom of being stubborn, but I think he was just as stubborn in many ways. He just came running to me instead of telling mom he had his own way of doing things, which was different from hers at times, but still not wrong. The impression I had from my mother all my life was that there was a right and a wrong way to do things, and when it came to running the house and looking after children, her way was the right way. This may or may not have been the case. This is just my opinion.

In the letter to my mother, I told her I wasn't angry with her for anything and would like to have lunch with her one day soon. Apparently, my dad threw his letter on the kitchen table when he read it; my mother picked it up and laughed after reading it. The ice had been broken, and we were finally going to have a talk as mother and daughter. My parents called a week or two after receiving their letters. I was very cold to dad on the phone but never brought up the letter. I was warm to my mom, but again I wouldn't bring up the subject of the letters.

It was a day or two before Thanksgiving that I became increasingly depressed. We were not having a get together with either of our extended families and that really bothered me. It was one of the few times during the year that our entire family usually got together, so I didn’t know what was different about this year. I felt like our family was not important enough to be invited to any family gathering, although as much as I can remember, there was no Thanksgiving Dinner on my husbands' side of the family or mine. Nonetheless, I had decided the four of us would have our own dinner with all the trimmings and I would make the most of it. We had our little celebration on the holiday Monday. My husband was a great cook so he looked after the turkey and dressing while I got all the vegetables ready. As we sat down at the dining room table with all the dishes in place (the ones reserved for special occasions) I realized that I didn't have any appetite. I wanted to eat, but couldn't force myself to take anything but very small portions. As I looked at my husband and children, I noticed that there was hardly anything on their plates too. I couldn't figure out what was happening. We hardly said a word throughout the entire meal, but it seemed as if the rest of my family was following my lead by having very little to eat and they were all in some sort of trance. After dinner, we tidied up and no one mentioned the fact that very little had been eaten. It was as if I was the only person aware of what was going on.

On a whim that evening, I decided to call my mother. I knew it was time to meet with her even though I had no idea what we were going to talk about. I just knew I had to see her.

My mother arrived at my front door at 10:00 am Tuesday morning. I had had hardly a wink of sleep that night and I don't think she slept very much either. This was the first time my mother had come to my home alone just for a "visit" so this was monumental in itself. The only other times she came, she was always with my dad unless there was something unusual going on that I absolutely needed her for. As I opened the door my mother had a sheepish sort of smile on her face. We immediately gave each other a hug. Now this was really huge. The last time I remember my mother and I hugging was on the day of my wedding fourteen years earlier. Showing affection openly was just not part of our family life. I knew my mom and dad loved me, but expressing that love was just hard for them to do. On the other hand, over the years, I had seen my husband's family show a lot of affection for each other. Our families were very different in that regard. Neither was right nor wrong, just different.

The morning started out with having coffee together. To this day I'm not even sure exactly what we talked about, but I know it was about my childhood and how we had never really formed a connection as adults. We discussed a lot of things concerning our family and why certain things happened like the way I had been put in the middle between her and dad. She said she could hardly believe I had figured out what had happened. Unfortunately, I don't remember much else, because I tore about ten pages out of my journal a couple of days later. We hugged each other a lot. We went for a walk to a restaurant to have lunch, and more than once I told my mom to keep her voice down because she was talking very loud. I could also hear all of the other conversations that were going on in the restaurant. (Years later I learned that what I was experiencing was something called "Clairaudience" which I will explain in a later chapter.)

We returned to my home and still talked and talked and talked. It was during this time that I could see a definite glow around mothers' face. I told her about it but I am sure she didn't understand what I was talking about. She just seemed to take the comment in stride and never went to a mirror to see if she could see what I saw. This glow continued a long time, perhaps an hour or more. After more talking and crying, my mom left after we spent six wonderful hours together. It had been cleansing for both of us to lay our cards on the table. And once more, we gave each other a hug. That was two hugs in one day after going fourteen years without one (another seven year cycle).

After she left, I still had this strange feeling inside of me, but the kids were home from school and I had to deal with them so I tried to forget about it. I managed fairly well until I was getting ready for bed. As I took my clothes off, I could feel this movement from above my left breast to right below it. I didn't move. I just stood there and felt the sensation. Instantly I called it my soul connecting to my body. I felt this was happening because my mom and I were finally getting along without bitterness or a feeling of hostility toward each other. (Two or three years later after this movement took place I learned about the seven chakras in the human body. I now know that it was my heart chakra moving into place. My heart had been broken for years because my mom and I had never been able to talk to each other as one adult to another. The heart charka represents our ability to "let go and let God." We release our need to know why things have happened as they have. Some of the fears associated with this chakra when it is not aligned are loneliness, commitment, and "following ones hear". Loss of fourth chakra energy also gives rise to jealousy, bitterness, anger, hatred and an inability to forgive others as well as oneself. All of these attributes rang true for me. Unfortunately they were all negative. Soon after this movement, I could feel within myself the heart chakra strengths evolving. They are love, forgiveness, compassion, dedication, inspiration, hope, trust and the ability to heal one and others. My whole outlook on things changed in a matter of a few minutes from anger to compassion. It was after this occurrence that I really started paying attention to my body language.)

I told my husband about the sensation, and he just seemed to either not hear what I said or he ignored me. I don’t think he understood the significance of what was going on.

I awoke the next morning feeling refreshed even though I had hardly slept a wink. I sent my children off to school knowing full well that what I had experienced the day and night before was not over with yet. I had no idea what lay before me but two Bible verses kept going through my head. I had no idea why. I know now that God had put them there to help me learn two very important lessons. They were "humble yourself" and "the truth shall set you free." Coincidentally, this was now Wednesday, the day of the Bible study group that I had been attending at my church. It was a small but intimate group, just four or five of us. When I got there, I immediately started telling one woman about what had happened to me the day before. I only had a sentence or two out of my mouth when the words, "humble yourself", repeated themselves in my mind. Something told me to shut up about it and shut up now! I sat there in silence for the rest of the morning and barely knew what the other women were talking about, but I did make a note that the Bible verses going through my head had nothing to do with our lesson that day. These words persisted and didn't let up. It didn't matter what else I tried to think about, these words kept haunting me and I couldn’t get them off my mind.

I left Bible study and headed to a track and field meet that my son was participating in. I ran into an acquaintance from church and when she looked at me she said I had a glow about me. Not me too! I assumed it was the same glow that my mother had around her face the day before. I checked the mirror in my van and could see nothing out of the ordinary. However, I did feel a sort of calmness about me. My son wanted me to give him a ride back to school, but I refused because I knew that something still wasn't right within me and I didn’t want anything to happen to him. Upon arriving home, I immediately checked the mirror but there was no sign of any kind of glow around my face.

By the time my children arrived home from school I was feeling quite restless and still had these Bible verses going around and around relentlessly in my head. My daughter kept bugging me to take her to the library although I was somewhat afraid to leave the house. I finally agreed to go but had this uneasy feeling on the walk there. As we entered the library, I noticed two mothers each sitting beside their child in the children's area. I knew we would be heading over there shortly as that was where the books were for my daughter. For some reason, I didn't want to go while these people were sitting there. I made my way over very slowly. About two feet before I got there, the people just disappeared into thin air. I was very distraught but didn't know what to do. Should I tell someone what I had seen? That just didn't seem like the right thing to do, because I knew whoever I told would think I was crazy. My daughter never said a word about seeing anyone. I thought that because I had consciously told myself I wanted them to leave that I was in someway responsible for their departure. I actually checked the local newspaper for weeks looking for a story about the disappearance of four people, but never found anything.

I called my mother to come up once again that evening, and my aunt came with her. I thought the Bible verse "the truth shall set you free" meant that I had to be honest with my mom about some things that I had been ashamed of for the last fourteen years such as not wanting to get married in the first place for fear of disappointing her. Throughout all of this, no one gave a second thought that perhaps there was something wrong with me because of the way I was talking, and I needed to be hospitalized. I went to bed that night and once again slept for only a few minutes. In the middle of the night, I got up and called our minister and told her I was the "Chosen One." I knew what I meant by this but I don't think she did. I thought I was going to walk down a road and have crowds of people following me while I led them to God. Where these strange ideas were coming from I had no idea, but they didn't seem strange at the time. I truly believed what I was saying was true. Throughout all of this, the words "humble yourself" and "the truth shall set you free" never were far from my mind. My minister was able to calm me down a bit, but I was unable to get any more sleep.

In the morning, I kept my children home from school because they had been up late the night before. My instincts told me that I needed them by my side. My husband went to work as usual, and I never even mentioned to him that there was something going on with me that I didn't understand.

I just sort of wandered around our house while waiting for my children to awaken. I couldn't seem to settle down and the Bible verses were still front and foremost in my mind. I spent a lot of time looking outside and noticing what I nice day it was going to be. The sun was shining brightly and I had a hard time taking my eyes away from it. By 8:00am my children were awake and had eaten breakfast. They both wondered why I didn't send them to school, but I just told them it was because they had been up so late the night before.

I seemed to be drawn to one window in our kitchen and kept glancing out of it. On the street behind me, I could see three people taking turns coming to the back door of a house and looking up at my house. This went on for well over an hour. At about the same time that I was observing these people I started seeing 'silvery flakes' going up into the atmosphere right outside the window I had been looking out. I would turn away for a few seconds only to find they were still there when I looked back. This phenomenon went on for an hour or so as well. I seemed to be getting ravenously hungry too. I ate an entire loaf of bread that morning.

I knew that what I was seeing was something spectacular but I wanted to make sure it was not "all in my head." My son was ten at the time and my daughter six. I didn't want to upset my daughter so I waited until she was in another room and then I asked my son if he could see anything outside of the window. He described these things much the same way I did. I continued to ask him throughout the morning if he could still see them and he said yes. At one point I went out and stood in the exact same spot where this was all happening. Nothing seemed to change as I was standing there. I actually called two friends that morning and asked them to come over to witness what was taking place. Both of them declined, saying they had another commitment that day. I knew that these "flakes" were negative energy leaving my body. I was not sure what I meant by that but I just knew somehow that is what they were.

It wasn't until three years later that an expert in "Out of Body Experiences" (OBE) confirmed my suspicions that I had been having one over the three or four day period. He called it a very complicated one. According to him, I was vibrating on the astral, plane which is one plane above the earth plane. While here objects and/or people appear as a glow. The movement in my left breast was the astral body separating from my physical body. Somehow, my son pulled into this energy field and was having his own OBE, thus the reason he could see these silvery flakes. I was saying that I was the "Chosen One" simply meant that I was to have a different mission in life, probably doing something on a spiritual level. It takes a lot of energy to have an OBE, thus the reason I was eating a lot of bread. He told me that what I had seen at the library the previous day were spirit guides as were the three people that kept coming to my neighbors' back door.

I became fearful of everything that was going on around me; the silvery flakes, the people looking at me from another house, the fact that my son could see these silvery flakes. It was just too much for my mind to handle. I thought I was going to be swallowed up into the atmosphere by the sun but really had no idea what was going to happen after that. I feared that I would never see my family again. As soon as this fear set in, I called a relative in Corner Brook, Newfoundland and asked her if she knew anyone who performed exorcisms. I must have felt in some way that I had the devil inside of me and I needed to get rid of him. Then I called a friend in Fredericton and told her I had been off my anti-depressants for four months. She was one of the two people who knew I had been on an anti-depressant and also the person I had sent the three letters to a few weeks before. She told me in a very stern voice that I was to call my doctor immediately and insist that she call in a prescription for Prozac to the drug store right away. I did as she said and could hardly believe it when my doctor followed my orders. By this time, I knew I needed my mother to come up once again immediately. I phoned her and she arrived at my place within half an hour. While waiting for her, I suddenly became fearful of the sun and had this idea that I was going to be swallowed up into the atmosphere with it and be part of the sun itself. I quickly closed every blind in the house, but still didn’t feel it was dark enough. My poor kids, having to watch all this happen. I hid in the front closet for a while and then went to a bathroom that didn't have a window in it and closed the door.

When my mom arrived, I ordered her to go to the drugstore to pick up my prescription. My daughter went with her to show her where it was. She returned a few minutes later, and I immediately took one Prozac and also a pill to help me relax. I sat in the bathroom talking to my mother about what was going on in my mind, and writing as much down as I could. Then I told her I thought I was going to fall asleep and never wake up. I was terrified! What would happen to my children if I did? I wasn't ready to leave this world; I wanted to see them grow up, get an education, get married and have children of their own.

It was about this time that I told my mother she had better call an ambulance. I knew I was beyond helping myself and needed professional help. Just before the ambulance arrived, I tore ten to fifteen pages out of my journal. Somehow, I knew I had been given insight from God about how the universe operates; things scientists had been trying to prove for hundreds of years. I could not share this information with anyone, so I decided to burn the pages. I was still burning them when the ambulance got there, but I refused to leave until every piece of evidence was gone. Even on the way out to the ambulance I covered my head with a jacket. I was still paranoid about the sun. As we were driving to the hospital, I told the ambulance attendants that the sun just seemed to be getting brighter and brighter. I later heard on the news that it was the warmest day ever recorded on that particular day in our area. I also told them that if you told your mother the truth you would be saved and have eternal life. I repeated this over and over again, even as I was in emergency at the hospital. The doctor decided to get me into the psychiatric ward as soon as possible, because I was causing a bit of a scene in emergency by telling everyone you must tell your mother the truth about everything.

I did know that on one page in my journal that I had destroyed, I talked about how everything around me was dying. Everything outside was decaying in preparation for winter. I felt very sad about that. A plant about five feet tall that I had had for ten years suddenly had no will to live anymore. It was dropping leaves daily for no apparent reason. It was many months later before I realized that this plant was a parallel for what was going on inside of me at the time. THE ME THAT I THOUGHT I WAS HAD TO DIE IN ORDER FOR THE ME THAT I NEEDED AND CRAVED TO BECOME COULD LIVE. This was the turning point of the long and painful process of my journey back to myself.

Copyright Lynn Rae 2007