I’ve written something like 1100 pages of memoirs. I may be a very good writer, but when I write memoirs (and I haven’t, really, since 2014) it tends to be a memory dump and does not necessarily make for very good literature, unlike the writing I do here and elsewhere. It’s like if I have a focal point for my writing, it ends up being very good; if not, then it’s a bit less so.
But is that really right? I mean, I haven’t looked at my writing in ages, either. I’m usually surprised when I pull it out and I think, “You should be writing again.” On some level a memory dump works if your memory is very good. And my memory is or at least was very good.
On that sentiment, I took a memoir writing course while at Carlow getting my bachelor’s degree. So this would have been in the fall of 2010. I had done some of the writing I would eventually do, but by no means most of it. What was observed among many writers and that we discussed in class is, ‘if you write your memory on paper, you’re likely to forget it.’ I have found this to be true, too.
While working a 9-5 between 2012 and 2015 I would often spend my weekends doing nothing but writing. I did not have much of a life, so that’s what I spent it doing, up until about August 2014. I can very much say there are at least three chapters, the most recent chapters, of my life that have not been written yet. First, the federal government job, 2012 to 2015. Secondly, what came before it — working for a call center and getting my degree. (So maybe starting around 2007 or 2008). Thirdly, what came after it — my deciding to pick up and move, a year after I quit the job. The year of preparation followed by the actual move and the experiences I had after I moved — so, covering 2015 to 2021. (This could actually be two chapters).
But the chapter I want to highlight here is called “Psychosis.” It covers a period from about October 1998 through June 2000. It was about my falling into psychosis and then recovery. It was one of five psychiatric hospitalizations I had in my life, all in the ’90s, all in my 20s. My writing on this matter is incomplete, but it does include a lot — about being indigent, more or less, and what that actually meant.
The chapter about my psychosis ‘peaked’ a day before the summer solstice, 1999, when I checked myself into Western Psychiatric Institute and Clinic — my decision, as I had decompensated to the point where I knew it was in my best interest to sign on the dotted line when a psychiatrist who evaluated me and didn’t know what to do with me until he finally figured it out, shoved the paper with the signature line toward me.
The chapter is 210 pages long. I have a point to make — not only that I was psychotic, but that the world — my environment, my community — had been getting VERY weird up to that point, and there is an astrological basis for that, which I didn’t realize until recently.
But there was something about the environment I was in that was also very weird. That part of it wasn’t me. But what was it?
I didn’t learn the first part of what it was until sometime late in 2019 as I was learning the Relocational Astrology part of the Vibrational program that I graduated from recently. And this has to do with a set of two Treasure Maps that covered Pittsburgh. I’ll post them:
These two influences are the first two influences that I highlight in my own bio on the main page, so if you’ve been paying attention, you’ve seen them. I dealt with this energy or lack of energy for 28 years. But there was something about 1999, besides the biblical pronouncement that it was the end times, that was especially… intense.
I am not the best at interpreting transits so it had to be pointed out to me that transiting Pluto conjunct my natal Venus, with a 1 degree 18 second orb on the day I checked myself in, is a pretty profound thing. Some of you reading this have gone through the same thing.
“The Moon crosses your Venus every 28 days, but if Pluto ever does it, it will be ONCE IN A LIFETIME, and believe me YOU WILL FEEL IT.”
You can see too that Pluto is retrograde. It actually peaked as a conjunct to my natal Venus in November the preceding year which was probably the first time something exciting happened that ended up becoming something very surreal. I’m not going to relate the story here (it would take up too much space), and it is in the Psychosis chapter of the memoir, so please contact me if you would like to know more. It does involve unrequited love, in a sense — a younger woman I was interested in before things got really intense and weird.
(Pluto gets within a half degree of Venus in August of that year, before turning direct and eventually disappearing as an influence.)
I tell this whole story not only because it is interesting but could teach you a few details about what would make an experience more bizarre.