Gloria’s Helper
AUTOMATIC LETTER 22
Wednesday night
Dear Adam,
Another dream – a dull quiet afternoon in the second grade. More empty seats than usual because some of the children were home sick with the flu but little Gloria was there. Sister teaching mathematics on the blackboard to the children while bluebirds and redbirds sat on the window sills. The brightest of the students were permitted to read in the reader books.
Gloria was tired of the supplementary reader that she had already read twice and tired of the second grade. Sister embarrassed her by making her a pet and the schoolwork was so easy that it did not hold her interest. She was often angry and didn’t know why.
But now she felt sick because she saw the Sister stop to speak to someone – it was the “Other”. She squirmed restlessly in her seat – the classroom was very warm. Why didn’t Sister take the “Other” in another room? Why didn’t they open the windows, it was so warm.
The “Other” was talking not only for the Sister’s benefit but for all the students. He told how Gloria was found to be a criminal and if any of the students had anything missing would they raise up their hands. Several of the students did and he said he’d look in my room and would return what he found. She was embarrassed to death and she wanted to kill him. How dare he do something like this? The Sister tried to shut him up but there seemed no end to the blabbermouth. The rest of the day the children made fun of her and no one would walk home from school with her – she woke up when someone yelled, “Hey Criminal how does it feel to be a crook?” Not a nice dream!
Gloria’s Helper
AUTOMATIC LETTER 23
Monday night
Dear Adam,
Tonight Gloria dreamt that she was standing on a high cliff above the water, above the ocean scanning the water for her mother. She saw her blond head disappear in the waves and leaped off the cliff. She awoke breathing frantically, suppressing a scream.
Next she dreamed of the “Other”. She knew he felt deeply about things but what a temper. He should have been labeled “Highly explosive, use care in handling.” But I’m not going to go into what happened because I’ll get scared again.
It’s strange but I’m remembering what a gypsy woman once told Gloria. She said that the mind was a wonderful machine. People tell you how smart a little boy is when he can do calculations so big you can’t even write them down. Or a genius like that Einstein comes up with a way to make a big enough bang to kill everyone.
“But little girl you know what the real wonder of the mind is? It’s not these geniuses. The real wonder is forgetting. Why do you think that café next door does so well? People go there, they have a few glasses of wine, and they forget. Or they come here, have their fortunes told and they forget. Even wars can be forgotten little girl. That’s how wonderful the mind is.”
I guess that gypsy made more of an impression with her words too little Gloria than she ever thought of because we sure followed her advice. Now when I sense there is something important I’ve forgotten, I can’t remember what it is. I know it’s important because just thinking about it makes my heart beat fast and furious. Well someday we’ll remember and then I’ll share it with you.
We had an awful nightmare about the “Other” tonight that is best forgotten. We’ll see you soon – till then.
Gloria’s Helper
AUTOMATIC LETTER 24
Sunday night
Dear Adam,
Before going to sleep tonight Gloria asked herself, “What counts in this world anyway? Love, loyalty, friendship, work? Everything comes and goes so fast. We don’t cherish what we have. We’re always looking for something more.” Then she thought, “But I’m not sure. Peace I suppose. Serenity. A sense of what I’m meant to be. A contentment with what I am.” She fell asleep thinking of this and her sleep let her heal herself as she dreamed.
Asleep, she found herself walking fast and furious not knowing where she was going only that she was anxious to get there. She came to a house – so many windows to clean! Such high and wide windows. As she backed away, slowing her walk, she tried to see which windows were hers. Suddenly, she collided with something, and quickly turning she confronted not a wall, but a hedge that was almost like a wall, it grew so tall and went on and on. She followed it and discovered a maze.
With childlike delight she entered the maze, not for one minute thinking it could confuse her. She’d always been good at puzzles. It was pretty in there, it was so quiet. The house that seemed so close when she turned to check – where was it? She made a turn and found an end, a dead end. Then she made another turn and met another dead end. Night settled down and she heard a window closing, then another, she followed the sound and found herself in front of the house again. But someone shouted, “Get away from here. You don’t belong here.”
“But this is my house with all my family. I live here.”
“No, you don’t and there’s no family living here, just an old man.” She turned to walk away and found herself in the maze again and she put her head down and fell asleep crying – then she woke up.
Gloria’s Helper
AUTOMATIC LETTER 25
Wednesday night
Dear Adam,
I think it first started with a dream. No not a dream but more of a nightmare. In it I was standing with my parents – I don’t know where. They were talking with each other and sometimes they would turn and say something to me. The only thing was when I talked to them, they seemed unable to hear me. As I kept trying to get into their conversation I reached up to push my hair back. I was horrified to find a large clump of hair falling into my hand. Again and again I pushed back at my hair and each time I did another clump of my hair came free. What was going on? Suddenly, a mirror appeared before me and in it I could see my image. I choked back a scream. My beautiful blouse was filled with holes, and my skirt was too and dirty. And before my eyes I watched my features bloat. As I became fatter and fatter, I began to cry.
A trail of tears streamed down my cheeks. I tore my eyes from my ugly image and turned to my parents, screaming for their help. Yet my parents did nothing. Why wouldn’t they help me? I couldn’t stop screaming.
Finally, when I thought my voice was gone and I was unable to utter a sound, they turned to look at me. Looks of astonishment broke across their faces. Then their eyes grew cold with disgust. Soon it was replaced by a smirk of satisfaction and then they turned and walked away leaving me alone and in darkness. I found my voice and cried for help but they only kept walking becoming smaller and smaller. I couldn’t move though I tried to follow them. Then I turned back to my image and before I could blink an eye, the mirror shattered and shreds of glass came directly at my face. I tried to shield my face and I woke up screaming with my heart beating fiercely. For a moment I couldn’t figure out where I was. Then as the familiar bedroom came into view, I remembered I was home.
Gloria’s Helper
AUTOMATIC LETTER 26
Thursday-early morning
Dear Adam,
Before I tell you my dreams tonight, I want to thank you for helping Gloria and I with our negative thinking this afternoon.
Often after our talks with you our heart is filled with gratitude. You’re such a beautiful person – beautiful not only outside, but within as well. You’re one of those rare beings who measure people not only by what you see but by what you learn about them and, I thank God that we have you. You’re also gracious, judicious, and honest. You expect people to accept you as you are because that is your own way. You’re the first person with whom we are able to relax fully, to whom we can admit our frailty and the extent of its emotional drain upon us. And knowing this Gloria has come to accept and love herself as she is.
Tonight, I dreamed of people arguing in loud voices. I was so tired of their quarrels and their basement rooms gave me a headache. They were arguing over a poppy seed. I could not bear the shouting over an issue which seemed to me
as unimportant as a poppy seed.
I turned to my friends the trees outside for comfort. How quiet, how productive (leaves, flowers, fruit) I thought; such a perfect creation which never argues in a loud voice, never inflicts cruelty upon its fellows. Of course it was still winter and very cold and it came to me that the tree, naked without its leaves, might be feeling a sense of shame at such exposure. And so I whispered into a knotty hole of its trunk a private communication. “It is only natural,” I explained, “a necessary period in the cycle of seasons. You will grow your lovely leaves again quite soon, and all will be well with you.” How could I ever leave that peaceful moment and go back inside to all the yelling and quarreling and load voices. I was happy that I awoke at this time.
See you soon.
Gloria’s Helper
NOTE:
Here my unconditional love and acceptance of Gloria helps her to begin to accept and love herself.
AUTOMATIC LETTER 27
Sunday night
Dear Adam,
Gloria didn’t leave any paper except this orange paper so I’m using this. Wish I could put myself in a trance as you put me. Still tonight in my dreams I left my body and I was up in the stars – light but it wasn’t light. It was brighter than light, but no glare, no hurting from it.
Out of it spelled “LOVE”, not the fake syllable but LOVE that IS! Like no love I’ve ever imagined, “LOVE.” I saw, “THAT MATTERS!” Words but they weren’t words or even ideas and the scene was beautiful, filled with life, with a universe so powerful, a love so beautiful, it made me want to cry with joy.
Then for the first time in a long time I fell into a deep sleep and returned from nothingness. I could hear the cars going by from the windows in the dark but nothing bright. I was like a life in limbo but a desolating grief is now born in me and I mourn all those who have died – but it will pass that I know. Time takes care of a lot of grief.
See you tomorrow.
Love – Gloria’s Helper
NOTE:
Gloria experiences cosmic consciousness and is filled with divine love that gives her the strength to face her grief.
AUTOMATIC LETTER 28
Thursday night
Dear Adam,
I had a bad night – each time I’d fall asleep I’d see the picture of someone, a broken, torn teak doll. Then it was nightmares – blows – cries – cruses – I’m surprised at the strength of my feelings for what happened in those nightmares.
I stare at the blank window, dimming into darkness at the foot of the stairs. I hear the voice asking the same question – I never knew; knew only what it felt like to live within the shadow of another’s plan – always caught and trapped there, no escape possible. To admit is to invite worse, no this is a mistake, a wrong step, and it will bring the furies down upon my head. I’d better write about the nightmares instead.
Gloria dreamed of her father tonight. She was running as fast as she could toward the distant figure of her father. He held his arms out to her, urging her to come and be with him. But no matter how hard she tried, the road beneath her kept slipping away like a treadmill.
Also there was a nightmare of being caught in quicksand – usually maybe an inch or two but this time my whole body was in quicksand, the only part above, a straw held in my mouth so that I could breathe. Very tired – goodnight
Gloria’s Helper
AUTOMATIC LETTER 29
Sunday night
Dear Adam,
Gloria is having nightmares again. As of tonight it is impossible to put some of my feelings into words. For one thing, I’m starting to really feel and at the same time I feel drained because I’ve opened a door that has been stuck shut for years and I’m dumbstruck at what I see when it’s opened.
For years – something buried so deep inside – never sure what it is – more dangerous than any shadow or ghosts. Ghosts had shape and names – this has none – whatever lived inside was so potent that sometimes it seemed like a terrible bomb – glimpses caught in school or on the way home. The safe world falls away and I know that the little girl walking saw things that no little girl should see – blood – shattered glasses – all kinds of horrible things – destruction – people crashing to their deaths – no burials just vanishing, so many dead people. I feel nothing – numbness has become part of me
Later
Hi,
It’s important that Gloria does not create a wall at this time – this is why I’m here again. There are other things you must know about the child (we spoke of) but I can’t go into it now. About the child – he has not lost his eyes or his legs but his will and his taste for life.
Again, I’m seeing a picture of the child at ten – the parents show pictures of relatives – some are dead. The parents do not tell the child that they’re angry – the child feels it – it’s in the air in everything said and done – but at the age of ten, what does one do with that. The child gets angry because they are all dead and he can’t do anything about it. Most important to this child is the parents that even though they don’t say they’ve suffered, he senses they are fragile. The parents appear to be very strong people but the child has to be gentle with them always because it has to be. The child has no right to get angry with them because they’ve suffered enough. Even more the child has to always be happy in order to make up for everything that happened
The child was taught that the most terrible thing (to do) or to be is being selfish. To put yourself first to the child is that of being happy at ten years old. So the child was taught that he didn’t deserve to be happy even if he was expected to be.
Another picture about the child – everyone in the family is dying – death doesn’t scare this child – death is like a soft blanket – like being held in someone’s arm. When the parents talk of death, it’s always as a place where everyone will hold a reunion.
Other things you’ll have to know – here. I’ll have to use caution a little more. I’ll await any suggestions you may have.
Gloria’s Helper
NOTE:
Gloria’s Helper and I were walking a tightrope as if high above the breathtaking and lethal Niagara Falls. A delicate balancing act to avoid a disastrous slip that would send Gloria hurdling back into the abyss of dissociation and amnesia. Gloria’s Helper understood we had to proceed slowly to avoid Gloria panicking and regressing behind a wall of detached numbness, where her progress would be dashed. It would be a terrible setback that would close her off to us and cause her to resist our help. She needed time to absorb the mounting shock of reality and time to rest to gather emotional strength to face her childhood trauma.
AUTOMATIC LETTER 30
Monday night
Dear Adam,
I’m here to help Gloria. First, I need help, no “closing off” today – closing off is okay as a skill to survive from one day to the next but Gloria has to live. I’m trying to collect myself. I feel as though I’ve just run the Los Angeles Marathon – and lost. A most responsive chord I was feeling just now and I lost it again. I’m thinking – one step at a time – easy does it – rule out fear – rule out panic – keep your head, you can survive anything. OK, I will.
Letting myself relax. I see people at services I, too, watch the people cry. I never do – I think of it, all I feel is a numbness a cold dead blanket which covers me like a fog – now I feel it creeping over me again but beneath it deep down, I feel something give away like a bank of sand crumbling under an ocean wave – just like tonight. I feel tears blurring view and now I allow myself to remember things I had never – oh, now it’s happening again – someone is ringing the door buzzer. Gloria is looking at the peephole, she’s walking away she isn’t answering. I won’t panic – hold it – calm down – dwell on something else.
Later
Hi again,
I must tell you that something happened, I’m not sure what. Gloria had nightmares, she was back in the other place – rough voices – blows or kicks when someone got in t
he way. Wisdom learned from that place tells her she should do nothing to let anyone notice her. I think it best to wait till you suggest something before I try to see anything else. I’m okay.
Later
Hi again,
The only one to give vent to emotions at this time is this writer. It feels as though I’m sitting on a powder keg waiting to blow up. A terrible anger is flowing through me. When one falls asleep it should be with a sense of escape to somewhere safe and comforting. True there are nightmares sometimes but what is most horrible is to grope through waves of awareness and think you’re waking from some black, heavy dream and then to sense that the nightmare is still going on because it’s all around you –
I’m tired will write later.
Gloria’s Helper
AUTOMATIC LETTER 31
Sunday night
Dear Adam,
Gloria is resting while I tell you what’s going on. It’s been one nightmare after another. Gloria was dreaming of a hotel. She knew it was a hotel although she had never been there before it was vast, she seemed to run down endless corridors. People ignored her and talked to each other as she ran past as though she was not there. She had to find someone, she didn’t know why, she only knew she had to find this person or – or what? She didn’t know the urgency or the reason – she turned a corner and was in a dark narrow passage, blind – she heard breathing somewhere but could see no one. It got darker and she started to feel her way across the passage – she fell – it became less dark and she saw a closet door – the door started to open slightly – she screamed and that was it – she woke up.
To add to this, her inner force refused to leave her alone – it did nothing she could put her finger on – no outbursts but there was a feeling of something functioning inside that wasn’t her – something that was brooding and trying to think things out – it must have had something to do with me.
I don’t like closets. I haven’t for a long time. I was never locked in one like some are – but I still hate closet doors. I feel scared, anxious – very much afraid. Many times Gloria finds that I’m the only one who has the answers for her – it’s only because I know of things – of experiences she doesn’t remember – of incidents that happened. It’s also because I’m determined to take care of her. She is learning to have faith in relying on me – it’s all thanks to you. We follow your suggestions, we don’t open the front door, we lock our windows, and no looking through the peephole or outside when we hear the noise this way we are protected.
Gloria Rising: A Story of Hope and Survival In Dark Evil Places Page 5