This was from a dream my husband had awhile ago. It is pretty heavy as it deals with some of my deep past life trauma, but I was so moved when he shared this with me as I knew it had taken place (although I have no conscious memory of this).
Last night during a dream, Alistine and I found ourselves in my old room at my parent’s house. I don’t recall ever having a dream that took place there before. It looked much the same as it had when I was a teenager, only cleaned up. We were sitting on the floor, with a Macbook sitting between us. I asked Alistine if she would like me to carry some of her “memories” for her (as in, the energy or emotion of the memories, not literal memories). She consented, and I assumed a folded meditative position. I called on Jesus, who in the dream I called Lord Isa, to come to me and help me. I asked him to do what could be done to remove some of Alistine’s burden and place it on my shoulders for the time being– not all of her past, or any more than he knew I could carry- I just longed to take the edge off of her pain and burden for a time, so she could heal. So much has been coming through the floodgates all at once. I wanted to help.
I could feel Isa smiling in my heart as he granted my request. The memories came, not in a rush, but in a slow moving stream. On the Macbook that had been sitting between us, the “files moving between folders” animation started moving, and I could feel the stream running through me, too. When it was done, six movie files were displayed on the screen. I moved to a reclining position and began to watch. Alistine sat to the side, watching but in a way that she could turn away if she needed to, and she did, several times. I only remember the first “file” well. I should explain that though the files were images, watching them felt like having emotions. The images weren’t the memories themselves, they were a representation of the emotions of what had happened, and the real thing was going on inside. So they were really figurative images, art house type things. A busy room crowded with people, like a party that had too many guests, stumbling over each other to get to their drinks. A quiet, empty corridor in a well-maintained home. A child crying. A pile of discarded doll parts lying in a corner.
The worst image/emotion/memory was the last, and the one I remember best. It was a porcelain doll, a hideous red and white and black painted thing, sort of orientalish looking, like a twisted version of a Kokeshi doll, all in nasty red lead paint. It was not expressive but its face was cruel. Worse was the emotion that came with it: complete and utter horror. Like your heart falling out of your chest one day. Like the uncanny valley, only far worse. The feeling you get when an echo from a past life intrudes into the present one and you are terrified, only stronger. It was a wicked thing. As with an astral entity I encountered once, I think I was protected a bit from the effects- the seal of Christ, I think of it. I perceived it as what it was but did not entirely feel the emotion, was not buffeted around by it as much as I would have been if they had really been my own emotions. I did not fear the doll, but hated and disdained it for where it had dared to take up residence. That was the end of the “file”. There were five more. Alistine did not watch the part with the doll, or much after that, but we held each other. The dream resumed as normal after that.
I do not think the memory-emotion-energy fragments are now wholly gone from Alistine’s consciousness, or that she could not recall them if she wanted. I do not know all of what they contain, or how large the units are that I now bear six of. I do think that we now bear them together, and that I am now shouldering their weight as we carry them. I love her. And I am grateful to the powers that be for letting us share things in this way, and to my Lord for granting my request, and for the situation that allowed me to be a suitable carrier for this at this time. Amen.