PLR Experience

I put on the pearls and said dantalian’s enn and began staring into the Flames of my candle. I asked him to help guide me through a past life regression. A few minutes before, I knew it was time to do another PLR. My intuition was telling me that it was time. I used a beginner hypnosis link. The suggestions were very powerful but I found it hard to keep Focus once the visualizing of the past life came in. There was a feature here and there that was out of place so I would acknowledge it and allow it to fade out of the scene. It’s worth noting that on this particular hypnosis video it leads you down a hill to an altar. That alter holds a seemingly endless hallway of doors. Each one of these doors represents a past life. As I approached my alter down the path from the hill which was the starting point… I realize that in the place where I thought my alter would stand, the Lincoln Memorial stood instead. At this point you’re supposed to go inside the altar to that hallway, so I walked around to the back and left of the giant statue, finding a descending staircase. I went down one or a couple flights of steps to come upon my hallway. It did not take long to find my door at all. It was bright orange. A small brown table sat to the left of this door. On top sat a single centaurium in a simple vase. This door literally had cow prints along the baseboard that connected to it on its right side. The prints almost seemed to expand further around the perimeter of the orange door as I gave it more attention. There was a small gold plate about a foot and a half up from the center of the door. The numbers read 4 then 3. There were three numbers all together but I couldn’t see the last one. The door opens by itself. I didn’t understand why at first. As this orange door opened I was in another open field. There was a couple there. One of the two individuals looked like me. Exactly like me. Except her fashion style. Maybe the 1800’s? She had a hat on that would most definitely protect her from the Sun. Her dress was white and simple. Kind of poofy with a red cloth belt. Maybe silk? White tights. Before my presence interrupted them it looked as though they were having a picnic And discussing how much they loved each other?

I accidentally saw this couple by looking straight ahead through the door rather than focusing on my feet when I went through. She pointed to another door that appeared in the center of the field. That is the door I walked through. I don’t even remember the color of it now. But I stepped through.

The floor was cold… And I was barefoot. The lights around me seemed dim. I wasnt in a straight jacket, which confused me at first. I was accompanied by who I assume were my parents. We were watching some form of procedure being done on someone (guessing a frontal lobotomy). Two doctors and the patient were in the Next Room but we were observing through a large rectangular window. I’m close to my current age in the regression, so roughly 24, with no ring on my finger. They were arguing the levels of Shame it would bring for me to be put at the asylum. One said that they would be a laughingstock if they put me there, but the other said that they would be a laughing stock if they did not. Between not being able to find anyone to marry me, insisting I knew demons, and reading they felt socially obligated to do something. I’m not quite sure if they were complaining of me reading so much as what I was reading. Or maybe frequency, obsession? I told them that I would do it. They didn’t put me in there against my will. I willingly put myself in bondage for the comfort of my family… to the point of where it cost me my physical freedom. For comfort. Laughter was the captor of my conscience.

NEVER. THE FUCK. AGAIN.