The Perilous Realm

I think about my mental illness sometimes. I think it is not a defect, but a positive. I find I live between the real world and the perilous realm of demons and angels and dryads and nymphs and unicorns and fairies. Often I think that what we call the real world is only dust and dreams or for some nightmares. And what matters is the other world, the perilous realm. The world of demons and miracles where everything we do has eternal consequences and where the faith can move mountains and the spells of witches can cause sickness and death and the angels can cure them.

Often I think that before Christ came the demons had more power in the world and the perilous realm was closer to the real world and there were more links between it. But after the Crucifixion the perilous realm faded. But some people see it more than others. I have only seen glimpses. I can sense it more than see it. I am not that gifted and I am not practiced in the arts, except for wandering alone with no master, or alone except for my angel and the saints and God who look over me.

We all live in both realms at the same time but we can usually only see ourselves in the real world. But in the other realm we are slaying dragons or carrying the one ring to the fire mountain, or more likely fighting in Sauron's army.