I've always been... Different. Since I was young, I held this strange feeling deep within my being that there was something more to this world; something the media doesn't tell us, something our parents don't know, and something that is desperately trying to push me along on a path I have both control and no control over.
It was weird - being young and so aware of myself and my emotions. I was often an outcast believed to be too sensitive and too unhappy to hold a steady friendship or relationship for more than a general period of time and absorbing things in a way that others just didn't seem to understand.
I remember numerous experiences throughout my childhood. I once told my parents in the morning before departing for school that I really wanted a fish. On the bus ride home, I felt this excitement inside of me... This knowing. I knew there was going to be a fish waiting for me before I'd even stepped through the door. When I did, and my father told me there was something waiting for me upstairs, I was certain it was a fish - and I was right.
I remember another time, early in the morning before getting ready for school where I sat watching cartoons and munching on an early morning breakfast when out of nowhere the TV lost its sound - at least to my mind - and I heard someone calling me from the kitchen. This was shortly after my Great Grandma passed away, and my mother had been reporting dreams of her presence. I felt immobilized - out of fear or what it may have been, I'm uncertain - but I couldn't move. As I heard the voice approaching me, gently, calmly calling out my name I became aware of its closeness. My father opened the bathroom door and stepped out into the room and as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone. He of course, does not to this day believe me.
When my mother woke up that morning, I asked if it was her because the voice sounded a lot like she did, but she said it was definite that it wasn't, but believed me as my mother is fairly deep into the research of both spirituality and religion. I never had an experience like that again though.
There have been countless other times where I've felt that awareness - that knowing. Sometimes it has to do with a situation, other times with a person, but it has always been there guiding me safely from the hands of danger.
Gut feeling, or spiritual connection?
As I grew older, I became more and more interested in defining what could be going on. I found myself drawn to certain things and then immensely interested in the information that I became aware of. I still dismissed it as intuition - skepticism dies hard.
When I was 16, I started suffering from severe anxiety. I became very depressed, dark ad lost. I started to wonder if there was a purpose to this world because I couldn't seem to figure out why what I felt and what everyone else felt just didn't seem to align.
My parents, upon finding a diary loaded with my deepest thoughts sent me to a psychiatrist who sat with me for a few hours and left me with the decision I was not only Bipolar, but Obsessive-Compulsive and Paranoid. All of this made sense at the time, but still I couldn't dismiss the thought that it wasn't entirely correct.
Yes, I was depressed. Yes, I was reckless. Yes, I was rebelling. But inside of me, I had pure justification for my actions and it was justification unbeknownst to a "crazy" person.
I started to do research, and I began to think there was something else going on - especially when the cocktail of pills I was forcing down my throat each morning was only escalating the problem rather than providing any sort of relief.
I started to get angry. I refused to take my medication, and my mother saw me as being defiant, crazy, wrong and unsure of what I was going through - but I didn't feel like masking the issue was going to fix it, I felt like it was something that didn't need to be mended, but rather understood. Against the advice of my family and doctors, I refused my medication and instead began looking into myself to find the causes of my anxiety.
It was after my parents sent me away that things started to make sense. I was packed up and shipped off without a choice in the matter to a city where I didn't know anymore than my Grandparents. Being highly rebellious at this time due to the immense anger I was feeling, schools were unsure of my presence but I put myself to work and turned around the problems I had created into solutions. I grew stronger and happier and eventually the anxiety turned into an excitement and love for life.
This is when I started to become extremely curious - I was right all along, so perhaps I was right about there being more to this world as well.
I found myself studying conspiracies - with an unbiased mind of course - and eventually stumbled onto spirituality. I was amazed at how it all just seemed to fall together in my mind. The ringing in the ears, the path to enlightenment, the prophets, the teachers - it was all things I felt I knew already, but was learning all over again. It made me feel like I had been onto something since birth, something that so few others around me seemed to understand.
I began auto-writing, something I'd tried to do in the past but failed to achieve. At first I was just getting lines and circles, but then the words started to form and I began to get excited.
Some of the things I got from my sessions were enlightening, others were things already known to me. Still, I couldn't dismiss the thought that perhaps my subconscious was pushing the pen, and not the Spirit in which it claimed to be, but I played along for curiosity's sake. (Once you've been believed a lunatic, it's hard to accept what may or may not be reality.)
I would get pages of writing. The Spirit, who claimed to be pretty high up in the status quo of the Heavens told me about beings; both feeling and being beings. I was told of the Bible, how it was to be a work of art, and how "fermented" blood had ruined the beautiful piece of brilliance.
Throughout each session, I would attempt to receive definitive answers - things I could use in the physical world that would enable me to see it all as being real, and not that of my mind - but was unable to write anything of the sort.
I found that if I think of a word, that's what it writes and if I think of nothing, nothing comes. Other times however, the pen seems to have a life of its own and I am merely a bystander absorbing the insight.
There were a few weird coincidences I don't wish to share due to privacy, but nothing to give me substantial evidence to prove to myself that I wasn't making the whole thing up.
Still however, I feel in my being that there is something more to this - something I'm missing. By accepting that this isn't real, it feels wrong, like I've been leading up to where I am now for my entire life and by dismissing this I will be closing a much needed door.
However, I'm finding it hard to understand whether or not this is real or simply wishful thinking hiding beneath a veil of insanity.
I've never gotten anything negative, on the contrary, the messages are enlightening. I simply do not wish to play around with something I'm unfamiliar with and accidentally dig into a piece of my mind that could be dangerous.
I'm also a believer who is the biggest skeptic, over-analyzing everything and attempting to find the Truth.
Insight, experiences, or wisdom would be appreciated as even though I've stopped bothering to write because I can't seem to believe, I ended up here posting this story for others to attempt to understand.
Peace, Love and Harmony.