Sight And Sensitivity Returning?

My mother says that she realized I was different when I first began talking. The story goes something like: I told her that I loved her very much, but I had another Mommy before her. Immediately she set off to a local psychic to find out what was going on with me. The details of that session have never been made known to me. I've asked my mother, quite recently, but she said that so many years had passed, she couldn't really remember anymore.

Here are things that I remember: I had a happy childhood. I was the first grandchild on both sides of my family and was doted upon. When I talked to the people in my life, they listened. I had a vocabulary beyond my years, and spoke on subjects outside the norm for a child my age. One might attribute that to the lack of playmates my own age, but I had imaginary friends a plenty. Or did I? In retrospect, I believe that I had long term relationships with beings from other realities. For what it's worth- I don't think any child has imaginary friends, I think they have real connections with energies and vibrations that adults do not recognize. I would sing little songs and have conversations with my friends.

It wasn't until my Auntie's finance' passed away that I found out I mgiht see things others did not. I recall, quite clearly, the confusion I felt at his funeral. The air was heavy with grief and everyone seemed so solemn- except for my uncle. He stood beside me, and held my hand. He bent over and peered into my face and said "Don't worry, everything is fine. I'm okay". He gave my shoulders a little squeeze and waded into the crowd. Later, at the wake, he was peeking at the food piled on people's plates and clowning around and making faces. Someone tried to explain to me what had happened, but I refused to take it in. If he was dead and never ever coming back, why was he standing there waving at me? My aunt was speechless. I don't think we've ever talked about it since then.

As I grew older, my sight faded. I remained sensitive, especially to the vibrations of the people around me. As an adult, I have focused on controlling my overwhelming empathy. I'm a magnet-literally and figuratively. I drain watch batteries in about two weeks and wreak havoc on cell phones, laptops and anything else with a magnet. It kind of makes sense to me that I am also a magnet for people- especially people who are in distress. They gravitate toward me. As a result, I end up hearing a lot about people that I really can't manage. They tell me things, verbally, and download so much more on a vibratory level that it makes my brain ache. I live with chronic migraines and have two rooms in my house dedicated to darkness and silence. I spend hours in my bathtub, meditating, toning, and praying for relief. About three years ago I began working with a group of women in a spiritual chorus. We work specifically on a sonic level- seeking to raise the vibrations of those around us to a healthier and happier level. About a year into this work I noticed that my sight and sensitivity had begun to return, somewhat. (I had also begun to see a local medium, who wanted desperately to "wake me up" the first time we met.)

It began very subtly. I would be sitting in a room alone and feel as if someone were watching me. I smudged my apartment and did a cleansing ritual. I started to spot shadow people here and there- along the roads and sometimes near hospitals and retirement homes. I began to experience changes in my meditative practices. When I used to find my center- an anchor- while sitting and chanting, I began to drift out of my body. At first, these were gentle sensations. I would feel a little light headed, perhaps. Then I would feel a little more to the left or right than usual. I found that I "spaced out" more often and that I would often leave my conscious state. One day, I stepped away from my body at a friend's home, only to feel myself violently pushed away from my body. I felt threatened and battered- attacked! I had never felt frightened like that before. My friends gifted me with jewelry made of stones and crystals and minerals to help ground me and keep me in my body. I carry these on my person at all times now.

I moved into a turn of the century farmhouse in a rural community earlier this year. I performed a ritual cleansing of the home. I invited the Arch Angels to visit for several days. I feel comfortable in the house, most of the time. However, I do experience a degree of distress every now and again, in specific areas of my home. There is a small room on the ground floor that I slept in, following a tumble down the stairs that left me with a broken toe and a sprained knee. I fell asleep one night, only to be awakened by the sound of an animal growling, somewhere in close proximity. I slept on the sofa the remainder of that night and for many nights afterward. Again, I smudged the house. Again I invited the angels. The house was calm. At no point did I ever feel anything untoward going on in the house. I could feel something, a slight dampening of vibrations, but nothing overtly hostile.

Two nights ago my mate's snoring drove me from our bed. I took refuge in the guest room, directly across the hall. I carefully pulled our bedroom door shut, to create another barrier from the noise. I curled up in the guest bedroom and drifted off. Sometime around 3:30 I woke because I felt someone in the room with me. I could hear them breathing, sort of labored. I heard them in the doorway. I heard them make their way around the bed. I assumed he had woken and come to see where I was. Irritated, I squeezed my eyes shut to signal that I was sleeping. I know, playing possum is so childish, but I was so tired! I heard them come round to the other side of the bed and bend down, to look at my face. I felt the bed move, pressed down a little, as if someone had placed a hand on it to lean over. I could hear the breathing, so near my face- then a sigh and they retreated.

The next day I asked my mate if he had come in to check on me during the night. He said he had slept so hard, he hadn't even noticed I was gone. I told him what happened and he told me that it was odd, but when he woke up later that morning, he could have sworn I was still in the house. He grabbed his phone to look at the time and thought I must be terribly late for work. He went downstairs and found the house empty. I had left at least 90 minutes before he woke up.

I have a very strong suspicion that I know exactly who came to visit. I felt completely comfortable with whoever it was with me in that room and whoever it was felt male to me. I cannot explain how something feels male or female. I suspect I learned to recognize a certain feeling about females and males over the course of my lifetime. This person felt male and familiar.

My grandfather passed away about two years ago. I speak to him often, but have lamented, loudly and more often than I would like to admit, that he's not favored me with any visitation since he crossed over. He suffered with a respiratory condition during the last years of his life, and that belabored breath should have been a clue. Why was I such a stubborn little possum?