I was never like the other kids. I didn't have friends, couldn't spend the night anywhere, always felt judged or different. Due to the solitude I put myself in I never knew my abilities. Honestly, I still don't know what they are.
Yes, I've seen things but not often. Yes, sometimes I hear voices in my head that is not my own. That has never bothered me. What bothers me is the pain I go through every day.
A family friend was dying in a nursing home so I went to visit. I never spoke about the things I go through until this time. As soon as I walked in the building I would get simple words popping in my head like someone was playing ping pong. Cup, home, horse, train, necklace. It was the most overwhelming experience I've ever had but since then I feel like I've gotten stronger.
Since then I was walking around an older cemetery reading names and dates when a certain plot and headstone caught my eye at the edge of the wood. "Evelyn" I thought. I saw her face in my head. Light shoulder length brown hair with a small clip holding back her bangs to the left, mild curls, dark eyes. She was wearing an off-white floral dress. "She was 24 I think it was a car accident." As I said all of these things to my friend I walked over to the small headstone.
Her name was Evelyn. She died at the young age of 24. Early 60s. I will never forget her face. Her smiling as if she was laughing and turning to someone. She was so warm feeling. Her face made me happy, yet sad. She reminded me of my grandmother, whose name was also Evelyn.
I suffer from severe bipolar depression with bits of mania. I've been on several different medications since age 7. I always thought the feelings I had were due to my mental disorders. I fight every day to understand what's going on and to simply get out of bed. What if I am just crazy and all of this is a coincidence? What if my strong emotions toward things is just my bipolar depression and I'm just weak and can't handle myself?
Can someone explain what I experience and why? Please.