I'm going to start by saying that I'm conflicted with the feelings I'm having. I'm educated in Psychology and Human Anatomy and Physiology which is basically brain function and the underpinnings of our bio-chemical responses to stimuli and tetrogens (environmental influences such as drugs on the brain) I usually write off feelings or the stories of other people with Temporal Lobe Epilepsy or the vying of attention from others. I was also raised a Catholic.
With this said, I have had experiences where I am absolutely consumed by sadness and thoughts of suicide. This has happened twice with great consequence, but not for me. I'm a pretty stable person. I wasn't the happiest kid on the playground but there were and are no outstanding psycho-social issues that I have with interpersonal relationships and I was always respectful and well behaved and fiercely intelligent to the point where I was sometimes resented by my peers.
The first time I was leaving religion class and I was waiting for my mom to pick me up. I was in 6th grade and I was standing on the sidewalk with one of my classmates who I wasn't particularly close to but was an acquaintance, his father had parked the car and was coming to get him to go to mass. His father greeted me and touched my shoulder, I was repulsed and I couldn't explain the feeling or the shock that it sent through my body. I'm not a ghost whisperer and I don't have a crystal ball and I hate movies like Paranormal Activity and shows like Ghost Hunters. He died two weeks later in a car accident when he was driving to work as he lost control of his car (NYS in January or February) and entered the opposite lane being struck by a large box truck at 55 MPH.
The second time, I had a dream of a woman who was an elderly member of my family who had died. She would was my mother's cousin and died before I was born. She was wearing a white blazer with a white pencil skirt and a white veil (the kind with lace that widows wear). She was sitting on a curved stone bench under a tree, it was morning and I sensed that I was in a cemetery but there were no headstones nor a mausoleum. She said only a few things, she told me that there was going to be a weasel and birds and that I was in fact in a cemetery but nobody was here yet and they hadn't arrived. I told my mom on our drive to school and asked if there was ever somebody she knew by that name, it was again my mother's cousin who I had no idea even existed. It was September 11, 2001. I was 14 and I immediately vomited as I watched the replay of the towers being hit. I knew. My mother works at the school, she tracked me down and pulled me out of class and into the hall. She stared at me in the face and hugged me without a word. Remember, I was raised a staunch Italian Catholic and it was her doing, we're taught that these things don't exist.
The third time, it was Saturday, November 2, 2003 and I was feeling heavy and consumed by an overwhelming sense of grief and loss, I wanted to commit suicide and I couldn't understand why I was feeling this way as it was completely outside of my MO. I was on my Sunday paper route the next morning and the feeling had vanished. I dismissed it as being depressed and perhaps I should talk to somebody. I returned from my paper route to find my Aunt standing in my kitchen speaking quietly with my mother, I was told that my cousin who was 18 had committed suicide the night before at his girlfriend's college with a shotgun when she told him she no longer wanted to see him. I thought I was an absolute freak, I made the connection almost immediately but couldn't explain it. I was 16.
The fourth time happened on February 6th, 2011; I'm now 24. I was consumed with the another instance of sadness and feelings of suicide, heaviness and I sat in my garage and lit one cigarette after another. I remembered what had happened the last time I felt this way, I was terrified. It was my grandmother, she tried to commit suicide that night by overdosing on Verapamil (sp?), an oil based blood pressure medication that few people survive if overdosed because of the inability to clean the blood with hemodialysis if it was most others on the market that are water based and metabolized through the kidneys.
She exhibited very few warning signs of suicide, she'd had a stroke that had left her partially blind and had given me her entire book collection a week prior to her attempt, I dismissed it as she enjoyed her Nook because of the font size settings. I again felt that pain, some sort of communication? It's full body heaviness and thoughts of absolute violent self destruction. I'm one of her health proxies and I kept her alive because I refused to be right again. She spent 33 days in the ICU.
She was my sponsor and remains one of my closest friends. What is the connection? Why am I sensitive to this? What am I? These are not coincidences and I can't write these off with science and neurology. Am I a psychic? I feel like if I talk about things they won't happen. And then sometimes I think that I'm in the early development stages of paranoid schizophrenia but that's not the case as it started when I was 12. I have no disillusions, 75% of these "feelings" are physical. Help me, please.
I've had instances where I can turn on the radio in my truck and the song I was just singing to myself is playing, the same verse within a few words. I wrote it off as perhaps I was sensitive to radiowaves, why not? Crazier things have happened, that's how the signals are transmitted through the antennas... This happens all the time. I can tell when someone is lying to me, I can dismiss that as being sensitive to body language. I can see that a lot of this is normal but I can't ignore these instances.
Congratulations, if you've made it this far.