πŸ‘€ Seeing is to Believe πŸ‘€

πŸ‘£ My Story My Version πŸ‘£

The Mind of the Eye
The Mind of the Eye πŸ‘€.
Photo by Akshay ES on Pexels.com

Life seemed to be good for me, a Junior in High School.  One weekend I left my car at work.  Rode with friends to hang out around the forth of July in 1995.  My friends boyfriend was much older who kind of, okay he was weird. We were going to his house, to hangout; in which he lived with his parents.  Arriving, the feeling was creepy, many acres of land and an old house.  A house that immediately, visions flashed faster than fast forward.  The projector was intense with people walking all around the house inside and outside.  He joke as we got out the truck that many years ago, funerals were held in the main room of the house.  Yes, being creeped out was more than a feeling.  I felt and saw way to much.  In less than fifteen minutes, I seen the zombie apocalypse in reality.  People walked around like we weren’t even there. A whole world that is beyond death.  Spiritual world that takes place everyday, like we go on about our days.

That moment my perspective changed on death.  That creepy feeling was a peace and calmness that came over me.  Actually it was interesting, yet wonder if they could see me..  My friends boyfriend would talk about ghost being in the house.  He said many noises were heard which that was right on point.   The plan was to watch movies.  A night of hanging out no alcohol or drugs in which was normal for the most part.  Wanting to watch faces of death.  That’s not my choice of movies, immediately I said,” no way”.  Of course I am out ruled and “Faces of Death” it was.

I never was someone to watch any type of violence, death or blood seeker-gory movies.  My point, it is mind-warping negative images that I’m not interested in seeing.  Having visual gifted vision was enough.  We were all talking and kind of watching the movie.   Conversation and laughing was better while the movie played on the TV.   So not really paying attention.  Then I froze, was numb a spirit stood by me pointing to the TV.  I felt the connection was beyond real.  The screen was a guy in a bad car wreck, I barely could watch.  My head began to hurt, eyes blurred, and the projector played in my head.   The faces of death on TV matched my projection playing.  The image of my cousin was real and my stomach was sick.  Looking at the clock it was a little after 2 am.  Something had happened and I was feeling it.  My head began to pound and I felt sick.  I told my friend I needed to go cause my head hurt.  On the ride to my car, feeling I was rolling and dizzy.  I only had about 4 miles to my house.  Arriving home, I went in and wrote in my journal then fell asleep.  Waking up my head still was hurting not as bad but it was noticed.  I heard the phone rang so I went to my dads bedroom door.  My dad said “You got to be kidding?”  I knew what I seen was real.  Dad hung up the phone it was bout 7:00 am.  He asked if I wanted to go to my uncles house, that my cousin was killed in car accident last night?.  Yes, I will go. My neck hurt really bad. Once at my aunt and uncles house, learning bits an pieces of the accident. My family was crippled by the news. My cousin being a popular, handsome young man in his 20’s.  A full life just before him and just getting his CDL’s.  Life didn’t once again seem fair.

***Dad***

Late January of 2002, one evening for dad to be in bed was rare.   Checking in on him, a yellow tint was noticeable.  I knew it was serious, called 911 to have him taken to the hospital.  Following the ambulance many visions continued like a slideshow in my head.  No matter what was to come, I would be right there.  From behind, I could see a women’s shadow, sitting next to him in the ambulance.

Gang-green set in on dad’s gallbladder.  With infection, drain tube experiment, and the discovery – that “C” word – cancer.  Gastric cancer, those words hit me like a ton of bricks.  Everyday for days to come were blurred, numb, but I was there day in day out with Dad.  The decision to take the stomach to golf ball size – to remove cancer.  My drug addiction was discovered – to numb the pain- here I am! My middle brother and I got really close; as we all struggled with the news.  “Meth” was the go to, need to, and my want too.  “Add it” the addiction, suppressed feeling of what was coming. The day of dads surgery, it was a very lengthy procedure. Many hours and complications it was late that evening; once we got to see him in recovery.  My heart broke in many pieces, it was real.  Before seeing him, my body tingled, it was not good. 

He had a breathing tube in and he was exhausted. My eyes got blurred, my hands sweaty and my body was weak.  My face flush, my words mumble, needing to get fresh air.  Tears were fresh and emotions felt in deep stabbing heart wrenching pain. I walked down a hallway, white walls and a bright light.  Feeling as I felt my way down the hall.. As dizziness felt, nausea, faint and weak. A lady says ” I am so sorry, your father is a very sick man.  We have tried everything to make him comfortable.” Barely being able to see and how weird I felt, I said thank you so much. And before I could say anymore, she was gone.  I knew she was real by her taking my hand and talking to me. 

Days to come were hard emotionally, mentally, and physically.  Never had I felt so numb and so thoughtless.  My mind was blank – blank as in, I couldn’t think or process anything.  My body had just functioned on auto-pilot.  Drugs became my push through that enabled a functioning behavior. To hide the pain and emotions that were real.  “Add it,” grew in need as time didn’t stop.  Cancer then became over powerful to spread aggressively.  Dad passed away March 3rd, my world stopped.  The world around me kept moving.   Functioning was just that, with additives.   Additives of drugs were daily and very frequent. 

My middle age brother “Bull” became my best friend. His character of stubborn and bull headed gave his nickname. He lived within walking distance in front of dads house. Our conversation and closeness helped me function. I was proud to be his sister. We connected like never before in the past years. Time was special for sure.

*** Bull – My Brother ***

It had stormed really bad, while coming home from work.  I noticed a huge rainbow of beautiful bright colors.  It was a very happy moment, but was it a sign?  After returning home, my youngest brother called my brother I got very close to was in a boating accident.  The news spread fast as my brother was missing from the boat. A storm had mad the waterways rough and a barge may have passed. Causing the boat to capsize due to combined weather and water conditions.  His long time friend who was legally blind had made way to shore.  My brother had thrown him the life jacket, and my brother began to swim.. The rough waters from the storm challenged my brother.

As the water rescue team, searched for my brother, night had closed in.  We sat on the banks of the river in silence watching.  My uncle said ” this the stuff we see on the news and we turn it off and go to bed”. Those words hurt deep, with truth, as it was real.  That moment we wished could have been a bad dream or the ability turn it off. .  It was our family, our brother, son, friend, one of us.  Seven weeks after my dads death and now my brother? 

To find my brothers body was priority.  Prayers were in high demand.  In three days of Water Rescue searching the waterways to recover the body.  My younger brother found a cooler lid that read “Hope”.  My mom felt someone kiss her in the middle of the night and say “I Love you!”.  She barely seen a face but knew someone was there.  A roff.frsat on my window seal for those three long days.  A week prior to the accident, my dad came to me, stood at the end of my bed.  I thought I was dreaming, he said, “God will never give you more than you can bare”.  A blurred vision the projector – a side glimpse of a mans face.  More than once, I said, “Pop, who is it”?  I couldn’t see clear enough,. An angel in my room fell from the wall.  It was real that image was someone – just as my collection of angels never failed. The boy angel below an angel picture of children.  A girl angel kneeled across from the boy. The blue angel boy off.from the wall after my fathers visit.   

I was scared when the police knocked on the door.  My brothers body was recovered.  Relieved for that part of closure but devastated.  My addiction got real, really quick. Being close to another was not in my plans. Numbness wasn’t even close to a feeling. The world moved around me, for the most part I barely stood still. I struggled with addiction. I struggled with life, I struggled with who I was, who I become. The struggle was real.

Having a closed casket for my brothers wishes.  He wasn’t keen on everyone seeing and crying over him, as he was also a private person.

  Which he told me those wishes seven weeks prior at our fathers funeral.  Walking into the private viewing before the service, ability to see him.  My heart sunk in my stomach, a side view.  “Yes, dad gave me that vision”. My brother, the face was clear, a side view across the room.

Why would I have these vision if I could not change anything? Life didn’t have answers. Answers to this world, my life and connecting to death. Well it was too damn much. My addiction grew but I could careless. My drinking was regular and my ability to take care of me – was failing. A time or two I remember doing laundry finding a shirt of my dad’s. The scent of old spice or Brut after-shave. A scent that I love to smell, even the reminder brings fresh tears. Thise little things were so crippling. I was so angry, pissed off, drugs was an addiction that grew to cover pain. At one point, I begged God to take me out of this world. It just wasn’t fair.. I didn’t want those visions, it made no sense. I wasnt myself anymore. I was suppose to function in the painful world. How does that happen in a normal person? Normal I once was, life took that from me. One thought that never amazed me more – life is the real raw experience that is not learnt. Its learnt with pain, emotion, physical and mental pain. Its called “live it” by experience. You and only you, can know those raw moments. Functioning is tough, functioning is unpleasent everyday. Until you learn to grieve. Grieving is the key that opens your world- of you once again. I had no way of dealing or coping by experience. This my friends, was my experience to cope, grieve, and grow by experience. Drugs and alcohol become a habit to function. A suppressing mechanisms to cover emotional pain. In my state of mind, I was losing myself. Help was my next need, but how, who or where does this begin?

Look for my next: My Story My Version: πŸ™My Mental Mess – My Life – My God πŸ™

Until our beautiful minds meet again. Be safe out there. Many blessings and much love. Remember Everyday Minds Matter – Della πŸ’žπŸ¦‹

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