I had some sweet gifts as a little girl from the age of four. My mother didn’t know what to do with me when speaking to our dead ancestors. She took me to a spiritualist on the island to get whatever was inside of me out. When that didn’t work she took me to a psychologist. She demanded I stop the nonsense.
So I did. I stopped it for decades. It caused anxiety. It gave me migraines. I was so stumped that my energy was toxic…to myself.
Finally when I moved to these mountains of Western North Carolina, leaving an old life behind, the “gifts”began to unfold. I was in my early 40’s.
I ran to a therapist and asked her to test me to see if I was schizophrenic. I knew I must be. My mother, who had long passed, kept those insecurities alive. I was blessed to have…
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