1990 - Age 2
Mom: Sydney, where is my, uh--?
Me: Coin purse?
Mom: Yea. You seen it?
Me: Nope.
Mom: Then how you knew what I was gonna say?
Me: *shrugs*
This may not seem like much, but it's one of my mom's favorite stories to tell about my sensitivity. The story about my grandfather creeped out too many of my family members, lol.
If you've known me for long enough, or follow me on the twitters, you have heard/saw me ask the following question:
"What am I?"
And I mean that with all seriousness. I know where I am. I know how I am, kinda. But I do not know what I am. I don't think I'm an alien or a robot or anything like that but Ii have this deeper spiritual connection that I can't place, and I hate it. I hate that I don't know what it is and I hate that it creeps me out. I think I would be more grateful for this gift if everything in society didn't label it wrong or strange and something you should be afraid of. I mean, not that I give 12 fucks about what anybody thinks, but that's now. During my "formative" years, my visions and dreams scared me and I silenced most of them as much as I could. Now it's like the shit is back and it won't be long before I see dead people again.
Where is this coming from? Well, after seeing my friend's dead dog run across her backyard, have countless dreams and visions and the creepiest warning signs of person disaster, I started taking a closer look at myself. After a conversation with my mom when she asked me to read her (and not shadily) and after realizing a psychic used all my power to amplify he's reading, I started wondering what I should look into and learn. But, most importantly, when I start feeling what somebody else is, from a distance away, I freaked.
Now, I've always been able to pick up on the feelings of others and that has dictated my behavior. Some may call that being fake, I call it covering my ass. I don't want to have to deal with anger and sadness that isn't mine. And when my actual feelings are extremely low, I just stay away from people. I can't control my feelings and yours so I am most likely to blow up or break down. Both really bad. Imagine how this plays into me being in crowds. Now, think how I've behaved if you've ever seen me in one... Yea. Sometimes I can manage, sometimes with the help of something, other times...
Where am I going with this? Oh. I'm really grateful for the people who know of my strangeness and embrace it. Encourage it and me to become closer. And no one does this more that my mother. But I guess I want to take the time to apologize to those who don't fully understand or fear it. Not because I'm sorry for what I said or did, or how you may feel about it. Not even that you aren't ready to accept it at all. Hell, I guess I'm not apologizing. I'm challenging you to be open and accept what you cannot hear, see, or feel. To embrace whatever fear and doubts you have with light and love. Be able to accept my visions as what they are and not an attempt to cut down your character. I'm laying part of myself on the cutting board while showing you yourself. And I know you're wondering how I would deal with that. Well, at first I'd be defensive, as accepted/expected. But I readily see my flaws through my own eyes or someone else's. I am open and ready to change, to improve, and maybe that's why my gift has returned. Who knows.
Misfit. Out.
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