My mind explosion

I’ve been thinking a lot about things. Like hauntings and living a normal life, let me explain my thoughts based on my own experience(s). I never sought out to live in a haunted place. Nor did I want to. The issue with this is, once you’ve lived in one, a home without hauntings may seem…too quiet…and makes you feel uneasy. “Why is it so quiet?” Was my first thought after moving out with my boyfriend. It was creepy to me. We couldn’t even hear the neighbors unless a window was open. When being home alone, it was deathly quiet to the point where I had the television on because if it were off, I would start thinking about my old place. Not because I missed being haunted, but because I was never alone. I was able to hear the neighbors outside and was able to know people are out there living.
It was also weird to me that I could put down a cup or paper, walk away, and it still be there when I return. My night terrors also vanished, and the problem with this is that I also stopped dreaming. The only time I would dream, was when an event was about to happen. I’d see it, wake up, and then hear about it. It wouldn’t happen the way it did in my dream, but it was a similar fashion. Sometimes, I would stop everyone and say, “I’ve seen this before.” It happens to people all the time, but it seems to happen to me more often.
There would be days I’d lay in bed and wonder what my old place is like for those still living there (my family). I wonder if the activity has gotten worse, or if it slowed. Are they mad that I’ve gone away? Or do they not notice because my family is there? Questions, I dare not ask them myself. Occasionally, I’d ask my mom or grandma if things are well there. They say, “everything is fine.” However, there was one time, around October, when everything was not fine. Activity picked up and they had to do some cleansings. Meanwhile, at my place, things were normal.
Every time my boyfriend or myself tell people that I was haunted, they become intrigued. They want to know more about me and they want to understand the feelings I’ve had. They are what I call, “Thrill Seekers”, but they really should be careful of how much “thrill” they really seek. It could be bad, very bad. Every person that is curious about hauntings, I ask, “why does this interest you? Why do you want to know?” Every answer is similar, with the occasional unique response. They just want to know more because they are doubtful. The reason they are doubtful and seek this kind of thing, is because they do not believe in what they do not experience or see. If you everyone can’t or won’t experience hauntings, then it is not real. It is the same with religion, if you ask me, but religion is more complex.
For me, religion may have saved my life. You see, I’ve lived in my old home since I was eight. I moved when I was 25 going on 26. During those years, I’ve tried to block away what I’ve heard and seen. I’ve tried to push these things away. One year, when I was about 14, I told my mother – in the home – that I did not believe in God anymore. I told her that He was not real. She cried but respected my decision. Well, guess what happened next! Since I was no longer under His protection, I was attacked. I woke with bruises and was struck with sadness and anger. The worse part was I didn’t even know why I was upset. I just was. After time, I opened my eyes and realized what I’ve done. I ran to my mom and said, “I believe in God. I do. I know He is real.” She was so happy for me. The bruising went away, but it took time for my happiness to return.
It was weird for me growing up because sometimes, if I wasn’t careful, I would feel other people’s emotions. I would understand why they were upset or sad without even knowing them. It was horrible. So, I tried to block that as well. Now, I moved again (still with my boyfriend), and I can no longer feel what others feel. I have successfully blocked it, but I am still a lighthouse for things unseen. Currently, I have been staying at my old place, because my boyfriend is away on training, and nothing has happened. The only strange thing was that I had gotten bumps all over my body the first night I stayed. They disappeared the very next day. I blame it on the sheets, but who knows? That is not my focus.
The house has an empty feeling to it. A lonely vibe. It feels like someone is so alone and they can feel the house getting more and more vacant. It scares them because they don’t want to be alone. At first, I thought it was my grandma feeling that way, but now I am not so sure. I hugged my grandma and could feel her warmth and happiness. She just retired and is looking to move, so she is excited and nervous about that. She wants to leave but doesn’t want things to change. She wants to live where all her grandchildren can still visit her.
I hugged my mom and could feel her love. However, she also feels trapped and wants to leave the house as soon as possible, but she knows that will take time. She is glad that she doesn’t have to worry about my grandma going to work anymore. She is content with her job but would like more of a challenge. She is bored and wants excitement to return to her.
I said hello to my uncle and could feel his nervousness about the move. He wonders if he should live alone or with my grandma.
None of them felt so empty. None of them were afraid that the house may stay empty. So where is this feeling coming from? I won’t be staying long enough to find out. But we have all been there for so long that there is a sadness we feel when leaving it all behind. A piece of us will always be left behind, and that makes me concerned. Concerned because that piece of me that is connected, is my curiosity for those who move in after. I’ll be tempted to go visit and ask if they like living there. I know I would never feed this temptation, but I can’t help but wonder, what happens to spirits, demons, and other supernatural things when we move out? Do they wait patiently for the next victims, or move on from the place if it’s been too long? My curiosity would kill me if I went to find out.
My conclusion is that humans are far too curious for our own good. People tend to seek things without knowing the consequences. Some people go, expecting the least and arise with the worst. In my opinion, it’s better to let people believe there is no such things as hauntings, rather than show them. It might scar them forever, or worse. Consider yourself blessed if you’ve never seen a “ghost”. It can be a wonderful world, a “gift” to see and know, but for me it’s a curse. Sometimes I am okay with it, other times I want to hide. Be careful, and before you go searching, ask yourself a simple question – What are you scared of more? Things you can’t see? Or things you can see?
Have a wonderful day/night!

Sleep

She stared out into the open window, wide eyed and curious, looking for something that she dare not speak of. “Who’s there?” Her whisper seemed to echo throughout the night. Her room was a good size for a five year old, but she often felt watched. An old woman would linger in the hall, but no one ever saw her the way she did. Her once white gown covered in Crimson splotches and brown muck, and her pale wrinkled face with whited out eyes always seemed so frightening. “Who’s there?” She repeated. No answer. Sometimes she thought about the man who stood outside their front door. No one seemed to see him either, and maybe it was because he only came around at three in the morning. She thought that maybe he was the one scratching at her window.

“What’s wrong?” A familiar voice called to her. She sighed and turned to see her father gazing through the darkness. He was trying to look at whatever she had tried to find. “Did you see something? A bird?” She just sighed again, shaking her head. “Well, whatever you thought was out there is gone. Maybe it was just a bird.” He walked over and shut the window. “I’ll close the curtains for you.” He smiled but she knew they would only open again once he left. He offered to leave the door cracked but she begged for him not to because she would hear the old woman cry. At least with the door shut it was muffled and she could try to sleep better. He gave her a kiss upon the cheek before departing to his bedroom.

She often laid in bed for hours with her hands over her ears before falling asleep. The little boy in her room would always scream at her to get out of his room, but it didn’t scare her. What scared her was his face and how rearranged it was. The back of his head was missing and she could see inside, all the brains and blood just slipping out, and his eye was gone. It was a gaping hole. His cheeks were bruised and arms were scarred. It was as if he were beaten, but by who? She never wanted to find out. She made it a point to just ignore him and not look at his horrid face. She begged her mother for an MP3 player but she saw no need for a five year old to have one. No matter how hard she tried to get one, it never worked in her favor. The boy would shake her bed and pound on the walls, but she was tired of running. She rather deal with the boy. At least he didn’t try to grab her like the woman in the hall.

Sometimes she would fall asleep in the living room because Lucy was nicer than the boy. She actually spoke to Lucy, even though she didn’t look very pleasant either. She had a cut that wrapped around her neck and when she moved her head, blood just seemed to spew out. She was able to get passed that because her arm had a gash so deep, you would think you’d be able to see through it. Lucy was about the same age as her so they would often play with toys and laugh with one another. The boy only left the room at two in the afternoon because the old woman scared him too. She would disappear around that time. He would watch the girls with envy and cause tantrums that she was always blamed for. Lucy didn’t like the boy. She would yell at him and he would yell back. She didn’t do it often because she knew it would scare her. Her and Lucy were great, unless she didn’t want to play. Then Lucy would get upset.

She wasn’t happy about the garage, because the man with the pitch fork would lick his lips every time he saw her mother. She would tug at her and say, “he’s watching.” But she would only laugh and tell her to get in the car, or house, depending on where they were headed. She would see a doctor twice a week and every week the doctor would grow more concerned. “Lucy said she died.” When asked how, she would simply shrug. “I don’t know. It hurts her very bad. I think it was the man.” When asked about the man she would shake her head in terror. “The one in the garage! He must’ve did it!” She would draw pictures of all four of them and knew that no one believed her. She knew something wasn’t right, but she was too young to comprehend.

At age six, they set out to move and she had to say goodbye to Lucy. What she wasn’t expecting was the little boy. He actually grabbed hold of her. She was too shocked to scream. “Please don’t go. I don’t want anyone else in here. Stay!” Her father waltz in and gasped as he saw the boy for the first time. “My name is Johnny.” He whispered in her ear before her father yanked her away and as he turned to run, the old woman stood in the hall. She began to moan as she always did and Johnny shouted. “She’s my grandmother but she’s crazed! She did it! She forgot her pills!” Her father, nearly fainting in terror, grabbed hold of her tighter and ran passed the old woman. Tripping on an old toy he saw Lucy.

“You’re going to have a younger brother. He’s going to make you very happy.” She waved at the girl as her father gasped for air. He ran even faster to the car and nearly threw her in. When he started it up, he could hear a male cackling. Before backing up the car, his eyes were fixed on the old man who was in the garage. He turned to his wife, who was frozen with fear, and looked back at her. She shrugged and closed her eyes.

“I just ignore them.” She stated calmly. “But Lucy was my best friend.” Satisfied that they finally believed her, she fell asleep in the car as her father drove as fast as he could away from the house. It was the best sleep she ever had.

Preoccupied

So, my boyfriend decided to surprise me a couple weeks ago with a ball of fur. He is a Pomsky (pomeranian husky) and full of energy. He has been consuming my time and though he is sleeping in this photo, he is a hurricane.

Teething is not fun.

The biting is not fun.

Potty training is most definitely not fun.

His crying at night for bed is not fun.

However, the love he shares is perfect.

The playfulness in his eyes is heart warming.

The kisses make you forget why you were upset.

The experience is unforgettable.

He is one of a kind and loves winking at me. I swear he did it 5 times now.

He was born December 24th, 2017. My boyfriend got him at the end of March. I must say, he is growing on me and I am in love.

He is the perfect gift for my anxiety and panic attacks. I mean, just look at him!

Winter

I am sick of this snow!!!!

My writing in French is not what it used to be, but here we go…

Prepare for typos and such!

l’hiver est venu, tuant toutes les feuilles. la neige recouvrant les tombes s’étendait sur toute la route. le silence pour ces feuilles, nous laissant à bout de souffle alors que les vents hurlants pouvaient être entendus, pleurant la perte de beaucoup. Pourtant, l’hiver arrive toujours chaque année. l’hiver vient et nous fait si froid, nous mourons à l’intérieur …

Drama

Sometimes I feel like my job is a giant daycare…

When it comes to work, I like to ensure my job is done. If you mess me up, I will say something. When we had a meeting, (I work in operations), I addressed that the returns team keeps losing the labels I make for them. So, the woman in charge got mad and started yelling at me after the meeting. She told me that if I am going to attack her then she is going to tell on me too. I told her that I was not trying to get anyone in trouble. My boss even said it wasn’t too big of an issue because we can come up with ways to fix it, (and I did because I’m amazing and love working), but this woman insisted that she get me in trouble for anything she could find. So, she sends me an email referring to a document, asking me for an update on it. It was number 19 on the list, according to her, and she wanted me to look into it. I went on my list and screen grabbed the information for her. I told her that I had given her a label in January for this order to return to the customer. She printed it out…

Next thing I know, her and my boss are in my office asking me why I sent her information about one order, if she was asking about another. So I asked them what they meant, and before they could explain I opened my list and showed her what I screen grabbed. My boss said that the order number was different from the email subject line order. So I became angry. Do not mess with my job!!! I started explaining and presenting facts. I told her, “You’re holding the paper. Look at what she asked me.” I pointed at the reference she gave me and said, “I have a big list here. She asked me for 19, so I gave her 19. I am not looking at the order number if she references the number of the list.” So my boss turns to her and asks her if she has 19 in the warehouse. She says yes. SO I, BEING NICE AND PETTY say, “Well why is it still back there if I gave you a label back in January?” Her face flushed. She didn’t know what to say so right there I reprinted the label, gave it to her, and asked if there was anything else they needed. My boss turned to her and said, “You are the one that needs to be careful. Make sure you pay more attention.”

Now, I remember I am trying to stay positive, so I plant a huge smile on my face and ask, “Is there anything else I can help you with?” At this point she was fuming. My boss assured me that they were done talking to me and that I was doing a good job. The woman didn’t look at me for the rest of the day.

Yup, very childish people at my job.

Productive

Hello!

So, I have decided to be more productive this year, yet I haven’t done much to become productive. Since I have a small break from school, I’ve decided to start “cleaning out the closet” if you will. I started my taxes (they’re annoying), and I’ve started saving money (I’m going to Disney!).

I’ve missed my blogs so much! As a result, I am writing one! Ever since I’ve gotten promoted to Manager at my job, I have been busy working from home, as well as doing school work. My major is Project Management, (it was English, but I wanted to learn more about the business life so that I can create my own writing business), so I have a LOT of classes that are not my cup of tea. However, I have been trying to practice time management and will start writing more. As it is my escape from this world and the only place I can truly express my feelings without anyone getting too hurt.

Now that I’m getting my sh*t together, I’ve decided that being productive and positive is the way to go! I also have a request from whoever reads this!

I was looking into cutting meat out of my diet to become more healthy, but I do not know where to start. If anyone can help me, as I was reading up on it and it seems very hard. There is a lot of information out there and I just feel it would be easier to read a blog on health and how to cut meat out slowly. Sort of like a step by step. Any recommendations are appreciated, or maybe you have tips you can share with me? I am almost 120% sure I am starting this all wrong. So my request is, please help with this!

I’ve also noticed that more and more people are coming up to me and asking me questions about the supernatural, as that conversation always seems to pop up for me. No matter how much I try it not to, it happens. I just might start talking about it more (even though it isn’t October) but I am not certain if I am fully ready. So be prepared I guess!

Thanks in advance for any suggestions about cutting meat out, and if you have a favorite food please let me know!

BROKEN

It was a leech that destroyed me. A leech who bit into my soul. A leech that drained me from all my power. The feeling of sand just filling your lungs. So dry, yet addicting.

I’m crazy, maybe. I’m stupid, so they say, but this leech had control over my body. He drained my spirit and caused me to feel nothing.

A void inside my heart. A gaping black hole that leads nowhere. The dryest evilest place that was once so pure.

The damning pain within overwhelms my body. The numbness of never feeling trust again. The “What ifs” and the “I’m not good enough” that haunts my head is so taunting my brain could explode.

The attacks so early in the morning, no good morning messages just yelling right from the start. The panic attacks that go unnoticed by his sight because he doesn’t care enough, yet swears he loves.

What does he love?

The broken glass that lies on the floor puts the shock in my heart. I realize that these pieces are parts of me that I can never get back. My body is balding from its emotion and no one seems to care.

I’m forced to put up a wall and act like a perfect princess.

I’m broken and it haunts me every day…

Socializing

Hello!

I’m overdue.

Throughout the week I’ve met quite some people. I was nice and never once did I mention anything about my past or how I portray myself when it comes to certain things. However, every person I’ve met has come to me and start asking me about the supernatural. One, knew that I was trying to block my own knowledge of the subject. The other, just felt comfort in confiding in me.

I started to wonder if I just have that vibe of, “it’s okay to express your feelings on the topic”, or maybe it’s more like, “I know you are like me”. Which ever the case, I am flattered yet terrified. The fact that a stranger and sense me and sense the things I’ve been through or the things I’ve seen, is just a bit overwhelming. One of the people I’ve met told me, “blocking it out doesn’t make you stronger. You have to embrace it and then you’ll be able to control it.” The nervous feeling I got when hearing those words made me sigh. I knew they were right, but I didn’t want to be strong in it. I just want to be normal. As if they read my mind they said, “This is normal.”

Every time I socialize, the subject of ghosts and monsters pops up. I can feel eyes on me, waiting to hear my tails and experiences. Even if they don’t know me, they want me to speak. Most days I keep to myself, but other days – This happens.

I’m not saying this is a negative, but just once I want that small talk about anything that has nothing to do with creepy crawlers. Don’t get me wrong, the topic is amazing and educational, but I would love a normal every day chat about something else.

Just my thoughts for the day. Be warm in this snow!

It’s been some time…

As the leaves fell, my heart did too. In time, when the leaves grew back, so did the love that left my heart.

I didn’t know how to forgive, or love. Only with time my heart fought wars and lost, only to gain strength and build a wall. Only with time did the wall soften and let you in.

It’s been some time now that I’ve fallen so deeply. The crisp air of winter is back again, yet my heart remains soft – maybe even softer than before.

My once scared soul is not afraid anymore. It dances on the edge of time and swims with the sharks. It trusts your heart will protect mine.

It’s been some time since I’ve cried. My tears have gone and my smile appeared. I was broken, torn from my humanity, and now I am just fine. These scars are a gift of how much I’ve grown.

It’s been some time since we’ve fought. We were bitter and now we’re not. Our words intertwine and our thoughts are admirable. No more bickering or crime.

With time all is possible, even though I wanted to die. I’m more alive than I’ve ever felt, and it’s because your heart has finally become mine.

It’s been some time, but we are who we are and we are one…

Cactus

You are my cactus. I want to take care of you and watch you grow. I want to love you and show you how I feel. I want to embrace you and absorb your ways. Yet, every time I get too close, you prick me and it hurts. Each lie burns deeper into my heart. It is like cracked glass when I try and kiss you. When I try to forgive you, I feel the thorns inside me.

The way they move and hurt my heart, the way they sting and kill my vibe. I try to hide. Then I drink the poison and the demon in me comes out. She wants to cut you down, but you are my cactus. I dare not let her. She wants to do the things you’ve done, but I dare not trust her. She wants to have revenge for feeling so stupid. For feeling so low, but I dare not let her. I dare not feed her.

You are my cactus. You give me strength and courage. You give me life and when I breathe in all I want is your air. All I want is you. I try so hard to pull out all the thorns. I try to imagine what it would be like if they were never put there, to begin with. You are my cactus, and I can hug you lightly and admire you from afar. For my safety and yours.

Cactus, all I wanted was you. All I ever wanted and needed was you. I’ve tried other plants to give me the feeling I had with you, and nothing. I never meant “I love you” unless it was to you. I never let myself cry over them. I never wanted anything more in this world than my cactus to love me the way I love you. Sadly, I don’t think it is possible with all these thorns.

And time is cruel. Playing with my head and heart. Time is cruel making me weak. Cactus, there was a time when I pictured myself in the most beautiful white dress and now I picture it blacked out with dirt. Cactus, you killed me and expect me to still be alive.

Cactus, I need your help. You want me to be alive? You want to be with me? Please lower your thorns – Not by words – by love. Show me your heart so mine can beat with it. Teach me the rhythm again…teach me to trust…