It took me years to come out of the blogger closet and let my friends offline see my blog, and let my friends online know my real name.
When you put yourself on the internet like this, you become a personality the world watches like reality TV. People judge. People assume.
People have fucked with me and my family offline all because they don’t agree with my post online. When I say fuck with me, they really fucked with me–like they have tried to get me arrested and my kids removed from my home all over a Facebook status. I still say it. <to my haters> Pull up your big girl panties and move the fuck on. I’m not shutting up anytime soon. And stop being so gotdammed petty. Try to get a hooker to clear up your frigid, tight ass. </to my haters>
But good things came out of it too.
Not only has opening myself up online provided me work that makes me feel competent (or at least MORE competent) in my womenhood to provide for my family, but also the experiences gave me the support I needed to do the work and to take care of my family.
You have no idea how important my online community has been to me.
You have no idea how many times I was in a low and the only thing that got me up was the sweetness of people on the internet in private messages and comments and the inspiration of their posts, whether blog or Facebook meme.
I don’t like your Bible Scripture quote memes because I love God and Yay “God!” hit the like for solidarity. No I Iike them because I read them word for word, sometimes 3 times, and cried, “Thank you God. That’s exactly what I needed to read right now.”
I wasn’t suicidal much, but there was a moment where many of you, without realizing it, nursed me through it.
With that said, I’ve been harboring secrets about myself in fear the world would use it against me. In fear they wouldn’t understand. In fear I’d lose all credibility with people.
I live a second life that nobody knows about outside of people I consider family and my shrinks. That’s about to change.
I went to #BlogU recently. They offer classes on blogging, but most people don’t go to learn about Pinterest. They go to meet bloggers for the first time face to face who they’ve been talking to for years online. They go to find new blogger friends and opportunities with people. Learning more about Pinterest is a perk.
I’ve been focusing my efforts on graphic design gigs and Avon instead of blogging, but I wanted to meet Nicole Kane Knepper, my favorite blogger, and one of the first I’ve Facebook met. She is the only reason I went. As soon as I saw she was speaking, I bought a ticket.
I spent the first half of the weekend thinking my writing sucked, and, “I don’t belong here.” It’s easy to do. They read the pieces that won their contest to everyone and followed it with an Open Mic at the dorms where writers, one by one, got up to the mic and read a blog post from their blog. They are all such amazing, talented writers that I just couldn’t help but to think I was inferior.
But as the weekend progressed and I met people who were all, “I know you. I love your blog,” I started to feel a little more confident in my work again. I still think I’m a much better graphic artist than writer, but I love writing. I have a lot on my mind, and it has to get dumped frequently like a garbage can.
One huge piece of trash stinking up my brain was picking at me to dump all weekend. In the back of my head all weekend, even when I was telling myself I sucked as a writer, “You have to write that book. You have to.”
I was playing with a book idea for some time. I don’t want to admit the things I’ve gone through, so I have an outline for a fiction novel based on some of my experiences. I was planning to write it as fiction to hide the fact that it is true, that it is happening to me, and it’s crazy, and I am crazy, and it’s made me crazier. I can hide all that as, “It’s not true. It’s fiction.”
But at Blog U, I knew I had to write it as a memoir because it is a memoir.
I was reminded by all the supportive bloggers, including my Nikki the Queen of Cussin, that it’s ok if you put it all out there for the world to judge and criticize because these people, these talented writers and mothers, will still be there to support me when nobody else will, just like they were as these experiences unfolded.
So, I got home and began plotting to exploit myself to the world.
I started leaving facebook posts like this one (it won’t let me embed from my profile)…
[stextbox id=”black” caption=”My Facebook Status. Hit that Minus/Plus sign to see it and remove.” collapsing=”true” collapsed=”true”]So I collected some more spirit voices today, and I’m trying to make my videos for them, and I’m really sick of the ghost pictures I’m using. I want to do something where I show when the voice happens, and when it’s over. My first thought, based on Canva’s art that I, as an artist myself, refuse to purchase, of drawing ghosts. One sitting on a broken chair asleep with Zzzzs coming out of his mouth, and another awake with BLAH coming out of his mouth. I drew them, and they are cute with ice cream cone heads. I want to hug them. WELL, the spirits don’t want that picture with their voice because they are too cool and sexy for that. I can’t blame them. I wouldn’t want that picture associated with me either. So I need an image to use for these videos, something to go with text that cues everyone on when the voice is happening. Plus, I’m in process of writing my memoirs where I will explain how this happened and life talking to dead people while trying to live. So I need an icon I can brand on that book too, but not be the center of attention on the book. Just something to tie it in with the videos. Any ideas? A lot of the voices are evil, like demons, but a lot of them are also good. Some, I’m not sure what they are. I don’t really want to do a sexy devil when I got something that sounds like angels going on.[/stextbox]
And some people were like, “Wow. Someone needs her meds.” It’s ok if you were one of those people. I would have too if I were in your shoes. Even knowing my whole story, I still think I need my crazy meds. So we’re really on the same page except you don’t know the whole story, and I’m about to change that.
I will be explaining the entire scenario in my memoir, but to try to sum it up… TO TRY TO…
Yes I am crazy. I’m diagnosed crazy. PTSD.
Military rape. It does make me crazy. It makes me drive badly. It makes me respond to stimuli differently than most people. I jump at slight noises. I notice everything. I forget everything. Short term memory took a dump because I tend to live in the memories my brain should have filed away. I miss appointments. I’m always late. And I have issue with sex.
While I am comfortable with this crazy, there are things I hate about PTSD, but that is very manageable compared to what happened next in my life.
Ever since I moved into this apartment, I dealt with some hauntings.
Weird shit was happening in my house like a scary movie, like a toy ball lighting up and talking and rolling by itself across the room… I was sure i was up against a demon, and one of those sleep paralysis moments where you can’t move, and it’s really scary, showed me a demon climbing on my back. I knew it was a demon.
Then he started talking to me.
At first, I thought I was hallucinating like anyone in their right mind would do (see what I did there? Anyone in their right mind would know they are hallucinating).
Eventually, I convinced myself I am crazy, but not because I hear voices.
My house is definitely haunted.
My husband experienced things. My mother who is a counselor has. My friend. My kids. Neighbors… The farm house down the hill from us has had a priest cleanse it multiple times.
The voices? I recorded them. Other people can hear them too…
just not as well as I do, and not on all the frequencies I can hear. In most of my recordings, there are about 5 different conversations going on at the same time, and I end up highlighting the one that sounds the easiest to hear that my husband hears.
I post them on youtube.
Now not everyone hears the recordings. Some of it is because they just don’t hear that frequency for whatever reason, and some because their speakers suck. But I still have multiple people besides myself hearing these things, and that’s all I need to know that I’m not hallucinating.
I’m a Christian.
It’s not that I’m one of those Christians who is going to knock on your door, “Do you know the Lord Jesus Christ as your savior?” but I’ve been forced to become that Christian sometimes because now I know. I KNOW. God is real. He doesn’t come to all the psychics and devil worshippers who talk to these dimensions because you have to seek God. You have to start the conversations. You have to be patient to hear back.
As a Christian who started hearing these dimensions, I sought God. Of course I did. I was scared. I was lost. I was confused. I was insecure. I was depressed. I was all the negative emotions. I needed God.
There were times i doubted God. “Where the hell are you? I got demons here! You are supposed to come and smite these bastards! Make it stop. Where the fuck are you?”
But God is there. God is real. I wouldn’t be here without Him. No I’d be licking walls in a padded room if God didn’t come help me. You’ll see in my book.
The shit I was up against was beyond the imagination of even Hollywood.
I lived a Horror Movie.
I survived that Horror Movie, while overcoming insanity, while raising 3 YOUNG kids and keeping a house, while running my own business, and for the last 3 years you guys have been talking to me online.
Anyway, I have many experiences with this, some crazier than crazy can be. like I’m probably the only person preaching about Jesus to demons.
And as I’m writing this book, I want to prepare for its publishing whether I seek a publisher or self-publish. I want to up my social media numbers, but more importantly, diversify my following. I want to reach the ghost hunters because I think they’ll be most apt to buy my book, and I want to reach more Psychics, Christians, Luciferians, and Satan Worshippers because I have some spiritual insight for those who believe.
I also want to reach the mental health field. I think there is no such thing as schizophrenia. I think these patients are seeing into these worlds. I want to help them come back to us. I want to help them find a way to spend more time with the living and less time with the dead. I want to help them conquer the fears and lies that keep them from living. Our minds can’t handle seeing into these worlds too well, but knowledge is power, the kind of power that can free you from the sting.
Recently I met someone who made me realize I have to write this book. He has voices in his head, and I scared the shit out of him when I was able to quote something from hell. I tried preaching to him too, but I think he has already made his decision.
And of course, some of the spirits are all for this endeavor. Some are not. Some are making requests as I go down this road (like my facebook status).
If you think I’m crazy. Well. I am. But if you think I’m crazy because i’m talking about mythical hallucinations… well your lack of faith is your problem, not mine. And, there’s millions of others like me who pray, who practice the ways of the spirit… They too communicate with these worlds, just not in so obvious of ways.
But I get that this world is scary. I have a friend who too heard the voices I recorded and still thinks I’m hallucinating them. Some of us are probably better off not knowing these worlds exists.
Some of are best off in denial. But I am stuck facing this fear 24/7, and I need to dump my brain of the experience, and I need to try to turn it into something positive.
The way I look at it, the paranormal is a science. The effects of the paranormal is a mental health situation. And all of it is expressed by humankind in some form of religion. I may not discover something awesome to move us forward, but it’s possible the stuff I write about will contribute to the research by the person who does take us to the next level.
So to all my friends and followers, please bear with me. I’ll include you guys in a lot of decisions because I suck at decisions, and I suck at knowing what people prefer.
I’ll probably change the layout of this blog a bit for it, and I plan on adding new recordings of spirit voices after I pick an icon to go with. I’m planning to design a couple icons and putting it up for a vote. I would really love your opinions, your support, and all things good as I venture down the next step of conquering my demons, and that’s conquering my fear to let people know about it.
And on this path, I’m going to sound fucking crazy, but remember, other people hear the voices too. I’m probably psychic, though I can’t tell you the winning lottery numbers, so the whole thing is pointless. I have no idea why this happened to me, but maybe it happened to me because I’m a writer (even though I’m not the best writer) and this is my purpose.
Thank you all for your support thus far. I hope you can understand I didn’t choose this, but I am choosing to overcome it, so be kind with your thoughts about it.
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