angelkie09
New member
- Joined
- Mar 25, 2011
- Messages
- 1
Hi, my name is Angie and I'm 18 years old. I am new to everything, new
and confused. I don't really know exactly why I'm writing you this
letter, all I know is that I feel confused and in a weird way not so
confused after all... That doesn't make any sense I know. I'm still
trying to take in everything I learned on your website. And that's quite
a lot. I also want to share a few events of my life with you, I want to
be open and honest with you, then maybe you could explain and help me
get rid of all the confusion. I was adopted when I was a baby and raised
in a Christian home, but I hated church. I was labeled a rebel because I
refused to go with them. I never felt anything in church, nothing but
uneasy. The people all looked like brainwashed, blindfolded sheep. I
hated it. Something about it all felt wrong.Since I was a little girl,
since I could remember, I got dreams different from the ordinary dreams.
You see, whenever I "dreamt" something, it actually happened
just like I dreamt it, it always happened in the near future. This is
the only dreams I ever got. The dreams itself was in first person,
always, and it was flashes and pieces, images, visions. I could also see
ghosts, I could feel them when I was in the same room or sometimes even
in the same house. I told my mother of my dreams and when it happened as
I said it would, she would look at me in a weird way. She didn't believe
in ghost, but I knew they were there. The ghosts never harmed me, they
were only there. Once a ghost attacked my brother in his sleep, it tried
to strangle him. He told me before about the ghost that kept coming out
of his closet at night, even when he locked the closet. After that
incident we switched rooms. The ghost again come out of the closet, but
it did nothing to me. It was weird, because it never again appeared
after that. My mom was thrown of a bed by the ghost in my grandparents
house, the same room I slept in that night. When it happened I woke, I
saw it, saw him bending over my mom and the next moment she was on the
floor, he (the ghost was a man) then stood in the doorway and just
looked at me. I wasn't scared or anything, it felt normal. I always felt
his presence in that room, but I was used to it. In my visions I mostly
got warnings that something bad was going to happen to a specific
person, and then if I acted on the vision I could prevent it. Whenever I
told my mother about the vision I got and that she must warn the person
that something bad was going to happen, she always looked at me with
fearful eyes, and said things like it was me causing everything and that
I must stop. The dreams was evil. We had constant fights about it. I
considered it my gift, not evil. How could saving a person be evil? I
was born with it and it was a part of me. One night, I woke and a woman
was staring at me from the edge of my bed, her face was inches from
mine. I was startled, but not afraid of her. I was still small, about 8
years old then. I knew she wouldn't hurt me, I felt safe. She talked to
me, but her lips didn't move but I could hear her voice clearly in my
head. She told me to follow her, and I did. It felt like a dream. She
had a lit match in front of her and a black bag over her shoulder, she
also had fiery red hair, I can't remember the style. At first I thought
she was a ghost, and that I was dreaming, but it was real. I followed
her to the lounge area and she sat on the ground. I sat in front of her
and just stared at her, and the match in her hand that she held in front
of her. I got sleepy and the next morning I woke on the carpet in the
lounge. She was gone. I realized that it was indeed real and decided to
keep it to myself. The visions continued. I never had any normal dreams.
When I was about 9 I was raped by a family member. His name was Buddy.
It was a family barbecue. I now only remember everything dimly. After I
struggled to get free for I don't know how long, I was so tired and my
all muscles felt weak. My struggles was useless. For some reason, he
make me asleep on the bed, I don't know why. I struggled to stay awake,
and through the awake and asleep moments, I remember seeing him with a
book, and saying things I can't really recall. Then eventually he woke
me, and then raped me. I never told anyone about it, he told me to keep
quiet and I did. No one would believe me anyway, because he did
everything a good boy was supposed to to. He went to church every
Sunday, always played with the younger children, and to top it all, he
was the pastor's friend. He visited him often. So who would believe me?
I hated him and wished he would die very very painfully, for what he did
to me and maybe even others as well. Eventually he did. Before he could
turn 21. By then I tried to forget about everything and go on with my
life, but when we heard about his death I wasn't surprised. He did die
painfully. It was a car accident and he was stuck, the ambulance never
showed up and he bled to death 3 hours later. My parents and the half of
my family then joined the church in which Buddy was friends with the
pastor. I hate that pastor as well. He was a rapist best friend. Wow.
How's that for Christianity? Then once my mother dragged me to that pig
of a pastor for counseling because of my "evil" dreams and me
hating all the churches. I then told him about my gift, and he said that
it was from the devil and bla bla. We had a fight and I told him it was
my gift and it was not evil and bad, because it was me. He also told me
the woman was a witch or high priestess or something and that she had
put a spell on me. She captured my soul with her black bag. She was also
"evil". Then I said it was bullsh*t because if she was why
didn't she hurt me? He pulled out a file and showed me pictures of that
woman with the red hair in weird places, I lied and told him it wasn't
her. He said that she communicated on a spiritual level or something. I
asked him to tell me more about the spiritual levels. It was clear he
must have had a degree or something in it, the whole wall was covered
with files and drawers where he had pulled that one file from. He
refused to tell me more about it and said that the less I know the
better. I didn't want to know less, I wanted to know more. Why was he
hiding stuff? Why were they all hiding stuff from us? I had seen the
pentagram before in a graveyard. It was the first time I ever saw it. It
was drawn in blood and there were weird shaped around it, like an
ancient writing. I was mesmerized. My skin felt tingly and I thought
about how strong the religion must be. It felt like I was standing in a
very sacred place, not like a stupid church or something, really really
sacred and powerful and strong. It was a weird feeling, but I wanted to
be a part of it. I wanted to be part of something I didn't really know
anything about, but I could feel was real and powerful and there.
Something I never felt anywhere before. It was wow. I once spent an
afternoon with a satanist, Hugh. I didn't feel scared or anything. I
actually enjoyed myself very much, and I felt peaceful and carefree and
alive! I don't know how to explain it, but I know I would never forget
him. Then I asked myself the question, if satanists were so
"bad" and "evil" and all those things they always tell
the people it church, then why was my encounter so different from it?
Why didn't that inner voice go screaming alerts when I was playing pool
and laughing with the "bad" satanist, like it did when I was
sitting in church between the stupid sheep? I wanted to go to a
graveyard on Halloween and see these "evil" things the Satanists
did for myself, because I didn't believe anything that came out of a
pastors mouth. Sad to say I never did get the chance to see it. I moved
out of my parents house after I matriculated last year December. I now
live with my boyfriend, him and his family is very into spiritualism.
She can clean houses of poltergeists and hypnotize people, show them
their previous life and much more. It's still Christian, but I think she
just participates for the skills. I learned a few things from them about
spiritual levels and all, but I can't do any of that. All I can do is
sometimes, when I'm mad or concentrate really hard, I can make things
happen. Like once I was mad at my boyfriend while we were out camping,
and a thorn tree branch hooked his throat, after he struggled himself
loose, he realized that what happened was impossible because the branch
grew in the opposite direction and it was pointed upwards, not downwards
like it was when it had hooked him. Another time, my boyfriend's brother
teased me while he was busy pumping up an aerospace bed with a hand
pump, I got pissed and concentrated in the pump, then suddenly the one
end came loose and almost hit him in the face. Funny thing was, I
expected it. It couldn't have happened by chance because that end was in
at it's deepest. My boyfriend can make energy shields/bubbles to keep
out entities. One time, two poltergeists attacked him in the house. He
struggled to breathe. He was totally freaked out and called one of his
mother's friends, who then cleared the house. She said they were very
powerful and he had to put salt at the door and light a white candle and
stuff. The strange thing was, they did nothing to me. I was in the same
house next to him the whole time. Why? Why didn't they ever attack me,
or hurt me like they do the others? To be honest I'm scared of seeing
ghosts like they always show them on the horror movies. I know they
exist and I absolutely hate watching horror movies where there is any
forms of ghosts involved. I'm always afraid that it would really happen.
I can no longer see them like I did when I was a kid, I guess its
because I grew to be afraid of them. In a way, I want to be able to see
them again, but in another way, I'm afraid of being attacked by them, or
seeing them in their worst forms, like bones and blood because they died
that way. I want to learn to be in control of the powers I may have or
even develop, but I also know out of experience, when you see the ghosts
they see you back. And I don't want to get hurt by them, because how do
you protect yourself from them? If I choose to see I see everything, and
how or who will protect me from harm by them?Who was that woman with the
match? Did she really put a spell on me and capture my soul like the
pastor said? Why didn't she hurt me if she was so "evil"? Why
don't the poltergeists and other ghost's hurt me like they do the
others? Will they hurt me? Why don't I get the visions anymore? I really
want to feel protected. I want to feel alive again, like I felt with
Hugh. Now I feel like my life's passing me by and I'm not seeing
everything I'm suppose to see. Something feels missing, and I don't know
what that is. I'm confused and afraid, but still want to know more.
Because I was raised in a Christian home, I still have a part of the
view they gave me, but I'm trying real hard to get rid of it and get
perspective. I feel confused and a bit scared but at the same time I
feel I should be doing this and I want to be a part of what I felt back
at the graveyard. Please help me, I don't know who else to go to, I
don't really know the difference between truth and lies anymore and I'm
scared. If I have said anything that might have offended you, I
apologize. That is not my intentions. Your sincerelyAngie
and confused. I don't really know exactly why I'm writing you this
letter, all I know is that I feel confused and in a weird way not so
confused after all... That doesn't make any sense I know. I'm still
trying to take in everything I learned on your website. And that's quite
a lot. I also want to share a few events of my life with you, I want to
be open and honest with you, then maybe you could explain and help me
get rid of all the confusion. I was adopted when I was a baby and raised
in a Christian home, but I hated church. I was labeled a rebel because I
refused to go with them. I never felt anything in church, nothing but
uneasy. The people all looked like brainwashed, blindfolded sheep. I
hated it. Something about it all felt wrong.Since I was a little girl,
since I could remember, I got dreams different from the ordinary dreams.
You see, whenever I "dreamt" something, it actually happened
just like I dreamt it, it always happened in the near future. This is
the only dreams I ever got. The dreams itself was in first person,
always, and it was flashes and pieces, images, visions. I could also see
ghosts, I could feel them when I was in the same room or sometimes even
in the same house. I told my mother of my dreams and when it happened as
I said it would, she would look at me in a weird way. She didn't believe
in ghost, but I knew they were there. The ghosts never harmed me, they
were only there. Once a ghost attacked my brother in his sleep, it tried
to strangle him. He told me before about the ghost that kept coming out
of his closet at night, even when he locked the closet. After that
incident we switched rooms. The ghost again come out of the closet, but
it did nothing to me. It was weird, because it never again appeared
after that. My mom was thrown of a bed by the ghost in my grandparents
house, the same room I slept in that night. When it happened I woke, I
saw it, saw him bending over my mom and the next moment she was on the
floor, he (the ghost was a man) then stood in the doorway and just
looked at me. I wasn't scared or anything, it felt normal. I always felt
his presence in that room, but I was used to it. In my visions I mostly
got warnings that something bad was going to happen to a specific
person, and then if I acted on the vision I could prevent it. Whenever I
told my mother about the vision I got and that she must warn the person
that something bad was going to happen, she always looked at me with
fearful eyes, and said things like it was me causing everything and that
I must stop. The dreams was evil. We had constant fights about it. I
considered it my gift, not evil. How could saving a person be evil? I
was born with it and it was a part of me. One night, I woke and a woman
was staring at me from the edge of my bed, her face was inches from
mine. I was startled, but not afraid of her. I was still small, about 8
years old then. I knew she wouldn't hurt me, I felt safe. She talked to
me, but her lips didn't move but I could hear her voice clearly in my
head. She told me to follow her, and I did. It felt like a dream. She
had a lit match in front of her and a black bag over her shoulder, she
also had fiery red hair, I can't remember the style. At first I thought
she was a ghost, and that I was dreaming, but it was real. I followed
her to the lounge area and she sat on the ground. I sat in front of her
and just stared at her, and the match in her hand that she held in front
of her. I got sleepy and the next morning I woke on the carpet in the
lounge. She was gone. I realized that it was indeed real and decided to
keep it to myself. The visions continued. I never had any normal dreams.
When I was about 9 I was raped by a family member. His name was Buddy.
It was a family barbecue. I now only remember everything dimly. After I
struggled to get free for I don't know how long, I was so tired and my
all muscles felt weak. My struggles was useless. For some reason, he
make me asleep on the bed, I don't know why. I struggled to stay awake,
and through the awake and asleep moments, I remember seeing him with a
book, and saying things I can't really recall. Then eventually he woke
me, and then raped me. I never told anyone about it, he told me to keep
quiet and I did. No one would believe me anyway, because he did
everything a good boy was supposed to to. He went to church every
Sunday, always played with the younger children, and to top it all, he
was the pastor's friend. He visited him often. So who would believe me?
I hated him and wished he would die very very painfully, for what he did
to me and maybe even others as well. Eventually he did. Before he could
turn 21. By then I tried to forget about everything and go on with my
life, but when we heard about his death I wasn't surprised. He did die
painfully. It was a car accident and he was stuck, the ambulance never
showed up and he bled to death 3 hours later. My parents and the half of
my family then joined the church in which Buddy was friends with the
pastor. I hate that pastor as well. He was a rapist best friend. Wow.
How's that for Christianity? Then once my mother dragged me to that pig
of a pastor for counseling because of my "evil" dreams and me
hating all the churches. I then told him about my gift, and he said that
it was from the devil and bla bla. We had a fight and I told him it was
my gift and it was not evil and bad, because it was me. He also told me
the woman was a witch or high priestess or something and that she had
put a spell on me. She captured my soul with her black bag. She was also
"evil". Then I said it was bullsh*t because if she was why
didn't she hurt me? He pulled out a file and showed me pictures of that
woman with the red hair in weird places, I lied and told him it wasn't
her. He said that she communicated on a spiritual level or something. I
asked him to tell me more about the spiritual levels. It was clear he
must have had a degree or something in it, the whole wall was covered
with files and drawers where he had pulled that one file from. He
refused to tell me more about it and said that the less I know the
better. I didn't want to know less, I wanted to know more. Why was he
hiding stuff? Why were they all hiding stuff from us? I had seen the
pentagram before in a graveyard. It was the first time I ever saw it. It
was drawn in blood and there were weird shaped around it, like an
ancient writing. I was mesmerized. My skin felt tingly and I thought
about how strong the religion must be. It felt like I was standing in a
very sacred place, not like a stupid church or something, really really
sacred and powerful and strong. It was a weird feeling, but I wanted to
be a part of it. I wanted to be part of something I didn't really know
anything about, but I could feel was real and powerful and there.
Something I never felt anywhere before. It was wow. I once spent an
afternoon with a satanist, Hugh. I didn't feel scared or anything. I
actually enjoyed myself very much, and I felt peaceful and carefree and
alive! I don't know how to explain it, but I know I would never forget
him. Then I asked myself the question, if satanists were so
"bad" and "evil" and all those things they always tell
the people it church, then why was my encounter so different from it?
Why didn't that inner voice go screaming alerts when I was playing pool
and laughing with the "bad" satanist, like it did when I was
sitting in church between the stupid sheep? I wanted to go to a
graveyard on Halloween and see these "evil" things the Satanists
did for myself, because I didn't believe anything that came out of a
pastors mouth. Sad to say I never did get the chance to see it. I moved
out of my parents house after I matriculated last year December. I now
live with my boyfriend, him and his family is very into spiritualism.
She can clean houses of poltergeists and hypnotize people, show them
their previous life and much more. It's still Christian, but I think she
just participates for the skills. I learned a few things from them about
spiritual levels and all, but I can't do any of that. All I can do is
sometimes, when I'm mad or concentrate really hard, I can make things
happen. Like once I was mad at my boyfriend while we were out camping,
and a thorn tree branch hooked his throat, after he struggled himself
loose, he realized that what happened was impossible because the branch
grew in the opposite direction and it was pointed upwards, not downwards
like it was when it had hooked him. Another time, my boyfriend's brother
teased me while he was busy pumping up an aerospace bed with a hand
pump, I got pissed and concentrated in the pump, then suddenly the one
end came loose and almost hit him in the face. Funny thing was, I
expected it. It couldn't have happened by chance because that end was in
at it's deepest. My boyfriend can make energy shields/bubbles to keep
out entities. One time, two poltergeists attacked him in the house. He
struggled to breathe. He was totally freaked out and called one of his
mother's friends, who then cleared the house. She said they were very
powerful and he had to put salt at the door and light a white candle and
stuff. The strange thing was, they did nothing to me. I was in the same
house next to him the whole time. Why? Why didn't they ever attack me,
or hurt me like they do the others? To be honest I'm scared of seeing
ghosts like they always show them on the horror movies. I know they
exist and I absolutely hate watching horror movies where there is any
forms of ghosts involved. I'm always afraid that it would really happen.
I can no longer see them like I did when I was a kid, I guess its
because I grew to be afraid of them. In a way, I want to be able to see
them again, but in another way, I'm afraid of being attacked by them, or
seeing them in their worst forms, like bones and blood because they died
that way. I want to learn to be in control of the powers I may have or
even develop, but I also know out of experience, when you see the ghosts
they see you back. And I don't want to get hurt by them, because how do
you protect yourself from them? If I choose to see I see everything, and
how or who will protect me from harm by them?Who was that woman with the
match? Did she really put a spell on me and capture my soul like the
pastor said? Why didn't she hurt me if she was so "evil"? Why
don't the poltergeists and other ghost's hurt me like they do the
others? Will they hurt me? Why don't I get the visions anymore? I really
want to feel protected. I want to feel alive again, like I felt with
Hugh. Now I feel like my life's passing me by and I'm not seeing
everything I'm suppose to see. Something feels missing, and I don't know
what that is. I'm confused and afraid, but still want to know more.
Because I was raised in a Christian home, I still have a part of the
view they gave me, but I'm trying real hard to get rid of it and get
perspective. I feel confused and a bit scared but at the same time I
feel I should be doing this and I want to be a part of what I felt back
at the graveyard. Please help me, I don't know who else to go to, I
don't really know the difference between truth and lies anymore and I'm
scared. If I have said anything that might have offended you, I
apologize. That is not my intentions. Your sincerelyAngie
