Hearing Voices



Hearing voices in my mother's day was electric shock therapy and even worse, hearing the dead now that is another story

It has been an interesting Journey to get here right now, never in my days I would have thought I would be doing this, let alone writing about it.

Where have I come from and where I am going to go to, is a story in its own right, I look back on my life and think wow I survived that, how the….

It hasn’t been easy one bit, boy it has been a roller coaster ride, though they say we learn lessons from it, yes and no, some I repeated over and over again, till I finally gave it a flick.

Where to now, as I giggle to myself, with my coffee in tow as I sit and think.  What am I getting myself into?  The joys of being self-employed for me being time rich and having time, though sometimes I wish the voices in my head would shut up, too much time for them, as I hear a giggle in my head, and a voice say, they will think you are crazy talking like that.

I suppose I am no more different from my mother who heard voices in her head, though they did horrible things to stop hers coming out. I learnt to keep quiet about the voices in my head, though at the time  I personally thought one was talking to one’s self. When I did let on to a selective few, one wishes she hadn’t back then talking to the dead was not a thing one talked about and especially being a Catholic, unless you were talking to God, it was frowned upon.

I think that’s why for years I did shut up or when I did say something like what on occasion I saw in the back yard, to be told I had a vivid imagination, it came in my writings as a young girl writing stories about world war two.  Back then I did not know I was writing stories from past lives I had been in, I only know that now as an adult as I show people their past life in a reading.

Yes, I talk to dead people, God, Angels, animals and my guides and yes they answer back.

I reflect back as a memory pops in about my poor mother as I hold her hand as she is wheeled into the operating theatre for yet another electric shock therapy session at Waikato hospital, to stop the voices, to stop the devil.  My heart is breaking as I think about it, now as the tears roll, even in her 70’s the treatment was still happening.  I remember working at Tokanui hospital, with my mum cringing, not wanting people to find out she was there, and I was not under any circumstances to visit her there while I was working at Tokanui, the thought, the name had such a horrible reputation back then, still does even after it has been closed for years.  Mum always went to the ward where people had nervous breakdowns.

Looking back, not just the voices she heard her journey was not a nice one one bit, that is another story. Heartbreaking and more that I never bonded with my mother, till a probably year before her death at the age 73.

Lot of that has to be due to being, separated at birth from my mother, that was the start of my journey and hearing and seeing voices one could say, God wasn’t ready for me yet, though pushing up daisies would have been on the plans if it wasn’t for him and Jesus leading me away from the light.

I spent six weeks of my wee life been brought up by strangers in a hospital km away, fighting for me to live, while my mum was at home looking after my siblings on the farm in Springdale.

I grew up as an adult feeling abandonment no idea where or why one should be feeling it. till you go through it, you do not realise what it can do to you.  Having six weeks without my mother did it to me, which was sad for all.  I grew up never been able to connect with her.

I have a better relationship with my mother now she is in spirit than I did with her when she was alive.  She comes regularly to check on me, the old nurse in her pops in when I am not 100% or the reminder to look after me as I spend hours working on my business.

She is sitting on the couch now as I am typing, reminding me that Rome was not built in a day, now that is differently another story, as I will explain more in my next blog why she said that.

The voices are part of me, a blessing at times, annoying also when one hears a voice at 2 or 3, as a spirit has no sense of time. So being time rich as my friend Matariki told me, is not always the greatest when someone in spirit wants to visit or much to their delight tell Maggie gal what to do.

So the journey has begun, the doors have opened and new beginnings have already started, man it has taken a few years to get here, I will tell you in the end if it was well the journey or not.


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