Spiritual Diva Spills The Tea

Could you find enough mercy in your heart to help someone you love in pain take their own life? If you really think about it, could you come to the conclusion that it was the sole humane offering, one last way to tell someone you love them, to assist them in creating their own death. I mean, really think about it. Your answer might surprise you. When Kurt posed this question to me, being an advocate for the right to die, I took thirty seconds to say, "yes".  I paid a friend to shoot me up with Heroin when I was in my late teens. I told him, "you better get the fucking job done." I was sure I wanted to die. Or at least not be in pain any longer. I was coping with a lot. This same friend, a much older man who lied to me about his age, had spent some time "slumming" with me. I offered him a place to stay out of the goodness of my heart, and he led me into a hardcore love affair with Heroin. I don't remember much about my time as an addict. If you asked me...

When I was seventeen I lost my memory. Not all of it, but chunks of it. This was a result of trauma induced by a toxic environment amongst my then peers. Bullying is something that continues well into today's day and age. Little has changed. Bullies will always exist. Sometimes they grow up and pretend that they have evolved over time, but it's impossible to truly change if you choose to ignore the crying child within.  I met a boy, slighter older than me one night, as my friends and I dragged State Street. That's what bored kids do at night in Utah, when they don't drink and they can't get into clubs. It used to be the way we met people outside of the halls of high school. This boy and I hit it off, and we started dating immediately. I can't recall timelines very well, but I think this relationship lasted a year. On and off. We came from different worlds, he and I. He was raised LDS (Mormon), and I was from the streets, Hood. I think this is one of the reasons ...

On June 15th of this year, Chad Doerman, lined up his three young boys, then shot them execution style. There were no survivors.  As a mother to three boys myself, this tragedy struck way too close to home for me. I have been angry, devastated, baffled, and lost in the same question we all have, "why?" The three young boys even physically resemble my own children when they were small. Three small blonde haired, blued eyes boys with bright smiles, who did EVERYTHING together. They were never alone, because they always stuck close to each other. Friends were welcome, but not a necessity. It's that way when you have brothers.  I pulled a little tarot on the boys earlier tonight, asking the most prominent questions on my mind. I can't sleep not understanding how anyone could harm their own children in this manner. There's a sick feeling in my stomach, and honestly, I kind of hate the world today. This is a tragedy, and only a tragedy. There is no silver lining. Nothin...

My first interaction with Kaylee happened a few weeks ago. I chose not to write about it, because the case hadn't been solved yet. I felt that it was far more respectful of me to hang back and let the authorities reveal their findings first. This case was so damaging to so many innocent lives, and I in no way wanted to add to that pain. Even if the people involved never see my writing. I also felt that what I saw was too graphic, and in no real way beneficial to anyone to read.  Kaylee has persistently pleaded with me to write her final goodbye. That sounds so surreal, even to me. My life isn't always boring and consistent, after all. I meant no disrespect to Kaylee by denying her her wish for so long, but I truly needed her to understand that there are certain things I simply will never feel comfortable disclosing. It's like the coroner insisting that the family really doesn't want to see the body of their mangled loved one, because the horror is one that would be life...

When I connected to Jeffrey's spirit, I didn't feel like I got enough information. It was a bit like watching a bad portrayal of his life on some shitty lifetime channel. It was unsatisfying. I wanted to understand him on a soul level. I wanted to know what had "gone wrong". I took a deep dive into his life using tarot and my intuition. And what I found when I did, were the answers nobody else could.  My initial reaction to Jeffrey's energy was confusion, hostility, and a lack of trust. In life Jeffrey was an incredibly apathetic character. He was known for being awkward and bizarre, probably never spending a day truly comfortable in his own body. I mean, so many of us can relate to that, and yet we never did the unimaginable. I wanted to know where and when this child had been broken, and how he became one of the most hated people of all time.  Jeffrey, in death, didn't give many answers as to why he was the way he was. As in life, he claimed that's just ...

I was going to write about my afterlife communications with a notorious serial killer. I thought maybe I could follow in the steps of Bailey Sarien, who is a true crime enthusiast, but from the perspective of being a psychic medium. However, that will have to wait, because I just received some very bad news. I'm literally still reeling. I found out about half an hour ago that a cousin of mine has passed away. I don't have the heart (no pun intended) to write about a man who violently took the lives of others right now. That post is for another day.  My cousin, Misty, is the mother of a boy my youngest sons age, eleven. She passed away five days after Christmas. I literally just liked all of the colorful and splashy photos she posted (and reposted from prior years) of her holidays. Families in matching pajama's. A young cocoa skinned boy growing from toddler to little gentleman. She raised such a sweet little boy, and she should be proud of that. I actually reached out to Mi...

Kailey is whining at my feet right now. I think she's about three. She's a little girl wearing a party dress in a color like pale pink? She seems to want me to pick her up, as if she's associating me with being her mother. I don't know who Kailey is. She may be too young, even for a ghost child, to tell me why she thinks I'm her mommy. When I hear from small children I immediately wonder if she's one of Ricky Mena's (he plays Spiderman for children with Cancer), but I don't recall him writing about anyone named Kailey. She's calling me "mama" now, pulling at the bottom of her little dress. On second thought, I don't think she's over the age of two. Anyone know a Kailey? It's been a while since I last wrote. I've been having an internal argument about whether or not to write only "ghost stories", or to write about my life as a mother, employee, and elderly woman too. I mean, at thirty eight, I have stories to tell, ...