I didn’t learn about healthy boundaries in my dysfunctional family of origin. Learning to set boundaries has been a particular challenge for me my whole life. When people acted intentionally mean or hostile, I felt baffled, and emotionally paralyzed. I will help anyone, if I can. If I can’t help, and even if I actively dislike someone, I won’t intentionally cause harm to them. It took me years, and many betrayals, to learn not to trust others indiscriminately with what matters to my soul. It took many more years to learn to set boundaries with people, and to be assertive enough to guard my boundaries while remaining fair and impartial.
I have learned to spot Narcissists, Psychopaths and Bullies long before they see me. I have gone from being a virtual magnet for them, to being someone they simply can’t figure out. But I still don’t fit in to the mainstream, either. According to the Meyer-Briggs psychological test, I am INFJ. That translates to Intuition, Sensitivity, Feelings, with the Judgement to give it concrete expression.
When I was eight my divorced mother re-married. We moved with my new stepfather into a very large old Tudor house. That house would facilitate my initiation into the Other World. The first morning I woke up in my new bedroom, a woman’s melodic voice spoke near my ear. Her words were accompanied by pictures in my mind. She told me if I dug with a shovel in front of a specific rosebush in the back yard, I would find a treasure chest. Since I had to get the shovel from my mother, and explain why I wanted it, I told her I’d had a dream there was a buried treasure box. She was busy unpacking boxes, but got an old shovel for me from the garden shed. I dug with the shovel in the exact spot the lady had showed me. Ten minutes later I heard a clink as the shovel tapped something hard. I proudly carried a small, verdigris jewelry box into the house. I pried it open with a table knife, and it was stuffed with costume jewelry! I was completely delighted. My mother was completely dismayed. She didn’t know what to do with me. Sometimes she looked at me like she was wondering if the babies got switched at the hospital the day I was born. What if she had simply shared my joy? Parents, please take note.
In the hallway on the way to my bedroom was a guest bedroom. The door always stood open. The heavy oak rocking chair near the guest bed sometimes rocked by itself when I walked by that room alone. I didn’t know why it started, and I didn’t know how to make it stop, but it frightened me. I would place my hand along the side of my face as I’d pass that room to prevent my seeing the chair. I think it would have felt less scary if the spirit sitting in the chair manifested, so I could see who they were. It was the emptiness that most freaked me out. Eventually my parents decided to paint and wallpaper my bedroom. They told me they were moving me into the guest room temporarily. I cried, offering to sleep anywhere else, just please, not in that room. There was another much smaller, vacant bedroom available. They moved my belongings into the rocking chair room.
The empty rocking chair started rocking vigorously the very first night I slept in that room. I was so terrified I felt frozen in place. Finally, I bolted for the door, but the door was stuck. The knob wouldn’t turn. My pounding, shrieking and yanking on the door knob finally woke my mother. She easily opened the door from the hallway side, and chided me for my hysteria. The next day I was finally moved into the other smaller bedroom for the duration of the restoration of my room. Twenty years later, I learned that rocking chairs rocked by my crib even when I was just a baby. This from an aunt who we had visited when I was a baby. Why on earth did my mother not tell me that to ease my fear? Parents, please communicate the truth to your child, no matter how weird it seems to you.
My real father died during that same time period. It had been many months since I had heard from him, but he traveled the world widely, so visitation was not predictable. One night my father came to my bedside himself, in spirit, and told me he had died. He shared feelings of sorrow with me, about some of his behaviors and having to say goodbye to me. The next morning I told my mother that my father had died. She seemed distant and fearful, as if I had somehow intentionally misbehaved by telling her about the experience. She admitted she and my stepfather knew my father had died, but weren’t going to tell me about it until a later date, as they “didn’t want to upset me”. (I had an active tick in my left eye during that period of time, probably because of over stimulation by the psychic influx.) But still, it would never occur to me to keep vital information about a loved one from someone I cared about! What about you?
By age 17 I began reading every book I could find about Psi, Ghosts, Dream Interpretation, Clairvoyance, Telepathy, Mediumship, and Intuition. I learned I could set boundaries with those in spirit and set the rules about how and when they were welcome to visit. It is as important to set boundaries around your psychic experiences as it is in the physical world. I learned through trial and error that meditation will crank up the Psi action, sometimes more than I want. I’ve learned I can keep myself from going out-of-body through willing myself to stay in it. After taking charge of the Psi in my life, it became much easier to set boundaries in the physical world. Now, whichever sector I am connecting with, I always feel safe.
Psi has added sparkle and delight to my world, as well as embarrassment and fear. I tried to turn it off permanently for many years, but thankfully that was not successful. I don’t use it professionally. I do engage it to find lost things, and sometimes a mental “push” will cause me to say something out loud, with authority, that I didn’t consciously even know about. The push always comes in response to someone needing help or clarification. But sometimes people don’t want to hear it.
The rural community I live in is very conservative, as is my place of employment, so I am only halfway out of the closet at the moment. But I’m not going back in. I’ve been very lucky. I do have one great female friend of 25 years, who is a nationally known Professional Psychic, and someone I can relate to without reserve. She speaks the language. We don’t see each other often, as there are 300 miles between us. But when we get together the Psi is so intense sometimes light bulbs explode!
I have a cozy home life. I’ve been happily married to my husband and best friend for 35 years. My stuff used to creep him out a bit, but he has adjusted nicely. I think he likes knowing that I can always locate his lost tape measures. We have two grown children, both with psychic tendencies, and three grandchildren. Life is good.