Written by Yoli Lotzaluv
31st October 2016
” I walked into my two bedroom apartment and as I step into the living room, FLASH! I’m blinded by a vision for a few seconds. I mean blinded, can’t see in front of me, have no idea what I’m walking into blinded. I saw an image and felt the emotion so strong. It was a black figure with white eyes crouched under a window in my living room, but what struck me was the overpowering feeling of violence that hit me like a brick”
I suppose like anyone else I have a story to tell, and I will try to share my truth with you the best way I know how. (Shudder) I really do not like this – this sharing thing – this revealing of myself. Keeping my business to myself is something I’ve practiced for as long as I can remember.
I’ll start when I was seven and my mom couldn’t stop throwing up. It’s as good a place as any. In and out of hospitals that year as they tried to find the problem my childhood was spent in hospital waiting rooms since my brother and I were too young to be on the floor my mother was on. I’m not sure when I knew, but I knew my mother was going to die. It may have been when I was around nine – when she stepped out the front door and was lost and confused and had no idea why this little girl was telling her to go back into a house she didn’t recognize. Maybe it was by the time I was around eleven and we got a hospital bed delivered to our home because mom was now what they called a vegetable – whatever that meant.
I only knew she couldn’t walk or talk or eat or even recognize me as her child. I only knew we had to put her food in the blender because she couldn’t chew and she still wouldn’t eat. Maybe it was because I had already seen her die, twice according to my dad, and come back. My sister and I sat dumbfounded as my dad walked in the front door after work, jumped on top of my mom who had just sat down not a minute before and started yelling her name and smacking and shaking her. She ‘woke’ after what felt like an eternity for us but really was only a few moments. Dad accusingly showed us her hands; they were white with purple fingertips as the blood circulated back into them. I don’t know when I knew but I absolutely knew that final year when she was in the hospital more than home. Thinking back I can see the sadness in her eyes even if I didn’t realize it then. I must have though, why else would I have begun praying for God to take her? I knew she wasn’t happy. I knew she didn’t want us to see her that way. I knew she didn’t want to be remembered that way, though I had no idea how I knew all that. So I prayed for God to please take her. When I was twelve, he did. I was relieved. I didn’t have to watch her deteriorate before my eyes anymore. I didn’t have to babysit or feed her or watch as they tried to move her and relieve bed sores. I didn’t have to make excuses for why I didn’t invite anyone over. Most of all, she was now happy and at peace. Right? I began to wonder. Maybe I shouldn’t have prayed for her to die; maybe it was a huge mistake? So I prayed for a sign to let me know my mom was okay. What I got, I have no idea.
It was a strange dream, I’ll spare you the details, but it was a woman’s voice that came through water and said two words: help me. It terrified me. Now at twelve years old I questioned everything. Was she okay? What had I done? Add to that the hell on earth that became my home for the next few years – constant fighting and chaos – my family fell completely apart. By the time I was fourteen, I moved from sadness and anger to hatred and anger. I was so lost in my own head. My desire to feel not-so-abnormal fighting with my desire to tell everyone ‘screw you’ made life… interesting.
One devastating hurricane and relocation later I began my senior year of high school missing the first three months and a year and a half of school credits. I became even more angry. My release was writing and music and as I lay down to sleep I would slip my headphones on and zone out. I was seventeen and this is my first memory of being aware of ‘otherness’ going on. As I stared into the darkness I would see pictures come out of static. Random stuff. Scenery, people, animals, things, whatever. It was like watching a show on TV. I would stare off and let the images come.
Sometimes my eyes were open, sometimes closed. Soon after, I would close my eyes and still see my room. I could look around, see every corner and piece of furniture with my eyes closed. Then I saw a man. It wasn’t a man, more like what the Predator looks like in camouflage from the movie The Predator, all see-through, but I knew it was a man and I knew he was watching me. I looked over my shoulder and saw him leaning against our entertainment center in the living room as I sat at the dining room table. I stared at him. He stood there. I looked away for a moment then back again and he was gone. Just to prove I wasn’t crazy, which I wasn’t too sure about, I got up to look where he had been standing. Would you believe there was a footprint in the carpet where he stood? One solid footprint and the tip of the other that was crossed behind his leg as he leaned back against the furniture. I showed my dad, but I didn’t think he believed me. He was like if I believe it that’s all that mattered. Really? I was seventeen not five. Don’t patronize me.
After that I started to see partial faces at night, right IN my face. I’d be asleep only to be awakened by I do not even know what. I would open my eyes and hello!! An eye staring right back at me! Sometimes it was one or two, sometimes like ten. It got a little crazy and I had no idea what was going on. They were bold, too! At first they were a bit back but the more they showed the closer they came to my face. Then that night happened.
I woke up to see the ‘man’ standing near the foot of my bed and leaning forward as if observing me. I closed my eyes. I opened them again to see many eyes in my face trying to fight for space in front of me it seemed. I closed them again. Opening my eyes again I saw hands being shoved in my face. I lost it. Jumping out of my bed I ran to my dads room and banged on his door. I was crying hysterical, “They won’t leave me alone! They won’t leave me alone!”
My dad came out and sat me in the living room to try to calm me. Everywhere I looked I saw something. A disfigured being on the floor crawling, one dragging what looked like his half a body and reaching out for me. Another midget-looking being walking toward me, another further back limping dragging a limb. I just kept crying. My dad got me settled down and asked what was going on. As I spoke I could tell he wasn’t convinced. It was also like three in the morning but I could tell. He asked me if I was sure it wasn’t a dream. I pointed out what I saw to him and where they were, but the more I talked the more I felt his skepticism, and the more I felt stupid, embarrassed, and like it was my imagination. He told me if I didn’t want them to bother me to tell them to go away. “Tell them to leave you alone, and mean it,” he said. That’s what I did from then on.
Fast forward to my mid twenties… My one bedroom apartment; I felt I was being watched all the time; weird, middle of the night stuff would happen including intense dreams but I always explained everything away. Then my sister and niece came to stay, and my sister saw and heard things without knowing what I had experienced and without telling me until after I moved out of that apartment. There had been times she thought I was home because she would see and hear movement in my room only to look for me and find I wasn’t there. That was like a wake up call and I could see clearly an image. The same image from when I was seventeen of a see-through man. Once again I did what dad told me and told whatever/whoever to leave me alone. At this age I also noticed anyone and everyone would talk to me, telling me their life. I was constantly told I was easy to talk to, and sought out for advice. A common question was how did I know something. I always responded the same, I pay attention.
Fast forward six or seven years… I walk into my two bedroom apartment and as I step into the living room, FLASH! I’m blinded by a vision for a few seconds. I mean blinded, can’t see in front of me, have no idea what I’m walking into blinded. I saw an image and felt the emotion so strong. It was a black figure with white eyes crouched under a window in my living room, but what struck me was the overpowering feeling of violence that hit me like a brick. It was about this time, when I had been having little things happen that I started to say ‘if you’re here with ill-will you are not welcome. Leave. If you’re here with good intentions you’re welcome to stay.’
For the next few years I’d get images, some past some future, that would flash in my face and blind me… I would see black smoke near and around electrical things like my TV, VCR, DVD, the cablebox… I would see white smoke in the air… I could imagine colors around people… Lots of movement and shadows… Crazy looking faces would pop into my head… I had a visit from an old Italian man once but it sounded like he was talking to me from underwater. I could see him in my mind, sitting at the edge of my bed near my head leaning in to talk to me, though I was in something like sleep paralysis and I couldn’t understand him because his voice was garbled.
I was getting flashes regularly and I realized I could influence people’s moods with my energy. Namely my boyfriend’s energy in stressful situations – usually around his family. I could help people feel better by changing my energy. By emitting the desired environment I wanted I could make people feel calm, or cheerful and that sort. I would wrap my energy around my boyfriend when he would get road rage or argue with his family and he would calm down. There really wasn’t a color, just a creamy gold-like stream that connected me to whoever. Around this time another realization also took hold; I took on people’s personalities, which I found truly and deeply annoying! Their mannerisms, phrases, and attitude. Ehh!! I also found I could feel what people felt despite what they said. For instance, words of welcome were overshadowed by a vibe of dislike. It caused a lot of problems when I would remain distant regardless of what was being said to me. According to them I always had an ‘attitude’. Haha. I was also having lots of dreams and had to start keeping a journal of all the madness in my head, heehee. Once in a blue moon I would ask my dad a general question and he would always give the same answer, what do you think? Hm. I also understood when something was off for me health wise. I trusted my instincts. And that’s how it was. I didn’t talk about what was going on, it all just was.
Forward about five years… After my son was born, I was exhausted and worn down by events in my environment. Mostly I didn’t know if I was coming or going. My boyfriend and I had been together 13 years at this point and his family always had an issue with me. There was A LOT of stress from that ongoing situation. I came across a post on Facebook where someone was asking about a photo and what did everyone see. It was interesting but the responses were even more interesting. I remember reading the comments and thinking wow, these are some solid comments for a psychic circle page. So I looked around, then requested to join.
I watched at first. Then when it seemed I broke everything I touched and other weirdness began to take place I asked a question about hexes – my in-laws being Italian they talked of the evil eye, the horns, and that sort constantly and weren’t shy about using them – and asked for some positive energy. John commented he saw something with my eyes that either I wore glasses or could see energy. Both are true. John and MJ directed me to the files and the website, which I found incredibly informative.
I asked another question about what I saw growing up and Tracy lead me to the animal guides which was very awesome and explained some things I had seen. She mentioned a tiger and it was like a puzzle piece slid into place and memories I didn’t know I had of seeing a tiger at different times of my life surfaced. A few months later I saw a post for a class or something where John was helping with energy awareness. As I read through the post I could feel the energy so strong. I was sad I missed it but kept my eye open for the next opportunity. Thankfully I didn’t miss the next one!
That week of classes was incredible! Meeting the angels, Jesus, God…such loving energy and more incredible than I can describe. I remember it like it was yesterday but part of me wonders if I dreamt it! Feeling John and Tee in spirit-form grab hold of my hands, wow. John bringing in my mom… I really have no words for that experience except to say my gratitude is more than I could ever express. I’m still like WOW! That was when I said “I want to do what you do, John!”
Finding out who one of my guides are was so very cool. Then I started talking to my guides and the angels and past loved ones and getting validations and different kinds of images. Things started making sense and I felt a calm I hadn’t ever experienced before. For the first time I didn’t feel like I was supposed to be doing something and that the life we live is an illusion. I still wasn’t sure about connecting for people, though, until my first read. That was a WoW.
I felt so humbled then and each time I have been able to connect and what I said was validated. This may sound conceited but I always new there was more and felt like I was meant to do great things. Now I feel like I am headed in a direction where I am able to do that. There are, of course, plenty of things I struggle with, like meditating, and my ol’ pal, self-doubt. Oh, and with asking questions. I can relate an experience but not know what question to ask.
At times I feel like I haven’t been able to give the attention to all this that I should and it is affecting my progress but, when I do, it is time away from my son who needs me now. Being relatively laid back has helped as I believe what is supposed to happen will and I remind myself of this when those doubts and worries try to creep up. One important point I have learned and that has stuck with me is to not limit myself. Anything is possible.
Also, and very important, just as there are bullies in our physical world there are in spirit. Something that has recently been reinforced. We have to know how to protect ourselves because being a bright light in the dark can draw a lot of good and bad attention.
The more I learn the more I understand that there is so much more to learn and I probably should have more questions but I always believed things that are just are. I accept or don’t accept, deal and move on. Adapt and overcome. It’s not that I’m not ever curious, I just wouldn’t know what I am looking for. If I came across something I wanted to understand I looked it up as best I could. I always take things as they come and try to be aware. One could ask how I can have seen and heard the things I have and just accept them, no questions asked? They always were. I didn’t know anything different. There was a running joke in my family about my dad being a witch. He always knew things. He could say what was going to happen. I always told people he didn’t ask a question he didn’t already know the answer to, so there was no point in lying. As you can guess I’m not a very good lier now. When we would ask for advice he would do this thing; he would say, “let’s throw the ball in the air and see where it lands.” We hated that. It was usually followed with, “don’t be surprised if…” Grrrrr. I don’t think he saw things though, not like I was, or else he did but shut it down. I don’t know, my dad’s not in the habit of giving straight answers….
It wasn’t until becoming involved with #EnergyFlows that I realized what I grew up with wasn’t the norm. When I requested a reading – which was huge because I was the one always saying ‘please, no one come through for me’ – Tracy and Maria did beautifully. They confirmed for me what I was beginning to understand; there were big changes ahead for the better. Now here I am. I am looking forward to what’s to come and while I do feel like a novice I no longer feel lost.
With gratitude and love. This is my story.