Gifted

Life As An Empath

“As with most stories I started on a path when I was born, a journey that would lead me to many crossroads each, where I would have to choose a direction” - Roxy

01.

I want to take this moment to ask those of you that have decided to read my story and jump down the rabbit hole with me, to take a minute and imagine walking side by side with a stranger you have never met. A stranger that is sharing some of the most difficult and amazing times in her life. A life filled with confusion, questions, enlightenment, isolation and so much more. A story of a young girl that lived through what most people’s nightmares are made of. Nightmares in places where light does not touch the darkness. A place where only a child with a brave heart can emerge and find herself in a world where darkness and light coexist. This journey is one that has lead into the darkest of dreams. Where a young soul did not comprehend what was happening. A voyage into places where perceived nightmares have taken a lifetime to try and comprehend and overcome. Fortunately, as a gifted child she would eventually see the true beauty in the darkness that scare others as much as she saw the wonder in light that people believe in. These abilities are what started a change in the world that surrounded her. A world where she has come to understand both light and dark, pain and love, opposites that can not exist without each other. However, the road that leads to setting the psyche of a person’s being free, can be a long and perilous one.

When an innocent life plagued by a series of events leads down a winding tunnel, life can take some wild turns. These experiences can be overwhelming to a child and seem like an eternity before a childling is able to emerge from the chaos and find her way. Each time one tunnel ends, more appear, with illusions of escape. But this labyrinth leads down path after path to different destinations, a crazy multi intertwined universe continually crossing within dreams and visions that seem inescapable. Most of these twisting tunnels lead nowhere, just a dead end. Others tunnels lead to places that do not have an explanation, much less to a young girl looking for a way out. These empty, endless tunnels seem like vacant spaces where time is lost, where life has become convoluted between a waking dream and a living nightmare that feels inescapable, a realm of confusion that becomes difficult to distinguish from reality. A dimension that exists in dreams beyond understanding, where the very existence of life is complex, where the human soul is a desire for the living, and the inescapability of death plagues the mind. This was, has, and is my journey in this life. My experiences were the ones I was destined to live. Incredible experiences that I want to share with you through memories of my childhood, stories of other realms, experiences of alternate universes, and dimensions where everything and anything is possible.

Hello, my name is Roxy. I am an agnostic empath. I know those words don’t go well together, they actually look as strange to me as they probably do to you. I typed them out and left them here because those two words are simple and direct, which is like me. As you take my hand and leap into this unknown world, I will show you the many bridges I crossed, some that were not even fit to cross, some that shook me to the core, others that helped me find myself. Somehow I made my way across each and every time. I do look back sometimes and ask myself, should I be upset, should I be angry, was life even fair to me. Then, I look up and stare at the stars and ask why, I set my bare feet in the grass and ground myself reminding myself that every challenge I have faced has brought me to where I am today.

Standing at this next bridge in my life, telling my stories, I know I have another journey, across another bridge, that will bring reminders of my past and the nightmares I lived alone. Memories I know that will come rushing back and remind me of how painful telling my story will be. We all have stories and many will die with us when we leave this world, which is why I chose to share mine. I may forget some or some maybe too painful for me to relive, but once I start to cross this bridge the path on the other side that follows may lead me closer to an ending that I will be ok with me. Now that I have chosen to put my first foot forward on this wooden bridge in front of me, an unstable swinging walkway that I need to cross. I know I will not turn back. I have no idea if one of the rotted planks, these pieces of my destiny, will give out beneath me, but I can’t be afraid. I know it’s a choice, a choice that is nothing more than one of many choices. A crossroads met with challenges. Now standing at the edge of my bridge, holding the ropes in my hand I am reminded of how hard I will have to hold on so I don’t fall. Staring ahead I contemplate what lies beyond. But I have made the choice to cross, focusing on the road that lies beyond the other side. I take my first step closing my eyes, take a deep breath and don’t look down.`

Don’t get me wrong, I still feel fear, I still struggle with demons from my past but I have come to accept what was. My tears no longer represent weakness, they represent kindness, caring and the compassion that exist within me. I learned when my world burns down around me that I rise above the ashes and become the Phoenix I am, rising above the chaos and confusion. This is just the beginning of my evolution. I can see through the fire that blinds and view our existence in this complex world. Living in a paradox of multiverses with secrets that have eluded scientists throughout the ages, a universe that expands beyond what we can see, where space and time collide, and a spiritual world coexisting in dimensional worlds. A reality that I see, a reality that exist, a reality that most know exist. I want to share, my reality, my dreams, and my nightmares with those willing to take my hand and venture down the rabbit hole.

“The more I learn, I realize how much I don’t know” - Albert Einstein

Sitting on my bed with my computer I am typing out my life on a keyboard, watching my words come to life on a screen in front of me. Staring at my laptop and sometimes staring at shadows on the walls, time slows down for me. The realization of what I am going to share does scare me. But I know it is what I am supposed to do. There are others out there like me afraid to share their experiences because of how they will be looked at, and I hope my stories will bring a little bit of normalcy into someone’s life. This is the beginning of putting myself out there. When I first decided to start this project it seemed like an eternity before my fingers moved, before my hand could allow me to move it and touch the first keys on my computer that would spell out the next chapter in my life. They were simple words put together allowing me to create a world I want to share with you.

Time is a precious commodity that is limited. Knowing how precious time is I thank each and everyone of you for choosing to spend part of that here with me. Hopefully the path that I am forging forward with will be the start of a road, a road created by those who are not afraid to go beyond the fear and help lay down the stepping stones that will create a walkway into a future of open mindedness and understanding. I learned to hide behind a masque to shroud who I am. But as time went on I felt I could not breath behind the masque I was hiding behind any more. The shadows I hid in caused me to suffer, always afraid of what others will think or how they would react. I reflected on the possible consequences of how this revelation will affect my life, my family and everyone around me. Then I decided that I was tired of living everyday behind my masque and needed to find myself again because somewhere along the way I lost me. My desire in life is freedom to be who I am without judgment, a life filled with dreams and desires that make the possibilities of this world endless.

“The idea of 10 demensions might sound exciting, but they would cause real problems if you forgot where you parked your car” - Stephen Hawking

My first experience with the other side when I was about six years old. Ever since then I continued to experience the beginning of my gift, or my curse,depending on who you ask. My gift gave me the ability to feel the emotions of those around me, but not just people that are alive but also those that exist in another realm. Through my life I struggled with being myself and always felt I needed to be what others wanted to see. This was fine until I broke and my life went into a spiral. understand or are willing to accept. Fear, I believe, has been one of the biggest factors that keeps people from learning more about the realms that exist side by side with us. These planes that exist side by side with us and have been with us since man took his first breath. Personally, I sometimes feel that the world we live in is just as many brilliant scientists have mapped out for us from Albert Einstein to Stephen Hawkings, we live in a world full of dimensions where anything and everything is possible. So within these realms there is the possibility that people like me exist, or if your a Stephen King fan you can call us the ones that shine. And there are those of us who explore what we believe to be the realms that exist within our worlds. To journey beyond what we have been taught to believe or fear is something few people are willing to do or even be open minded enough to entertain the thought of all the infinite possibilities that are out there.

With the creation of organized religions man has created something to make themselves feel like there is some control of what happens to us when we die based on each individual religion and what their scripture says about life after death and what the consequences or benefits can be for each individual based on how they live their lives while they are alive on this planet. The way I have seen it over the years and working with people of all different faiths I have come to the understanding that fear is how our world decided to control countries and nations throughout time. This has been an effective method that has prayed on mankind for centuries. Fear of the unknown is what keeps us awake at night but if someone can give the people something to believe in and promise that there is salvation at the end of our journey here then, just then, each one of us will be able to go to sleep at night feeling that everything is going to be just as it is written in scriptures. Now let’s imagine for a minute that man being the fallible creatures that we are got it all wrong. What if everything that has been written and passed down for centuries was just simple misinterpretations. Or the possibility that what was written as the law of god was used as a manipulation tool for each religion to create an environment that indoctrinates believers to follow blindly without question. Unfortunately for me the era I grew up in and the faith that I was indoctrinated into had a unique way of trying to mold those within their flocks would never accept who I was and still am today.

As an empath I was treated differently as a child because only those with afflictions of some demonic presence could do what I did. None of it made any sense to me, I didn’t feel different than anyone else and I didn’t look different than my peers, however, I was different than them and it took me years to sort everything out. As I grew to understand more about myself through some very hard tribulations in my life. I finally came to accept the person I am today and understand that being unique isn’t bad and I am ok with that today. So, to understand what an empath is it's important to understand their ability and how it affects them. I will only speak for myself but I know many of you out there like me will understand the plight I went through to arrive at the acceptance destination where I am today.

When I am around people I absorb their emotions. That is the best way I can describe what happens to me. It does not happen all the time but when my radar goes off there is very little I can do to stop it other than to try and control what starts happening to me. This emotional overload will come at anytime day or night from those that are reaching out. Their emotions are projected into me and I slip into their world. This when our worlds collide, or call it dimensions if that is more comfortable for you. Either way a bridge between our world and theirs opens up reach out to me because they know I can hear them others unintentionally can enter my world with the simple fact that they are looking for help. These emotions can come from the world you and I live in and understand as our reality, however, sometimes those emotions and feelings that I pick up are projected from somewhere else, a place that I can’t really tell you for sure what or even when its from. When those overwhelming sensations that are haunting people either here or there are projected on me I can feel what only an empath can feel. I can experience someone’s pain physically like a gunshot, stabbing, or assault. On an emotional level I can feel their sorrow from loss or a broken heart from the loss of a loved one especially the extreme mourning of a child. In death I can experience the last moments of their suffering and the fear of what is to come, the heart stopping moment when someone feels their life leaving this world and does not want to die even though they know that what’s happening is inevitable. And for those that left this world feeling lonely and abandoned their emptiness leaves a mark so deep in my being because no one should ever leave this world feeling unwanted. The worst for me to experience from those who seek me out and find their way into my dreams at night are those spirits that are angry and hurt. Hurt people, hurt people and hurt entities do the same. I believe that the anger from those that have passed and feel an overwhelming sense of injustice lash out at everyone around them. As an empath I try to leave myself open to hear their stories and be there as long as I am needed or wanted. Now, I have been asked why is the reason that I pick up on so much more of anguish from those that have passed and not the joy and happiness that also surrounds us. Well, I personally think that is because as sentient beings, here or there, our nature is to seek some type of resolution to a suffering we might be experiencing be it real or imagined. No one looks for someone to hear them out when everything in life is going great and life is a beautiful bed of roses. As people that experience so many different aspects of life we are ok when things go like we think they should. But when life hands us a hand that feels impossible to cope with everything changes. That’s when we look for someone to hear us because we need a shoulder to cry on or just lend an empathetic ear to hear what happened and understand what is going on or why is this happening. As an empath that is what I do, it has always been what I call my primary gift. But just like in medicine and psychology, in the world of the paranormal, those of us that are gifted also have other abilities that come with our primary gift, comorbidity.

I often get asked what do I mean by that and I like to use sports as an analogy. Being an empath is not the extent of my abilities. I do have other gifts that came as a package deal, they just are not as strong as the abilities I have as an empath. For example, Micheal Jordan, an all time great in the NBA, went onto play baseball during a hiatus from basketball. Jordan was good at baseball, better than most, but nowhere near what he was as a basketball player. Basketball was MJs primary gift. (Just wish I got paid as much as him! lol) At times I do experience other aspects of the paranormal world that don’t necessarily have to do with my empathic abilities. I would have to say seeing things happening around me and in extremely rare cases actually see someone that maybe wants me to see them. I do see things on occasions, not regularly, but enough in my lifetime that I can say this is one of the side gifts I have. The other one is that I can see what will happen in the future but only hours if not minutes before the event. These future visions will only come to me in my sleep when I am dreaming and my subconscious mind has taken over. In these vision of what is to come or in some cases has already happened, I will feel the emotions of the people involved and can feel what they are experiencing at the time. I will share some of these experiences as we continue our journey together. I truly appreciate the way times have changed allowing people to come out about who they are. I know I will get people that will be mean and spiteful about this but more importantly I am writing this for those of you who like me never have had the opportunity to come out and share your experiences and maybe even your gifts. You know Micheal Jordan wasn’t the only NBA super star.

Being an empath and having to have been silent about my gift for 45 years I finally decided it was time to share my stories and my personal quest with others. That’s why in 2018 I started a paranormal investigation group. Some of us on the team are gifted and others are not. But this actually works well for us as a group because we have members that are dedicated to documenting evidence, providing security, research historians, and of course the investigators. We had our challenges starting out but have learned a lot along the way and I am sure we still have a lot more to learn. Some have questioned my sanity, others have demonized what I do, and some fear the unknown, and of course then there are those that believe what we have documented with the supernatural and my team is all a hoax. I understand that there can be consequences to myself as an empath and even more so today since I decided to become a Paranormal Investigator. I guess the answer for me is that I just need to know who they are. Are they ghost, spirits, angels, or demons? Could there be some kind of dimension running parallel to ours or multiple dimensions as some scientist have proposed, one of them being Stephen Hawkings. Others have even suggested the possibility of alien interaction. At this point in my life what I have come to believe is something out there can coexist with us here and has the ability to interact between realms. Whether our reality or their reality is the one that breaks the barrier of communication, I am not sure. But if I quiet my mind and listen then sometimes I can hear and see them.

I thought about the questions that people had posed to me about being an Empath and a Paranormal Investigator and thought back on a trip I took to Boston while investigating the Lizzie Borden House. While I was there I went to The Museum of Science in Boston, Massachusetts. The building was huge and covered just about every area of science you can think of. One section, in particular, was very memorable for me. It was the part of the museum that covered space travel. The space section had everything from shuttle simulators to interactive activities for the guest so they could experience everything from weightlessness to experiencing what moon rocks feel like. In one small nook of the room, there was an area that caught my attention. There was another interactive project you could participate in. Here you could pick up a small red coin and drop the coin into one of two long plastic tubes, similar to a piggy bank, the tubes where about 2 feet in height. One of the tubes was labeled “NO” and the other was labeled “Yes”. Above the cylinders was a question, “If you could be the first person to go on a spaceship to Mars would you go?” The tube with the answer “NO” on it was completely filled to the top with no more room to drop any coins in while the tube with the answer “Yes” had just a few coins in comparison. Guess which coin I dropped mine into. Now ask yourself if you could be the one to discover life beyond us would you be willing to take the risk every astronaut takes when they board the shuttle? Being afraid of the unknown is normal because what we do not understand can be frightening and send us into some of our more primal emotions. Feelings like being afraid of the dark and our need to survive. I guess a simple way to answer “why I do what I do” is because part of me just needs to know what is out there, while the other part of me knows this is a journey I must take. And of course, there is always the thrill of the ride.

Chapter 1
Childhood

As a child, I experienced many things that to me at the time did not seem unusual or out of the ordinary. My experiences were just part of my normal day. However, as I grew up and started to talk about what I was seeing and experiencing not everyone around me felt the same way about my gifts. Being from a Catholic background in the 70s this was something that was deeply frowned upon. I went from being put in Catholic schools to being expelled from them. I am one of the lucky ones (lol) that actually got to experience an exorcism! Then later in my juvenile years, the mental institutions came into play. I look back on that now and I no longer blame anyone for what transpired at that time in my life. That was all part of the journey I had to take to bring me to where I am today. Let’s start this chapter with my childhood.

My very first recollection of having a paranormal experience was when I was probably about eight years old playing with my cousins in an old mansion that my grandparents had converted into a school. The school was located in a small city called Victoria. This beautiful little town was located in the south of Mexico. My brother and I used to visit my grandparents every summer. I always looked forward to our visits to Mexico for so many reasons, it would take me most of this book to list them all. I loved visiting this wonderful school with its large wooden doors that swung open with the sounds of creaks and years of use. They were always locked down at night with a huge wooden bar that secured both doors. The doors always reminded me of an old castle, barricading itself from its enemies. We used to love playing all sorts of games in the courtyard and would entertain ourselves for hours. I would say that the thing my brother and I mostly enjoyed most was seeing all our cousins and participating in the summer programs that were run at the school by my aunts and uncles. The school always brings back warm memories to me, but not so much for others in my family.

The original construction of the building was something I truly marveled at, the entire building was designed like a courtyard, similar to the castles of medieval times. All the rooms were built around a large square area which was originally designed, I imagine, for entertaining guest when they would visit the mansion. However for my brother, my cousins, the children at the school and myself this was an area where we could play out our dreams and fantasies. This old mansion’s courtyard served as our playground where we could let our imaginations run free. Besides the courtyard, there were so many other fascinating areas of the school. For example, there was a room we called the piano room. This room was located at the front of the school next to the main entrance. The entryway was impressive with massive hand carved wooden doors and large gargoyle style knockers. Everyday school was in session these doors would be barricaded. When we went to class in the piano room we would have to walk towards those enormous doors that were adjacent to our music room. We would enter from the courtyard when the bell rang and classes had started. The piano room had two small balconies facing the front street with just enough room for two of us to stand there. I recollect that the balconies were probably about three feet off the main sidewalk outside. Sometimes we would go and watch people walk by, or talk to our friends from the balconies. The piano room was the only room in the entire school that had a wooden floor, which is why I am assuming we had our music lessons in there, so the sound would not echo off the concrete floors. The rest of the school did not have wooden floors. This room had a significant impact on the paranormal activity in the rest of the school that we all experienced over the years.

Once you exited from the piano room you could see across the courtyard to the living quarters and the kitchen. There was a staircase that led to an upper level with several rooms where we all stayed. There was also one unique spiral staircase that led from the second floor up to a solitary room. This small room must have served as a watch tower at one point because you could see everything in the surrounding area from this room. This upper level at the back of the school was used as private housing for my aunts, uncles and the rest of the grandchildren. From this upper floor, you could see all of the school. Directly across from that level was the kitchen where all our meals were prepared. Facing towards the front of the school you could see across the courtyard to the majestic wooden doors, which were always secured at night. Directly below our living area was an additional level that was below the courtyard. From our living quarters to the final level there was approximately one and a half levels down. In this area was an above ground swimming pool, which I never got to use because it was always empty when we visited. I think my grandparents kept it empty so no one would drown in the pool. This pool area was in between the kitchen and our rooms. The pool area was also at the back of the school’s courtyard. My brother, cousins, and I could access the pool area by going down a few steps. In this area, there was a storage space located below the kitchen. This is where the school kept extra supplies. Here, in this pool area, is where I experienced my first encounter with the supernatural.

One day, as my cousins and I, were playing with a soccer ball around the pool, the ball rolled toward the storage space underneath the kitchen where the supplies were kept. I ran after the ball to retrieve it. The ball finally stopped right in front of the storage area below the kitchen. This storage area was closed off by a small, makeshift, wooden door that was secured with a metal lock. The storage area was probably about three feet by three feet and maybe 8 feet deep. The wooden plank door, that looked more like a renovated palette, was used to secure the area so the children would not go in there to play. As I bent down to pick up the soccer ball, there between the old slatted boards, I saw a small, dark, shrouded figure hiding in the storage space staring at me. I could not see her very well because her silhouette was not very defined, but I could make out that the figure was a female. She was crouched in the back of the storage area where there was hardly any light, I could feel she was afraid.

I think what caught my attention is when I bent down for the ball, I saw movement. As I got closer to look in, I put my hands on the slatted plank door, and then I saw her soft, sad eyes. She was squatting down on her heels rocking back and forth staring straight at me. For a brief moment everything was eerily quiet. All I could sense was her. I could feel her desperately reaching out for help. Her eyes were glowing a light, iridescent blue. I could feel them penetrating into my being. I just stared back for a moment, mesmerized by what I was seeing. This tiny, dark woman scooted closer to me and I felt something very strange happen, a brief cold swept over my body. Suddenly, I could feel her sadness, her pain, her anguish. These emotions swelled inside of me until I felt as if my heart had shattered in a million pieces. At that moment, I knew her. And I also knew the child, she loved so dearly, and had lost. For an instant, in time I felt a sense of loss, hurt, and pain. Every emotion she experienced watching her child leave this world and her behind. But it was only for a short time before she too also joined her child in another place. Slowly, she glanced down at the floor, and then she was gone.

Years later, my grandparents sold the school and moved. Then I heard the stories I had not known before. The most intriguing one was the piano room, the only room that had wooden floors. This room turned out to be very unique because beneath the polished wooden floor there was a secret door that opened up into the room. The trap door blended into the room and was hidden from sight. This door led to a dark, musty crawl space that was used as a hideout by the Mexican revolutionaries and their families during the civil war. I can only imagine the fear they endured while hoping for freedom and praying they would not be found. For reasons unknown to me, this sad woman was still there. The mother with her small child hidden away in the damp, darkness, silent tears falling to the ground that would mark this place forever. Based on my experience with the female figure underneath the kitchen in the storage space, and countless other family members tales about the haunted school leads me to believe not everyone who used the mansion for sanctuary lived to see anything past their executioners.

A few years later, when I was approximately ten years old, I started to have more experiences with the paranormal that had a profound impact on my life and how I would define myself in the future. One pivotal point in my life was when I started seeing a young boy who would appear to me in my room and talk to me. Not talk to me in an actual voice but through images, I could see in my mind. I used to sit on my bed for long periods of time and just talk with him. This made everyone in my family or anyone that stayed with us nervous. My relatives were sure that because I was talking to a spirit or myself meant I was either possessed or possibly insane. The situation began to cause a lot of friction in the home between my family and me. After a few weeks or so of communicating with the boy, I felt the need to start writing everything down he was telling me. I am not really sure why, but there was almost a calling to do this. My mother became increasingly worried about me and the time I spent alone in my room talking to someone who she could not see, nor could anyone else. By this time my conversations with the young boy had escalated into transcribing our conversations, or at least that is what I assumed they were, things were reaching a breaking point with my parents. I really do not have any recollection of writing in my journal to this day other than sitting at my desk, waking back up and I had several pages written. I do remember that the things I wrote down came from the young boy. Unfortunately, all of my writings were destroyed during some prayer ritual the church performed on me. This ritual was some type of non sanctioned exorcism.

Once I began to write in my journal, things got really strange for everyone around me. Myself, I was not afraid or felt I was doing anything wrong. I had a friend no one could see, hear or understand other than me. I would wake up in the middle of the night, much like I do to this day, and would just start writing. I had no recollection of what I was journaling or even what it meant, but I knew it was important for him. When my mother found me one night awake at my desk writing in a journal, she leaned in my bedroom door telling me to go to sleep. I did not respond and just kept writing because all I could hear in my mind was the boy’s voice projecting images to me, so I just kept writing. She called out to me a second time and the response was the same. My mother became frustrated with me and thought that I was not listening to her. She walked into my room to the desk where I was sitting getting ready to scold me for not responding to her. As she approached my desk she looked over my shoulder she noticed something strange, nothing I was writing made any sense. The letters were not being written in the Modern English alphabet but in Latin Script. At ten years old, I had not even finished perfecting the English language much less Latin. Disturbed by my writings my mother took my diary to a local priest. They had a meeting in the office at the church while I waited outside sitting in the pews. The priest explained to my mother that he was also disturbed by my writings and talked with her about doing a prayer ritual, which to me was very similar to an exorcism, just not sanctioned by the church.

After this meeting at the church I was taken to a house where there were adults all around me waiting to do this prayer ritual. I was simply a scared child with no understanding of why they were doing this to me. They sat me in a chair and began the prayer ritual, or exorcism, as I recall that day. The people that attended this ritual were all walking around me and praying while sprinkling holy water over me. Then came the prayers accompanied by the smoke from the thurible. ~

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