Be Careful Who You Trust

Tales Of A Psychic Junkie 4.jpegMy whole life I have attracted needy people who do nothing more than drain my precious energy.  Having this spirit of always wanting to help or take care of people led me attract strays. We are all like this in some ways, especially if we are givers.  Givers by nature attract takers, so we must be super careful to make sure that we don’t allow toxic people to slip in under the radar because we are so blinded by our need to help or save them.

It is not just intimate relationships that bring these people.  Toxic people can come in all different forms: a parent, teacher, employer, friend, lover or partner.  I have had so many one-sided toxic friendships, it was almost comical.  Whenever anyone entered my life, it was just a matter of time before their true colors (and motives) would become clear, and I was desperately trying to figure out how to rid myself of the trash.

A few years back I had come to meet a woman who had just broken up with her boyfriend, and was in the midst of a horrifying fight with her best friend.  She asked if I would want to meet her in midtown for lunch and thinking we had a bit in common as we were both actresses, I went.  The entire time all she did was complain to me about her friend and how mean she was, etc.  I was okay with it, because 1, people need to vent. 2. They always seem to feel like venting to me (must be my face) and 3. We all have moments when our friends piss us off.  It doesn’t’ mean we don’t love them, it means we are simply annoyed at the very human thing our friend may have done.

I didn’t’ think much of it and went on my way.  Over the next few weeks this young lady was attached to me like flies on shit.  She called me every day.  We met for coffee, lunch, dinner, drinks (even though I don’t drink) I saw more of her than I did my own reflection and being a Leo and often times very vain, that is saying a lot.  I started to notice that every single time we hung out she would bad mouth people.

Feeling uneasy about this fledgling new relationship, I found myself sitting in a small boutique shop on the lower east side getting a reading.

The woman before me shuffled the Tarot and laid out my cards.

“You must be careful who you trust.  All around you are not friends.  Make sure you dot your i’s and cross your t’s because otherwise you may find something you have given is lost”


Hmmm. I thought.

“There is someone (a woman) around you who feigns friendship because she wants something from you.  She continued

“What does she want?”  I asked

“It looks like she wants you to help her in some way.  It will be revealed to you in time, but be careful.  She is not a woman who chooses her words wisely.  Slander and gossip fall from her tongue easily.  She is surface, nothing lies beneath.  Vapid and self-centered.  This is not someone you want to have in your life and if you persist the Universe will remove her.”

I thanked the woman for the reading and went about wandering the streets of NY for the next two hours pondering what she had told me.

A few days later that young women finally asked me.

“I am writing a screenplay.  I was hoping you would direct it.”

Now this wasn’t a horrible request, as at the time I was always looking for new projects.  So I set off without another thought, or a contract.

For weeks we worked on her project. I rewrote her horribly written screenplay into something interesting and compelling.  All seemed to be well until one day I just stopped hearing from her.  She would not answer any calls or emails.  This parasite that had become another appendage on my already slight frame had all but amputated herself from my life.  It was as if she’d just dropped off the face of the earth.

Months went by before I understood what had happened.  This young lady had taken what we had worked on together and shopped it around to another director.  She then proceeded to bad mouth me to everyone she met, many of whom told me about it albeit it months after.  I was devastated.  What had I done?  Where had I gone wrong?  Then, I remembered:

“You must be careful who you trust.  All around you are not friends.  Make sure you dot your i’s and cross your t’s because otherwise you may find something you have given is lost”

There it was.  I had not heeded a warning that came to me almost six months before I had made that stupid error.  We all attract people into our lives who are not always the best for us.  We tend to know it immediately, but rarely listen. There are a few things you can do to rid yourself of toxic energy when you find yourself overwhelmed by it.   I’ve written about a few of them in ,7 Home Remedies for Clearing Toxic Energy.  I find that these work wonders and can help gear you to the right vibrational matches.

I had learned a lot from this experience.  From that point on this psychic junkie was no longer going to simply trust anyone… I was going to learn this lesson, although it would take me many years to actually get the hang of it and I am still no where near mastering it.

Keep Seeking,





A Strange Prediction

Blog Post 5

During my limited time in college I became drawn to ballroom dancing.  I tell everyone I’ve ever spoken to that ballroom dancing saved my life, and I maintain that fact to this very day.  I taught at many prestigious schools throughout my early twenties.  As part of the packages sold to customers, a Friday night dance was included.  it was a time where students could put into action what they had learned.

While at one of the Friday night dances I was approached by a rather odd little women with a sweet smile.  She said her name was *Leigh and she was working at the studio because she was staying with the owners.  I nodded.  She then began to tell me I had great energy.  Anyone who begins talking about energy immediately gets my attention.  She was an intuitive and offered to give me a reading.

Hmmm. Let me think about this. ummm yes!  I followed her into the coat room where she took my hand and began.  She didn’t say much of anything until…

“I see you in a box sort of thing.  It has something to with the number nine.”

“A box?  Like a pine box?” I quipped.

Leigh shook her head.  “No I don’t see physical death.  But it feels like something … I don’t know a metal box?  yeah is metal for sure.  It’s strange.”

I thanked Leigh for her reading.  Lost in my thoughts I ran right into my boss Diane, on the stairs.   She looked at me, then saw Leigh on her cellphone in the lobby.  “Oh did Leigh give you one of her psycho readings?”

There is that comparison again.  I nodded.  “Keep your guard up with that one.  She’s not firing on all cylinders if you know what I mean.”

“Oh I’m not going to be friends with her.”

Diane stared at me.  “Just be careful.”

On my way back to the city I couldn’t help but run Leighs prediction through my head over and over.  I couldn’t quite put my finger on what she saw or how to interpret it.  I decided to sleep on it.  Maybe the answer would come in the morning.

The next morning as I was rushing to work I decided to take the elevator as opposed to the stairs which I prefer because I am scared of elevators.The doors opened and a nice man was in there with his laundry.  We smiled at each other and I got in.  We began descending.  The elevator stopped on the ninth floor for another person.  Only that person never got in.   The door opened for a quick second jammed back an forth possessed by some strange force, then slammed close.

We weren’t moving.  We were stuck.  I dropped to my knees and hit the call button.  Immediately I heard the front desk.  “Is everyone okay in the elevator?”

“No we are not fucking okay.” I  screeched.  “We are stuck!”

“Okay hang on.  We will have you out in a minute.” he replied

The man in the elevator was very calm … unlike me.  “Do you want to sit on my laundry bag.  Just breathe. It will be okay.”

I sat on the bag and started practicing my breathing.

“Have you ever been stuck in one of these before?” I asked between exhales.

“A few times in my life. But they don’t bother me.” he replied.

“What are you like an elevator operator or something?”

He laughed.  “No, I’m a stuntman.”

“A stuntman?” I perked up. “So can’t you get us out of here?”

He laughed again.  “I doesn’t work like that.  I’m John.”  he extended his hand.

“Angie.  Have you worked on anything I might have seen?”

“We just finished 2 Fast to 2 Furious.”

My ears perked up.  I knew my angels must be with me.  I had a healthy obsession with Paul Walker like most women my age.  Talk about insta calm.  Love my spirit guides.

For the next ten minutes we talked about movies, working on set and all the things I love including Paul.

Suddenly the car stated moving again.  I jumped off the laundry bag with joy.  The light hit “L” and the doors opened.  Two maintenance men greeted us with an Out Of Order sign.

One of the doormen was there too to make sure we were okay.  Really great service in this luxury manhattan high rise.  Me and  John parted ways … as friends.

As I walked down the stairs to the garage it hit me.  That was the box!!  Leigh had seen me stuck in the elevator!  And the number 9 was the floor we were stuck on.

I called Leigh immediately and told her.  We agreed to meet for coffee that evening to discuss.  I didn’t think Leigh was a psycho at all as a matter of fact, this marked the beginning of a beautiful friendship … at least for a little while…

The Promise


family portrait for ange
My Mother’s Family in the 1940’s (My mother has been added)

Coming from a big family with my mother being the youngest of seven, I am no stranger to death.  It is to be expected that those that come before you may leave before you would like them too.  In some more traumatizing cases, those much younger than us depart this world before it seems they were even given a chance and such is life.

My Uncle Carlo was like a father to me.  My biological father abandoned us when my brother and I were at the ripe old age of four and five.  He had fallen in love with his “business partner” which started a dysfunctional few years of familial fighting that would permanently scar us.  He wouldn’t completely disappear from our lives until four years later but our world as we knew if was officially devastated.

One shining day we stood in the garden with our uncle.  My brother and I had been crying so much it seemed as though it would never end.  At four and five years old, there is no way to intellectualize what has just happened to you.  All you know is that your father doesn’t love you … he must not …  or why else would he leave you?

As we sat with Uncle Carlo in his garden that beautiful Spring day, we found ourselves overcome with sadness.  Who is going to love us now?  Before we knew what was happening we found ourselves asking him if we could call him daddy.  Now according to my Aunt Mary, my uncle cried for days.  He was heartbroken for us and of course he had said yes.

For years he treated us like his own.  In his company we never felt abandoned, lost, misunderstood or abused.  We would go on hikes in the woods, play golf, ride the tractor or help him make wine in the basement.  He would tell us stories of the war in Italy and how he escaped the Nazi’s.  He made funny faces at us when our aunt yelled at us and was always amused by our shenanigans.  At night while watching TV he wold announce it was time to have a party.  Oreo Cookies and Chocolate Entenmanns Donuts with a glass of milk would appear before us.  We would stay at their house for weeks.  It always smelled like wood burning even in the Summer.  It was the best time of our emotionally fragile lives.

Uncle Carlo in Rome Mid 1950s

Because of Uncle Carlo, Oreo cookies remain my favorite and the smell of wood burning brings me immediate comfort.  He was like a father to us, and would often refer to himself as our “second father.”

So it would come as no surprise that in 2009 when the Universe took him home, I was devastated.  I kept thinking that there was so much left for me to do and he wasn’t going to be there for any of it.  My heart was broken.  It’s a funny thing about a broken heart.  Nothing can ever really heal it.  It can come back together, but it will never truly be the same.

Naturally I wanted to speak with him again.  Being the psychic junkie that I am, I did some research.  I couldn’t talk to just anyone.  I finally found a Medium on Long Island named Glenn Dove.  I had heard great things about him and wasted no time at all in setting up an appointment.

When the date finally arrived, my best friend came along with me.  As we raced out of the Midtown Tunnel I had a nagging thought.  I turned to Stephie and said, “I have a lot of dead relatives and I love them all but I really only want to speak with him today.”

Stephie nodded.  “Well hopefully, he will come through.” she said.  She was very supportive of this adventure, making it all the more comforting.

When we finally sat down across from Glenn I couldn’t help but feel nervous.  What if he doesn’t come through?  What if everything this guy tells me is complete crap?  I’d had so many bullshit readings I was a bit jaded.  Glenn smiled and gestured for me to sit.  He took out a tape recorder and prepared to record our reading.

“Are you ready to begin?” he asked.

“Absolutely.” I said.

Glenn began writing on a piece of paper.  He looked up for a moment.

“Your father is on this earth?” he asked.


“Okay then it must be a grandfather … no, no.  He’s holding up his hand to me and showing me the number two.  He’s saying second father.  He says he was your second father.”

I was speechless.  There was no way this guy could have known that we referred to my uncle as a second father.  I just nodded. “That’s my uncle.”

Glenn continued, “There are a lot of relatives around you right now but he pushed forward to the front because he says you are expecting him.”

The tears poured out of my like a faucet.  They just kept dropping to the ground like  emotional goo.  I couldn’t believe it.  There’s no way he could have heard me.

Glenn paused for a moment, then smiled.  “Have you reached a milestone? Like a birthday or something?

“Yes.  I just turned thirty two days ago.”

“Your relatives are celebrating.  They are throwing roses.  There are roses all around you.  It’s really quite beautiful.”

For the next hour Glenn gave me one of the best readings I had ever had.  More of my relatives came through and he got them all BY NAME.  These are not common names so I was certainly impressed.  Before I left I asked him one final question; “If or when I ever get married.  Do you think my uncle will be there?”

Glenn didn’t hesitate.  “Absolutely.”

“But what if he forgets, or is busy?  It might be a while before that happens and then I might not even know he was there at all.”  I rambled on like a bumbling baby.

Glenn paused for a moment.  “He said he will be standing right beside you.  He will be sure to make it known he is there.  That’s a promise.” Then he added, “Your uncle says he knows that you miss him, but you have important work to do here.  He doesn’t want you to obsess about the loss of his life … he wants you to live yours.”

“Thank you so very much.” I said as I got up to leave.  I felt such comfort in knowing that my uncle was not gone.  The reading had left me with a sense of peace that I hadn’t had in months since his death.

I was married in 2014.  A good friend of mine *Ann who is highly intuitive was at my wedding.  She kept telling me that there was a man standing next to me when I was taking my vows.  “He is so handsome.  He just kept smiling.  Do you know who he is?”

I was so overwhelmed that day I couldn’t think straight.  “No.  These places are always haunted.  It could have been anyone.”  I somewhat dismissed her leading her toward the cocktails.  “Why would some random ghost be smiling at your wedding?” Ann insisted.

“I don’t know.”  I said.  “We are all one on the other side.”  Ann rolled her eyes.  I handed her one of our signature cocktails and made my way back to the party.

Twenty minutes later I found Ann standing in front of the memorial table I had erected to honor mine and my husbands deceased relatives.  Their photos were displayed in vintage gilded frames surrounded by white roses and pillar candles.  There were so many pictures, there would be no way to tell which was which or whose side of the family they were from.

Uncle Carlo
The picture that was on the memorial table.

Ann was holding a picture to her heart.  When she turned around to face me I saw that she was holding the picture of my Uncle Carlo.

She didn’t have to say it.  I knew it was him that she saw.  We stood there and hugged for a good long time.  My make-up streamed down my face leaving lines of tears inked into my skin.

I knew that the final prophecy from my reading with Glenn Dove had come true.  My uncle had attended my wedding, and although I myself couldn’t see him, he had fulfilled his promise;  a promise made from another dimension all those years ago.

While we may miss our loved ones here on Earth in the physical form, they are never truly gone.  They are always with us I don’t know for certain if there is an afterlife.  But I do know for sure that there is life after death.  And maybe the purpose of it all, is just to live.


The Rule Of Three


The Rule Of Three
Majority Rules

I was terribly late in meeting my bestie, and I am rarely late.  Natural disasters, the apocalypse or impromptu conversations with random strangers on the subway may be the only thing keeping me … that and a tarot reading.  As I burst through the door I barely had enough time to apologize before I was frantically trying to get back on the phone.

“You look like hell.  What happened?” Stephie asked me as I pushed my way past her holding my phone up for service bars.

“Just give me a second.  Damn you AT&T.  I lost service on your street. I have to get back to this lady.”

“What lady?” Steph asked with genuine concern

“I already asked two psychics if Mark was cheating on me, I was talking to the third and we just got cut off.”

“Uh huh.” Stephie stared at me like a disappointed parent.

“Stop looking at me with those judgy eyes.  You’re making me nervous.”

“I’m making you nervous.  You’re acting like a straight up psycho which by the way in case you hadn’t noticed, there is only one vowel difference between psychic and psycho.”  Steph began laughing at her own joke which is why I do so love her.

She got me.  Any play on words will get me to stop immediately in my tracks.  She had successfully distracted my Amygdala from sounding the panic alarm.   I could feel myself calming down…coming to my senses.  Clever girl.

**Side Note**  When choosing best friends in this world always pick ones who are ready, willing and able to call you out on your shit AND who readily accept the same from you.  Any other scenario, the friendship is based on superficial bullshit and should be avoided at all costs.

Stephie gently took the phone from my hand.  I started shaking like a virgin at a prison rodeo. “What is the matter with you?” she repeated.

“It’s the rule of three.”  I explained.  “I need to call three psychics.  After speaking with three, the majority rules.  If two out of three give me a similar answer then I know that is the truth.”

“Sounds like an expensive way to find out if Mark’s cheating on you.”

“It’s the only way.” I barked back

“If you have to ask if someone is cheating wouldn’t you think your intuition is answering  that question for you?”

This is what happens when your best friend is so ridiculously smart, everything she says makes sense making you look even more hysterically insane.

“True.” I said clearly defeated.

Stephie took pity on me and handed me the phone.  I immediately bounced back from the dead.

“Thank you!!!”  My thumbs moved at breakneck speed.  Within seconds I heard that robotic voice I so look forward to.

“Thank you for calling Keen, your personal advisor. Please hold while we try to connect to the person you’ve selected.  This may take a minute so please be patient…”

I waited for the beep and suddenly I was on the phone with number three.  After ten minutes of pure psychotic bliss I had my answer.

“Well?” said Stephie

“That lying, stinking, cheating snake!” I screamed as I threw my phone across the room.

Majority had ruled.





When They Get It Right

Tales Of A Psychic Junkie 4

April, 2004

“Little doll, you are never gonna believe the woman I saw at this psychic fair.”  My petite little Aunt Bee squeaked at me.  “She was amazing.  I didn’t have to tell her anything and she just kept throwing things out to me.  Little Doll, she was scary.  Everything she was saying was right on the money.  I want to take you to her for a reading.”

My eyes lit up in the way Ralphies did in a Christmas Story when he thought of the Red Ryder BB Gun.  “You’ll shoot your soul out.” whispered my spirit guide Paeli.  I chuckled at his wit and without another thought readily agreed.

Two weeks later we were on our way to see *Donna in the Bronx.  “I can’t wait to see what she tells you.”

We pulled the car into an empty spot right off the street and walked to the quaint apartment building.

Donna answered the door.  Her hair was begging for a vacation from is brassy red eighties up do, she had really bad skin and wreaked of cigarette smoke.  “Hi, welcome.  Come on in.”  We entered her one bedroom apartment and was immediately seated at a brown wooden kitchen table.  On the table was a timer and a deck of regular playing cards.

“Who would like to go first?” Donna said sweetly.  She was really very nice.  My Aunt volunteered me.  “Great” said Donna.  “Think about you and where you are in your life.  When you feel ready say stop.”  I nodded as she began to shuffle the cards.

“Stop.” I said.  Donna laid the cards out in three piles.  “Pick one.”

I chose the deck on the left.  “Okay” she said as she laid the cards out in a spread very unfamiliar to me.  “Now I also hear spirit so I will tell you things I hear as well as what the cards are showing.” I nodded.  Everything was silent for a moment, then:

“Who’s Jennifer?” was the first thing out of her mouth.  My skin crawled.  it was like someone walked over my grave.

“Deceased or living? I mumbled.

“Deceased.” was the reply

“My sister.” I choked out.  My Aunt grabbed my leg.  I could tell that even she wasn’t prepared for that one.

“She wants to talk about your boyfriend.” explained Donna

My boyfriend.  My lying, cheating, egomaniacal boyfriend.  I had been up and down about him for months.  At the time I was convinced he was the love of my life.  He had betrayed and deceived me so many times yet I couldn’t find the courage to leave him.  I figured I would stick it out.  There had to be some way to fix it.  Maybe Jennifer was going to tell me how.

“She wants you to know that this really isn’t the guy for you.”  Cue the violins.

My Aunt shot up excitedly.  She had been trying to convince me to move on for months.

“Little doll.  They’re crossing over to tell you to get rid of this guy.”

Donna nodded, still messing around with the cards.  “There is someone much better for you.  His name starts with the initial J.  He’s a writer. Joe.  His name is Joe.  You will meet him in December.”

As we drove back home, my Aunt and I shared our thoughts on what we had just experienced.  The creepiest being my sister’s appearance.

“You heard what she said about Mark.”  squeaked my Aunt.  I nodded. “Just think” she continued “You have Joe to look forward to.”

“I live in Manhattan.  You can throw a rock and hit a Joe.”  My Aunt just shrugged.

I would continue to speak with Donna for many years.  Most of her predictions came to pass, including Joe …  a screenwriter, who I did meet in December …  December 7th 2008.  I am still married to Joe to this day and we have an adorable baby boy.  Some people truly have a gift.


*Names are changed to protect identity.



Gypsies, Scams and Thieves

To gypsy or not to gypsy, that is the question.  When navigating the ethers for a good psychic, the answer my friends is simple. No way.  Living  in NYC  I have had many run-ins with gypsies.  They are not all bad as far as humans go however when trying to discover the complexities of your life path, I would strongly advise you not go there.

While I have been lured many times by gypsies on the streets of Manhattan, the most nefarious experience that comes to mind was actually on the boardwalk in Atlantic City.  I know what you’re thinking, this story can’t end well when starting with “the boardwalk in Atlantic City.” And you are correct!  Alas, there I was with my best friend Willem enjoying the brownish blue tint of the Atlantic ocean, when the inevitable happened.  Right there on the boardwalk was a sign. “Get your palm read $5.”  To any normal person, it was JUST a sign but to a psychic junkie it was a homing beacon.

Tales Of A Psychic Junkie 2

Reaching out its tendrils toward me, I was hooked.  “Let’s go get a reading.” I squealed.  Willem was an avid tarot card reader himself so being that he was so much like me (sans addiction)  he readily agreed.  Upon entering their little hut, we saw two ladies badly in need of a dentist chatting away.  As soon as they saw us they both shot up.  Willem went to the right with the younger woman and I to the left with the grandmother.

I sat down in a tiny chair.  The gypsy smiled at me but didn’t say much.  She picked up my hand and began to study it.  “I see you have perfect health and well being.  I also see extreme fame and popularity.”

Yes, Yes! I thought.  Tell me more.  So far this was going great!

“But there is a dark energy blocking this.”  Instant buzz kill.

“Darkness.” I said thinking about all the creeps that have been in my life.  “I guess that makes sense.”

“You’re cursed.” She said eyes wide and black as night.

I sat back in my chair.  Her already unattractive features were crinkled in such a way that made her a bit more terrifying.  For a brief moment I had a flash of being drugged and taken to her secret ceremonial cave where she would gut me and use me as a human sacrifice not unlike the Kalima from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.  I instinctively covered my heart.

“I can get rid of this curse.  This devil is no match for me.  Then all the health, well being, fame and popularity will come flooding in like it is destined to.” She prophesied.

I looked up with gratitude. “You would do that?”  My hand remained on my heart … just in case.

She nodded. “Yes. I will do spells every night for thirty days.  I will light protection candles, and wear reiki charged crystals to attract positive energy.  I will invoke the angelic spirits to help me banish this devil for good.”

Wow I thought.  Not just darkness, but an actual devil.  Lucky me.

“Is this something you would like me to do?  I can get started tonight.” she asked.

I thought it over for two seconds … then … “Yes.”

“Praise Jesus.” She threw up her hands dramatically.

“Praise Jesus.” I repeated enthusiastically also throwing my hands up.

“You will be saved.” She exclaimed.

“Yay.” I thought.

“That will be five thousand dollars.” she said without so much as a twitch.

“Wait … I’m sorry what? I choked out replacing my hand over my heart.

“That is how much it costs to get rid of it.  But that is only for thirty days.  We may have to do this for six months before we can really be sure its gone.  But trust me.  When this devil is finally banished, you will smile again.”

“And it’s five thousand dollars every month until it’s exorcised?” I asked incredulously.

“I have to travel to the underworlds of darkness. Walk between life and death in order to save you from demons that feast on your soul.”

I threw up in my mouth. Something about the whole feast on my soul thing threw me over the edge.  “You know what.  I’m okay with not smiling.  My face is better suited for brooding.”  I stood up, a bit dizzy hand still over heart, backing out of the room.

“This demon has been dragging you down for years at least ten that I can see.  It must be removed immediately or you will continue to live a life of pain and suffering.” She retorted.

“Ten years huh.  Longest relationship to date.” I joked.  She was not amused.

“You will never find love, marry or have children.  You will be miserable and sad while the devil takes your life from you.”

“Fascinating prophecy .. and while I will certainly heed your warning,  this devil and I seem to have gotten along this far, wouldn’t want to fuck it up now.  Thanks for the reading.”

I ran out of their little hut and back out into the salty sea air.  I heaved for a moment wiping the sweat off my brow.

“How did it go Angie?” I looked up and saw Willem … he looked like an angel surrounded by sunlight.  I ran and hugged him.  “Thank god we got out of there alive.”

Willem laughed. “What? Why do you say that?”

“Apparently I have a demon attached to me.” I blurted out.

“A whaaaaa?”

“Yeah. And for five thousand dollars she can remove it.  She said my life would continue to be awful, and suck if I didn’t get rid of the demon. Did you have one too?”  I asked.

“No.  She said she saw all great things in the future.  I was going to be doing what I love, meet the man of my dreams and I might be moving to the west coast.  Wait did you say five thousand dollars?”

“They didn’t ask you for five thousand?  I asked sheepishly

“Heck no, I just paid the five dollars.” he replied.

“So I’m darkness and you’re light.  That’s just fucking great.”

Willem started to laugh.  “Can I take you and your devil to lunch?” he put his arm around me and we headed back toward the hotel.

I didn’t know it at the time but it had nothing to do with darkness or light.  I had the need to know.  I was more susceptible to her manipulations that Willem would ever be.  Not all Gypsies are like this swindler but many of them are.  You need to be so careful when choosing someone to read for you.  There are so many people out there who take advantage of those who are at their most vulnerable.

Nothing the Gypsy predicted ever came true.  Perhaps she was full of it from the start or perhaps the choices I made in my life altered what she read at that moment.  Praise the Universe for free will!  Or maybe the devil just got bored of me and moved on to someone more exciting … Weinstein? Trump? My dad?  I guess there are just some things in life we are not meant to know.  One thing is for certain though … she could definitely see that I was a psychic junkie.




Obsession Is An Ugly Thing

Tales Of A Psychic JunkieI am a survivor.  I had a sickness.  An addiction.  I couldn’t stop it from happening because I was doing it for so long.  It plagued my daydreams and haunted me at night.

I was a psychic junkie.

It’s so sad I know but it’s the truth.  I have spent thousands of dollars in psychic readings all because of one teeny tiny thing… I have to know.

I come from a toxic father and grew up in an emotionally abusive environment.  I’ve had the rug pulled out from under me so many times I am quite frankly scared to death of the unknown.

I had a hard time living in the moment and an even harder time waiting for life to just unfold.  I’ve read more spiritual books, inspirational poems and new age theories than I can even remember.

So hence in order to get ahead of my fear of the other shoe dropping I became obsessed with psychics.  Now over the years this has tempered off, but there was a time when I would talk to them for HOURS a day.  Actually I spent more time talking about what might happen in my life than actually living it.

The irony in all of this is every single time I could get on the phone with a psychics one of the first things they would day was, “You are very psychic yourself, you really don’t need me.”

As soon as I heard this I would go off.  “Of course I fucking need you! Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t listen to my intuition. I can’t possibly do that. No, no, no I want you to tell me what is going to happen.”

Thankfully I have mastered this terrible affliction that plagued me for a good fifteen years.  What it has left me with is a keen sense on how to smell bullshit, an appreciation for living in the moment and the realization that nobody knows a damn thing.

Tales Of A Psychic Junkie is my experience navigating the waters of my own spiritual journey, what I loved, what I lost, and what I learned.  On the rollercoaster of life there is nothing more important than trusting yourself and I was about to discover why…