I have a love of the supernatural. When I was in high school, first thing I would do when I got home every Wednesday (or Thursday, I don’t remember accurately) was rush the remote control and turn on The Montel Williams Show because he had Sylvia Browne on. (That world renowned soothsayer with nails that could climb the empire state building and a voice only a pack a day smoker can provide.) I would sit in awe from 4 o’clock to 5 of her predictions and her ethereal explanations to people regarding if they were going to have children, what happened to loved ones who disappeared, what happened to Grandma Jane’s money, where is Uncle Jack’s garden hoe, so on and so forth.
Since my downward spiral into mystisim started at a younger age, my obsession with it should come as no surprise. About 7 years ago, I mentioned to a family member I wanted to see a psychic, which to my astonishment, they recommended theirs.
Enter and Welcome M to my life.
M is everything you could ask for in a psychic. She’s short, means business, and you feel really uncomfortable around her. I don’t remember the first time I saw her and what she said, but it was enough to bring me back a second time. The second time I saw her I was life altering. I was, at the time, languishing in my current career choice, felt stuck in a relationship with a nice guy I was progressively loathing, and had this incredibly antsy feeling that was driving me insane all the time. She told me:
The reason I felt antsy was my life was going to change drastically.
My relationship would end, but not in the way I was expecting.
I would leave my current job and attain my dream job. I would leave my current job end of April and start my new one early May.
And Holy Shit. Everything happened exactly the way she predicted. My life did change. My relationship broke up (He left me first which I did not see coming since my plan was to dump his ass as soon as I got to where I was going), I attained that dream job early April and left the languishing one around the same time, started my new in early May. I was astonished. Astonished by how accurate she had been. And like a heroin addict, all it takes is one time. I was hooked. She became a 6 month check-up. When her predictions ran out, I was back for more insight to my destiny. And soon I wasn’t the only one. I had friends all hooked on her as well. Here we were, all strung out on these life predictions, feigning for a fix as soon as the spiritual nile ran dry. That is..until last November.
Last November, a friend had an M party. (This psychic throws parties, which is fantastic because you can all get together, eat a bunch of shitty, fatty sustenance we call food, and help each other decode M’s predicitions into our fate.) At this point in my life, I was riding a wave of life high. My life was going fabulously well. My job was, well, what it was, I was dating a guy (refer to Mr. Mountain Dew, 3rd post) who I was convinced was Mr. Right, everything was clicking like a clock work. That is, until my turn to see M came up.
She confirmed my suspicions. She said “I see an airplane taking off. You have finally hit your stride. You have your circle of peeps, which is good because they are your forever friends. I see a man, a very handsome man, you are with right now. Things are going to keep going really well and I’m seeing you two married by July of next year (this was 2012 she meant 2013, which I’m getting there) and I see a promotion in the future, very soon. You have waited a very long time for work to notice your talents and now the right people are in place to help you along. You’re in a really good place! Enjoy it!
People..let me tell you what really happened.
Two weeks later, after having sex for the first time, Mr. Right got all weird and stopped calling, to which I had a nervous break down (to be fair, it was a long time coming) and ended my ass up in a psychiatric hospital (partially admitted they call it) for a week to deal with the tail spin of depression this catapulted me into. This was first week of December. (New Year, My friends and I decided a great resolution for me was to keep my ass out of the loony bin.) January, I had to trade in my Sebring Convertible (which I adored) for a sedan Chrysler 200 because Charlotte Grace’s (the St.Bernard’s) big ass couldn’t crawl into it anymore. February, March, well, a promotion was in the works for me. However, it kept getting pushed back, and pushed back, and pushed back until the time of my undoing (read 1st post) and I got my ass fired. I lost a best friend in this debacle as well (refer to Friendager’s post), June I didn’t know what I was going to do, enter in Meredith Montgomery McKay who saved my ass…again. Started this blog in July, had to cancel my bomb ass cruise I had planned with MMM and Nick Hackett because of money issues, thought I was going to be famous by now but am not, which brings me to August yes, newly employed, but still not famous. (Oh, so far in September I bought a lawnmower, which didn’t work, brought it back, bought a new one didn’t work till the pops figured out I was putting bad gasoline in them.) JE——SUS!!!!! On a God Damn Crotchrocket!!! (That was for you MMM and Nick Hackett)
Lesson #384-Be highly cautious if you decide to see a psychic because, the truth is, you’re playing with your future. Never, ever go see a psychic when life is going great. Why? Because you need confirmation it’s going well?? That’s Stupid. I did, and everything got fucked by confirming it. Once confirmed, I diverted the direction of my future. All my walls came down and left me exposed emotionally. Mr. Mountain Dew got freaked out because I started moving at the speed of lightning regarding our relationship. When he left, my future for the first time had no obvious pattern, which I was used to having. Now it was my turn to freak the fuck out, and freak out I did. Instead, go when things are really bad and can’t get much worse. I’m finding, that in my case, M is more accurate when my soul is in dire straits.
(It should be noted that after this November experience, none of us have gone back. We all felt the decisions we have made in the last 6 months were mostly motivated by her predictions, and our lives could have taken more plausible courses if we had not seen her that fateful night in November. It’s like what Kid Rock said about Pam. “Sometimes fire is just that, too hot to touch.”