Photo: Jennifer Olson
I'm 33 years old, happily married, a working mother of two boys and reside in Denver, Colorado. I'm a regular gal like many of you. There's just one little twist: I'm a professional psychic medium. I communicate with spirits on a regular basis, connecting the living with loved ones on the other side. But this "gift" is not something I was always aware of possessing, nor was I raised in a household where we talked about psychics or paranormal phenomena. Let me share with you how spirit entered into my life one day, 13 years ago, and forever rocked my world.
As a 20-year-old sophomore in college at the University of Florida, I went through big changes in my personal life. I started to withdraw from my sorority and many friends. I realized I was suffering from depression, yet I didn't want to reach out for help. I started unconsciously turning to food to find comfort from my suffering. At night, I would sleepwalk into the kitchen and eat, until minutes later I "woke up" confused and went back to bed. This started happening more and more, going from one time per night, a few nights a week, to several times, every night. I was in constant battle with myself—my mind vs. my soul. I started gaining weight, and my unhappiness grew stronger. I felt like a prisoner to myself. A year later, I told my parents what was going on and, in turn, sought a doctor. I tried antidepressants for six months, yet this did nothing more but dull the pain that remained deep within. So, with the permission of my doctor, I took myself off them and again fought this battle on my own.
Two years and 30 pounds later, I decided I'd had enough. I began to journal my feelings, crying out for help. A few months later, I ran into an "angel board," like a Ouija board, and began playing around with it, with my college roommates. What started out as a game turned into my therapy. I would take the board into my room at night and connect with my angels. One night, my deceased grandma Babe came through and told me to take care of the dripping candle behind me. Confused, I turned around only to find my candle dripping wax all over my carpet! It was then I knew there were more eyes in that room than just my own. Then, a few days later, I was at a bookstore journaling about my frustrations, and my grandma started to talk to me through my own hand...a process known as automatic writing. She started channeling information through me, and my hand flew furiously across the page. Fifteen pages later, she had told me things only my father would know, just to confirm it was truly her. After reading the words to my dad, he confirmed it all as being true. And thus began my work with my grandma and guides on the other side.
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