So now I had established I was quite mad I needed to make a choice. Do I have an exorcism or settle for a bit of reiki. As I didn’t know anyone who performed exorcisms I opted for reiki. The thing that bothered me was I did feel like there was a beast living in my throat and chest. I got a grip though and decided it wasn’t Satan himself or one of his demons working for him. So reiki seemed a better choice.
I knew a little bit about it.
Reiki is a system of spiritual healing or ‘energy’ medicine which is similar to the laying on of hands. This universal energy flows through a reiki healer’s hands when he or she places the palms upon or close to the recipient. This allegedly enhances the recipient’s own healing potential.
OK, I will give it a go. Maybe shift some energy and get back to normal. Off I went to the nearest practitioner. It was all very nice and calm. However, when I spoke to the practitioner I could not bring myself to tell her I was having difficulty speaking. Why? Shame. Simple as that. I told her anything but. So essentially I was telling fibs to everyone. At this point I had become a professional liar.
She did lay her hands, not on me, but very close to me. I was informed I had some energy blockage somewhere in my abdomen which represented family issues. Nothing about my throat. I enjoyed the session simply for the relaxation but I knew deep down it would not help me. Now, at this point my voice was very much in and out, so some days I sounded normal. I decided to delve into the world of energy healing, self help books and spirituality.
I am not a religious person but I do have faith. I would describe myself as spiritual. Its just different if you don’t know what I mean.
So, I read book after book about how past lives affect present life and how we agree to everything that happens to us good or bad. I became fascinated and could’t stop reading.
I went even further and phoned up a past life regression guru to see if I had been bad in another life and had asked for punishment. He answered the phone and I hung up on him. Oh no, I had caller ID, so he called me back and he said ‘I know you’re there so ring me back when your are ready’. I was cringing with embarrassment. What if he tracks me down and comes looking for me to heal me and then everyone will know I’m nuts.
I moved on from past life regression-although I do believe we have all been here before, and life is a journey and we are here to learn before we can fully evolve. That is just my opinion. You don’t have to agree with me.
Next step-I did a Chinese medicine course and shiatsu massage. God it was hard. Proper exams and real study. I thought; this will help me, I need to align my chakras and move the beast out of my body. Now don’t get me wrong I really enjoyed the course and made friends, but my voice was still in and out of spasms. So the beast was still within.
I was really frustrated by this point.
What next? well shiatsu is kind of like acupuncture using your hands rather than needles. I decided to have acupuncture-stick those needles into me. Bring it on .
Off I went to a local therapist. Again, I could not tell her I couldn’t speak properly. More lies. Instead, I said I was feeling stressed. I had multiple little pins stuck in my head and I lay there willing the beast to leave me. I did have a few sessions of acupuncture which were nice and calming. Did it help my voice? No.
I didn’t give up. I had more reiki after all you need a good few sessions to move bad energy right?
I then decided to join a meditation group. Clear the clutter from your mind-speak your truth. I would if I could but I can’t get the damn words out.
Again, I did enjoy the meditation sessions, but I couldn’t clear my mind nor speak my truth (whatever that was). I stuck around because I made friends and had a bit of a laugh.
I decided to meditate on my own. I dedicated time and energy into this. I asked for help through my meditation. It did relax me and my intuition soared. I have always been very intuitive, but now things were starting to happen that I won’t go into. Let’s just say I had frequent visitors. I remember being annoyed one day about someone on TV and their basic lack of the English language. I heard a very distinct voice in my mind saying ‘They’re only words’ Was this a wind up? Am I now a psycho hearing voices. Especially ones who talk about words!! Was some demon taunting me. Oh God I am truly mad.
For some reason I then decided to change my diet. Lets detox I thought. After all I was living in California and everyone else was doing it. It may rid my body of toxins and my voice will return to normal. I drank disgusting smoothies that tasted like mud, I took detox tablets, I said hello to my food before I ate it. I was becoming one of those California hippy chicks searching for answers and finding myself. Some of it was cathartic, but some of it was a waste of money and made me feel even more frustrated.
I then delved into the world of tarot card reading. Well you’re supposed to get answers through them aren’t you. I joined a class and learned the basis principles. I bought tarot cards, fairy cards, angel cards. You name it I had it. I willed my answers to come in. I wanted to rid myself of whatever was robbing my voice.
Now I will say, for a while my voice was pretty good. I became more confident and just got on with living my life. I still had a fascination for all things spiritual so I continued my metaphysical journey.
I then branched out into the world of aromatherapy (which I still love to this day). I bought oils and burned them religiously. My apartment smelled gorgeous. I was relaxed. Things were not so bad after all.
I plodded on things seemed pretty normal for a while. All was good. Then out of nowhere my voice went again. The terrible straining came back. I couldn’t stand it.
So off I went to a hypnotherapist. I remember it so vividly. She apparently hypnotised me, yet she didn’t! I didn’t ‘go under’ I didn’t feel trance like and I didn’t go anywhere in my head other than thinking I wanted to get out of there. Enter the lies again-I pretended I had been hypnotised so I wouldn’t offend her. I paid her the $300 and left feeling like I had been robbed.
Why didn’t anything work. Was my life going to be a continuous up hill battle trying to ‘heal’ ‘release’ ‘let go’……..Let go of what!!
I was perfectly fine before my voice went. I’d had a normal decade in my twenties and in to my mid thirties. I had lots of fun and many adventures. Normal stuff and extraordinary stuff. I felt lucky. I was educated, I had lived in London, New York, Savannah Georgia and now Santa Monica right next to Malibu. I was earning good money, the sun was always out, I met some great people. So why was I so discontented. Well my voice of course. What is life without a voice or in my case an unpredictable voice.
It became depressingly obvious that nothing was helping me. Now to all those who work in the alternative therapy industries, I have great respect for you and later in my journey I revisited some of these therapies. However, at this particular time in my life they simply didn’t work. Maybe I wasn’t ready who knows. In some ways it made me even more nuts.
I was able to put a facade on to the outside world but inside I was falling apart. Maybe it was time to commit myself after all? I’d be cared for, have three meals a day and would’t have to speak if I didn’t want to. I could think of worse things. Maybe I’d go to Africa and help the poor and live a basic life. Be a martyr. I might even get a sainthood after I’m dead. That poor woman who could hardly speak dedicated her life to the needy lets immortalise her. They may even build a statue of me. Millions of people from all over the world will flock to it and pray at my feet. I will become the patron saint of voices.
No I won’t because it’s not real so that won’t happen.
The thing is everything was now getting out of hand. My thoughts were becoming irrational yet I functioned in a normal manner and was able to do my job even though it was difficult.
I still could not tell anyone how I felt. Even my family. I was still so ashamed. Looking back, because my condition is so rare how could I possibly explain it. It’s not normal.
And so I carried on and on and on. Good and bad days. Good and bad weeks. Trips home to the UK seemed to help. No one noticed my voice. This is good I thought. Maybe I am healing after all.