There are Few Terrors Worse than some Psychic Nightmares...

There was a long period in my life when I hated being psychic. Before I learned how to read cards, 'all I had' were psychic dreams. Most of them have been a lot like looking through rippled shower door glass.
I first wrote this and posted it back in 2007. I just read it again and as always, it brings tears to my eyes. You ever have nightmares? Pray to God you never have psychic nightmares like the ones I used to have.
You may know how it is, you dream of a wreck, you know it's psychic but it wasn't clear enough to know who to warn. You try to warn everyone and you manage to leave out the one person you shoulda warned... you know what I mean? And you wanna just practically scream, "That's not good enough! I don't want psychic dreams that aren't clear enough. Whoo Hoo, I'm psychic, big deal, what's the point???"
The worst was when I was about 25. I could read cards by then, but I was having migraines and rather than go to the hospital and get a shot, my mom would give me one of her schedule 4 (meaning: too damn strong) pain killers.
They were very weird. They made me immobile. I wouldn't sleep for hours after taking one. My mind would wander. If someone called to me I'd hear them and think, "I should answer." But I wouldn't. If my arm was getting tired being under my head I'd think "I ought to move my arm." But I didn't do that either.
About eight hours later I'd come out of it. What I didn't know was that one of it's less than common side effects was when you did finally sleep, you'd often have nightmares. I didn't figure it out for six months during which time I had more than a few horrific nightmares and about half of them were psychic. Trouble was I wouldn't know which were psychic and which weren't until they would occur and hit the channel 8 news either that day or the next.
It was a long, long time ago, but I'll tell you about one of the dreams as best I can remember it. In the dream I was working at a horse ranch (a life-long dream) in Tulsa at some fancy country club. I was in the barn when I smelled the smoke, looked round and saw the fire as someone yelled with terror and urgency "FIRE IN THE BARN!"
We were trying to get all of the horses out quickly, but there was this huge dark wall in the way that we had to squeeze past, filling up most of the barn doorway! The horses were terrified. Some balked even with their faces covered with shirts and feedbags. I will not put you through the details I lived through in that dream. It felt absolutely real. Even now it makes me cry. About half of them died. I thought about calling and warning the country clubs, but my last two nightmares weren't psychic. I had no idea if this one was or not. What do you do? Call complete strangers and say "Hey, you don't know me, I'm a psychic and I had this nightmare about a country club and maybe it was yours?"

I was afraid they'd think I was crazy.
It didn't take long for me to regret not having more courage.

The next day at a country club just outside of Tulsa, OK they dropped off a truck load of hay bales right in front of the door of the barn. A few minutes later a fire started in the barn. They lost right at half the horses. They said some of the men cried. Forgiving myself for that one took years.
It turned me into an insomniac who was afraid to watch the news. Every nightmare was pretty clear, and yet not quite clear enough to know who to warn. Besides I couldn't tell the psychic nightmares from the regular nightmares. It was making me crazy with guilt and apprehension.
Finally, waking up screaming and thrashing around in the bed for the umpteenth time, I started crying. I was absolutely EXHAUSTED. I said with utter conviction and determination, "That's it. I REFUSE to have another psychic dream about something tragic unless I can prevent it. And so it is." (shoulda thought of that a lot sooner)
That night I went to sleep on time and without fear for the first time in a loooong time. And I'll be damned if I didn't have another psychic nightmare!! My mother was in a maroon pantsuit with a pearl necklace shaped like a tie. (anyone old enough to remember those?) In real life she didn't own anything like either of them. She was with my father in a white station wagon I'd never seen before.
It was a really happy dream at first. They had gone to the drive-in movie, something they only did once every few years. They were laughing and talking through the comedy on the screen, really enjoying the movie and each other. Then Daddy got out of the car to go get some popcorn and he fell, and I knew he was dead from a heart attack. The dream replayed itself two more times and then I woke up certain of what I had to do, because when I have a dream three times in a row it's definitely psychic.
Put yourself in my shoes for a minute... you know you're psychic, you know half your nightmares are psychic, and you just saw your own father fall and die from a heart attack in a nightmare. That's not just a bad dream. That's not just something you can shake off. It was horrifying, damn near traumatizing.
I took a shower, trying to calm down enough to talk to my father. I went into the kitchen and told him I'd had one of my bad dreams and this one was about him. Very sweetly I asked him would he please start carrying his heart pills again. (He hadn't been carrying his nitro for about three years) He was in a bad mood and hell no he wouldn't.
I go into the living room and my mom asked me how I was doing and the dam broke.... I BURST into big gulping, nearly choking sobs. Several minute passed before she could get out of me what I was so upset about. The bottom line was, if I had to go through those damn nightmares, the least people could do is let them work. With gentle exasperation my mother said "Tony, get your heart pills and start carrying them again, if nothing else to calm this girl." And of course, then he did, grumbling, but at least he did it.
According to Daddy, he never had to take any of those nitros that year. So it would be easy to assume my dream wasn't psychic at all. But they bought a white station wagon that looked just like the one in the dream and they went to the drive in later that summer. Just before they left I stopped my mother and said "Mom, look at what you're wearing."
She looked in the mirror, and said, "what?" As she said it she was smoothing her maroon red pantsuit my sister had found for her at a yard sale and straightening the pearl tie necklace a friend of mine had given her, both recieved in only the previous week.
I said "Mah-ahm! That nightmare I had! The pantsuit, the necklace, the white station wagon that ya'll are about to get into, the drive-in..."
"Well, do you think we shouldn't go?"
"I think as long as he has his heart pills with him, you'll be fine."
Just as I said that, he walked in from the kitchen. We could see the pen in his pocket that he kept his nitro pills in and neither of us said a word, just smiled at each other as they left.
I think my warning, especially since I'd gotten so upset, caused my dad to take his hard work just a little bit easier that summer. Maybe, maybe not. We'll never know. But I know this much, at least most of that dream was psychic. One thing is for sure, that decision I made so long ago to only have psychic dreams I can do something about has sure helped me sleep better.

[true psychic experience © lollie dot com]

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