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At the age of 15 I was brought to the hospital by my parents to have a session with a psychiatrist.  Life had gotten so much more complicated with mixed feelings about my own sexuality, feeling lonely and this burning sensation that I was different then other kids my age. I was more mature in the sense that I could seem to comprehend other people’s emotions and a lot of the time also feel them.  I also felt as if the imaginary friends I had and had forgotten about since my young childhood were making a re-appearance but in a completely different way. 

“Have you been feeling sad for long?” Doctor Thompson, head of crisis psychiatry, asked me.

“It’s been a while.  I just can’t stop feeling overwhelmed”

She then asked me the number one question that all psychiatrists ask a depressive patient:

“Are you feeling suicidal?”

At this point I was feeling genuinely suicidal; I didn’t want to end my life but I felt as though I couldn’t stop myself.  I still don’t know to this day if this was a genuine feeling of my authentic self or if it was some sort of obstructive energy.  My feeling about it though is that I was perceiving so much of everyone’s emotions through clairsentience that I could no longer discern my own feelings from the feelings of others – something most psychiatrists aren’t trained to address and nothing that a 15 year old was prepared for. 

I have been asked a few times why children are so aware of their spiritual surroundings when they truly aren’t ready to “see”.  The answer that Spirit always gives me is that Source will never give us more than what we can handle at any moment.  Feelings can be uncomfortable to deal with or sometimes even downright scary.  In the end we are protected, loved and guided with our gifts by forces which have our highest good set out for us – we realize this highest good through our experiences.

After about fifteen minutes with Dr. Thompson my life was nowhere near repaired however I did feel a little bit more understood.  I never told her about what I was feeling but knowing that someone was there to support me from an objective perspective was refreshing.  Don’t get me wrong, my family was very supportive but sometimes when help is offered from a stranger we tend to listen more (at least at that age).

I was admitted to the hospital’s crisis psychiatric unit that day and even though the next three years would be difficult the lessons I would learn would allow for my own development.

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