Dad is there a lot, as is a beloved childhood cat. One of my uncles is a regular, and so is my old friend the high school teacher who had crossed in recent years. (It's sad that I was estranged from this teacher in life, something his soul feels sad about, which he keeps telling me he wishes he could have changed the outcome of.) Spirits seem to like to visit me often, since being an open channel means I can have conversations with the other side, which can't be that common a talent in this part of the world. (Because I'm coming out of psychospiritual illness from the possession, I feel like there's a period of release upon me that will continue for a time, and while that unfolds, my talents are likely to improve.)
(Cautionary note: Don't try to use ouija boards to talk to dead relatives, or anything like that. If you want to try spirit communication, try working with angels to attune to it, or start by simply calling to God, and see where it takes you. There are plenty of books on this subject. Ouija is trashy and could fuck you up... I have heard too many real life accounts of this technique leading to mental health problems, and sometimes even full blown possession, like what I lived with. Teeny bopper satanism and ouija board are fun looking for kid sleepovers, but it ain't worth it, kids, if you are a sensitive soul and something wants in. Give it time and do it right, or don't do it at all.)
My mood has relaxed a bit, but I still have a sadness that creeps over me. I can't look at "The Psychosis Diaries" anymore, or even Google search old articles about me. They got me wrong... I got me wrong, and I was in deep hell at the time. I still live with the trauma of having been a social pariah, and of being what amounts to an asylum convict. (Though I did write an article on here about how I ended up in forensic psychiatry, I ended up deleting it because I got cold feet having it out there. I won't tell the full story on here again, only that it's what any panic stricken woman might do if she felt threatened and had nowhere to turn to for help, no one was seriously hurt, and the outcome would make a feminist's blood boil. Anyone who still judges me because of gossip that went around behind my back is buying into harmful stereotypes of mentally ill people, and should be absolutely ashamed of themselves.)
Nights are the worst, lying in bed. I long for someone to cuddle me and tell me I did well... bettering myself, finishing my comic series, holding it together during COVID-19, curing myself of my spiritual problems. But there is no one... just a dark room, and an open channel to my best friend, the Spirit. Because I'm often alone, I worry I might become a bit of a lone wolf. Zoom meetings help a little, but I have never known the embrace of a loving partner (except for one relationship that was more of a very close friendship - we are still friends). When Spirit uses channel to stroke me using my own hand, it almost feels like the touch of a loving person at my side, but it's just not the same as a human loved one doing it.
I wonder how real monks and nuns handle the personal loneliness when it gets to them. (I suppose they have the community of each other to avoid it.) Not all of them have been mystics, of course. At least I have very close relations to spirits and Divinity, because of all of this. Because of that, I never truly feel completely alone. It's just those little moments before bed that can get to me.