Illustration by PJ 2006
Hi, my name is Stephanie and I believe that I may be psychic, (wow that's hard for me to say). I know that I am an Empath; I have been extremely empathic all my life. I found that out at a very early age. As for premonitions or psychic experiences, I have had a few before this experience but have dismissed them off as either de ja veu or coincidence. The story that I'm about to tell is going to be the first time I have ever talked about it openly to a stranger or to any sort of organization. I've only told this to people who are very close to me, or immediate family. I probably would have never been able to really open up or accept my abilities had it not been for me getting in contact with someone who was actually there and witnessed firsthand, what I went through and what had actually happened and can fill in some of the blanks. It is only now, 10 years later, that I am trying to accept and come to terms with my experiences and try to gain some sort of control over them.
This was a horrific experience for me and very confusing to explain. Whenever I try to explain what was happening to me and what I experienced, I begin to re-live it. It was all emotion and that in itself is hard to describe, but I will do my best. My friend James, who was my boyfriend at the time, is helping me with this story and has written his own account of this experience.
This all takes place in Phoenix, AZ, a couple of weeks leading up to the tragedy of 9/11. I had two different psychic experiences during this period. One was an out of body experience but I will leave that for another time. I will concentrate on the one that has stayed with me for all this time. I remember it as being only a few days before 9\11, but I've been told it was actually a few weeks. It started slowly; I didn’t even realize it at first. I would just be thinking of a place, you know when you can’t remember a word or a name? I would ask James “what’s a town in Pennsylvania?” He would answer but it would not be right. Then New York City would pop into my mind out of nowhere.
This went on about a week with growing frequency. Then an overwhelming desire to write things down took me over and I began to scribble franticly in a notebook. At the time, I felt I had no choice but to write, to figure out a puzzle of some sort, and I had to do it fast because time was running out. I had to get people to listen to me and see what I was doing. I felt increasing fear and terror, for I felt if I did not figure it out and get someone to help there would be serious consequences.
I still remember what it felt like and what was happening like it was yesterday. Time had no meaning, I actually thought it was only a few days, but come to find out it was a few weeks before 9/11. I felt like I was getting pieces like clues, as if someone was desperately trying to tell me something. They were frantic and needed my help so I tried to help them. It was almost as though they knew me because they would remind me of certain happenings in my life like a past memory, and in that memory was a clue as to what I needed to help. The only way I could make sense of it was to write what the clues that I got were, almost like a tree.
I had to use deductive reasoning so to speak, the problem was it was too much to handle all at once. Emotions and clues were bombarding me all at once so my writing would become tangled up on each other. When I would feel I was close to figuring one clue out, then there were more and different clues. It became difficult to distinguish between the clues in my writings.
It was the worst experience in my lifetime. When I would come to a conclusion, from where I don’t know, I would try and explain it to someone. James mostly, I would show him the paper and tell him that something was going to happen there! I was frightened and determined, he listened, and looked at what I was doing and tried to be patient but all in all he really thought I was nuts at the time. I remember even explaining to him how I knew that something was going to happen, he would ask me what is going to happen, and I didn't know. I just knew it was something bad. My memory of those weeks leading up to 9/11 and what was going on around me is limited, mostly what I remember is the panic and the feeling of despair.
I was running out of time, someone had to listen to me, I was so consumed with the emotion of it all, I barely knew what was going on around me. This continued with increasing frequency for 2 weeks or so. I've never felt so helpless in my entire life. I began to tell people that something bad was going to happen in New York, the Liberty Tree, and some place in Pennsylvania. I would tell James over and over until he would repeat it back to me, but I still didn’t know what would happen. After a while no one except James would listen to me and even he was just humoring me. That didn’t stop me from continuing my mantra about New York, the Liberty Tree, and Pennsylvania. I would mutter those three things over and over whether anyone was listening or not.
On the night of September 10th, not being able to sleep, James and I walked around for hours thru our neighborhood all night. As I still tried to convince him that something was going to happen, he humored me and explained that he couldn't do anything unless he had more information. As he finally calmed me down somewhat to go home, that is when we saw the helicopters and received the news. After receiving the news, things become very hazy. I ran away from James, he lost sight of me, and I have no recollection of that time so I’m not sure of the events at that point. I did realize eventually that I had predicted the tragedy, although I denied it to myself for a long time. I ended up disappearing from my home in AZ and left to California.
The psychic experiences continued to happen for about a year after that and that's why I left to try and get away from it. It’s been 10 years and I still have a hard time believing it, a couple of years after 9/11 I started accepting that I had some sort of a vision. I thought I was the only one who used writing and free association. It was astounding to me to find out that there are others who do the same and they even have a name for it (free writing) I think. Every 9/11 I have a hard time accepting it and I still doubt what I did and try and tell myself that I was crazy, there is a perfectly logical reason for all this but the more I think on it the more I can’t find one. I recently came back into contact with James and we've talked about it and he has confirmed it, I was not crazy. He remembers it exactly the way I do with a little more detail. I'm still not sure if that was the answer I was looking for. But for now I've decided that it would be best for me to embrace the gift, and try and control it and myself so I will never have to feel the terror anything like that again.
Thank you for your time, I appreciate your site very much. You’re doing a wonderful service for those of us who have stories to tell.
Stephanie B.
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