I never really believed or gave it much thought until I moved into the house from hell seven years ago. Almost the second I walked through the door I felt ill, uneasy. Ds was newborn and as I bf him in the night, a woman would walk about the hall way. Freaked me out but was so exhausted put it down to tiredness.
Then my brother lost his partner suddenly, early forties. Devastated, he asked me to see a psychic and the psychic, immediately upon meeting me said ' I hate your house, you must sell that house, there is bad energy and it's making you ill'. He came and tried to cleanse it, free of charge, and confirmed what the neighbours told me, that a man hanged himself from the attic. His last words to me were ' please get out of here, as soon as you can. I would say August is significant, try to leave sooner'
31st August I am bleeding, close to death after a routine op went wrong. After emergency trachy, without drugs, am whisked to theatre again and a handsome nurse with blue eyes holds my hand and tells me he was finished his shift but heard about the emergency. Did I want him to stay with me while they operated? And he would be there when I woke up. I did, he was amazing, and he came and had coffee with my parents and dh when I was recovering. Two weeks later I return with a gift for him. And he doesn't exist.
The hospital, which was small, a private hospital that mainly did plastic surgery I think, had no man by that name, no record, nothing. The doctor said I would have been in such shock I could have imagined it. But not my parents?
I really believe now. And oddly, don't fear death. Didn't, even when I was close to dying , I just wasn't ready to leave my life, my family.