Too many times I have seen them diving under the waves. The horrible part is when they don't come up for air. This is when I start to panic, wondering if I should toss off my coat and shoes, pull off my heavy jeans, and go after them.
I don't want to hesitate too long JUST IN CASE it is a real living person, and not a residue from the past. The difficult thing about being a "Sensitive" is I get so used to walking with the dead, I forget to separate the emotions, the ability to differentiate between what is real, or simply "residual".
It makes my stomach hurt to think I am watching someone drown. So far, it is just memories imprinted into the area. I hear their cries as they struggle to survive when they change their minds, and try to go back... Too late. I feel the pain and suffering as they try to hold on. Most of them get so tired; they cannot hold their weight above the cold waters of the Pacific.
The Hispanic, who try to go around the Border Patrol, they don't swim so well. It is like a massive wave of images inundating my minds eye. This is one of my experiences. What I saw on one specific day.
I took a drive down to IMPERIAL BEACH with my Husband. It was there, I felt a heavy breath of sorrow hanging over me. I never know if I will be able to tolerate what I will be shown, but I can't stop living because the dead intersect my path. Hesitation overwhelmed me, and I thought long and hard about what I was feeling.
I wasn't sure if I should chance it and go walking along the beach, but it was such a pretty day. My Husband was leaving it up to me. I made the wrong decision on that day. I should have gone back to the car, but I wanted to take a stroll along the waters edge. It wasn't the romantic hand holding I had envisioned.
My heart was growing heavier by the moment, and I tried so hard to ignore "Them". It isn't something I can shut out, all those voices crying out from the sea. My knees were growing wobbly, and it weakened me to the point where I could no longer stand. Right there, I let go of my Husbands supportive arm, and sat down on the cool sand.
He joined me and placed an arm around my shoulder. Out of curiosity, I asked him if he could hear the cries. He looked into my eyes, and said, "No..." in a soft whisper.
He knows not to talk too loudly when I am in the throes of the Paranormal. I told him what I was seeing, and he held me tighter. I was shaking pretty good by this point, and crying along with the wave of voices.
I saw them bobbing and weaving along in the sea. I witnessed them giving in and floating face down. Most of them had become caught in a rip tide, and pulled out too deep. They were so tired! The need to survive is strong, but the body gives in when it is time to give up.
It isn't the nicest of sounds, it is an unpleasant visual as well, but I don't have a choice. On that day, I saw hundreds from the past. Men, women, children, teens. Each death, unfortunate, untimely.
My Husband watched me mourn each and every one of them. Quietly, He sat there next to me, arms wrapped around me as I wept for them. I described what I saw, I told him so he could understand. He listened with concern and sadness.
He believes in me, I am blessed...
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