Tag Archives: tarot

Keeping the faith

26 Apr

swords03l

For the past week I’ve been telling myself, “You’re never going to meet anyone or get married or have kids or be loved at all, really, so just deal with it. Make your peace with it. And try and find something else to make you happy.”

I tell you what, it’s a tough pill to swallow.

I think I’ve cried even more than usual this week while repeating this jaunty little mantra in my head.

Well, today I went to see my psychic. I’ve decided to see her three times a year (once every four months). I first saw her the week after the pizza of doom, then just before Christmas. So far she’s been pretty accurate. More importantly, she’s made me happy. OK, happier. For a little while.

As usual, today she knew exactly how I felt. That while my life isn’t bad, it feels like there’s no point to it, no connection to anything, no reason, nothing good. And certainly nothing to look forward to.

Well, she looked at my tea leaves and suddenly exclaimed, “Oh my, I love this antique bath you’re going to buy. It’s a roll top.”

That alone is something to look forward to. I love taking baths.

But there was more.

Two kids. First a boy, then she wasn’t sure whether boy or girl. A man who loves me. A fat cat or small dog (again, hard for her to decipher). She told me with confidence she could, “100% guarantee this is going to happen.” And – to be fair – her prediction has been pretty much identical every time I’ve seen her. The bath was a new addition, mind you.

There were a few too many tarot cards showing swords for my liking. Specifically, swords sticking through a heart and swords sticking into someone’s back. But I guess that does sum up the way I feel at the moment. How disappointed I am with my life. How conned I feel by everything.

She said I need to believe and I need to visualise this happy family that she’s predicted. And that I have a female spirit looking after me who wanted me to see that today. I don’t want to get all paranormal with you, but I wonder if that’s my Nonna who passed away when I was 15.

And books. I’m going to write books.

And ride horses.

And bake cakes.

These are all my favourite things in the world. Ever.

So do I keep the faith and believe this is all going to come true? Or do I try and protect myself by telling myself that it won’t?

Apparently this man (the hot piece of ass who’s going to turn out to be the love of my life) is a water sign. She tells me this every time I see her.

My ex was right on the cusp of being a water sign. I suppose if today was about looking to the future then I shouldn’t dwell on that point.

A little reflection

21 Dec

Today I went to see the psychic who I saw the week after the pizza of doom.

It was a good experience. We concentrated a lot more on my career and what the hell I am going to do about that area of my life. She assured me, once again, that I am getting married and having two kids. And she seemed to know exactly how I feel right now. Mainly that I am slapping on a big smile for Christmas, but regularly crying because I’m terrified I’m going to spend my whole life alone.

Just as interesting, though, was my journey to her house. The same journey I made on the 10th of August.

The 10th of August was a hot day. I was wearing a crumpled dress and flip flops because I had no clean clothes and no ability to dress myself. I had no makeup on. No jewellery. My hair was wet. I stopped at Starbucks on the way and sat shaking while trying to drink my coffee. I listened to Taylor Swift as I walked up Holloway Road. I met the psychic and almost immediately burst into tears. I spent an hour wiping my face while she assured me that, “This had to happen.” A mantra I have repeated to myself ever since. I left and sat in the park with my friend Trudi and her kids, trying to enjoy the simple pleasure of them saying cute things and doing funny things. And the I got the bus home, wondering how the hell I was going to get through a Saturday night in my flat, on my own. I was actually terrified.

Today was quite cold, and very rainy. I wore a clean dress with warm tights and my winter coat. And a hat and scarf for good measure. And all my usual jewellry. And makeup. I stopped at Costa on the way and treated myself to a full fat gingerbread latte. I sat and drank it, watching the rain, and people rushing around doing last-minute Christmas things. I listened to Christmas music on my way up Holloway Road. I chatted away to the psychic, about family and work and dating. I left, went into town and picked up some odds and ends that I still needed for Christmas. And when I got home, I immediately put on my pyjamas and revelled in the warmth of my flat, the smell of my scented candles, and A Muppet Christmas Carol.

I cried tonight. Hard. I was thinking about how my career is as successful now as I could ever have hoped it would be. But I’m the most unhappy I have ever been.

Then I thought back to the 10th of August. And the week before that. And I realised how far I’ve come.

This had to happen.

What the psychic had to say

5 Sep

The weekend after the pizza of doom I went to see a psychic. This is something my friend and I did four years ago when her engagement got broken off and I was going through a break up of my own. The accuracy was startling. I also went to see a palm reader in Key West with the ex before the ex, and his perceptions were scarily correct too. They mostly revolved around the fact we had to break up. Which we did a few days later (that story is still to come). The point is, if someone can convince me that they genuinely have these powers, I put a lot of faith in what they have to tell me.

Anyway, I liked this psychic straight off because she had a cat who sat with us throughout the reading. I cried a lot, and I left an hour later feeling much better about life. There were various things that led me to believe she knew what she was talking about, e.g. “I was dreaming about New York all night, have you just been there?” Hell. Yes. I had got back two weeks before.

So what did she predict? Well, the long and short of it is a lot of happiness. She kept telling me that this, “had to happen”. That my ex will realise his mistake, but it will be too late because I’m going to meet someone else and it’s not long til I’m planning my wedding. Then I have two kids, and two dogs. Everything happens in twos for me.

Although the concept of marriage and kids makes me feel quite sick at the moment (the promise of dogs, on the other hand, was music to my ears) I’ve kind of been clinging onto this reading for the past few weeks. I keep repeating those words to myself. “This had to happen.” It feels reassuring.

But after an evening lying in bed watching House of Cards, my outlook isn’t as cheery and rainbow-filled as it used to be (I really am usually such a fricking happy person. Like, to an annoying degree.)

I’m left with a very scary question bothering me.

What if the psychic is wrong?