My Spiritual Awakening

by Wendi
(Nampa, Boise, ID)

Okay. It's kind of disturubing, so I'll only give you some of what happened, unless you wish to know more...


Sunday, I was on my favorite art site and noticed an odd flock of posts of bullies (in some form). To count there were 3 proceeding the event. So while I made a reply to one (who had submitted one drawing of bullying) I saw a shirt sold by the site. I thought it was cute, in it's own right. It proudly read "Pageview Whore" in pleasant writing. I decided to post my comment, to the effect of "just because a word is deemed immoral does not mean it's always going to be used that way." I posted and there were a few other comments I wanted to reply to. I found a person saying "If I got that, the only word people would see is 'whore'. I'm buying it!" I replied with something along the lines of "Whore isn't such a bad term after all is it?" I was being myself, honest.

I began to get an odd feeling, that pressure in the center of my forehead. An image of a magazine flashed through my mind, a young woman "bullied to suicide". More follow. I get a painful tingle running all over my body, as if invisible needles were being shoved into me. I wrote it off as my imagination. Then, voices began ringing in my head, mostly of young women and girls, others, young men and boys. One of the boys was crying out for "help" the rest were looking quite depressed, others, scared. Then, the women and girls came. Many of them had lines of dark mascara running down their faces, appearing ghoulish, disturbing, scared and sad. I was flooded with images of needles, knives, daggers and blood.

Images of bullies and being bullied flickered through my mind at rapid speeds, one of them reading from the magazine on the young woman, the caption in the corner "accused 'mean girls'". Some bullies appeared to me from cartoons (in the 'visions' it wasn't like I was "watching" as much as I was "actually there" and "living" the torment), others real people. The same as of the ones 'bullied to their deaths' all seemed to be trying to tell me something.

The voices were pleading, others were warnings, and the rest were frightened and sad. I began to wonder about posting 'one more reply'. "Please you don't need to do this." A late teen pleaded to me, followed by frightened, tortured screaming and sobbing. "Are you sure this is what you want to do?" A small boy asked. "I hope you know what you're getting yourself into." Warned a voice from another girl. I would get up to make my hot cocoa, something to eat, anything. The nightmares remained. It felt as if someone was following me as well.

The voices faded, so did the images, until I decided to post my comment. They came back stronger and more vivid. I would blow it off as an over active imagination, or my "decieving" intuition. As I went to post, I felt a warm pressure on my hand, like someone was trying to pull it away. I heard, very distinct "Please I'm begging you, don't do this to yourself. Don't put yourself through this." (Again, my imagination) I thought. So I posted!

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