My name is Alba. Here is my story from various points of view:
The beginning of my experience: Getting to know Andrea
I was 32 years old at that time. I was married and had become mother of a beautiful child, Dara, when the company I was working for as a secretary moved too far away from where I lived and I decided to resign, I stayed home with Dara until she was 18 months old.
I then decided, (don’t ask me why, an unconscious impulse maybe) to start working as a social worker for a young man called Andrea. (I responded to a request on the radio for someone who could take him to school and help him with homework). He was 19 years old when I first met him.
Andrea was born healthy but because of a vaccination against polio he actually got polio and a cerebral infection that soon led him to end up completely paralyzed and unable to talk.
He spent many years of his childhood considered to be a “vegetable” but his parents took him to the USA and found out, thanks to an organization who look after people like him, that he was very intelligent and able to understand and communicate through the movement of his eyes – the only part of his body at that time under his willing control.
Later on, a cousin of his, a young lady, found out when Andrea was around 11 years old, that by putting a pen in his hand and have his hand held in her hand, Andrea could actually write and communicate. Not everybody managed to assist him to write in this way but he eventually found people who could and attended school like everybody else up to his third year of high school, which was the time when I first met him. My role was to stay with him at school and enable him to write his home work, school tests and help him communicate with his school mates. It is funny how nobody, including his parents, thought that it was actually weird that he, being paralyzed, clinically proven, had managed to move his hands and write! But many people could help him write his thoughts and questions this way.
In any case I did as they told me and had his hand in mine with the pen inside and soon noticed soon that there were some days where I “felt” his hand “pushing and write” and some others where I could not “feel” his hand doing anything and we were not able to talk to each other. He kept writing to me not to give up and relax because he knew that I would be able to write with him and to be able to “feel” what he wished to tell me.
Discovery of telepathy
Once during class time, I wondered (only in my head as a thought ) if he had completed the translation from Latin he was supposed to do two days before. At that point I “felt” his answer together at the same time in my mind and in his hand and he wrote “yes I completed it with my father yesterday”. I was shocked because I was sure that I had not open my mouth and then asked myself as a thought again “My God, is he reading in my mind?” and he wrote yes I am , don’t get scared please.
I didn’t get scared, I was petrified! I let go of his hand and ran out the classroom! It took me a week to be able to stay next to him again and “feel” his writing again. We started talking about his way of communicating. He explained to me that he could not talk and found out as a child overtime an alternative way of having people understand what he wished to say. He also used to call and talk mentally, or telepathically as some people define it. For instance: to his parents during the night when they were sleeping and he needed to be changed or else; he told me he actually communicated mentally with them and not with his hands, but that most people, including his parents would have refused to communicate with him if they had known the way he managed to do it. He also explained to me why I, at times, could hear his thinking and could not at other times. When I was relaxed and not scared my mind worked as a receiver, however when I doubted if the whole thing could work, I would close my channel of communication and capacity to “hear him”. In other words I had to believe in it to have to have it happened.
Therefore I had to decide: whether to go on with this experience and change many of my ideas (I did not believe in telepathy ) and beliefs or just forget about it and do as other people had done, just believe it was his paralyzed hand that could move or not even bother to ask myself how it worked.
I was not a believer in paranormal phenomena; I had grown up in a kind of family where nobody had to believe things that were not scientifically proven. I had no faith in God or life after death, I hated church and priests and many, many times I believed I was going crazy. Telepathy, how can that be? Everyone says it does not exist and yet I was experiencing it and I was not even the only one in that class: three other schoolmates communicated with Andrea that way and they often came to me telling me that Andrea seems to write things as if he knew much more about their personal life that he was supposed to know.
I did not tell anybody else about telepathy for many months as I thought it may scare his friends and did not wish him to be scary to people he liked and also because it was all so crazy for me to believe at times! Since I‘ve always been quite a stubborn person, before accepting telepathy to be a reality for me I asked Andrea for many and various proof . . For example I would have him tell me something telepathically then ask a school mate, Nadia, to write with him what he had just told me. And they wrote it exactly as it was. He then taught me how to communicate with him without the need of the pen held together. It was fun too, we could chat during boring lessons at school without being caught by teachers!!
When he was hospitalized and I had learned by then how to communicate with him telepathically at a distance, I would ask him to give me the rates of his clinical data (oxygen or pressure) which were registered on a book at the hospital and then I used to go and see him at the hospital and check if the rates I was given were correct and they were and so on. I eventually decided I had and wanted to change my previous belief and what the hell believe in what my experience really was despite what everybody else might have said about me.
The spiritual path: If telepathy is possible then maybe other things he was telling me could be possible
Well he started talking to me, affirming that he was like in the middle between the earthly dimension and the spiritual one, that we (all human beings) are all souls incarnated in bodies but that our spiritual essence is much greater than what our 5 senses can tell or perceive. We are all here, living this experience of life on earth, everyone with their own personal experiences, learning various and different things. That we – human beings – are helped all the time by the spiritual world, (weather we perceive them or not) by presences that some people call angels (those who have a catholic imprinting), but that every religion has their own way to describe them or this spiritual dimension. He told me he could not only hear and talk to them but also see them. He could see “my angel/spiritual guide and said that if I wished (and only if wished to do so) I could talk to him the same way I had managed to learn to talk to him.
Even these concepts, were, in the beginning, hard for me to accept, but he had shown me and proved that we could communicate telepathically so, maybe it was worthwhile listening to him about others things he affirmed. I want to point out that he NEVER forced me to believe in something. He always respected my will and waited until I decided to know more about it before telling me about spiritual things or about his voices if you prefer to refer to them that way. And in any case he always pointed out that I – as every one else – had the right to have whatever point of view I wished to have. He respected all religions, even if some how he would point out limits of each one. He would state things of this sort: human truths are many – God’s truth is only one His only dogma was: God exists. He was not willing to doubt that, no way, I could believe what I wished but he was certain of that.
Some contents of Andrea’s opinions and of my voices/spiritual guides too
We started having arguments and interesting conversations about God and his way of perceiving God. He strongly believed in Him, but the God he “described me” was so different from the kind of God I had been told! It was a God of Love that would welcome us at the end of our life always with love. No hell , no terrible judgment, no punishment . According to what he believed in, souls come to earth to learn what they wished to learn and bring the message they want to others.
According to his vision (and to mine too at the moment) there is no such thing as sins. If human beings make mistakes, they just experience the consequences of some actions and can do better if they wish to other times. Souls simply acknowledge what they managed to do during their experience of life on earth and in relation to what they had decided to learn from life before incarnating and after death they know more about themselves and may do better in other experiences if they wished to do so.
Hell is not a place, it is a state of mind that may occur to souls when they are too far away from Love/God. He added that we are not lonely in our difficult and rich experience of life, from the spiritual dimension we are constantly helped by good souls. That God always help us going along the path we asked for. Some events we go through are decided by the soul before incarnating. We will all come back home to Love sooner or later. What we learn from a certain experience and some steps we decide to take after are up to us instead. For example it was decided we would meet, but it was up to me to go on exploring this experience and believe in it or not.
Andrea and I became closer and closer, the more I knew him, the more my life was changing and becoming richer and my vision of life so much better, sufferance, pain, and all the bad things that happen in life started making sense to me, even the bad ones I had to go through in my childhood. My vision of the meaning of life, thanks to him, changed. Actually, thanks to him and my different way of seeing life, Life made sense finally to me.
He taught me how to talk to my “spiritual guide”, my angel, as Christians would call it, or my voice as others may call it. I spent a year asking my spirit lots of questions. I wrote them down in a diary as I would write down my conversations with Andrea. I fell in love with him deeply, not of course in way I could consider him a boyfriend, but I certainly loved him with all my heart and I will always be grateful to him because he taught me about Love, God’s Love and allowed me to start a new personal spiritual path that means so much to me and it is of a great help in my life even in difficult moment I gave to go through.
Andrea “died” in 1995 for a very severe bronchitis. During the 4 months in hospital I was always next to him. He could even see a person who was lying down on a bed next him being ready to leave his material body and go to the spiritual life. He knew he would die before the machines would tell doctors this would happen. He had told me I could become a natural healer (I did not believe in alternative medicines but I years later found out I was a natural healer and I could help many friends that way). A year after he had died my mother was sick with a cancer. Doctors did not know how long she would have lived, maybe just months. She was suffering so much I was crying one day and prayed and asked Andrea to tell me how long she had to suffer that way: Andrea told me “she’s running fast towards love and light.. 5 days dear, no more”. I had a sort of a vision that she would die with her hand in mine on the fifth day, in the morning when my father used to go (I generally went to see her in the afternoon) my father’s car broke down so he asked me to go and see her in the morning in his place. I went and she died that very day, with her hand in mine.
Since then, various other special things have occurred to me, but I don’t think this is the right context to tell them. What I experienced certainly reinforced my belief in God and life after death, but I don’t wish to convince the whole world that my truth is universal . It is my truth and personal conviction.
I certainly don’t care anymore about what anybody else says about my belief . I believe in God, and in life after life even if I know that our mind is too narrow minded to understand how complex the whole Devine truth is this is my present belief.
I still talk to Andrea when I wish to. He always come to me and comforts me. I talk to my spiritual guides too when I wish to. My life is much happier than before I met Andrea. I will always love him dearly.
The same story seen from the medical point of view:
If I tell this story to a psychiatrist (a narrow minded one) I would certainly get a diagnosis of schizophrenia or similar and get a lots of medications to get rid of my voices.
The same story: if you consider trauma as connected with the experience of hearing voices
With my patients, I see that it is almost always possible to see a close connection between their experience of hearing voices, what the voices tell them and the traumas that occurred in their life. In this sense I must say I can well be put into this category too. I had without a doubt a very hard childhood and for sure experienced psychological and physical trauma. I was born 3 months premature, spent my first year of life in a hospital and many more in and out of hospitals with health problems.
My mother had had a very bad childhood and became very depressed and an alcoholic. She would become very violent when she drank and both physically but above all psychologically abused me and my sister. She also tried to sexually abuse me when I was 14 (in the sense that she tried to touch me and had a very morbid attitude and interest in my personal sexual behavior. I don’t remember anything at all of my life before the age of nine. So I suppose some kind of trauma also occurred before that age. My sister remembers an uncle who tried to abuse of her sexually in the sense that she remembers him mostly touching her under her skirt and touching me too while pretending to be “the good uncle”. I don’t remember anything about that, it may be, but as I said my mind goes blank if I tried to remember who I was, what I did or what they did to me before the age of nine.
My father, a very intelligent and calm man, loved my mother a lot, but was not able to protect us from her. He would assist in the violence we were subjected to without defending us; he actually would be very sorry for us, but in the end would just come to us and ask us to forgive mommy and say to her we were sorry even if we were right, because she was sick.
I saw my mother destroying herself and her life every day for years. She used to be lively and intelligent but by the time I was 10 she had ended up for months and months, closed up lying on a bed drinking , arguing and watching TV, suffering a lot and for the years that followed, up to her death, she kept telling us we were the reason for her unhappiness She told us she was unhappy because we did not obey her or because we wished to go out and be independent or because she had to looked after us and sacrificed herself for us, instead of doing something for herself, and so on.
In the final years I had managed to have a better relationship with her, being married and having moved out of her house and in control of my life, but at that point I became the mother and she became the daughter, calling me everyday for support. Of course I loved her and hated her at the same time. She died a year after Andrea died and in some respect I started becoming free from this point in my life.
I forgave her, I believe, for what she had done to me, but it took me years and years to do it. She was very nasty to us, but certainly she did not realize all the pain she was causing us. She did not know how to get her life back and probably she had a lot of anger towards herself too, that she could not accept and threw it out on to us. These were times when depression and being an alcoholic was kept as a private problem and not spoken about to other people.
Profile of my voices
So yes, I had traumas and yes I ended up somehow hearing voices.
How many voices?
Mainly the one of my beloved Andrea plus the one I call my spiritual guide’s voice (Quintin).
I know there are another two voices (Guido and Patricia), I can talk to them if I wish to, but I generally don’t because they told me that they are next to me, to help me when I practice natural healing (when I do it I do it more or less like Barbara Brennand does it – I don’t know if you know her – she is a doctor /physic who became a natural healer and has a school in USA where she teaches people how to get in touch with spiritual guides in order to heal people).
Are they male or female?
Andrea is a male voice, the same as he had when he was alive. My spiritual guide has a male voice and his name is Quintin, the other two are male and female. They never command, never impose their will on me, they mostly help my think about things from a very positive point of view and support me most of the time. They pray with me if I asked them to, to help people who are in difficult situations. Andreas’ voice is not only a voice. he has a special way of making me feel his presence, a sweet warm feeling around me and he knows how to make me feel in what part of the room he is. Sometimes I also felt his “touch” under my chin, something he also used to do when he was alive.
Have I ever had bad voices?
Not really, only once I happened to receive some insults. I told Andrea (who was alive at that time) and asked for help and I got rid of it. Another time, (right at the beginning of my strange experiences) I was in the underground and heard many, many voices which were trying to talk to me all together. They were not nasty, they were like excited that they had found someone who could hear them and asked me to refer the things they were telling me to some people in the underground. Some of them I managed to understand, they were willing to have some relatives that were there in the underground to be reassured about the fact they were fine and alive in “heaven”. But I did not like all that mess of voices, it was confusing, even if they were gentle. ]
Andrea suggested me to ask them gently (in the name of God) to leave me in peace and that the only entities I wanted to talk to were my three spiritual guides. If they were good souls, as he thought, they would just respect my wshes and go away. I did so and they never bothered me anymore.
If they insist, despite your wishes – he said – and ask you to do things you don’t want to do, they are probably souls of a “lower spiritual level” who have not yet understood the nature of God: if this situation occurs, he suggested I had to pray with the help of my spiritual guides and I would protect myself from them. I did it and it worked.
I never had problems anymore with “bad voices” since then. And that was almost 12 years ago. I now talk to Andrea when I wish, it could be every 3/6 months or once a week if I’m going through a very difficult time. His father and his mother also have learned to talk to their son Andrea telepathically. His friend Nadia (his school mate at high school ) does it too. His friend Gabriella does it too. Some other people hear him too.
Andrea’s fine, he has a lot to do “up there” so I don’t bother him that often. I have a lot to do down here too.
So that’s my story believe it or not.
- You can see me as a voice hearer who has voices because of traumas
- You can see me as a schizophrenic
- You can see me as a girl with a lot of imagination
Maybe traumas allow a person to use some other senses that generally people don’t use, but have. Maybe I will find out one day that Andrea’s voice or my spiritual guide’s voices are just part of my deepest spiritual inner side I don’t know about. The fact is, they are not a problem for me, in fact just the opposite.
I see myself as a very lucky person who has had the possibility to meet a very special young man and special soul who taught me through his example of life that God’s love exists and that I can learn a lot in this difficult and fascinating journey that life is.
For personal reasons, Alba is a nickname
