Gift [An Overview] – 1975 – Present



Gift [An Overview] – 1975 – Present

“Our Little Secret!” 1969

Cold Broken Walls and Piles 1970

I received an email the other day and inside was a question “Are your stories and tales’, works of fiction?” I answered back with the answer of “Nope, they are all based upon facts and dates of my life. I only write fiction when l am tagged to. I change the names of other people, but my name and Suze’s and Scrappy’s are all real.” Furthermore, l was asked if my ‘spooky tales’, were real? Yes, once more l answered the same way, l only write about what l have experienced in my life. The last question was when was l going to pen something from that genre again? I answered with the simple words of “When l have the time.”

Gift isn’t a story or a tale as such, it is more of an overview of a period of 40 plus years of my life in which strange things have happened to me, the stories that l will write over the coming year all spring up out of various times in my life which have stemmed from what many including my own Mother referred to as a Gift or the Gift.

What are we talking about? Well, l am referring to what many class as perhaps a connection with the inner depths of my mind, although others may interpret it as  maybe more spiritual, an inner sense of balance or even chaos as the Gift isn’t something l ever craved for it was just a part of me that chose to not remain dormant once l hit a certain age which for me was during puberty when it surfaced properly and it has stayed with me since then.

In a nushell, it is about me seeing things that others cannot, or detecting a strangeness in the air around me, feeling an emotion coursing through time, being able to communicate with my spirit guide and using the gift to at times help me out a bit.

I first noticed ‘strange things’ in my life at around the age of 12, which was 1975. I had a tough childhood, l lived already at that age in a dysfunctional family, with no firm foundations, we were always moving from pillar to post because of Dad’s career, so it wasn’t easy always being the new kid in class. Add to that the stresses of living in a violent home and then further add to the mix my brain that never slowed down. It was always travelling seemingly at warp speed. My head was filled with facts, figures and ideas and l was always having some kind of anxiety attack, so when the shadows first started appearing in my life, they were not greatly received nor welcome!

I truly thought l was going insane! To boot l couldn’t talk to anyone about it either, because l was fearful that someone might think l was more than a little wierd! In the end when l spoke to my Mother about it, all she would answer with was “Just let it be Rory, bide your time, but learn to accept the gift.”

At 12, l was thought my Mother was perhaps a little bit on the batty side!

But the shadows were everywhere l looked, not just corner of the eye stuff either. I saw figures in my bedroom, outside in the garden, at school and just walking around the house. if that wasn’t bad enough, l would often hear voices at the most awkward of times too. Sitting on the toilet, having a bath, reading, and most of all when l tried to sleep at night! Upon retiring to bed, l would try and read but the voices were always with me. Some asked questions of me, whilst others begged me to help them. It was maddening!

Yet, all my Mother continued to say was “Learn to accept your gift Rory!”



Which really didn’t help the situation, and most assuredly it didn’t help me! This continued for two more years, and it was only in early 1978 when l started to ‘accept the gift’, not long after l turned 15. In the years leading to that age, l learned to write down everything so l had a record of it, in case for whatever reaon l had need to use it. I used to try and make sense of it, and all l managed to do was write down fiction stories which l used to submit to my English teachers and l received very good marks for my creativity. they used to say l had a colourful and vivid imagination! Not realising that most of my stories were not really fiction, but mostly factual!

The biggest hurdle l faced was trying to manage the gift itself, my brain was constantly working overtime, and when the shadows and the voices appeared on the scene, it just made my mind become all too easily overwhelmed and l would melt down or express myself in fits of temper.

Wasn’t easy is all l can really say!

However if l had at any one point in my life thought that life itself wasn’t complicated, come 15 l was to learn a whole new term for complicated!

I learned to accept my gift during the time the poltergeists came to play in the house in 1978, and over the years that followed l learned to not just accept it, but to use it wisely and hone it or fine tune it. So by my mid thirties l was used to it functioning in the background. These days l tend to have the gift in a form of sleep mode, it is always ticking away in the background, but if l need to know something l can simply ‘reconnect with my guide’, ask what l want and then put it back into sleep mode… should l wish to.

In 1980, one of my wierdest discoveries happened whilst at a carnival in Woking, another time when l had my palms read in London in 1988, from 1981 – 1984 l was involved in ghost hunting and experienced a lot of strange events during those years. Another strange event happened when l hit 30 in 1993.

Over the years l have had a lot to do with apparitions and ghostly figures and l shall write about all of those in due course, and even now in 2018 l still experience the shadows. As said over the next few months l shall write about the Gift, in the good, bad and downright ugliness of it all.

But to answer the question, are my tales and stories works of fiction? Oh no, not even close, they are all factual.


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