Last week I got to do a lot of animal communication sessions, most of them with cats. On Saturday alone I talked to 7 cats total. I am definitely a cat person, so I am not complaining at all. I have always had cats, and currently enjoy living with two cat companions that I love to pieces.

Talking to all these felines has me thinking back to when I was younger and communicated with animals in a more subconscious way. I think back to one cat in particular. I was 10 years old when my dad secretly got us a kitten while my mom was gone on vacation. We named her Klara, and she was the love of my life. At first, Klara was crazy like most kittens (she would literally climb our walls), but she developed pretty quickly into a terribly affectionate and connected companion.

Klara would put me to bed every night, and during the day she joined me on all my adventures at home. We had a large area of tall grass that reached me to the waist, where Klara and I would play Marco Polo. I would hide in the grass and meow for Klara to find me. Once she did, she'd run to go hide and meow until I found her. She was my closest companion growing up, especially in my teens when I was going through difficult times. Klara also helped me develop my photography, as she was my number one model for many years.

I moved out from home eventually, and Klara had to stay with my mom because my new apartment didn't allow cats. I went back home to visit one time when Klara had been missing for 2 weeks. I immediately went out and called for her: not just verbally but I called out to her soul. She came back home that very day. 

The connection we had was always a subconscious one. I would think about her, and she would come running. I didn't think of it as communication between us, necessarily, but just a very close intuitive connection.  She understood me and I understood her. I didn't question it, nor did I feel the need to label it. It was a gift to me.

I think this is how many of us feel about our connection with our companion animals. We understand them on an unspoken level, and they understand us. I didn't begin to communicate with animals in a conscious way until I began developing my mediumship and psychic abilities. I had always wanted to move in the direction of animal communication, but mediumship got me first. At one point in my mediumship development, I had the opportunity to attend a practice circle with the focus being animal communication. I hadn't taken any classes first, but when I tried it out, it felt so effortless and smooth, like I was always meant to do this.

Klara died a few years ago. It was one of the hardest losses for me, despite knowing that she's still connected to me from the other side. Most of the time when I connect with her, I just feel her presence, but around a year ago she did send me a little sign. I had been thinking about her quite a bit for a few days and also mentioning her to some friends. Then all of a sudden someone or something had managed to hack into my instagram account, changing my name to Olga. Olga happened to be Klara's name before we got her. I know enough now that there are no coincidences when it comes to signs from spirit.

Now I have two gorgeous cat companions, named Humphrey and Gilly, that I couldn't do without. They love to support me in my work, and will lay next to me any time I do phone readings from home.

One of my favorite parts about doing animal communication readings is that it demonstrates just how vast we and animals are as beings. Animals have intricate inner lives and unique roles in the world. There is so much more to us all than what meets the eye, and probably more than we can even imagine.

I am forever grateful to Klara for opening me up to do this work.

I hope you all have a lovely Winter Solstice and holidays.

Even though I was always interested in the metaphysical and wanted to pursue a career within the world of psychics and healers, I remained completely ignorant of just how sensitive I myself was to energy. When I was younger I knew that I could sense how a person was really feeling, but I didn't think much of it, as it wasn't a constant gift, nor did I think it was terribly strong in me. But, much later on, I realized I was wrong that whole time. We are all much more psychic and sensitive than we think.

Let me explain. My brother, who is 4 years older than me, started doing drugs when he was around 12 years old. He eventually progressed to his main addiction: amphetamines, in addition to other drugs. He is still in recovery from addiction. 

As you can imagine, it didn't make for a very stable home environment for me. Throughout that whole time, I was unconsciously soaking in that energy at home, and over the course of a few years I gradually developed symptoms of a mental disorder. When I was 18 years old, I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder, type 2, rapid cycler, with panic attacks and melancholic depression.

At the point when I got diagnosed, I had the following symptoms.

For about 1 week:

• Barely slept 4 hours a night and felt amazing.
• Extreme joy flowing through my body at all times, where I felt completely high and one with the universe (I have never felt that level of joy since).
• Extremely high libido
  
• Extremely outgoing
• Had racing thoughts and would talk a mile-a-minute
• I felt extremely psychic, and could predict the next two sentences out of your mouth, word for word.

Then something completely random would trigger a panic attack that would then immediately bring on about 2 weeks of:

• Deep depression and anxiety, and suicidal thoughts
  
• Falling asleep everywhere, all the time
• Going to bed crying, waking up crying
• Intense feelings of hate towards those around me
• Foul olfactory hallucinations

After two weeks of deep depression, I would gradually go into a more melancholic depressive state (a lighter depression). Then I would feel slightly normal again for maybe a week, until I was back to a week of hypomania and it would all start again.

After my diagnosis, I went to a couple psychics to see what they thought about it and if there was any way for me to heal. Both of them told me that they couldn't "see" that I was bipolar or mentally ill. All they could see was that I was sensitive. I left those sessions feeling kind of bummed out, honestly, because I thought they meant that I was "sensitive" as in emotionally over-reactive. Looking back, I can see what they actually meant was that I was "sensitive" as in sensitive to energy. I think that if only I had realized it then what they actually meant, it would have made my path a whole lot easier.

But as it was, I thought there was something seriously wrong with me. And in a sense, that was true. My psychiatrist prescribed me lamictal, a mood stabilizing medication. If we say that my worst hypomania was at a +10, and my worst depression was at a -10, and a normal mood is at a 0, then the medications put me at a constant -6. I hated it. In addition to feeling constantly numb, the meds also made me partially dyslexic and sometimes unable to recognize my own language when it was spoken. The side-effects were less than practical, especially seeing as how I was in my last year of high school.

I was on the meds for about 1 year, before I decided to approach it in a different way. These were my first steps towards managing my symptoms:

• I drastically reduced the amount of stress in my life (I went from a high-pressure high school to a very laid back 3-days/week art school)
• I moved out from home (I was at the right age anyway, but it was a huge help to me, energetically)
• I began doing some cognitive behavioral self therapy (Essentially out-smarting your negative thoughts. This was also hugely helpful)
• I made sure to keep regular hours for sleep
• I made sure to supplement with omega 3s (to help brain function mainly, and helping my neurotransmitters communicate properly)

My current understanding of what happened to me when I developed my symptoms is that I had been soaking in all of that imbalanced energy of my brother and all the effects his drug-addiction had in our lives. Because I didn't realize I was taking in all that energy, without any way of getting rid of it from myself, it gradually manifested in bipolar symptoms for me. Bipolar disorder is actually very similar to the cycles of mania/depression that one can go through when addicted to methamphetamine.

What I was doing was being what I believe many of us are: an empath. This is what we call someone who feels other people's emotions and physical issues as if it was their own. We will often do this completely unconsciously. For example, you might walk into a room, and begin to feel irritated and short tempered for no reason, without knowing that another person in the room is seriously irritated at their boss over something. Or as you start talking to a co-worker, you notice an ache in your lower back that wasn't there before, without realizing that your co-worker has serious back issues. We are unaware that we're doing it, so we assume it's our own because it feels just like our own. 

I think of it as our intuitive bodies picking up on anything unusual or out of balance in our surroundings, in order to warn us about it (just in case it's something to worry about). In addition to the list above of things that helped, I eventually also started meditating more. I got to know my own energy better, and did various energy work to keep it clear.

Through meditation I also learned to discern between my own energy and everyone else's. Now, one of my favorite sayings is "Not my circus, not my monkeys", and I use it as a daily mantra to reminder myself that it isn't my job to take on other people's energy. I think one of the biggest lessons I have learned from drug addiction affecting one of my own family members is that you can't fix their problems. They have to do the work themselves, and they have to want to do it. And the same goes for everyone. You are only ever responsible for your own energy. Not everyone else's.

Along with that, I also learned to have stronger boundaries. I see this with a lot of people who are very empathic, is that we tend to be quite wishy-washy with our boundaries and what we're OK with that other people do to us. As a result, we are wishy-washy with the energy we allow in too. It took a while for me to sift through my ideas of self-worth, but I eventually got a stronger sense of boundaries (still a work in progress though).

Thankfully, I no longer have my bipolar symptoms. I managed to slowly work myself out of it, but it took quite a few years to be completely rid of. I do still find myself affected by other people's energy, but that just comes with being sensitive. I am particularly tuned in to my husband's moods and energy, as I am sure many spouses can relate to. But now I am much more aware of it. I know how to deal with it.  From experience, I can assume that most of the out-of-place moods and feelings I experience are not actually mine, but someone else's. And then I can take steps to deal with that. Sometimes that also means removing myself physically from a person's presence. Other times it's just reminding myself that it's not my circus, and not my monkeys.

I think I might write more in the future about what I find helpful for empaths. For now, I hope you all have a lovely week. We've just had a streak of 10 clear sunny days here in Portland, but it is getting pretty chilly too. Just one more week til the holidays.