True Psychic Stories

By Diana Armstrong

Strange and paranormal events in my life. Being saved by my guardian angel in The whirlpool, Grandad's ghost, the plant that committed suicide and many others.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Diana Armstrong
• Release date: Feb 24, 2012
• ISBN: 9780952324027

Diana Armstrong

I am an Author, Healer and Psychological Astrologer. I offer Astrological counselling and Astrological chart interpretations and advice on an individual level. I also offer Astrology from a business perspective where a Financial Astrological Report is created for that particular Business needs. As a Professional Numerologist also, I provide Numerology as a science in its own right. Together these two disciplines form a complete synergy of the Cosmic Vibrations that influence each individual. In addition to my profession as an Astrologer and Numerologist, I am also a Qualified Natural Health Practitioner, Meditation Therapist and Author of Self Help and Numerology Books.

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Preface

Writing this book has been of enormous pleasure. It also took me several years to be able to make up my mind to share these true experiences with the general public I decided it was a good thing to do, even though I was often plagued by all the ‘what ifs.’ What if my friends and other people thought me even weirder than some of them already felt?

But this book is written for you who may have had similar experiences and thought that you were all alone with them.

I have written it in the hope of offering you the support of being able to voice some of your own unique experiences. They should not be hidden away as if they are something ‘wrong.’ Being ‘psychic’ is a natural state in all of us. Problems only arise when we who have these experiences in abundance are offered little or no help and understanding; and we are left on our own to stumble along however we can; always made to feel that there is something ‘strange’ about us as being able to experience or demonstrate these abilities.

Diana

Diana! Diana! Where Are You?

Diana! Diana! Diana!!! The words sounded as if they were coming from so far away. Where is she now? the voice demanded. Diana, get back here! Gradually I opened my eyes to see a figure standing over me about three inches from my face, so close I could feel her breath on my cheeks. For a moment I struggled to remember this familiar face.

Oh, it’s you, yes, yes mum? I was fully back now. What is it mum?

"Diana, how many times have I told you to stop day dreaming?

I have asked you to do your chores an hour ago, and you haven’t done a single thing. Sorry mum, I just can’t help it."

This was my chant every time I picked up a favourite book or comic. It used to take me simply ages to finish a chapter, never mind a whole book. Not that I was a slow reader; I loved words.

I grew up with books around me. Mum was an avid reader and so was dad. They used to joke that sometimes we would all be in the house and no one would ever know. We were that quiet.

Each of us would be immersed in our own world, the world that was a book. How many times mum would have to call me back from a ‘day dream?’ I often resented being called back, because in my comic/ book world I could do things that I could not in this world.

In my early years it was in my books and comics that I met, played, interacted and lived with many of my favourite characters.

They seemed to me as real as any other of those in the outside world. This concept was never strange to me. It happened so often that I perceived it as normal, as with so many things that occurred in my life - until I grew up. I would go into the world of superman comics, where he would fly me way up in the sky, or to some planet. I would converse with Lois Lane, who after superman was my best comic friend. To me these experiences were real. I often came back from my comic world breathless, where superman had just flown me to some exotic place or other, actually still feeling the warmth of that place on my cheeks, or still being able to smell the sweet scent of a flower.

I didn’t know then that these books and comics were portals into which I could pass safely through, and through the characters of the comics I would be befriended and lovingly tutored without realising it as such at the time, by those whom I later came to know as my guardians and I their ward. I was being tutored for a time in the future, where every word spoken by these guardians would come back to me at the most appropriate times in my life. They would return to save me from a harm I had no idea was always lurking in the shadows, awaiting any opportunity to take my young life before I had a chance to live it. Through my book portals I was gently introduced into the world of guardians and magic and astral travelling.

So much of what happened to me as a child started a process of logging itself somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind when I turned a corner at puberty. My ‘unusual’ experiences began to take a back seat as my girl friends and I became aware of things we could giggle about over boys. Who were the tallest, the cutest, and the sexiest? It was not until much later when I was pregnant with my first child that my memories and experiences came back full blown, with some extra new ones to boot.

I first saw it around a shoe, and I could not understand what it was that I was seeing. I thought there was something wrong with my eyes. But the phenomenon wouldn’t go away no matter how much I squinted my eyes, or looked away and then refocused again. I could see a vivid glow of colour around the shoe. Then I could see other colours around any object. I quickly took a trip to the optician who informed me that there was nothing wrong with my eyes!

I was worried but yet fascinated by this new thing that was happening to me. I kept it to myself for about a week or so, and then asked my husband if he could see lights around inanimate objects, to which he replied that I was getting weirder and weirder. But about two weeks after I first began seeing these lights around inanimate objects, I saw something similar around him. This however was much more elaborate. I could only perceive one basic colour around objects, but with him I began to be aware of many colours. Shades of blues and greens and oranges, in fact most of the colours in the rainbow spectrum, and for a while this was all I could see.

I was afraid to go out because as I looked out of my window all that I could observe were simply blobs of colour moving around. People had now become to me shades and orbs of moving colour, and it was difficult to make out physical features. I literally prayed for this phenomenon to go away even though it was so beautiful. I was afraid that if I venture outside I could get lost, that I would not recognise who anyone was as I could not see them, only colours. Thankfully this did not last long, and people were again beginning to look ‘normal’ once more. I came to learn that there was a name for these ‘lights’ around people and objects. It was called an aura.

From this point on I could perform a physical movement with my eyes which is hard to describe in words, but I could somehow cause a slight shift in focus and I would readily observe these auras. I only had to look in the mirror to get a good view of my own.

One peculiar phenomenon was that I also started to see auras not only surrounding people within my own vicinity, but also around those who were on television, and people in books and magazines and photographs. This phenomenon took on a much more unusual, and for a time disturbing to me aspect. As I looked at a person on the printed page or photo, the picture would animate, albeit slowly, as in slow motion, and at first I thought I was imagining things. But as I continued to focus on a subject, the same thing would occur. I spent hours pouring over newspapers and magazines and old photos. Then this went even one more step further. The person would appear to regress in stages where I could see them finally as an embryo. This even happened when I looked at pictures of birds and animals!

GRANDDAD’S GHOST

A True Psychic Tale!

One day after school, I went to visit my grandmother who lived just down the hill from my school. In fact, when I was at her house, I could see my school, perched at