Sometimes life will tear your house apart so you can see the cracks in the foundation.
I didn’t sleep a wink last night.
At first I thought it was because of stress. Then I thought it might have been the one decaf coffee I drank early that morning. So, I meditated. I did calming breaths, took a long cool shower, used lavender oil – all the things that would normally help.
My eyes remained resolutely open.
As I took stock I became aware that I was not just awake – I was also suffering a severe case of psychic anxiety. It’s a feeling I get before something happens. Something bad.
Alright, I thought to myself, I’ve got this. I’ll just lie quietly and send love and light to the world, and the feeling will pass. But it didn’t.
The hours ticked by. I gave up worrying about how I would function today on no sleep. Instead I did my best to rest, eyes closed, deeply aware of every sound, including my own heart beat.
Then I saw her face. Anna (please note that I have changed the names for privacy), an Australian client of mine whom I haven’t spoken with for years. I became aware of her in a house, upstairs in a house, somewhere in London, late in the afternoon.
Anna was in the bathroom, putting thick makeup over a bruised face. Her hand shook. Her hair was greasy and lank. She was terrified. Downstairs I could smell a fragrant curry cooking, the house was neat and tidy, quiet music played. Young children were playing with toy cars on a special carpet in their bedroom, already bathed and in their pajamas.
I became terrified too.
I reached for my phone and began scrolling through Facebook until I found her. She was married now, to the same guy I had warned her about. But how would I contact her?
I put her name in my contacts search and amazingly it came up. Thank you iPhone and Facebook. It showed a website for her cake decoration business. I Facetimed the number.
It rang out. I waited a few minutes and tried again. This time Anna answered.
‘Nicole,’ she croaked in surprise. ‘Why are you calling me?’
‘I believe you are in danger. I had a premonition. Anna, you need to leave the house.’ It seemed so dramatic as I said it, but Anna nodded in agreement.
‘He’s going to kill me, isn’t he?’ She sounded resigned. Defeated.
‘Your kids too,’ I said.
That shocked her.
‘No… no, he wouldn’t.’
I pulled a face, but didn’t say anything. Then I watched as her whole face changed.
‘I’ve got to go!’ she said, and hung up on me.
I just talked to her again ten minutes ago. After a decade of violent abuse and control, Anna has fled from her husband. She was at the airport with her kids. She has a plan to get them all to safety. She also brought medical records, video and phone evidence of the systemic abuse she has suffered. She’s spoken to her sister and her parents and confirmed their suspicions – and they are rallying help for her, including paying for her flights because Anna had no access to money of her own.
I am completely wrung out today, but that’s okay. It’s a small price to pay for Anna’s wellbeing.
Love, and exhaustion down to my bones, Nicole xx