"The night that i almost jumped to my death

from the balcony of our 11th  floor apartment  -

with my unborn child inside me

 

"Living on our own - inside our first apartment"

 

My modeling career stalled at that point. There would be more opportunities for me to try to launch it again in the future. I was willing to wait, and do other things with my life. There were other things in my life that demanded my attention.  We had recently moved from the rooming house that we had been living in towards the end of 1977, and into a bachelor apartment. It was a move upward for us, and one that we have been waiting to do for months now, since we found that apartment building on Sunset Towers.

 

 Finally we were living in a place where we no longer had to share the kitchen, or the bathroom with anyone else. It was a large one-room apartment on the 11th floor of this building, with its own kitchen, and its own bathroom.  For the first time in my relationship with my boyfriend, we now had the opportunity to relax in the privacy of our own home. We now had the opportunity to have the privacy to get to know each other better. For the first time as a couple, we now had a home environment where we could be ourselves.

 

 This was the turning point in my relationship with my boyfriend. It was the point at which he began to show me the kind of person that he really was; or rather, had become. And what I discovered about the man of my dreams shocked, and disgusted me so much, that my life became a living nightmare all over again.

 

My already damaged heart began to break, about less than a month after we moved into apartment 1101, in Sunset Tower’s building. Andraggon revealed himself to be the full-fledged “two-legged dog in heat” that he had been showing glimpses himself to be since the day that he entered my life.

 

 During the period of one week, he slept with not just one but two other women, and another one that he said he almost slept with. It is still too painful for me to speak about what he did to me during that dreadful week, even though over twenty-five years have passed. So it is fitting that I let him speak about his disgusting actions for himself:

 

 “In one week, in the fall of 1978, I slept with two different women, and also attempted to go to bed with a third one. The first one was a tenant of this woman named Lorna, who lived just a block up the road from us. I did not even know her name, and it did not even matter to me at the time, whether or not she had any disease, even though I felt that she probably did, because of the nasty way that she looked.

 

 A few days later, I traveled to another part of the city to the home, of another girl, who Galextra and I met, at a club somewhere downtown. I tried to have intercourse with her on the living room couch of her parents, but I ejaculated prematurely all over her stomach while she was attempting to pull down her blue jeans. About three days later, I went back to the same house that Lorna lived in, late in the afternoon, and stripped down to my underwear, after she took off all her clothes and climbed under the cover onto her waterbed.

 

For some reason, I refused to climb into her bed and sleep with her, even after she asked me if I was just going to stand there and watch her. A few minutes later, after I got dressed, I walked out of her bedroom and onto the street, where to my surprise, and dread, I saw my pregnant girlfriend coming up the street to look for me.”

 

 

 There was something deeply wrong with my soul mate. He was not the same person that I knew, before we decided become mortals on Earth in this lifetime. He had changed, in ways that disturbed, and frightened me: he was not in his right mind.

 

His current life as a mortal being had damaged the person that he had been, and had turned him into the shady, sneaky, abusive, and ruthless person that he had become. Even before he attacked me so viciously, with his sluttish behaviour, I had encouraged him to talk about his childhood, because I knew that the root of what had damaged him was found in his childhood, on the Island of Jamaica.

 

 But try as I may, he refused to speak about his past. But I knew that until he confronted, and slay the demons of his past, he would not be ready to free himself from the “macho mentality” that had enslaved his mortal mind; and which had warped the egos of members of the male culture for ages now. However, under the circumstances, I was in no condition to insist that he made the effort to look into his past, so that he could understand what had happened to him, and begin the process of freeing himself.

 

 My boyfriend finally admitted to me, when I confronted him about the intuitive information that I had, that he was sleeping with other women. At first he denied my accusation, and became angry with me. When he saw that I did not believe him for a minute, he tried to tell me that it was all in my imagination.

 

 He finally realize that he could not force me to change my mind, through his outrage, his denial, or his attempt to have me doubt my own intuition -  by questioning my state of mind. So he reluctantly admitted to me that it was true that he had slept with other women, earlier in the week. I have a history of being right, every single time, not because I have a false sense of thinking that I am always right and other people are sometimes wrong.

 

 The reason why I am never wrong in my knowledge of someone, or about the behavior, or their intention is due to the simple fact that I have crystal sight. As a God,  one of the abilities that I brought with me to Earth was the ability to read people like an open book, within a short period of time, from the mental pictures that they carry inside their aura about their thinking, their intentions, and their behavior.

 

 Gods have always prefer to speak directly to the hearts of mortal beings, from their mouths to the ears of that child or woman or man. Gods do not usually read written words, nor do they like to write them;   and I would not have written any book if my soul mate did not convince me that I need to share the story of my life with the human race – so that they can know about the life and work of the person whom many of them have spent their time harming in different ways since I arrived on this planet decades ago as a baby girl. I do not read books, but I have been reading people like a book since I was an infant.

 

 I have studied them inside and out and up and down like no other person living on this planet has, or even is able to do in quite the same detailed and thorough manner; so that I could understand, in a personal and real way, the nature of the problems, and the extent of the pain that they go through, or put each other through, all through their lives. In this way, I am able to fully understand the kind of spiritual remedy that the human race needs to heal itself, and move to a higher level of thinking and live a new way of being.

 

 This was one time, however, that I would have given anything in the world to have been wrong about the unfaithful, and sluttish behavior that Andraggon had finally admitted to having done during the past week. When he told me what he had done, and I heard the details of the moral crime that he committed against me.

 

  I remember my heart sinking, and drowning in a sea of indescribable anguish and pain, that I had never experienced in my life before. I felt as if I had just been hit with a spray of bullets from a machine gun that was just fired at me by Andraggon,  without any warning, and without any concern for my life. At that moment it was as if a bomb, which my boyfriend had placed inside me, had just exploded and splattered my heart into a million bloody, little pieces.

 

 At that point in my life, it was as if my whole world had exploded, and was crumbling before my eyes. The man whom I had been looking for, had been waiting for, had been longing to find all of my life, had just betrayed my love for him, had just shattered my faith in him.

 

 I was not just in love with him, I had given all of myself to him: my body, my heart, and my soul. He had become the center of my world, and I literally worshiped this man; and I would have given my life to save his life in a heartbeat. I remember at the time he had admitted what he had done, that my mind reeled in pain, and my heart fled back in time trying to find some place in the corridors of my life to take refuge for a while.

 

 But all I could find, and think about, after my boyfriend dropped his deadly bomb on my heart, all I could hear were the words of my mother, as she warned me against trusting my heart to any man. And all I could see, in my moments of being stranded in time, was the face of my father,  and how much his aura resembled that of my two timing boyfriend. “Never trust any man to ever be faithful to you; if you do they will always find a way to hurt and betray your love for them.” Strange, as it may sound, these words of my mother kept repeating themselves over and over in my head.

 

 My knight in shining armor had turned out to be no better that my own womanizing father. It was like I was living with my father all over again, but this time it was not my mother who was being destroyed emotionally – this time it was me.    In those dreadful hours, after the confessions of my boyfriend about how he had slept with those other women, I knew that I was now living in a prison again.

 

I was rescued from one prison, and thrown into another one

 

But this time, I was a prisoner of the heart who was now a hostage of the man I had fallen head over heels in love with, and the man I did not want to live without, or ever have to leave. I was trapped, but this time my heart would not let me even think of leaving my boyfriend.

 

 Not only did I love him, and was deeply in love with him, but I like being around him more than I have ever liked been around any man. He was a gentle soul, who had a big heart, and someone who truly cared about the well being of other people;  and he was kind, considerate, and always willing to do everything he could to make sure that our basic needs were provided for. But more than that, he was my closest friend and the only person in my life that I could speak to any anything; and he was someone who took the time to listen to what I had to say about anything that was on my mind, at anytime without finding ways to ridicule, or degrade me.

 

 I was beginning to wonder why it was that I was rescued from one prison, and thrown into another, taken from one kind of hell and placed into another. The last thing in the world that I needed, after the four years of torture and pain that I had been put through by my former captor, was to have the one man who I ever loved,  betray, disrespect, and degrade me as he had just done. I saw it coming though, but I did not want to believe that it was true. There was the night when he and I had gone to a nightclub, called Mrs Knight, in downtown Toronto, about six months earlier. At one point I went to use the washroom upstairs, and he waited outside in the hallway for me.

 

 This was something that he had always done, just to make sure that I was not harassed by any of the mostly over sexed and aggressive men and boys who usually hung out in disco clubs. After I finished, I came out of that lady’s washroom,  and i saw Andraggon jacked up against this big burly girl, with his body pressed against hers. I was shocked, hurt, and angry, at what I was seeing; and I yelled at my boyfriend – and asked him why he had done that. I also told off that “sister,” and told her to go and find herself a single man and leave mine alone.

 

When he saw that I did not buy his lame excuse, he apologized for what had happened

 

 For the rest of that night I was very unhappy, even though I was no longer furious with my boyfriend. At first he tried to deny what he had done, and tried to convince me that it was the girl who had pulled herself up against his body while he was leaning against the wall, waiting for me. When he saw that I did not buy his lame excuse, he apologized for what had happened, and for allowing it to happen. For the rest of the night, I was miserable inside, but I loved my boyfriend, even though I was beginning to lose trust in his loyalty to me. I was also beginning to doubt his love for me….

 

 Another incident which alerted me, that he was becoming more and more of the womanizing person, that I was hoping that he would not turn out to be, took place about four months before I discovered that I was pregnant with his son.   It involved a European girl named Judy, who was one of the girls that he was seeing shortly before I came along. Judy, who was a prostitute at the time, was living with her “boyfriend,” named Tony – who was also her pimp – and they lived a few minutes from us at Sunset Towers.

 

 After my boyfriend introduced me to her, she and I became good friends; and once I discovered what she did for a living, and that she and Andraggon were involved with each other before, I made it clear to her that If I found out that she, or any other girl tries to sleep with my boyfriend – that I would beat the living daylights out of that girl. I would never lift a hand to harm anyone, and I was not planning to do that to Judy, or to any woman.

 

 But that was all I could have done at the time, or said at the time, to make it clear to Judy that she should not take my warning lightly. She was the first person that I have ever warned not to try to sleep with my man.

 

There was also a particular reason why I spoke in such a stern manner to her

 

 There was also a particular reason why I spoke in such a stern manner to her. The fact that she was a prostitute was one, which saddened me deeply, because I really cared about Judy as a human being, and as a friend.  And I even alerted her that once she was able to end her life as a prostitute, and started looking after herself, decent men would begin to see the kind of caring, and fabulous woman that she was.

 

 Not only was she a prostitute, however, who was willing to sell, or even to give herself to any man, for little or nothing, but I was also aware of something that my boyfriend had disclosed to me about his brief relationship with Judy – that he and Judy had never slept together; and that the one opportunity that they had to do so, she was seeing her period, which prevented it from happening. It did not take much thinking for me to see the danger of the situation that I was in, regarding my promiscuous boyfriend and one of his former flings, who was now a prostitute, and who was living almost next door to us.

 

 I knew that at one time or another my greedy, and unfaithful man, would find his way into Judy’s apartment in the near future, to try to sleep with her. It was not too long before my fears came through, a few weeks after the warning that I gave to Judy, not to sleep with Andraggon, under any circumstances.

 

 One day Judy and I decided to go out to a party together, just to have some fun. However, without my knowledge, she had two guys come over to her apartment, while I was waiting for her, and she told me that she wanted both of us to sleep with these guys, so that we could make some money.  To say I was furious, and surprise, would be putting it mildly. But I remained calm, as usual, and firmly told Judy that there was no way that I would ever do anything like that in my life, period.

 

 Seeing that I meant what I said, she asked those guys to leave, which they did. Knowing what she had just done, I then felt the need to ask her if she had also slept with Andraggon. She seemed afraid of me, because of the stern, strong, focused looked that I had developed over the years, which she saw in my face.

 

Not only was he cheating on me, but he was also showing himself to be a bold face liar

 

 Judy admitted to me however, that he did come over to her apartment very recently, and that he wanted to have sex with her, but that she had turned him down, and sent him away – only because of the warning that I had given to her not to sleep with him.

 

 I believed Judy, and I was also proud of her for not allowing herself to be used by my two timing boyfriend, to satisfy his selfish, and greedy sexual desires; and also for not allowing him to use her to hurt me. That night, however,  I was so devastated by what Judy had disclosed to me that we ended up not going out at all; and instead I went back home to wait for Andraggon to return from work, so that I could confront him with the awful news that I had just received about his disgusting behavior.

 

 When he got home from work that night, and I revealed to him what Judy had said, he admitted that he did go over to her house, but insisted that he did not go there to try to sleep with her.  It was only after I told him that I did not believe him, that my two timing boyfriend reluctantly admitted the he had gone to her house to try to sleep with her; and that he left there after she told him she was not going to.

 

 Andraggon was beginning to show a side of himself, that was starting to disturbed me very much. Not only was he cheating on me, but he was also showing himself to be a bold face liar. He was just like the men whom my mother had warned me to stay away from.  And he had a motto that promiscuous men had made a part of their code of conduct – whether they were single or married: “admit nothing and deny everything, if and when you are caught cheating.”

 

 My boyfriend was not only turning out to be a habitual liar, but he was also trying constantly to cheat on me. But even though I saw it coming, and even though I was also being alerted through my dreams, and my intuitions, that he was going to sleep around on me again, in the near future,  as he had done in Jamaica – all I could have done was to watch, and wait, and dread the day when he would do so, in Canada. I was devastated, and heartbroken, when he finally confessed about sleeping with those two women, and trying to sleep with another.

 

Sadly, however, this special period in my life turned out to be by far the most anguished

 

 But a part of me was not surprise. Subconsciously I knew it, and consciously I expected it. But it did not make the overwhelming pain I felt, after his revelation about his cheating on me, any easier to take.  I had lived with a violent man who had done everything to hurt me that he could, but I was able to take all the abuses he had done to me, because If did I not love him, or even liked him, I could not stand his guts.

 

 In less than two years, after I started to live with Andraggon, however, he had broken my heart more deeply than what even my father had done, when he walked out of my life when I was a two year old child. At a time when my life was in an emotional crisis, more than it had ever been before, an unexpected event entered into my life.

 

 I discovered that I was pregnant with Andraggon’s first child. Suddenly my world did not seem to be a gloomy place anymore. I was happy, and relieved, to know that I was going to give birth to our child.  The news that I was pregnant with my boyfriend's  child was truly a blessing in my life. I can honestly say that it was one of the happiest moments of my life. What made it even more special was the fact that the father of my baby, was someone whom I not only loved, and was in love with, but he was also someone who also truly loved me, and was in love with me, and who also was there for me, more than any other person had ever been in my entire life as a mortal being in this lifetime.

 

Sadly, however, this special period in my life turned out to be by far the most anguished, and the most devastating one I have ever experience in my entire life – because of the mental and emotional trauma that I was being put through by the man I truly loved, and was deeply in love with.   Andraggon not only returned to school, but he did better than anyone expected him to, except for myself. I knew he had the abilities to achieve any goal he set for himself, once he found the incentive, and developed the determination, and focus to do so.

 

 What pushed me over the edge, though, was the feeling of being doomed.

 

 

Part Two:

Life as a pregnant and abused prisoner of the man I love.

 

 In three semesters at West Toronto S.S., he not only completed his high school program, with his grade 13 subjects, but he also finished with a grade point average that was high enough to earn him an Ontario Scholar status. On his graduation day, I sat proudly in the audience as I watched my sweetheart going up on the stage, not once but twice, to receive his scholastic awards.   But he earned those achievements, at a price that nearly cost me my life. By the time he had begin his semester program in January of 1977, I was an emotional wreck. I could not get over the fact he had slept around on me, a few months earlier.

 

The memory, the thought,  of what he had done to me were too much for my broken heart to take; and what made it even more unbearable was that I owned a heart that already had many scars in it, from the years of injuries that I had suffered from all the emotional and mental wounds inflicted on me –  by my father, my mother, my uncles, my foster parents, my school teachers, and my former captor, and some of his relatives, and now by the man who I had given all of heart, and my soul to. Even though I was a young woman, I was already a survivor of more attacks on my heart, and my mind, than the average war veteran.

 

 What pushed me over the edge, though, was the feeling of being doomed, by the behavior of my boyfriend, even after he had admitted his cheating ways to me, and had promised me that he would never cheat on me again.   One of the qualities that are always found in a cheater is that they are also liars, because they are forced to try to protect the wrongs that they are doing, or will continue to do. It’s only after a cheater finally stops cheating, that they will also then have no reason to continue lying.

 

  My soul mate was no exception to this rule of human behavior, which spelled more trouble, and more hell, for me in the future. Less than a month after he had cheated on me, he began to leave the house early in the morning, saying he was going to work for his eight to four shift as a security guard.

 

The biggest lesson I learned from my life with Andraggon

 

 I was having dreams that he was seeing another woman, so one morning I followed him, without his knowledge, and saw him going into the home of another woman. Shocked, angry, and devastated I walked back home, and cried inside myself every step of the way. My worse fear had come through: my boyfriend was cheating on me again, and he was lying about it.

 

 If I had a place to go, if I had a family to go to, I believe that I would have packed up that day, and just walked away from my boyfriend, without saying even a single word to him. It would have been extremely hard for me to have done so, and it would have hurt me deeply inside, even more, for me to have left him – because I had given all of myself to him.

 

 This gave him the power to decide whether I lived or died emotionally. It is a mistake to give oneself completely to another, in a world where males are trained since childhood to use and abuse everyone who give them control over their lives. But I am not your average mortal: I am a God – and in my world, we give all of ourselves to everything that we do, and to everyone, and to everything that we are involved with.   In my world, it is always 100% or nothing, whether I am a mother, a wife, a friend, a supporter, or even a foe. The lesson I learned from my life with Andraggon, and from other abusive men, is that the next time I come back to this planet to work, I will not ever get involve with any anyone ever again,  and I would never get married again.

 

Next time I return to this Earth to work, I would not be coming to go through a life of pain, and suffering, or bring any children into this world to also go through the hardships, and the pain that I had to watch my own children being put through,  by people living in this deadly and destructive civilizations that have become human jungles. In fact, the next time I come back to this planet, I was not going to come as a mortal: I was going to come back as a God – with my own body that I constructed, just as Gods normally do over time when they come to live or work among mortals. But that reality was a lifetime away, and it did not bring me any comfort thinking about it now….

 

The breaking point for me came in March of 1978, when I was about seven months pregnant

 

By the time Andraggon began school in January, I was over four months pregnant with our first child. For the first time in his life, and mine, we were now on government assistance, which is called welfare in Canadian Society. In order to go to school full time,  he decided to give up his job as a security guard so that he could devoted his time to his studies, and to make sure that he was home to take care of me. To do that he decided to get government assistance, which he did.

 

 I was happy for my boyfriend that he was going back to school to get a better education so that he could look after his family, and that he had gotten social assistance, in order so that he could spend his free time with me,  instead of spending it at a job. But I was becoming more and more stressed out by his womanizing behavior; and the fact that I was moving further along in my pregnancy, and was now sharing my body with an unborn person, only served to help to destabilize my turbulent world even more.

 

 

 The breaking point for me came in March of 1978, when I was about seven months pregnant. And it came swiftly, and powerfully, like a storm that exploded after brewing for a while. My boyfriend’s emotional and mental abuses towards me threw me over the brink of reason, and rationality,  and I plunged into an abyss of depression, and desperation. Not only was I trapped emotionally, because of my deep love for this man, but I was also physically trapped by the reality that I had no place to go, even if I had tried to find the courage to leave him.

 

 One afternoon I lost my will to live any longer

 

 Adding to my misery was the pain of seeing that my boyfriend was still continuing his lying, and cheating ways. Instead of stopping his doggish behaviour, as he had promised to do a number of times in the past,  he was now telling me about how he wanted to go out by himself, and have his own friends, so that he could enjoy some of the life that he was now telling me that he had missed out on, after he had started going with me.

 

 I could not believe my ears when I heard such selfish, egotistical, and self-centered words coming out of the mouth of my own soul mate, who was now my boyfriend. Here I was about to have his baby, while he was continuing to find ways to sleep with other women, and he was now telling me this kind of macho junk.

 

 Here I was filled with anxieties, and fears, wondering when he was going to cheat on me again, every waking moment of my day, and night. He was now telling me that he wanted to spend time away from me, with other people, especially women.  Here I was, along in an empty apartment, without even a television to keep me company, with my heart pounding every morning when he left to go to school to spend time with hundreds of  impressionable, and promiscuous teenage girls, and boys – and he was telling me this nonsense about how he needed his own space, and time by himself.

 

 One afternoon I lost my will to live any longer, and I also lost the desire to bring any more babies in this world for them to suffer as I was. The excruciating pain that erupted in my heart, after two years of mounting with each abuse that Andraggon inflicted on me, became too much for me to bear any longer -  became to much for me to contain any longer, inside my anguished mind. I simply snapped; and tried to kill my body so that I could escape with my soul, and flee from the unbearable hell that I was being held a prisoner in – by my abusive boyfriend, and by the cruel circumstances of my life as a woman on Earth.

 

 I did not want to live in this unbearably painful world anymore, and I did not want to bring another being to live in it. I remember being on my knees, and bending over in pain,  with a kitchen knife clutched in my hands, and pointing it a few inches from my heart, as I screamed out over and over while my boyfriend stood a few feet away from me and pleaded with me not to take my own life. And from the depths of my painful soul I spoke these wounded words to my soul mate”:

 

 “I don’t want to live anymore. I can’t take it anymore. I want to die.”

 

 “I don’t want to live anymore. I can’t take it anymore. I want to die; I just want to die. You are killing me Andraggon! You are killing me, and I can’t take it anymore. Let me just die! Please let me just die!”  After what seemed like an eternity, and hearing the anguished, and loving voice of my soul mate crying out to me from another world away, I slowly moved the point of that knife from off the skin that was covering my heart, and dropped it on the ground.

 

 Then I slumped over, and placed my hands on my knees, and just cried and cried my heart out, which eased the numbing pain that had paralyzed my heart, and overwhelmed my entire body. My boyfriend slowly picked up that knife,  and quickly put in back in the kitchen, rushed back to where I was kneeling in agony and dropped to his knees. We knelt there in that room and held each other, and we both cried and cried like a baby. Andraggon recalls that traumatic experience, and how it affected him afterwards:

 

 “When I saw my girl fall on her knees, and crying out in pain, with a knife in her hands, and the blade resting on her heart, I became frantic, and scared. All I could have done was to plead with her not to take her own life, and the life of our unborn baby by plunging the blade of that sharp knife into her heart, and kill herself.

 

 As I watched by baby kneeling there, and paralyzed with a kind of pain that I could not relate to, at that time, it was the first moment in my life when I truly felt helpless, and I did not know what to do. I loved my girlfriend, more than anything, or anyone in the world, even more than I loved myself.

 

That incident, that day, appeared to have been a wakeup call for Andraggon

 

 But I was killing her, and injuring her, with a deadly weapon that I was using to plunge into her heart every single day, for many months now. My cheating with other women, chasing other women, to flirt with them, and especially to have sex with them, or try to, wounded her deeply, and constantly, to the point where she was now living in agony. What I had done to her was wrong, and I knew it was wrong. But I still continued to plunge that emotional knife into her heart, every time after I had promised to stop cheating on her – by still going after other women.

 

 This time, as I held her in my arms, as we knelt on that floor, it hit me for the first time in our relationship how much I was destroying the only girl whom I had ever loved in my life. I cried as I had never cried in my life,  (even more than when I was beaten by my grandfather as a child) for the woman I loved, for the torture that I was putting her through; and for my own failure as a man, who had promised to devote his life to protecting, and loving the most amazing and the most beautiful being I had ever known.  But more than anything, I cried for my self, and as I did, I hoped and prayed inside myself that I could be a better mate, a more faithful companion to my future wife, and the mother of my unborn child.”

 

 That incident, that day, appeared to have been a wakeup call for Andraggon. We spoke for many hours a day, every day for a few weeks, about what had happened. Over and over, he spoke about how truly sorry he was that he had caused me so much grief, and pain. And over and over, again, he promised that this time he would stop cheating on me for good. And I wanted so much to believe him this time; I needed so desperately to believe him this time. And somewhere deep inside my depressed, and disillusioned mind, there was a part of me that knew that he could really stop his cheating and lying ways, once he had finally freed himself of the haunting memories of his painful childhood.

 

 I knew that he could become an impeccable person, who was loyal, faithful, and true to me, to himself, and to the higher being that he was, before he came into human life this time. He had been caught, captured, owned and controlled by the twisted and destructive macho influences of the Society that he and I lived in, and allowed himself to become a prisoner of. But I knew that he could finally free himself one day.

 

 It was a huge apartment, with its own bathroom and kitchen

 

 Even in my tormented mind, I sensed that my life of living hell, with the man of my dreams, was not going to come to an end any time soon. That knowledge filled me with even more fear than I ever felt before. I now had to live every moment of my days, and nights,  worrying about if, and especially when, I as going to find out that he was still cheating on me. To provide me with company of some kind, Andraggon bought a big colored television, on credit from a rent to own furniture store, from a guy who came around – at that time – to our building looking for customers to sell to.

 

 It was a 20-inch television that cost us over a $1000 by the time we finally paid it off, even though we paid less than $400 for it, because of the extremely high interest rate that this store charged us. But it was money that we both realized was well spent,  even though it cost us more than we could have afforded to pay at the time. Most of the meager money that we were getting monthly from welfare was used to pay our rent, in this bachelor suite that we considered ourselves fortunate to have been able to find as a home to live in, for almost a year now.

 

 It was a huge apartment, with its own bathroom and kitchen. But except for that overpriced and new colored television, the only furniture that was in that spacious room was a mattress that Andraggon found outside that was thrown away, and a second hand table with four chairs that was given to us by Bob,  the building’s superintendent, from his storage in its basement – because he liked us as a couple, and saw that we had no furniture of our own when we moved in.

 

It was all we could afford at the time;  and I admired my boyfriend’s resourceful abilities to scavenge for things from the garbage that people threw away, that he felt we could use ourselves, because of our shoestring budget. Having a television of our own, for the first time in our lives, as a couple, meant the world to me at that time.

 

The unbearable pain that was now paralyzing my entire life did not go away

 

 Being able to tune into the lives of other people, and other experiences, on television provided me with a means of entertainment that allowed me to escape the reality of my own living hell, at different times throughout the day. That television kept me company, and kept me from thinking a lot about my miserable, tormented life. It helped to fill the lonely, and aching hours, of my days after Andraggon headed of to attend school each weekday.

 

 My life did not return to normal however, as I had hoped, and prayed that it would. The wounds that I had received were still fresh; the sharp pain that I was feeling in the pit of my stomach had only eased temporarily.   My heart was too injured, with too many deep wounds, and every day that my boyfriend left me to go to school, my heart pounded, and pounded, as if it was about to explode  from the massive emotional injuries that had been inflicted on me by the man I was deeply in love with.

 

The unbearable pain that was now paralyzing my entire life did not go away. I needed to be in a place inside myself, where I had the peace of mind to even give myself the permission to assess the damage, and explore the depth of the paralyzing pain that just would not go away.

 

 I was a victim, and like other women, who were victims of emotional crimes, of physical crimes, I needed time to nurse my wounds; I needed time to look at what had happened to me, how it had happened to me, why it had happened to me –  before I could even begin to bring any kind of closure to my life, so that I could begin to finally heal my wounds. But I was not in a place in my relationship, with my boyfriend, where I was anywhere close to even begin to go through this recovery process, which could bring about the emotional, mental, and spiritual healing that I so desperately, and urgently needed.

 

 

 My boyfriend’s promise to change was just that – a promise made to me under duress

 

 My boyfriend’s promise to change was just that – a promise made to me under duress. Until he changed his cheating, and lying ways, completely and permanently, I would never have a real opportunity to even begin the painful, and long process, to recover from my injuries, and to eventually heal my own life.

 

 It was nice, and even comforting to hear his gentle, and loving words of promises to change his abusive ways, but as long as he continued to commit his emotional and deadly crimes against my heart, they were just kind, and well meaning words that did not do anything to help me to recover from my deep, and multiply emotional injuries.

 

 My deep depression did not go away, and it would not go away, until I had finally, and fully hit a mental rock bottom, and could fall no further. About fourteen days later, I hit rock bottom, again. It was an evening, when Andraggon was home, and I was trying to talk to him about helping me to bring an end to the engulfing, and overwhelming pain that was ripping my inside apart. I don’t remember what had triggered my being pushed over the edge.

 

 He was in that school, and coming on to different teenage girls who were going there, which he kept denying for most of the entire year and a half that he was going there – until some of those same students confided in me when I came by on one occasion to meet some of his teachers.  This was probably the bullet that shot another hole in my already injured, and deeply wounded heart.

 

I wanted to die, so that I could escape the pain that had erupted in me, that had overwhelmed, and overpowered me. I had no medication;  I had no drugs to ease the massive emotional wounds that had left deep holes in my broken heart. Since I was a small child, I heard women telling other women, who were jilted by their husband, or their boyfriend, how they should “get over their broken heart, and move on with their lives” once they had left their cheating mate behind them.

 

I climbed up onto the rail on that balcony with my bare feet

 

 Over the years, I have heard the same advice given time and time again; and I have never understood how anyone with any intelligence, or insight would even speak in such a selfish, insensitive, and short sighted manner.  A life that has been damaged, or injured in anyway, always takes a lifetime to mend again. And if the damage is as deep, and as severe as it always will be – when it involves injuries of the heart, or of the mind – that life will never completely heal in one lifetime.

 

 On that fatal evening, after I tried to flee from the unbearable pain that paralyzing my broken heart, I found my way outside to the balcony of the eleventh floor apartment that we were living in. And, even though I was nearly eight months pregnant, I climbed up onto the rail on that balcony,  in my bare feet, as my aching mind struggled to make the decision whether it should allow my body to jump from that rail, and plunge to its certain death below, in a matter of a few seconds. It was as if I was re-living the same horrible nightmare that I had endured only a few weeks ago, when I pressed the blade of that knife against the chest of my tortured body.

 

 But this time, the same ghastly, and horrifying scene was moved forward in time; and the weapon that I was now desperately clinging to this time, in an irrational attempt to free myself from the breathtaking pain, that was stifling me again, was the hard, cold, and indifferent piece of concrete slab that my trembling fingers were barely holding on it.

 

 While I was climbing onto that one inch thin piece of dark metal, that was to serve as a silent witness to my death dive, and also as the platform from which I was determined to fly over the edge, and fall to my certain death – my soul mate appeared suddenly a few yards away from me on that balcony,  and began pleading with me not to jump to my death. I have seen scenes of people, in despair, perched on ledges of different kinds, high above the ground, and I have watched in horror as they jump to the ground and plunge to their deaths, on a few occasions on the evening news on television.

 

 

 As I stood there on the ledge of that balcony

 

 Each time, my heart was in my hands, as my eyes watched in sheer terror, as those people decide whether to jump or not. Each time, I would quickly switch the channel, to take myself away from being a mortified witness to such a painful, and deathly scene, because I just could not bear to watch someone in such misery, in such pain.  It hurts me too much, I mean it literally tears me apart inside, to see someone in such turmoil, and agony, that they seek to bring an end to their tortured and troubled life, by taking their mortal life in such a dramatic, and heart wrenching fashion.

 

 I always wondered what kind of pain, what amount of suffering, what depth of anguish that drove that tormented person, that pushed that tortured human being to the point where they feel commanded to end their mortal life, by plunging to their death on a indifferent concrete pavement waiting to snuff their live out at the sudden, and horrible end of their death plunge.

 

 As I stood on the eleventh floor, on the edge of that balcony, I truly knew for the first time why others before me, had dragged themselves on their own platform of death, to plunge themselves through the dimensions of their own mortality, and move into the land of the living dead.

 

 As I stood there on the ledge of that balcony, as a God who came to Earth to bring all beings together, and give them the knowledge to develop into higher beings – so that they can live as the impeccable immortals that they were each created to be. In that unreal moment, I came to truly understand the depth, of the level of the pain, of the misery, that drove every one of them to that breaking point to end their mortal life.

 

 But I could not jump off that balcony. I would not allow my tormented mind to give my pain-ridden body the command to plunge to its own death. In the midst of my impending death, I found the strength to hold back my body, with my unborn child clinging for its life inside me,  while my enraged mind screamed for my body to just let go, and fall downwards, so that it can bring a sudden, and merciful end, to the unbearable misery that was paralyzing it with pain.

 

 My spirit won that life and death battle for my mortal life that frightening evening

 

 With all of my resilience, with all of my battle scarred will, with the unbending intent that only a master, or a God, possesses – I fought for my mortal life in that moment of destiny, against my shattered, and dying heart; against my traumatized, and depressed body; against my frantic, and terrorized mind.

 

 My spirit won that life and death battle for my mortal life that frightening evening. I was not ready to give up my mortal life: I had two beautiful babies, out there somewhere who were still looking for me to bring them back into the arms of their mother, the only real parent they had ever known.

 

 I had an unborn being living inside my body who was full of life and looking forward to the opportunity to live as my son or my daughter for a lifetime. I had a beautiful being next to me, who had been a part of my life, as my soul mate, and my twin soul, for as far back in time as I can remember;   and who was standing beside me pleading with me, crying for me, trying to reach me, so that I would not give in to the overpowering urge that I was feeling to jump.

 

And I also had an entire planet of beings, whose lives, and whose future would depend on the ancient, and potent,  knowledge that I had come to Earth to bring to each of them, so that they could each lift themselves – out of the prison of blind ignorance, of superstitious fear, of misplaced arrogance that had captured the hearts, shackled the minds, and stunted the spirits of the masses of humanity for far too long.

 

 Sunset Tower had paradoxically become a place from which the light of my own life, and of my unborn baby’s life had almost been extinguished. I did not lose my mortal life that day, but before my unborn child reached the age of a teenager, I would lose my life more times than the age of his life.

 

My Unseen Masters would restore and resurrect my body back to life time and time again every time it died. Those supernatural, and bone chilling experiences, of passing away from the dimensions of the living, and crossing over into the land of the “living dead” – each time that my body gave up its mortal life – were waiting for me further ahead down the road of time.

 

.