“I got out an abusive relationship. It was terrible!” Connie started to tell me her story. “You know, I was young; I just got out of college, I went to a party; we fell in love…  well, it was a terrible 6 years. Because we were so unstable, I did not want to keep our baby.” I nodded my head, [Yes, you were too young.] Connie continued: “I had been through so much, like a drama book. I lived on my car for a while. I had been thinking about suicide many times and the best way to end my life …“

[Are you still with him?] I asked. “Oh, no! Believe me, I work so hard to re-establish myself. I am working 3 jobs now. It took me 3 years to stand on my feet.” [Are you proud of yourself?] I asked her. Connie gave me a big smile: “Yes! I stayed at a monastery for a while, I talked to monks and lay people. I quit drinking, I …. Yes, I use my strong will to overcome the drugs. You know, party drugs, weeds, pills. It was hard, but I made it!”    

Still, not too many people who suffer substance abuse think about suicide. They might get accident overdosed, but not how to do it. I invited Connie’s super consciousness to guide her to one of her past lives. Soon as she got into trance, I asked: “Where are you?”

“I am walking down the street. Los Angeles.” “Can you see the street name?” “Rh… Cherry Street.”  “Where are you going?” “Not homes around; it is like business area …. I am wearing brown shoes; I am so excited.” “Is it in 1900? Do you see cars on the road?” “Yes, it’s about 1950 or so. I am a young man…. Oh, I am entering a restaurant.” “What do you do?” “To pick up a beautiful girl. She is waitress. Her shift ends, so we walk to her apartment.” “Ok, what happens?” “She changes her dress. We are going to a dance hall. Oh, she is so beautiful.” “Then what happens?” “We got married.”

“Good, then…” “She is having twin…” “Boy or girl?” “One each.” ‘Ok, then what happens?” “I work to support the family; she is home mom.” “Good, then..”  “Kids are in school. She works now, an operator to answer phone calls.”  “Good.” Connie continued: “She works hard… I don’t like her to work!” I said: ”She wants to support the family.” A sudden anger in the tune: “No, I don’t like her to work! I want her to stay home.”  

“She works too hard … I don’t want to go home. I am driving around and around the streets for hours.” “Ok, then what happens?” “She works at a doctor’s office now. She looks professional…. I am not working…” “You lost job?” “Yes, No one wants to hire me.” “Ok, what happens?” “I live on my car now. My car is brown wagon. I don’t want people know that I am homeless, so I wear my gray suit when I get out my car.” “Well, where do you park your car?” “Usually industrial area at night. No one would hire me!”

“I feel so depressed and shameful. I don’t want to see anyone. I watch the ocean and hope I am gone with the waves.” “Did you get back to your family?” “Yes, I drove back at night. Parked on the street, I could see them inside the house. How I wish I can be part of them. But I feel so shameful.” Connie’s voice became weak: “I want to die.”

“Ok, what happens?” “I drove to a bridge. I got on the bridge and looked down.” “Can you see which bridge in Los Angeles?” “No, it is dark. I think I want to jump off.” “And?” “I jumped….. Pains on my head, my shoulders…. My chest is tight…. I can see my body; I wear my gray suit… my gray suit and brown shoes.”