Yes, my appointment was today with the clairaudient. He lives fairly close and I didn't get lost going there, which was either a sign or the fact that he lived halfway between home and where the boys went to elementary school. His wife let me in and I sat and petted their cat and making nice sounds to their very old dog, who is sooooooo old she makes my old dogs look young. She spent about twenty minutes working at some food in her bowl and when I went past, there was still pretty much a meal left in there. Skinny, hobbling, and obviously loved.
The clairaudient (okay, let's just call him the Psychic) is 40ish, very sweet, very comfortable, very unpretentious. He immediately took off his shoes when we sat down to chat, which I liked. He also had the heater on, which I liked even more.
I told him what the naturopath (who he knows) was thinking: that my organs are in such a state of collapse that my "illness" is being expressed through my skin. The Psychic said that, in his experience, hives usually related to some deep-seated emotional stuff. So we went looking for it.
I started with the obvious, upon which I'd spent zillions of dollars of therapy: my parents' suicide and son's shooting. He sensed something earlier, beneath various layers. We chatted some more and came to my adoption. (On the way he came up with some uncannily insightful stuff about me: my empath qualities, how sensitive I am, my obsessive need to know stuff). He explained that there's a psychic biological bond between parents and their children (which I certainly know from my own), and that I needed to find my birth mother (and possibly father) to help them alleviate their guilt and find completion.
Then I lay down on a table, and he covered me and gave me rocks to hold in each hand. We did some yoga mouth breathing and he had me basically cast my parents' guilt trips and control and martyr acts away, telling them I wasn't going to carry their pain and anger for them any more. he touched various parts of my body, and put some oils on various points. And I get to keep my rocks. During this state he asked if I thought my hives were allergies and my subconscious-er self said: nope... not really.
He also said that perhaps finding them, or my search, would give me the story I needed to help the world and that, as a writer, it was wonderful to have that kind of gift to share. And I thought: holy shit! Maybe that's the story I've been wandering around looking for, all the while thinking I didn't have anything significant enough to say to change the world.
We also talked about our pets as familiars and spirit guides. We decided Esmeralda is channeling Rocky. And when I adopted Esmeralda, I was looking for s dog to channel my Kujo. But sometimes we don't get what we want; we get what we need (if the Rolling Stones are to be believed).
I didn't feel like I'd fallen into a wind chime black hole. I still itch. But I feel little lighter.