As far back as I can remember, I have been doing what ever I can to learn how to control what some perceive as a gift.
It is not a gift to have the overwhelming feeling of someone's passing, to mourn prematurely for loved ones, or for those I will confirm when the obit is printed.
Its not a gift To be able to say with certainly that " I know if I turn on the tv they will say they found a body, that I will know the who, the how, the when, the why. But I can't explain it. I just know it." I have never been wrong.
It's not a gift to walk into a house and absorb the sadness of the past residents, or to have to work to look past the way the house was 50 years ago because you get stuck in their environment through flashes, of visions.
It's not a gift to tell a coworker selling raffle tickets " no thanks, I'm not getting any tickets today because I'm not going to win. Sell me one tomorrow though, because I'm going to win that one okay?" realizing you just said to much. The next day you buy a single ticket, your odds are against you 850 to 1, and of course you win. Then everyone thinks you some how cheated.
It's not a gift when you tell your coworker to get the phone before it rings. It's frustrating.
.
It was not a gift the day I woke from a nap, asked my husband to hide the gun. Told him that I had a horrible feeling that a teenage boy would be fatally shot in an accident, that the boy was our boys age, that I was emotionally attached in some way, that I would see him dying, that I was helpless and sick because the time was soon coming. The pain was paralyzing. 18 hours later, at about 445 am, my phone rang, a friend on the other end explained that " I'm at the hospital, Michaels been shot in the head, he's not going to make it, you need to get here hurry please, I don't know..." I felt selfish relief, it wasn't my child that took a bullet, but a friend's child instead. Instant relief. Then comes the guilt.
This is me, my life. I know before it happens.