Those Sneaky Psychic Attacks

Those Sneaky Psychic Attacks


This is a core story that is not in my Free Report “Psychic Self Defense”  offer on the box to the right — Sign up and get it while I still have it available as this blog is going through changes –

It took me eight years to figure this out.

In the Free Report I discuss my first experience with psychic attack — this story can be found  on the front page at Occult My second experience was very different and is related in the report.  I had moved into a haunted house in London. This can be kinda hard to avoid really…

Was the attack in the London house caused by spirit activity attached to the house, or was is the result of an attack from another quarter altogether? I am still not sure of that, but I have since received some answers.

Life in London…at First…

In March 1998, I was compelled to move to London. I don’t really know the real reason, but I could not prevent myself selling everything I owned and going. In 1997 I had taken my King Arthur Holy Grail tour to research art  for my channeled Tarot deck: Grail Keepers Tarot, and fell in love with the U.K. It seems 1998 was a big  year for major life changes. The Hale Bop comet had flown over — I saw it in Tintagel, Cornwall just floating above the sea. Perhaps that was the cause.

I needed to make money and stay below the radar, so I got a pitch in Camden Lock Market and began reading Tarot cards there two days a week. I made just enough to keep the roof of the haunted house over my head and travel and eat.

Shortly after I had set myself up on the traditional Tarot pitch that I shared with the resident psychic, Patricia,  I was visited by an  old Irish woman who announced to me that she was Queen of all the psychics in London and it was her job to oversee them all. I think we swapped readings or discussed it — I honestly cannot remember how we dealt with our relationship. All I ever found out about her was that she worked at the top of the Stables Market behind Camden Lock and charged very little for her work. We didn’t speak when we saw each other — I felt as if I couldn’t, and I didn’t make anything of it.


Over the time I was there, I was told the history of the area. The stables had been  built for horses used in the city for fire brigades and taxis and  things like that. The lock was part of a canal that ran through Saint Johns Wood and  through Little Venice, its picturesque aspects and gypsy house boats marred by the tendency of dead bodies to surface at least once a year — victims of some of the most horrific murders in town. Camden had also been the location for mass graves during the 1667 plague epidemic that swept London after the Great Fire in 1666. Breugel’s Triumpth of Death is like a portrait of Camden Town during the Plague. Camden Tube Station had also been built on the spot where the cottage of  the infamous witch, Mother Damnable, once stood. It was alleged that the cottage was full of demons that floated through the air in all sorts of weird shapes.
Camden Town was also to home to young Charles Dickens before his father went to debtors prison.

Another thing about that place was that the whole length, from Camden Stables down to the Lock was said to be on a ley line. Knowing about this ley line obscured many things from me because the Tarot pitch was right on it and it was thought to be a very active and polluted current.

When I worked In Camden Lock for two days  a week everything was fine and I soon had lots of clients. Two days was just enough.Suddenly, Patricia had to cut back, so the market manager offered me an extra day on the stall. This was fine too — until she wanted to return. I had customers who expected me to be there by this time and I had come to rely on the extra money. To cut a long story short, certain people may not have been too pleased with these complications, but they didn’t say anything to me about it.

Around Samhain, I began to experience the horrific attacks in the night that I describe in the Free Report and have mentioned in earlier blog posts. I thought they were caused by someone else…

I began having a terrible time in the market. For one thing the energy coming down under the Tarot pitch was so violent sometimes that with my super-sensitivity I was thrown off balance and stressed out something fierce. My mind would get fixated on people and things and I couldn’t shift out of it. I started having conflicts with other traders out of the blue — misunderstandings cropping up — all kinds of volatility.

I moved at one point to a shop under the stables  that is no longer there — just to try to get out of the bad energy. But business wasn’t as good because it didn’t have the visibility. It was a bit more peaceful though.

Then that situation deteriorated because business was too slow and the owner got stressed out. I went back up to Camden Lock Market. It was good for a while and then got really horrible again. I never had so much stress and conflict and bad luck in my life before. I couldn’t leave though because of my situation and business was really good and the money was good. I was really stuck.

My cards would come up all black!

My cards would come up all black!

Ever since the night attacks between Samhain and  Christmas, I had been seeing a Carribean Priestess/ Healer, Mother Bridget. She helped me all the time — mostly clearing my energy field. I became known for never being able to keep bad energy off. I was always suffering from over-stress and  entity invasion. I had ideas about what was behind this stuff — partly the rat-race of London — partly these people who would turn on me and start making trouble in the market. I am also the type that needs lots of seclusion to balance myself and I was living in group housing. Never being alone could have contributed to stress and unhappiness for me. I never thought it was an occult attack!

“There are two women crossing you. A blond one and darker one. These are clairvoyant mediums.”
“But who? I have no idea who these people are. Why?”
“But why?”
I could not for the life of me figure out who they were because nobody I knew fit the description.
“There’s a coven working against you. Clairvoyant mediums. They are trying to bury you.”
“They set it up like clockwork with the moon. They brought in another medium.”
I was lost for trying to figure it out so I decided she must be wrong.
After my first horrible year being back in the States and moving to Seattle, I finally got a studio apartment in which I could be 100% alone. This was  the only condition in which I could begin to heal from the mountains of stress  and wounds form all of that conflict. I had never thought of myself who has enemies — so I always in shock about these things. About six months after this absolute solitude it hit me who those Clairvoyant Mediums were.  The other tarot readers in the market. Since I had never had words with them, very little to no contact – I could not even think of them. But I am sure it was them now — very clever, very subtle, very evil.


What is also really strange is that I went to the British Isles initially to research my Grail Keepers Tarot. In the Celtic Faery tradition I had been working in that is woven into the tarot deck I painted, I was very connected to the goddess Brighid: triple moon goddess of poetry, healing, and smithcraft. I had been working with the bright Brighid when I went to London. When the attacks happened, the lady who saved me was a black Bridget — Mother Bridget. But there  was a third Bridget in the mix — the Queen of the tarot readers — that Irish crone in the Stables Market. She was using the ley-line to send her curses straight at me.

I am still unsure of the motive for wanting to use such low-down, evil means  to get rid of me. I do know, as an American, I was never taught to kiss anybody’s butt and suppose I must have offended her.

The take-away here is that attacks of this nature can be very hard to understand and pin down. Best install good defense mechanisms so you bounce them off immediately.

For an excerpt from my Free Report Psychic Self Defense go to:

For The Grail Keepers’ Tarot:

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Shamanic Illness as Initiation

Photo 64

Diary of Drawings

This is a drawing I made in the mid 1980′s.

During the two and half years that Saturn transited my Eighth House of love and death, I went a little mad you might say.

It wasn’t insanity or anything, it was because of psychic attack.

I had been in a deep relationship with a man who was separated from his wife. If there is such a thing as a Soul Mate, we were it. We openly talked about ourselves that way. I had a vision of him shortly before we met. During my daily meditation practice, I saw him falling out of the sun towards me. When we met, it was an instant attraction. Numerologist Tania Gabrielle would probably look at my 44-8 birth numbers and call it Fate.

But the estranged  wife wasn’t having any of it.  When she found out he was seeing me, she decided wanted him back and went on the warpath with me.

There was a point at which she got really aggressive and started to play games. I was a pretty otherworldly and therefore naive in the way that otherworldly, ungrounded people are. I had nothing against her anyway — this guy and I were Soul Mates. What was I supposed to do?

When the fallout started, I was kicked out of the apartment by my room mate. I moved into a house closer to where my boyfriend lived and spent most of my time at his place. She started coming around. Next thing I knew, I fell into such a deep depression that my personality actually changed. I even looked weird to myself surrounded in this horrible dark vortex.

I always drew pictures and started doing that for hours at a time instead of studying — I was in University then. I mostly drew images of this guy and me in boats and in towers. I began a series of myself with antlers on my head. The drawing at the top is one of the survivors.

Its me looking into a mirror and seeing  antlers on my head.  Before that, my boyfriend had told me I looked like a deer. Maybe it was auto-suggestion, but I do have a Capricorn Moon and associate this self image with that.



At one point I became very ill and had to go to the hospital with anemia. I was a vegetarian, but also very depleted in other ways.

I became obsessive compulsive, especially with the drawings. I just didn’t stop. Drawing is a wonderful thing, but I felt like I had a motor in my head — maybe I had become autistic or something. It was just weird.

I had been a regular meditator since I was seventeen, and with this boyfriend, had gotten into Tibetan Buddhism and had been initiated into a few saints whose names I can’t remember any more. One was a purification saint. I have always been a great visualizer, and had built up images of these saints in my mind that were very powerful. I was really good at meditation.

So imagine how it felt when I couldn’t do it any more. All I saw was a swirling black energy that made me sea sick. I even went back to Massachusetts to visit my family and it was still just as bad. I was always nauseous and a light- headed, and very confused.

My dreams were  violent. I was always being chopped up into pieces. My body parts were scattered all over the place. I had a series of these  dreams and I drew pictures of those and burned them because I was afraid I might be murdered or something.

Then one night, I dreamed my body parts were scattered over the snow and it was very bloody. Some Inuits came up the slope and wrapped all my body parts in a seal skin. Then they put me inside a sweat house — I can still remember lying on a bench near a wonderful steamy rock pile. I stayed there for a long time.

When I was healed, I dreamed all the time that I swam under the sea with the seals. I was a kind of mermaid.  I drew the seal under the boat that my boyfriend and I were on all the time in my drawings. I let the seal guide me through my emotional turmoil and show me what I needed to know.

Psychic Attack


Our relationship suffered because my boyfriend  just wouldn’t deal with what was going on. He was too weak, and they had a six year old daughter that he felt guilty about.

I began to isolate. I was not a fighter. I still hate to fight, but have learned since that sometimes I have to stand up for myself. But I do hate conflict.

One day I was in my room and took a break from drawing. I wanted to meditate. I remember so clearly sitting in front of my altar and seeing the black vortex spinning all around me. I also saw all these spirits, very flat with triangular heads — a bit dog-like and cartoonish. There were hundreds of then all over the room. I felt sick as one of them stood behind and was tying something around my neck. Seeing them, I said to myself, “I am going to push them away with my light.”

I focused really hard on the light inside of me and sent it out until it was all around me. I continued to expand, obliterating all those little dog things, intending to fill the entire room.  Suddenly there was a kind of explosion, and it was as if the sun had come into the room!  Golden light was streaming everywhere and in the midst of the light were these eyes, black rimmed and compassionate, and face like Christ, though I am not if it was He or some older God. The golden light kept pulsating all around me, erasing all of the spirits, filling the room and healing me.

Deer Lady

It was after that I began to draw the deer lady pictures.

My relationship bit the dust. She was a lawyer and he didn’t stand a chance. Exhausted  ( and I haven’t even told you the half of it) I bowed out and concentrated on school.

This was the 80′s. Lots of books and courses were being given on the West Coast especially. I was also living near some of the most powerful Indian Tribes in North America. Powerful for magic that is. Gradually I learned about Shamanism and was told by one of the Salish Elders here that I had had a Shamanic sickness. All the dismemberment dreams were about taking me apart so I would be put back together in a certain way. The Seal medicine was help me to flow in the sea of the emotions — I also say the unconscious.  The Inuits are at the North Pole where me spirit came into the earth’s atmosphere before birth. They  still have a very strong Shamanic culture.

I see the Capricorn Moon at work as well. The fish-goat who climbs to the top of the mountain and dives deep into the ocean, is very much like the selkie seal lady and the deer lady I became. The Indian gave me a name: Whiteswan, a spirit  bird who transits sea and sky. I also believe that the psychic attack forced me  to strengthen my power, strengthen my light, because that was all it took to make the attack stop and fill me with a vision of golden light and the presence of God.

Two years later I was drafted into the healing profession and have been doing that ever since. Though the seal medicine healed me, it is the deer that I feel is the most like me and images of people with horns and antlers cast a kind of spell over me. I suppose I am more sure-footed that way.

Chesca Potter

Chesca Potter

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