Web Design and Operations
By KatNBoots138

I’m a Highest Good Healer.

I help people unravel things in their highest good.

Looking back at 2015, and how I was a manager, in my 30s, at Pier 1 — a home goods and furniture store — and how The other managers fucking hated me. There were two female managers who were best friends, already working there. Everybody was miserable because it was sales, and I was super happy, silly, hyper, and chipper from working in restaurants. They didn’t like me just on that alone.

I'm heading to the C.I.Y. (Christ In Youth) convention with my youth group in the morning, but tonight my boyfriend bought LSD for us to try. I was a very, very, very sober, youth-group-envolved teen for most of high school, but since I turned 18 last April, I've been trying new things.

I had a really emotional day today and my sessions were very difficult. I was trying to pinpoint exactly what it was because I felt like I was pushing through concrete — my body felt worn out, and I don’t get worn out. It was really tough work.

I worked with someone today who I’ve worked with before, and I was like, oh good, I’ve worked with you before — maybe I’ll be able to do more with you.

Okay, so first of all, holy shit — these sessions. The amount of stuff I can get done in 30 minutes is blowing my fucking mind.

The first person was an hour session, and their team came through with so much healing that we were able to get everything done in 30 minutes and we called it quits. The second person — we got everything done in 30 minutes, then did extra stuff in the next 30 minutes.

Okay, so healing is a lifelong kind of thing. I remember when I first started doing really deep shadow work for myself — where you just look at what comes up and ask, Why does that make me feel some type of way? Is this inner child? Is this past life? Where is this coming from?

Okay, so back when my twelve-year-old, Jay, was like two, they could see ghosts really clearly. Like, as clear as they do in the movie Sixth Sense. To the point where my kid would be like, “See the dog,” and I’d be like, “Yeah, I see the dog.” Then they'd be like, “See the tree,” and I’d go, “Yeah, I see the tree.” Then my kid would say, “See the girl,” and I’d be like, “You see a girl?” and they'd say, “Yeah, I see a girl.” So I’d ask, “Oh, is the girl happy or sad?” and they would say, “Girl is sad. Mhm mhm, sad.” And I’d be like, “Oh, okay…”

So I talked about this before, but I'm gonna bring it up again because it's been a while since I’ve talked about it. There’s no way I would have known that I was gonna be doing what I’m doing now, as in being a healer in this way. There’s no f-ing way.

I started hanging out — as friends — with these two skater guys from school. I was currently avoiding the punk rock scene because of the last few relationships. One of the skater guys started to flirt with me, and I had known him for a few years. He was cute and funny, so sure, why not flirt back?

I want to go live on TikTok and take people on past life journeys, clean and balance chakras, help with headaches and back pain, or whatever else comes up in the moment. No one really knows who I am yet, at least not on TikTok.

But I’m still blinded by the bullshit of “twin flames.” I tell myself his “karmic” (the woman I thought he had finally divorced) must’ve gotten in his head. That he’s scared. Still healing his inner child wounds. I convince myself this is part of the journey.

I'm on the phone with my sister who is seven years older then me. I'm really enjoying the conversation and thinking about how nice it is that she and I can have this good of a conversation for as long as we are.

I was going through what felt like my 80th Tower moment in one year. Everything in my life was burning, crumbling, resetting.
Then my spiritual eyes opened—and the world went paper-thin and gray. 

As I’m getting on the school bus for D.C., my history teacher pulls me aside, holding a newspaper. My dad’s face is on the front page.

And my husband? He’s passing out mid-conversation. He’s leaving the front door open on a busy street. He’s sneaking out in the middle of the night.
I don’t feel safe. Not for me. Not for my babies.
He finally goes to rehab. While he’s in treatment, I find out something that breaks the rest of me

Together, we started to do what I’d only dreamed of before: Healing the timelines. Not just the past, but the present.
We explored oversoul theory. We cleaned up dimensions. Pocket realms. Spiritual garbage piles in between the worlds. Things that didn’t even have names yet.

I remembered this cute guy who had booked a session with me about a month earlier. At the end of the session, he said: “That was nice… we should do that again sometime.” Which is totally date language.

Anyone who commented something like "I'm new here" or "what are we doing?" I would respond "start at the fear cord series and move up". I had created a Jacob's ladder of healing and exploration. 

He’s red-faced, fuming. He points at the swim bag. “How the hell are you doing your homework if your backpack’s right HERE?!”
I start to explain — “That’s not my—” 

Behind my home, two white vans with no windows are parked 24/7. One of them leaves sometimes. The other? Always stays.

Right after I send the email, the entire prison confiscates all inmate devices and replaces them with new tablets. A massive, expensive rollout— new hardware for everyone.

I’m blocked by everyone I called family. No one even tries to contact me to see if it’s true. I’m kicked out of the private room.
I have a massive group of friends disowning me, hating me, dragging my name— no matter how good or helpful I was to them.
I’m horribly confused. Hurt. And suffering a severe loss of identity.