I decided to write this article after discovering Carissa Conti's In2worlds website and reading what she has to say about Interference and how it is used to break apart relationships.
I have some stories of my own to tell about interference on an individual level; I want to add my personal experiences to the available information.
This article covers only minor incidents, not the vicious attacks, major derailings and sabotage I have endured along the way.
Interference in childhood
The first occurrence that I can remember of a particular type of interference that I call 'nipping in the bud' happened when I was very young. I had invited twin girls from my class in school to my birthday party. I remember their names, but I can't remember much else about them, apart from the fact that this was the first - and last - time that they visited my house. We were playing games; my father was clowning around and he threw his arms up and 'accidentally' hit one of the girls in the face. She burst into tears, and the sisters decided to go home.
I soon forgot this incident, and did not think about it for many years. It is insignificant in itself, but a pattern emerges when it is considered together with other, similar incidents.
By chance, when I was around five years old, my father ‘accidentally’ hit me right in the middle of my forehead with the end of his billiard cue: by coincidence this is the area of the ‘third eye’.
I have some stories of my own to tell about interference on an individual level; I want to add my personal experiences to the available information.
This article covers only minor incidents, not the vicious attacks, major derailings and sabotage I have endured along the way.
Interference in childhood
The first occurrence that I can remember of a particular type of interference that I call 'nipping in the bud' happened when I was very young. I had invited twin girls from my class in school to my birthday party. I remember their names, but I can't remember much else about them, apart from the fact that this was the first - and last - time that they visited my house. We were playing games; my father was clowning around and he threw his arms up and 'accidentally' hit one of the girls in the face. She burst into tears, and the sisters decided to go home.
I soon forgot this incident, and did not think about it for many years. It is insignificant in itself, but a pattern emerges when it is considered together with other, similar incidents.
By chance, when I was around five years old, my father ‘accidentally’ hit me right in the middle of my forehead with the end of his billiard cue: by coincidence this is the area of the ‘third eye’.