Dear readers, please bear with me on this longer piece as there’s a good ending.
There are two types of schizoaffective disorder, there’s bipolar type and depressive type. I have the latter type. It’s well controlled; I take one major tranquilliser and one mood enhancer each day.
The effects of this illness are often worse when I feel stressed – I can become paranoid and I can lose sense of reality.
In 2019, I went from here in the UK to Australia to pay my last respects to my recently deceased mother, Eve. I travelled on my own.
I did feel stressed and I started attaching significance to the number of sixes I was seeing. Six to me is a ‘bad’ number. My dad died on the 6/6/66. That was D-Day. For me ‘D’ stands for ‘Dad’ and it stands for ‘death’.
When I looked out of the airplane window at Hong Kong Airport, I saw a ‘Gate 66’. When I went to see the neighbour of my late mother, I saw their house number was 66. Some other examples of this occurred. It was really freaky.
So, one afternoon, I made an appeal to God. I prayed for Him to show me some sevens. A double seven would be good. And a triple seven would be better. For me, seven has much better connotations. I’m sure there’s some biblical support for this. Seven is the number of completion.
What happened next is quite amazing. I had to leave the cabin I was staying in to empty the rubbish. The rubbish skip was not far away. And when I got there, I noticed there was a car parked beside it. The car’s number plate was ‘FAT 777’. I took a photo of it which you can see here.
So what is the moral of this tale? Please comment below if you have any ideas. Thanks!
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