In 1985, shortly after the Blessed Virgin Mother Mary’s apparition to me during a PRAY FOR PEACE rosary gathering at a garden shrine where I was in ecstasy, I went on retreats with the Benedctines, Franciscans, and some other orders which names escape me right now. I felt a strong calling to join the Cloistered Carmelite Monastery in Savannah, Georgia. I have the same birthday as our Prioress. I could hear God’s gentle voice whenever I would do my chores such as mopping the floor in the visitors’ parlor, watering plants, going food shopping with a professed nun, cleaning our retreat house, giving care to our elderly nuns, raking leaves in our cemetery, preparing objects for daily Holy Mass and occasionally, washing dishes. My pet peeves were the racer snakes (no pun intended) which were few enough that I panicked a lot. Another professed nun adroitly cut their heads off with a shovel. We took turns making a solitary retreat for a week. God was guiding my thoughts and I was writing them. I was a postulant for 7 months and it was heaven! But I started missing Mom and I had to call her more frequently. I was starting to get sick. I did not tell the nuns I had bipolar disorder, however, I had my supply of Lithium, my medicine, and I was religiously taking them. I don’t know what triggered my symptoms but they noticed my downward spiral. Now that I think about it, maybe what I needed was some kind of therapy with someone on a regular basis. Prayers, my journal, my relationships and interactions with the nuns should’ve been enough. My brain is so complex. Our quarters were fenced in from an ocean and I saw the moon and thought it was the host and the water was the wine. In my mind, they were enormous Jesus Christ’s Body and Blood and if I jumped over, I would drown but go straight to heaven. I didn’t dwell on it though. Instead, I lay on the garden path in my pajamas for a little while and went back to my bedroom. I wasn’t suicidal, however, God gets all the credit. For sure, He sent someone from heaven to shine a light on my dimming mind and my guardian angel must’ve pulled me back. I had a bagful of scapulars and I snuck a handful in each of the nuns’ bedroom. In the morning, I saw a small stained glass of Mary, the Immaculate Conception, hanging on a tree. My body started aching excruciatingly. It had become physically tormenting to perform any task which I otherwise did effortlessly and cheerfully so they took me to the hospital. I was diagnosed with rhabdomyolysis. After a week in the hospital, they gave me some time to heal but they had to let me go. Our Prioress called Mom and my brother and asked them to come get me. I wonder whether our Prioress thought Mom was to blame for not telling them about my mental illness. It’s absolutely not Mom’s fault. I’m an adult and I’m responsible for my own actions. I’m able to speak up for myself. I didn’t openly admit I was sick because I had an ulterior motive. I was so involved in my Catholic faith, I had to try to be a nun, even for a short time. As it turned out, that’s all the time God meant for me in the monastery. He had other plans for me. Mom needed me. She was healthy and strong in her early 80’s and my brother was around but she wanted me with her. I was her live-in aide in a senior housing. We were very close and I loved her very dearly. I thanked God a new exciting chapter of my life had just begun. Heaven is a state of mind. We went to church for Holy Mass daily. Mom and I received our certificates to be Eucharistic Ministers when we were still in Jersey City, N.J., in 1987. The day before she passed, it was the feast of Mother Mary’s Assumption, my sister and I went to Holy Mass and I was able to get a Holy Communion for Mom. It wasn’t until later that I learned I gave my Mom Viaticum, her last Holy Communion, for her journey from this life to the next. I was so sure her next life’s journey was heavenward. She was a holy woman. I got my first Catholic education from her and she had been my inspiration to stay on the long and narrow path to heaven which few travel versus the wide and well-travelled road to perdition. She passed in 2017. Fast forward to year 2022, I remained very devout and close to Jesus and Mary, albeit, as if possessed, I fell victim to satan. An evil man scammed me, malisciously and criminally took an incredible amount of money from me. I totally lost my mind!!! According to my brother, I hit my left eye brow on the corner of a table in our living room, it wounded me and it bled profusely. I had no recollection of anything that happened to me from hereon out. He said an ambulance took me to Fort Walton Beach Medical Center and there, a doctor stitched up my open wound. I was admitted due to my severe depression. I could remember certain things and certain people but nothing was sticking to me. My brother said they asked my psychiatrist sister’s and his permission to give me electric shock treatments because I was non-responsive and I wasn’t eating or sleeping. He also said I was in the hospital for 4 months. I guess it was 4 weeks before I was discharged when Jesus Christ came to me in the flesh. I was so sure it was HE!!! He had His intermediate brown tunic (darker than the shroud He was buried in) over His head and wrapped around His body, but He was wearing dark brown pants underneath so He was adequately clothed when He would cross left leg over right knee.  He had a rope around His waist and He was wearing sandals. He had a medium-built body, surprisingly not heavy set, in spite of His good healthy appetite. He had a fair complexion which is common among middle easterners. As soon as I looked at Him, I started telling everybody that was JESUS!!! They were all looking at Him with astonishment. I asked Him whether it was okay I got His food for Him. I don’t know what made me ask whether He would like me to get Him 2 servings of meals for Him and He said He would like that and because He was always hungry. I said getting His food was the least thing I could do for Him and how I really loved to serve Him. He said it was okay. The nurse giving the meals did not ask why Jesus wanted 2 servings after I told them that was Jesus. He/she just gave me 2 meals for Jesus each time I came up. I would get Jesus’ meals first, give them to Him before I would go back to get mine. I went wherever He went, sat next to Him, ate with Him, opened the door for Him to the TV room and listened to Him. One time, while we were eating in the TV room, after He ate His hot food, I think it was chicken (we seemed to always have boiled chicken, mashed potatoes and veggies), He said, “I want some cold food, too.” Someone reached out a sandwich to me to give to Jesus. It was tuna fish salad in a big round soft tortilla bread folded in half or pita bread. He said thank you and ate it like He was still hungry. The pita bread was so reminiscent of their bread in His time. It looked just like the bread He broke and shared with His apostles on the last supper. Only this had fish inside. Maybe one of those fish which His fishermen apostles caught in this day and age because it had mayonnaise (hahaha). He was telling me, the women in His life, “Some were good friends, some were best friends.” I was so insistent to make sure that one of the women in the psychiatric ward with me met Jesus and got to know Him better. She had a peculiar odor like dried sweat that could use a shower and I said to her, “You must be good at your profession and you must work hard.” I had the impression she was a hooker. She seemed European because of her accent, tall, sexy and very pretty. It’s funny because Jesus had the very same peculiar odor so I said the same thing to Him. But, of course, His profession was preaching, healing, performing miracles, exorcising demoniacs, raising the dead back to life, forgiving sinners, calling disciples, making the blind see, the deaf hear, the lame, the cripple, the paralyze walk and appearing to devout believers like myself. What He said to me about the women in His life made me have the insane notion that He could’ve had sexual relations with them. We walked around and around the hallways together many times. We didn’t talk much but just He being with me and I being with Him was all the world and heaven were meant to me. I was in physical and spiiritual ecstasy. Finally, one night, we were only 2 in line to get our night time medicines. He was in front of me. He said, “God demn,” and then He disappeared. It didn’t worry me at first. I just thought that if He were condemning me, it was just for that moment and I can always go to confession and He will always forgive me. Or He could have meant it for somebody else. The side effect of the electric shock treatments was memory loss. I’m so happy that I have not lost my memory of Jesus. Jesus was so real to me like anybody else. I have forgotten many things including what was happening to me inside the hospital but I can never forget Jesus. He is the only one worth remembering if I should forget everything else in the world. At confession, during a Life in the Spirit Seminar, I told the priest I thought Jesus had meant to tell me He had sexual relations with some women in His lifetime and the priest said it can’t be true. He said seminarians are taught to believe in the celibacy of Jesus. I debated a little. Every single time I think of Jesus being with me in the hospital, I cry. He never abandoned me. He will never abandon me. Whenever I would look at my picture of Him on the wall with His Sacred Heart, I would cry knowing how much He loves me that He would show up to me in my craziness, at the time I needed Him the most. I would smile at Him even when I miss Him so much because I know I’ll see Him again, hoping I don’t have to get sick so we can be together again. I have visited the hospital twice and all the nurses have come out to see me. Nobody will deny that was Jesus. He is not in their records or lists as one of their patients. He was only there for me and for those who believe enough to have faith or to remember that Jesus has come to visit. I’ve been pulling from the back of my head everything I could possibly remember about Jesus. His face was average in width and His beard was not too thick that it noticeably converges down into a slight cleft chin. His shoulder-length head hair, not so bushy eyebrows, moustache, side hair and beard were dark brown. His wide piercing eyes were light brown. His nose cartridge protruded straight out from His nose bridge between His eyes with His nostrils naturally extending out, serving God’s purpose of breathing in and out His Holy Spirit. The lower part of His cheeks were practically all covered with hair and His lips were wide and slightly puckered up. He smiled a lot more than talked so I was able to see His teeth. His teeth were straight and white like He had worn braces and brushed His teeth many times a day. He was around 6 feet 5 inches tall. He looked just like an ordinary Jew in His time, over 2,000 years ago, only more handsome, of course! I now regret not touching Him, asking Him to bless me or looking for His wounds. I was completely absorbed with Him that I became speechless. I had nothing to say but I felt Him deep inside of me. It was a fathomless experience. I think I’m blessed for witnessing His being or presence starting with the doctors, staff, nurses and patients during my stay in the hospital when Jesus was physically there. Dr. Randy Neil, Dr. Kay Williams, Susannah, Cameron, Jennifer, Rachelle, Elsa, Marie, David, Ryan, Katherine and Kim will vouch for me. I missed a few other people, especially, the other admitted patients with me who were discharged sooner or later. I thought the European woman would gain more if it were her first time to hear of Jesus, let alone meet Him in the flesh. Because each time I pulled her to come near Jesus, she would shy away. I prayed that Jesus would let me know before He left. He did when He simply vanished from the medicine line that one night. I looked for Him and I missed Him. But thank God, it must’ve been only about a week before I was discharged. Jesus has never abandoned me. I believe things happen in God’s time. And God truly works in many mysterious ways