Man, where do I even begin with this whole tarot card mess? It really put my life through the wringer, and I gotta tell you, it’s not some fun little game. It started innocently enough, you know? I was just scrolling online, like you do, and kept seeing these weirdly accurate-looking horoscope posts, then tarot stuff popped up. Curiosity got the better of me. Figured, “what’s the harm in a little peek into the future?”
I remember this one time, a friend, bless her heart, she was really into it too. She had a deck, all shiny and new. She pulled a few cards for me at her kitchen table, just for kicks. She said something about a “major life change” coming my way. At the time, I was pretty bored with my job, feeling stuck. So, when a random job offer popped up a few weeks later, I immediately thought, “Aha! The cards knew!” I jumped ship, no real thought about the new company’s stability or anything. Just, ‘the cards predicted it!’ Big mistake, pal. That job lasted, what, six months? Totally unstable, boss was a nutcase, and I was back to square one, but worse off because I’d burned a bridge.
From there, it just kind of spiraled. I started buying my own decks. They look cool, right? All that intricate art and symbolism. Spent a decent chunk of change on ’em, too. Then I moved from just reading for myself to paying for readings. Online psychics, local readers, you name it. Each time, I was chasing some kind of confirmation, some secret answer to whatever problem I had. And they always told me what I wanted to hear, mostly. Or at least, what sounded profound enough to make me feel like I was getting somewhere.
How Things Started Going Sideways
The thing is, it wasn’t just money I was throwing away. I started losing my own damn brain. Every little decision, I felt like I needed to consult the cards. Should I go out tonight? What if the ‘Tower’ card means something bad will happen? Should I talk to that person? What if the ‘Swords’ mean conflict? My gut feeling, my common sense, all that just went out the window. It got replaced by this constant anxiety, wondering what kind of ‘energy’ I was attracting or what cosmic lesson I was supposedly missing.
- I stopped trusting my own judgment. Seriously, every move felt like it needed cosmic approval.
- My relationships suffered. I’d tell friends, “Oh, the cards said you’re being negative,” or “My reader warned me about this.” People just looked at me like I was nuts. They were probably right.
- Finances became a mess. Not just the decks and readings, but I’d make business decisions based on what a ‘prosperity’ card promised, completely ignoring actual market research or sound advice.
- My motivation tanked. If the cards said something bad was coming, I’d just wallow in it, feeling like fate was sealed. Why even try? If they said something good was coming, I’d just wait around, expecting it to fall into my lap.
I remember one really dark period. I was in a terrible job, struggling to pay bills, and convinced it was because of some ‘blocked energy’ the cards kept showing me. I spent even more money on a “spiritual cleansing” ritual somebody offered online, hoping to clear whatever cosmic gunk was supposedly holding me back. It was a joke. A total scam. All I got was an emptier wallet and a heavier heart.
It was like I had given away my power, my control. I wasn’t living my life anymore; I was just reacting to what some shuffled pieces of cardboard suggested. My world became smaller, filled with superstition and dread. Every minor setback was a ‘sign’; every good thing was fleeting, because ‘the Wheel of Fortune turns’. It just sucked all the actual joy and spontaneity right out of everything.
The real wake-up call came when my sibling finally sat me down. They told me they were worried about me, said I wasn’t myself anymore, that I was obsessed. It hurt to hear, but it also clicked something inside. I looked around my room, full of decks and books on ‘intuitive guidance’, and realized how much of my life I’d handed over to them.
I didn’t quit cold turkey immediately, but I started slow. I stopped buying new decks. I unfollowed all the tarot readers online. I forced myself to make a decision without pulling a single card. It was terrifying at first, like jumping off a cliff. But then, weirdly enough, things started to get a little clearer. I started trusting that gut feeling again. Made a couple of small decisions that actually worked out, based on, you know, just thinking about things and not some cryptic interpretation of ‘the Hanged Man’.
So, yeah, tarot cards didn’t just ruin a few weeks for me; they ate away at years of my life. They made me doubt myself, waste money, alienate people, and just generally float through life with no real direction of my own. It’s a heavy price to pay for a little peek into a supposed future. Take it from someone who learned the hard way: your future is what you make it, not what some cards tell you it is. Be careful out there.
