Inception.

I’ve previously established that I have experienced psychic attacks through my dreams, among other things. (Little did I know that this was the beginning of something much bigger.) After a bit of time, it was the second semester of my third year in college and I had gone home for Spring Break. What could possibly happen? Partying? Hanging out with friends? Shopping? Nope. Dreams. Or rather, one dream in particular.

My parents love to travel for a week or two at a time. While doing so, I – many times – am assigned the task of house/pet-sitting. This is all fine and good (yes, even on my Spring Break) because I get to spend some quality time with the cuddly dogs, can binge on seasons at a time of shows available on Netflix, am able to wear pajamas all day and not have a care in the world other than the dishes in the sink caused by yours truly. The down side – having to sleep in a big, empty, VERY QUIET house with said cuddly dogs – who like to bark at nothing and scare the bejeezus out of me – while in a bed all by my lonesome (well, aside from my dog).

What happens when this combination is thrown together? You’ve got it. Very weird – potentially treacherous – dreams, that may, or may not, include a psychic attack/experience. LO and BEHOLD, one slightly chilly evening, after locking up the house, turning out the lights (only the ones downstairs, mind you), and once again going through the motions of teeth-brushing, contact lens removal, and clothes tossing – I stood beside my bed with the eerie feeling that something was outside my window staring in. My room being on the second floor, I pulled my curtains and made an attempt to put aside these thoughts and crawl into my very cold bed with my very warm dog.

Without even trying, I was fast asleep and had begun dreaming. Already. A normal dream it seemed. For some reason I started off seeing everything from “top-view” and then moved to first-person view. I was driving down the road in my boyfriend’s neighborhood, taking him home after going to the mall together. I slowed and made the usual U-turn, pulled to the curb, kissed him goodnight and drove away. As I was driving away, I woke up.

Laying on my side, head on pillow, right arm outstretched, left arm hugging my hip. I notice I have a pen in my right hand and a pad of paper underneath it. Which is strange because I don’t remember having these things when I fell asleep. But I shrug it off knowing that there are endless possibilities to the things you might find in my bed covers, being the …ahem…”oh-so-organized” person that I am. Next thing, I feel a pressure on my left arm. My stomach drops. Here I was, alone in this house, laying in my bed helpless, with an unknown force pressing on my arm. Where is my dog? Why isn’t she barking!? The “entity” pressed up my arm and onto my shoulder. I suddenly knew it was trying to enter/possess my body! I knew it’s intention. Whoever, whatever, this thing was, wanted to move through me and write on the pad of paper that was beside me. Hence the pen I was holding. I started to panic, of course, not wanting this thing in me, on me, near me!! And then I woke up. Again.

Now, you might imagine I was a bit freaked out by what had just occurred. After jolting awake, heart thumping, ears ringing from the silence in the room, I notice that the “pen and paper” was really my dog soundly asleep on my arm. The pressure? Well. As far as I could see, there was nothing there other than my bedspread. Regardless, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something oddly supernatural had really just happened to me. I had no idea that dream inception was a real thing, and even less knowledge about what I’ve discovered to be “automatic writing.”

Seriously though, what was going on was something much bigger than I had even realized. Let me just say, the dreams have only gotten weirder.

-Stay tuned-

It Was Terrifying!

In my last post, I wrote about the recurring “psychic attacks” and fairly odd dreams I had as a child and how my mother taught me a very useful defense. After learning this, there isn’t a single dream I can recollect – until I was 22 years old and in my third year of college. Any dreams I had up until that point were normal, uninteresting, typical dreams. Nothing special.

First let me give you a bit of back-story. I feel it’s a bit necessary in order for you to fully understand the emotional and mental state I was in at the time. I started in my first relationship when I was 18 years old. He was my first boyfriend, first dance, first kiss, first…everything. Well we had been going through some…rough patches, to say the least, and had broken off the relationship (this is when I’m 22). I went through a severe depression. For me, there was no light at the end of the tunnel. He and I were now attending the same college, (he had come to the school to be with me), so it was really difficult. My grades started slipping, I couldn’t focus in classes, didn’t want to hang out with friends. Happiness seemed pretty far off.

At the same time that this was going on, I was also living in a two bedroom apartment with a roommate (let’s call her Jes). Jes had taken to staying at her boyfriend’s place and wasn’t around all that much. This left me to my own devices in a quiet, lonely apartment. The depression set in even further. What made it all the more worse was that, Joy, my best friend at the time (well…she still is) and I weren’t speaking either. She and I had had a fight the previous semester while she and I were roommates in a dormitory on campus.

So let’s line these things up. No boyfriend. No best friend. No roommate. I cried a lot.

Here’s where the dream comes in. Or rather, possibly the worst psychic attack I’ve ever experienced thus far. I was home at the apartment in my very sorrowful state. I had been staying up til the wee hours of the night as of late because my depression was causing sleep deprivation, among other things. I can’t exactly recall as to what time I actually went to bed. I had been watching TV and eventually my brain suggested that it was time to rest. I went through the motions. Changed my clothes, brushed my teeth, and left one light and the TV on in my room. Silence has never been comfortable for me. I climbed into bed, dismissing the homework I was supposed to have done. Well, then I slept. But not really.

As I explained in my previous post, when I experience a psychic attack, the dream starts out normal but then twists into something sinister. This was the worst time this has ever happened. I was in a normal dream, unfortunately which I cannot remember. I was probably dreaming of my typical daily activities: going to class, coming home, going to bed. And in the dream, the next thing I know, there’s a growling figure in my room which proceeds to climb on top of my and hold my chest and my forehead down. A loud ringing started in my ears and my entire body, from head to toe, is tingling intensely. I can’t move. Can’t get this, thing off of me and begin to panic. THEN I woke up. The difference this time, when I woke up the thing was still on top of me! I couldn’t physically see it, but the pressure on my chest and head didn’t go away. When I used my ever faithful defense that my loving mother had taught me, it was as if the thing was just laughing at me. It was terrifying! I was paralyzed. The thing finally lifted. The ringing in my ears and tingling in my body started to fade. I was able to look around the room. And even though whatever it was had removed itself from on top of me, I could still feel standing by my bed.

The next thing I did? I ran the Hell out of there! Well… out of my bedroom at least. I didn’t sleep for the rest of the night. Sat on the couch and watched TV like a zombie. Even called my (at the time) ex-boyfriend to see if he’d let me stay at his place. No luck that night.

Aside from car accidents I’ve been in, this was probably the most terrifying, jarring, scarring thing I have ever experienced. I didn’t know what this thing was. The next day, I had to mend things with Joy. Because otherwise, I would have thought I was going crazy. I explained to her what happened. She didn’t really know what to do either.

After that night, I didn’t sleep any better – if at all. And when I did sleep, guess what. More psychic attacks. Nothing near as bad as that night, but I still wasn’t getting any rest. I did stay some nights at my at-the-time-ex-boyfriend’s apartment, just because it seemed like he helped block whatever it was causing my night terrors.

Some time later, the terrifying dreams slowed. I was back together with my boyfriend, Joy and I were talking again, and “Jes” had decided to move out. It was my apartment now. Interestingly enough though, the corner of my bedroom where my closet was, was actually physically darker than anywhere else in my apartment. Most of the time I wouldn’t even go in there unless it was to grab clothes.

That’s when things started getting…interesting.

I Dream of Genie. Or Do I?

The next dream I can recall (if I’m to keep with the timeline of my life) would be what I’d consider to be my first psychic attack. I was probably eight or so years old. In all honesty though, I just remember being really young when I had this dream, so the given age might not be quite accurate. Regardless, this was a strange dream to have. Every time I recollect this dream to someone, they give me a look as though I’m a crazy person and need psychiatric care.

In the dream, I’m the same age as I am in waking life. I’m inside what looks like would be the inside of a genie’s bottle/lamp. The walls are round and padded with red cushioning and drapes surrounded by large red cushions to sit on. Something like this cushion here:

(Photo credit to Fulya Karahan Dursun)

The ceiling was low with a stained glass, round window in the center (if it were a genie bottle, this would presumably lead to the neck of the bottle). There was a red glow about the whole room. It was comfortable and warm. I was sitting with my legs crossed on one of the oversized persian cushions, holding a white, plastic clothes hanger in my hands. Who on earth knows WHY I was holding a plastic clothes hanger?! I dont! And yes, I do mean one of these:

(Photo credit: www.sears.com)

Nevertheless, what makes me think that this dream was my first psychic attack, is that as I was holding the clothes hanger, I accidentally snapped it in half. As I snapped it in half, there was an overwhelming sense that I had done something terribly wrong. THEN came the unbearable ringing in my ears and a tingling sensation throughout my whole body. A sense of impending doom was surrounding me and it felt as though something inherently evil was bearing down on me attempting to harm me.  Then I awoke.

I would have dreams like this a lot as a child. It would be utterly normal and in an instant would turn into an overwhelming sense of evil surrounding me. There would always be the ringing and always be the tingling from head to toe. I didn’t really know what was happening. What I DID know, was that my mother taught me how to defend myself in my mind. As I grew up in a Christian home, I was taught to say the name of Jesus Christ, in my dream. It worked. Every time I was dreaming and felt the impending evil, I would use this defense. Suffice it to say, those dreams stopped…until recently. (Don’t worry, I’ll explain in another post later on.)

What I also find interesting is that because of these particular dreams, I later developed a fear of sleeping a certain way. I HAD to have my Tweety pillow (don’t judge) facing a particular side, while laying on my right side, facing away from my window, with the door closed and a nightlight. Sure I was a child and these things aren’t too abnormal for a growing child. What is abnormal is that I’ve started doing this again…as a 23 year old…who has finished college, gotten a job, and is engaged. But I’m getting off track. If I didn’t  follow these particular rituals, I would have these psychic attack dreams.  Let’s just say, this wasn’t the last I dreamed of them.

Big Bad Wolf.

As I grew up I had recurring dreams. One main dream really stuck out. The other dreams that haunted me repeatedly had variations and I’ll get to those in future posts, but right now I’ll tell you about the one dream that utterly terrified me as a child. When I say child, I mean I was between the ages of five and twelve. Here it is:

I’m standing in the hallway of a rickety, broken, worn shack. One of those shacks where you can see through the boards of the walls, floors, ceiling, doors….you get the picture. It was all wood, two floors, with a decent amount of rooms and no furnishings – just bare. It was obviously lived in a long time ago, but no person inhabited it any longer. The hallway led to a living room on the left, a staircase leading upstairs on the right, and a kitchen at the other end. Now, according to my dream, my cousin Emily (who’s two years younger than myself) and I were staying in this beaten down abode. Only heaven knows why (I certainly don’t). Here’s the thing though – we were TERRIFIED to go into or even walk past the living room. The living room had a tall stone fireplace. It was also just as worn as the shack, with pieces of stone missing, ashes filling the surrounding area, and a darkness about it that seemed unnatural. If we entered the room or so much as went near it, a white hot fire would spark and begin to blaze on its own. As the fire grew, a wolf, standing on its hind legs (similar to a werewolf, I’d suppose) would climb out of the hearth, growling and gnashing its strikingly sharp canines.  (Something like the below picture – credit to Trower – http://tankman2008.newgrounds.com/)

The wolf would proceed to chase us through the shack and out into what was complete, desolate, barren desert land. The chase continued around the house in circles (much like what you’d see in a Road Runner & Wile E. Coyote cartoon). The next thing I know, my cousin and the wolf have disappeared altogether and I’m left standing in this desert next to the abandoned shack. I felt alone and confused. I then re-entered the house of decaying boards only to wake up.

This dream played over and over a number of times when I was younger. Maybe I was watching too many cartoons, or maybe it really had some significance. Either way, I always woke up terrified.

When in Spain.

The very first dream I can recall is from when I was one and a half years old. I was with my family in Spain. We traveled a lot the first couple of years of my life, so it’s not too strange that I was there. What IS strange, is that I remember a dream I had there. This is the furthest back I can remember of ever having a dream. So here it is:

I was standing in our hotel room next to the end of the bed. On the left side of me was the door into the room. In front of me was the bed. On the far left was the doorway to the attached bathroom. On my far right was a doorway to the balcony outside the hotel room. There was a bright green light being emitted from the bathroom. It was very quiet and very dark. I was frightened by the green ambiance. I walked across the room, passing the bed, and went outside onto the balcony. The balcony was painted white with wrought iron railing. The outside light was on. A typical outdoor lamp. And on the railing of the balcony was sitting a black cat. The cat was very serene. It just stared at me. It was calming and soothing to see the cat. I didn’t know why it was there or the reason I was drawn to it. Everything just was. I knew there was  purpose. Some meaning that was bigger than I could understand. And then I woke up.

Pretty intense dream for an almost-two year old, right? At least I think so.

To Start…

I have always had crazy dreams growing up. This is where I’m going to share them. Please feel free to comment or give me your interpretations on them. They get pretty insane!