posted on Sep, 29 2008 @ 11:16 AM
I hope not to attract pity with this post. I've been encouraged to share by some other members, they themselves not being aware of what I'm about
to write, and so I take that as a sign that perhaps it is my time to tell. I'm encouraged by the fact that I recently feel my time is limited. What
I find ironic is that my fear of telling these events makes me wonder if that is exactly what will limit my time. But at least part of this stems
from my 'separation from the herd' a long time ago. Once separated, always apart. If I'm left in peace, I don't even have a problem with that.
But the question remains, why? I know what happened; when the rift occurred, it seems, but the wonder of why has haunted me since an early age.
These days I'm not sure there is an answer. But I'm going to share what happened for whatever good it might do. Perhaps someone can relate to my
story. Maybe they can find an answer of their own.
When I was four or five, there was something on the roof of my house. The details are vague. I'm not sure how I knew it was up there, but I know I
saw it from my bedroom _ If I'm to say that I've always had an 'astral alarm' system, would that make sense? I'm not sure if what I saw
was physical or ethereal, but I know I was afraid it would fall and I begged it to come down. I don't know how many times this happened, but it
seems to be more than once. This also lead to what might have been a dream of climbing out the window and not being able to climb back in. I don't
know for sure that it ever came down either, but I suspect it did. I can't describe it except to say that my memory shapes it as humanoid and small.
Toddler-sized, with a tail. What I know for sure is that no explanation from anyone I told ever satisfied me, leading them to the conclusion that I
was dreaming it. Over time, I became obsessed to the point that I convinced myself it was a dream simply because I couldn't explain it, or even
properly describe it. I believe now that it was something more than a dream, but I'm not sure what. What happened to my family and I after that was
Without being too explicit, our lives were affected by a violent crime which lead to our moving. At this point I developed a second internal voice
that I frequently conversed with, which I found comforting as I was frustrated from a young age (2?) that I couldn't adequately communicate my
thoughts to others. And so began my sense of alienation. Somehow I didn't belong anymore. This feeling was obviously manipulated and magnified
when I became a victim. We moved again.
From this point on my life degenerated hellishly and the secondary voice became antagonistic to the point of psychological torture. I became obsessed
with the occult, magic, aliens, telepathy, etc. I would practice mental control of my body's automatic functions such as heart rate and breathing
and practicing what I would later recognize as yoga postures. I also worked at energy manipulations and thought transference. All were successful to
some degree, although I was always disappointed with what I considered mediocre results. I also began having bizarre dreams that have impacted my
life, but that I couldn't possibly describe in any effective way, dealing with a being that I called the 'king of the monsters'.
At least some of this was due to the constant psychic attacks of my mother. I know this could be considered a disputable fact, but I submit that
telling someone they are being watched and their thoughts monitored is just as effective as any real psychic power. I was seven at the time, and this
would be my life until the age of about 16.
Up to this point it's easy to characterize everything I believe I've experienced to be the result of abuse and the obvious psychological detriment
that goes along with it. But since then I've been occasionally confronted with real events that call into question the idea that I'm suffering from
a purely psychological condition. Some of these events have witnesses other than myself, some don't. The one that haunts me the most is my close
encounter with a fabled 'black helicopter' around the age of 20. I was in the car with my partner and it flew from beneath the overpass we were
crossing to hover and briefly follow our car from less than 50 yards away. I'm hard pressed to find a rational explanation. Or for the 'star'
that followed us one night, stopping and starting with the car, coming to rest when we parked and disappearing after we went into the house. There
are other events, but these two were witnessed not just by myself and so I can give them more credibility. Others are far more bizarre, but left real
world evidence that is difficult to explain.
For a long time I supposed that these events indicated something of importance in my life. Lately I question how to value importance and no longer
see that word pertaining to me. I think I missed the boat, so to speak, and another post illustrates that I'm not a very good swimmer
But there doesn't seem to be anything I can do about that. Maybe the sum of these experiences is what I've left here. Not an enduring legacy, but
who am I to judge. Lately my life has felt incredibly repetitious, as if I'm floating in a vortex, passing by things I'm already familiar with as I
draw closer to the center. A sort of life lived as deja vu. For that reason alone, I feel my time is drawing to a close as I have no idea how to
overcome the spiral and set my life in a new direction, if that is even possible. But this isn't an elaborate suicide note. I intend to wait and
see as I've done for the past 35 years. It just seems that possibilities draw further away from me as time goes on and it feels as if a void is
forming ahead of me.
Perhaps I'm simply mad. I can live with that. But it seems to be the course of my life that I can never get a firm grasp on any of this and so
ultimately what is cause and what is effect become indefinable. I don't suppose this post will lead me to any such answers either. Truth be told,
I'd be much happier with peace than with answers. Something just as distant most of the time as the fear of what 'they' will do to me if they
'find me' is to pervasive to be ignored. As a student of psychology, I know how irrational this fear is, but I submit that this is why reality is
subjective. Whether 'they' come for me or not, the effectiveness of the threat is real. Now I wait and watch.