The Paranormal

This is a big part of my life. Many of my family members have had experiences. During a test drive, my aunt threatened to jump out of the car if my uncle didn't let her out immediately -someone was telling her to get out. The salesperson later revealed that someone had died in that car. There is also a picture of my uncle when he was a child hanging in my grandparents' basement. The trees behind him form the shape of a gruff-looking man seemingly standing behind him. I love that picture.

I've experienced quite a bit, myself. I have seen a few shadow people (none with fedoras, unfortunately -that would be awesome). The first time I saw one I was hanging out with a friend at a nearby school during the summer. Through a set of doors which led up some stairs, I saw the form of a person, completely black, no features -not even eyes, at the top of the landing. It was only there for a second before turning and going out of sight up the next flight of stairs. I had never seen anything like it; it was somewhat frightening, but mostly just intriguing. A couple years ago on a trip up north with my great uncle, I thought I saw some shadow people in the trees as we were driving down a back road. I'm not certain if I was these were just an illusion caused by the actual shadows of the trees. Earlier this summer, though, on the way home from another trip with my great uncle, I saw some sort of shadow creature appear from the trees and drop down into the ditch. It was the size of a child, but with longer, gangly arms. There are reports about shadow children, but I don't know of human/monkey hybrids...

There have been other minor things, like hearing my name whispered (something for which my sister was recently hospitalized), but I'm never sure if it's just my mind forming words from background noise, such as the tap running.

The biggest part of my experience has to do with ghosts. As a child, I had company after going to bed. A number of people, all in older style dress (like Mennonite) would be by my bedside. Every night. There was the group of women and children kneeling by my bed, and the old man wearing a flat cap, arms crossed, standing by the window. There was no colour; they were just transparent contours. They never moved, just stared at me, their faces gaunt. This went on for years, and as you can imagine, I was terrified. I slept with the covers over my head. At one point, I managed to work up enough courage to peek out and see if they were still there: they were, and they had a new member, a man with spiky hair, mouth wide open as if he were screaming, directly in front of my face. That was a fun night. Eventually they went away. I think maybe it was because I started to tell people what I had been seeing for years.

Now that I'm older, I wish that I had tried to communicate with them. When I still lived in the old place I tried talking to them, but I never saw or heard anything again. I had a friend once who did a card reading for me. She said that the ghosts left because of me, that I had convinced myself it was safer not to believe perhaps (my mother tells me she was less than supportive when I first told her). She said that in order to open up again I would have to do a lot of work. Along the way, I'm supposed to meet three people who can help me: someone who is not what he or she seems, someone who will try to bargain with me for their help, and another whom I will fall in love with before realizing that she can help. Time will tell...

Of course, all of this may just be me being stark-raving-mad-as-a-hatter.

Side note: I seem to be drawn to people with paranormal experience; many of my friends have had dealings with the supernatural.

Musing of the Day

Wouldn't it be neat if during a job interview the employer asked, "If a zombie outbreak occurred during your shift, what would you do?"

Mission to Mars

I went to the Cheltenham Badlands, near Terra Cotta, ON, with a friend yesterday. It was quite the sight -like a piece of Mars in the middle of nowhere.



Afterwards, we went to the Belfountain Conservation Area and walked the trail around the river. The water was surprisingly cold, and we cooled our feet [I've just learned the river is spring-fed]. I saw a cuckoo wasp for the second time in my life (having just seen one a few days before), but unfortunately could not get a picture because it zipped away. I went on a suspension bridge (a new experience) above a waterfall. I had lavender tea (delicious), and on the way home we stopped at a cemetery in Rockwood with the most unusual chapel and a number of deceased people named Death!

Antiquing: Part Dos

Mom and I went to Shakespeare and Stratford again yesterday. It turns out that in these crazy towns, most businesses are closed on Monday! We saw a number of antique shops, only one of which was open. A very friendly three-legged cat named Walter lived here.

We stopped in at the same antiques warehouse from our previous trip; there was a gold-painted sickle! Although this would be very dangerous to use against zombies (close combat never a good idea), can you imagine how awesome it would look to decapitate a zombie with a golden sickle?

Arkona

I went fossil hunting at a conservation park in Arkona, ON on the weekend. I went with my friend Leslie and her hiking group. I'm not really a big fossil enthusiast, but I have discovered that I love brachiopods; they're very nice to hold (I find holding small pieces of rock, glass, plastic, such as gems or Crazy Bones to be soothing) and they are somewhat translucent. The fossils were found along a river; you just had to look down and you would see them in the mud -hundreds of them.

We searched along the river for a bit and then went to a lovely waterfall to search for trilobites. I wasn't keen on wading into the water, so I sat on the rocks near the cascade, basking in the misty breeze. I could have sat there all day. I love the wind; few things can re-energize me like it can -I'm wind-powered!

Not So Magic Dance

I walked a labyrinth yesterday evening. It's basically a circular maze on the ground, in which every time you get near the centre, it takes you off in another direction. It is supposed to be a form of meditation; one might focus on their breathing, repeat a mantra, or discover a solution to a problem. All I could think about was how poorly the labyrinth was made. The path you follow was formed of faded pinkish bricks, bordered by faded grey bricks. A more striking contrast would help.

By the time I reached the centre, I was too dizzy to make my way back out (the last few months I've been getting dizzy a lot -geometric patterns do not help this), and unceremoniously stumbled across the path and lay down in the grass.

Dizziness aside, I find it frustrating that I cannot seem to get into all the Zen stuff...

I Gotta Get it Right, I Gotta Quit These Drugs

I had an appointment with my psychiatrist today. I have to decided to begin tapering off my meds. Nine years, 13 different drugs and little to show for it. I want to see what I'm like without all this crap in my system.

Florence Foster Jenkins

I sing. Often. I sing along to my favourite tunes. I am terrible at it. Sometimes no sound even comes out of my mouth.

*Funny story: In Grade 7 we had to play an instrument for music class. All the school had was woodwinds and brass instruments; I chose the flute. I managed to get one note out of it, and could never play anything on it again. The teacher made me switch to saxophone. I could not even get a sound out of this one, ever. The teacher asked me, in all seriousness, if I had had a lung removed...(I still own 2). For the rest of my time in junior high, I just pressed the correct buttons and pretended to be producing music*

You won't ever hear me, though; my singing is for me alone.

(Relation)shipwreck

When I was 18, I experienced my first, and to date, only, relationship. Of the few things I regret, this is high on the list.

I met J- at YAP. I had been in the program for nearly a year when she arrived. The class was doing some sort of crafty thing, and we were joking about how the new students never stayed (a great number of new classmates were never seen after their first day); she took this as a personal insult and responded with biting remarks. In all my life, I've never had someone hate me so much within mere hours of meeting (this should have been a warning sign). Afterwards, during group therapy, she expressed her anger that we were trying to get rid of her. I assured her that it was light-hearted, and that I can often come across as insulting, though that is never my intention. I did not know it at the time, but it seems she was instantly smitten...

J- became close to my friend C-, and we got together to hang out a number of times. One time, after giving me a ride home, I hugged C- goodbye, as I do with many of my friends, and J- asked for one as well. I did so. She then asked for a kiss. I was completely taken aback! I clumsily said "no" and hurried inside. C- later told me that J- was crazy about me.

At first I was very confused, but I started to entertain the idea of a relationship. I eventually invited her over and had my first kiss that night (not counting my "girlfriend" in nursery school). We began dating. We went way too fast, for me, anyway. She really wanted to have sex, which I was nowhere near ready for, so we stuck to some very minor stuff (still outside my comfort zone). You must understand that well into junior high, I could barely stand physical human contact, and the idea of sex repulsed me (the former still being a problem at times), so it was really crazy for me.

Anyway, the relationship lasted less than a month. I began to realize that I didn't really like her; I was just so thrilled to have someone want me. I broke it off. The next day, I called just to see how she was doing; she was suicidal and took a bunch of pills while we were talking. I ended up sending an ambulance to her place. Bad day.

Liminal Pleasantry

Sometimes, I really love the Internet. Researching various wacky sleep-related things, I found a thread ( http://www.stevepavlina.com/forums/spirituality-consciousness-awareness/18481-hearing-voices-just-i-am-falling-asleep.html ) on people's sensory experiences during hypnagogia (the transition between wakefulness and sleep, [and vice versa depending on who you ask]).

Oftentimes, when I am drifting off to sleep, I will hear voices. It is usually a string of seemingly unconnected people talking, and I just happen to be listening in. Sometimes it's just a couple words or sentences, at other times it is pieces of a conversation. The voices are never directed at me, at least the ones speaking English aren't; often I hear stuff in other languages, like German or Italian.

The thread posits many explanations, from the boringly scientific "misfiring neurons", to the annoyingly religious "demons trying to get at you". Perhaps it is the "radio" theory, in which during this state, one can tune in to another plane of existence and hear the dead, or just pick up on "audio" from our own plane.

Some say the experience is quite frightening. Personally, I find it incredibly relaxing. I try to hang on for as long as I can, though is very difficult, and often concentrating on it makes it go away.

Many great thinkers and artists have drawn inspiration and/or the solution to particular problems through hypnagogia. As far as I can tell, what I hear is meaningless. It is still a lot of fun, mind you. I recall one time hearing what I assumed to be a board meeting; someone told a joke and everyone was laughing.

Somniphobia?

Alors, it is nearly 3:00 am, and the keen observer will note that I am not asleep. I've dealt with insomnia for many years, though of late I have developed what I can only describe as a "dread" of going to sleep. When this occurs, I do try to force myself to sleep, though it does not always work, such as right now. I've been using my time awake researching various sleep disorders.

Somniphobia seems to be the best candidate. Of course, as with most of the medical "merde" I experience, it's either unexplainable, or only partially describes an accepted diagnosis, to the point of confusion. I've found a wonderful blog post on this particular disorder, with ample comments from fellow sufferers( http://disorder-sleep.blogspot.com/2006/07/somniphobia-fear-of-sleep.html ).

The most common reasons for the "dread" seem to be a fear of dying whilst asleep or having nightmares. I don't fear dying in my sleep -none of that Greek 'Sleep and his twin brother Death', I'm afraid; it would be the best way to go, anyway. I quite enjoy dreaming, and am disappointed when I cannot recall any dreams from the previous night. I don't mind nightmares, either; they may be terrifying at the time, but I find them simply interesting afterwards. Fervently not wanting to sleep contradicts my desire to dream (which is much easier to do while asleep). Some posters also mention a fear of "not being able to sleep", which seems the least logical, and therefore, "logically", it should be the reason for my dread *grins*. Nope. I have to be even more special! *rolls eyes*

Anxiety and depression (both of which I deal with) can also be factors, though the links are not so clear. It is true that some nights, my mind refuses to shut up (in a talking to me kind of way, how I assume "normal" people think; on average, my thoughts seem to be more like...well I don't exactly know how to define it), but this just gives me all the more reason to wish for unconsciousness.

One issue that a few people mention is the paranormal. This may be the root of my phobia, even though this is far from my thoughts during nights like this...As a child I experienced a great deal of the paranormal, which was frightening, to say the least (I'll make a post on the subject later). It just seems odd that something which occurred so long ago could be having an effect now.

Conversely, at times I often dread being awake when I get up in the morning...