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A Half-believer

I have always dreamed of monsters, but what kid hasn't. As you age you forget about a lot of those things, right? Well, all but one for me: I refer to it as the black shadow, because that's what it is.

The first time I saw it was when I was a young boy, maybe not even 4 yet, and I was running back toward my room at night and, through the darkness of night, suddenly noticed a figure standing in the doorway. Something told me it was not my dad or mom. It did not move toward me, but it waited for me. I moved toward it, and while trying to push my way through this blackish-brownish shadowy thing, taller than myself, I felt slowly paralyzed. From my hand to my arm to the rest of my body. And then I woke up.

The second time I saw it I was a bit older. Probably 8 to 10. I knew it was in the living room, waiting for me again. I walked toward it, this time very angry, and the same thing happened as last time. I was paralyzed. It had no discerning features other than that it was in the basic outline of a human and it was all black, standing by a window. That room has since been the scene of much drama in my real life and dream life (asleep). I've had dreams of furniture moving around on its own quite violently. I wonder if things have happened to me that I've just blocked out. This was the second house I've lived at in my life.

When I was 13 I moved with my dad to Oregon from California. I passed out in the car along the way and dreamt of looking down at my lap, as if I was aware that I was asleep while I was dreaming. Not quite an out of body experience, though. But, I've had many of these types of dreams in my teen years... a turbulent time. Now I am 26. Anyway, I always begin, with much conserted effort, a gentle rocking back and forth within my own body... until I move slightly, more and more gradually, and finally wake myself up. But what has always tried to paralyze me?

When I was 16 I dreamt of this familiar, completely hateful, and always so cold presence knocking on my door of the third place I lived in my life. This time, I opened the door and saw myself. The look this "thing" gave me was that of pure mockey. It was almost smiling. This blank-expressioned face with a strange animal on its shoulder that kept changing from a bird to a monkey. And such odd clothing, like I was from another planet. Since then I have been diagnosed bi-polar. Things seem to get worse as these dreams do.

When I was 20 I had a very rough time at my mother's. That house still carries with it a lot of emotional weight from generations of family bickering and things like that. One morning after my mother left for work, I listened to some loud rock music and committed vandalism in the back room where I would go to escape my mom and sister when we'd start to gnaw at each other, destroying many occult books in the process that my cousin had gotten into during her downward spiral and battle with schizophrenia. All of this in the early hours of the morning. Of course, I went to jail for that.

In jail... well, I can skip most of that. It sucked, basically. But, I remember one morning having been up all night and feeling anxious from Respirdol that they had given me, thinking I was schizoid -- this was before my diagnosis of bipolar -- and I just had this churning sensation in my chest. I remember walking around, trying to dispell it like the "akathisia," another restless sensation I felt, which, in that case was brought on by the drug. No, this churning in my chest couldn't be relieved by moving around. It seemed like it was everywhere and nowhere. What finally did cure it was listening to this inmate called "Magic" preaching to some others. It was like a crying baby being lulled to sleep. I thanked him for that, even though he was preaching to someone else entirely.

With the passing of my cousin and other such events in more recent years... I question how much of this that I "sense" or "suspect" is real. Often times it's only when I'm waking or about to fall asleep that I suspect the supernatural. And in my cousin's room is where it is the worst, like when I visit my mother. It may be my own perception, my bi-polar, or maybe something truly evil. How closely linked are the supernatural with the mentally ill? Maybe I'm becoming schizophrenic. My doctors just think I'm imaginative, as this writing probably shows. But, I'd say... don't play with fire.

Anything negative draws negativity: music, movies, drugs. Anything that is negative for YOU is what you should make less of in your life if you can't do without it completely. Trust your instincts.
TandemFrost TandemFrost 26-30 Jul 5, 2012

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