posted on Sep, 14 2010 @ 03:24 PM
I've had so many experiences I can't explain that I barely know where to begin. For the most part I've taught myself to automatically tune out
these incidents, mainly because I'm so easily spooked and the memories tend to take hold when I finally crawl into bed and close my eyes. (I have
terrible insomnia and my fear of being alone - including being in a room where the other person is asleep - can be overwhelming.) The easiest to
ignore are the everyday inconsistencies, and unless I recount them soon afterward they usually slip away into the ether.
Earlier this year I was reading an ATS thread about time/dimension slips and I was sure I'd experienced a few but couldn't put a finger on any
specific memory. Around the time I was having what I could only describe after much research as daytime hypnagogia, where I kept slipping into dreams
while writing or taking a cigarette break, and it was only when I found myself replying to a conversation I couldn't possibly be having that I'd
instantly snap out of it with a kind of "Whoa... what the....???" type feeling. I attribute them to anti-anxiety meds I was taking at the time,
largely because I haven't had any 'slips' in recent weeks since I've been medication-free. I always try to find rational explanations for the
seemingly inexplicable.
Anyway, one day around the time I had a very minor encounter that was nonetheless difficult to explain. I tend to space out a lot and I'm usually
only marginally aware of my more routine actions. I'm guessing I only noticed this because I'd been reading similar stories at the time; I can't
remember the exact details as they are trivial. I'd walked from bathroom to bedroom to either deliver or remove some item - basically walking into a
room and back out; about two steps out of the room I remembered something else I needed and turned to walk back in, only to find the tall black
standing fan blocking my way. "Whaa?" Weird. I remembered I'd pushed it there earlier to make room for my pilates mat, as was the norm. It's a
noisy, bulky fan that I need both arms to lift. The built-in closet on the left of the doorway extends about 4 feet beyond the doorway itself, the
wall forming forming a half-corridor. On the right, and partially blocking the doorway, was a chair supporting a box of junk my flatmate and I had
been sorting through, which made squeezing through the small space between fan and junk a perilous endeavor at best. How in the name of all that is
rational did I get through the first time without moving the fan? I was puzzled. I moved the fan, with effort - I had to lift it at least four feet
to get it to clear the clutter, but I pretty much dismissed it as me being absentminded the first time. I figured I must've moved it without
thinking. It was only later when I recounted it to my flatmate while discussing the same thread that I realized I would've had to move it twice -
once to get in, and once to get back out. I'm not saying I couldn't have - it just seems unlikely given the circumstances, and unlikely that I
moved it twice without realizing. As I said, it's bulky and requires physical effort and a few feet to clear, and it wasn't like I noticed the
discrepancy five minutes later - it was literally seconds: walking out, spinning around, trying to walk back in. We set the fan back in the doorway
and tried various methods of getting into the room without moving it, eg leaning it to the side etc. Nothing doing. We eventually shrugged and gave
up trying to figure it out.
That was one of the very minor occurrences. One of the most major was what I recognized, in retrospect, as a closing chapter in a mystery that had
revisited me for several years until that night. I don't recall when it started, but around my late teens I remember being curious enough to share
it with my mom. I'd noticed that no matter where I was - what country, what city - I'd experience a strange vibration at the foot of my bed. I
knew it wasn't the bed itself because it happened in Italy, in France, in the US and UK, and in the Caribbean. I figured it was just me. I loved
taking long walks, and when it occurred I figured I may have walked too much that day and the muscles in my lower legs were contracting ever so
slightly. It usually started as a very minor and barely perceptible vibration that would increase moderately. I don't recall feeling anything more
than curiosity, though I always drew my legs up and lay in the fetal position to make it stop.
One evening I asked my mom to come lie in my bed and see if she felt it. She did, but didn't seem too concerned. I was relieved - she'd had her
own encounters with the bizarre and inexplicable and was as easily spooked as I am, and if she wasn't worried, I wasn't either. The vibrations
continued, and I simply re-positioned myself each time they started. No problem. About a year later my mom died suddenly and inexplicably, after
being been hospitalized less than 36 hours before with vague symptoms. I got the call around 7 AM, I think. Earlier that morning, just around 3AM,
I'd been awakened by a resounding crash outside my bedroom door. I went out to find Mom's mahogany plant stand lying sideways on the floor, her
favorite ceramic rabbit plant pot shattered. I stared at it in awe. There was no way a mahogany stand with a large rounded base just "fell over"
on its own. No curtains nearby, no pets, the doors were still locked - and in any event we lived in a security-patrolled condo with a 24-hour
receptionist, so the thought of an intruder was fleeting if it came at all. Something made me think of Mom when I saw the scene, but I couldn't make
a connection so I returned to bed and quickly fell asleep. It was only later that I wondered if she had been, in some way, reaching out in
frustration over what was happening. She'd slipped into a coma a few hours after admission and I'd been too freaked out on my visit to really
process it. I wasn't used to Mom being ill, much less hospitalized. I was having trouble dealing with it all. I remained numb through the service
and for months afterward. The coroner's report was inconclusive.
The following year, 1995, I was living in a boarding house while I pursued an English degree at the local university. I was the only tenant, and
shared the residence with the owner, a 70-something year old widow (who didn't look a day over 50, I might add!). It was at this house that the most
insane events of my life occurred. The vibrations had continued unabated throughout this period. If anything, they seemed to increase in frequency,
and it had become slightly unnerving with all the other weird stuff that was happening (which I'll try to post later on). One night I was lying in
my room, just letting my mind wander, when the vibrations started again. For reasons I still don't understand, this time I decided not to draw my
legs up. To my horror, the vibrations increased violently, to the point where the mattress was undulating beneath me. Panicked, I got up and was
about to jump to the floor when something inside me warned me not to. I'm aware that I had a clear understanding of what would happen if I did, but
I was never able to remember what it was. I knew I had to hold on. I was kneeling on the bed, clutching the sides of the mattress and just knowing
innately that its quest was to throw me off; it was like trying to stay on a very soft raft on a very angry ocean. That's the best I can describe
it. How long it lasted I have no idea, but it eventually subsided. I lay back in astounded wonder. Was that a hallucination of some kind?
Wha...??? I was still in shock when seconds or minutes later the vibrations started again. Part of me wanted to experience it again, to verify that
it really had happened, but the more sensible part took over and I drew my legs up instantly. That was the last time I ever felt the vibrations.
Over the years I tried to find an explanation, though I'd pretty much accepted that it was a hallucination. That kind of crazy stuff doesn't happen
in real life, right? Nonetheless, in 2005, around the 10th anniversary, I joined a paranormal community on LiveJournal and posted my experience. One
commenter suggested I'd been attacked by demons, and another suspected I'd been abducted by aliens. I left the community with my head swimming. I
started running random keyword searches and eventually I found a paranormal site with a post from an ex-US Marine who'd had an almost identical
experience in the '60s, right down to the description of the bulging in the center of the mattress and his innate understanding that something
terrible would happen if he tried to jump down to the floor. After reading his account I found it harder to believe I'd hallucinated. He had
witnesses and I didn't, but the descriptions were too similar to ignore, right down to the mattress bulging in the center, which I'd never mentioned
in my own accounts. Unfortunately this meant I had to accept that something really did happen that night, and in the years since I've had the
recurring fear of it happening again. (Re-reading the above I thought I should add that I tried to contact the ex-Marine to discuss this since he's
the first and so far only person I've found who had this experience, but the post was old and the email bounced back.)
More to come later on. I'm spooking myself out...