I continued my motions to get out of bed and get closer to it. It appeared to be raising its hand or making some kind of gesture with its arm. I
don’t know exactly what was happening because I was so fixated on its face. If I had to guess, I think out of the corner of my eye I was seeing it
raise its hand or making some kind of movement. I instantly blacked out for several hours.
I woke up and immediately thought “Okay, what the—was that?” I wanted to tell somebody. I wanted to tell my friends, my mom, my girlfriend. But
I knew nobody would understand. It’s the same reason I could never tell anybody before. Except this time I was beginning to fear for my mental
health. In fact, I have lasting trauma to this day. I absolutely still cannot EVER have my bedroom door open. Even if it’s open a tiny crack, I
freak out and reprimand whoever left it open. Likewise, every time I wake up, I immediately look toward my door to make sure it’s closed and that no
hooded entities are watching me. I still have tremendous trouble sleeping at times because I feel like I’m being watched in the darkness.
Back to the story: A few weeks passed and the whole incident became irrelevant. I became diagnosed with a very aggressive cancer after an ER visit and
the next few years of my life was one of a cancer patient. That’s another story entirely; albeit, it is a fascinating tale filled with drama, anger,
heartbreak, miracles, and redemption. But again—another story. The only thing I’d like to point out is that not once did I have any encounters,
wake-ups, or sleep paralysis in the 2-3 years that I was treated for cancer. I often wondered why they seemed to stop so abruptly when I was having
these episodes at least once or twice a week before my diagnosis.
Sleep paralysis did not resume until I was well into my remission (by the way I’d like to point out that my surviving this cancer was nothing short
of a miracle. None of those doctors had faith that I would make it. The attending doctor in the ER who discovered the tumors estimated that I
literally had days, if not hours before my organs would shut down. I’ve had a few physicians look at my medical reports and records and just become
dumbfounded that I am alive and in as good a shape as I am).
I was also experiencing a lot of depression at this time. I felt abandoned by all my friends and my girlfriend—I had no support, understanding, or
empathy from my family either. I never felt so alone and even let my depression lead me down the road to contemplated suicide. I couldn’t see a life
for myself after what I’d been through. Cancer treatments left me with several weakened vital organs, neurological damage in the extremities, as
well as moderate hearing loss in both ears; the list goes on and on! I missed out on some high school education and did not have the benefit of
socializing in a teenage atmosphere. Instead I spent literally months at a time alone in specially quarantined hospital wards. Despite all that, I am
alive, healthy, put myself through college, and held a successful job for several years without collecting disability or any benefits. I golf, play
hockey, and continue to jam on my drums to this day.
I survived the illness but the post-depression was really taking its toll on me. I was looking for answers for everything! I was a teenager, I was a
cancer survivor, and I was a victim of some notion of being visited by non-human entities. The sleep paralysis began to take a fearful turn as well. I
started having frightful hallucinations and voices with them. It took me many years but I finally told my mom what was happening to me before and
after the cancer. I expected her to call me crazy and send me off to a psychologist. (I have seen a few psychologists in my younger days already;
never told a one about the visitations though.)
But, instead, she told me she believed me and began to ask questions to learn more. This opened up our relationship in a new way. We had already
developed a very strong bond during my cancer. She was the only one who cared for me during that time. She quit drinking and became the best mother I
could have ever asked for. She was emotionally supportive every step of the way—went above and beyond the call of motherhood to see me through my
cancer. Doctors had even attempted to prepare her for my eventual death because they could not stop internal bleeding or revive me on a few occasions.
She even revealed to me that she once saw the “boxy Michelin Man” in a near-sleep state. This is how open and uncensored our discussions were
growing.
Instead of ridiculing me and calling me crazy, my mom began to share things with me that she never told anyone. She told me how she and her sisters
and one brother all saw a UFO when they were kids and it scared the daylights out of them. She told me how she would feel like she was floating up out
of bed as a teenager when she would lie down. [Continued..]
edit on 13-7-2012 by NarcolepticBuddha because: (no reason given)