While I was writing about the house in CO, I should have also mentioned that I had practically an obsession with making sure the back door was secure. The back door led out of the kitchen thru a little sunporch with another door to the garage, and a short little alley. Not only did both doors lock, but the outer one had a large plank of wood with a V on one end that sat under the door knob and secured it even more. It seemed to me that whoever had caused the trauma upstairs had come in that way, and the victim or next tenant had decided that it wasn't going to happen again. There was a feeling of resolve in the sunroom. It happened and it isn' going to happen again, not on my watch... Also, during this time I was constantly seeing what I called black "cats" out of the corner of my eye. Little darting black shadows, that were always just out of full sight. I had a cat, but it wasn't her that I was seeing. She was always somewhere else when I saw the shadow "cats".
In my mid-twenties, I found myself living w/my parents again for a few years. They had a single wide trailer that had a large back deck that my Daddy enclosed for me to have a room. It was a nice little room and held my stuff quite nicely. I had started going to churc again and there, of course, was turmoil in the church. Why does there always have to be turmoil in the church?? But that is another blog for another day. Things were really dramatic and dragging on with no relief in sight.
One night I was sound asleep in my bed, and my Mom was just around the corner from my room. I woke up suddenly - fully awake, no lag time, wide awake. I was on my back looking up, and at the side of my bed stood this black figure. It was the exact image of the grim reaper. Black robes, tied with a black rope, hood up, no face, just a black hole where the head would normally be. It was horrible! Terrifying! But I called out to Jesus and pled the blood of Christ and after a little while it went away. I went to the pastor of the church, and the reaction I got from him was no help at all. He forbade me to speak of it to anyone again. He was very vague as to why I shouldn't speak of it, but I really expected to get some help and not be treated like I was either crazy or possessed. During the same time, I had been in a church service, sitting in the pews instead of on the platform. It was a worship service and things were as they normally would be. I had had my eyes open and then closed them. I could see angels on the platform behind the chairs where I usually sat. I could see them like they were in photo-negative. They were about 10 feet tall, with an inner glow, white, shining, with wings, silent, observing. You could feel that they wanted to join in the worship but were just to be there, not participate. That was as wonderful as the previous incident was horrifying. Within a year, I had left that church, and I haven't really been back since. I have visited a time or two, but not seriously joined the church since. There was a lot of pain and hurt involved, and I am working my thru that with the grace of God and His mercy.
Things quieted down for a while after that. I would still have a sense of knowing when someone was going to pull out in front of me, or if I drove by an accident scene, I could tell if someone had died in the accident. But no real big events. It was going to come back stronger than ever and sooner than I thought...
Friday, July 30, 2010
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Paranormal Part 2
While I was a teenager, I had a very vivid dream that I can still recall to this day. I dreamt I had been out after dark and was driving home up Bingamon. I was driving the little car my parents gave me, and started up the holler. A little ways up, I saw what can only be described as demons on either side of the road. They were grabbing at my car and clawing at it. I just kept driving by them as fast as I could. The further up the holler I got, the more there were of them and they began chasing my car. I just kept thinking that if I could get to my house and up the hill that I would be safe. So I just kept driving and praying. I got to the driveway and up the hill and at the top I was getting out to run inside and be safe with my parents. I went to grab something out of the trunk and the demons were inside there too. I just ran toward the door of the house, but woke up before I could get there.
My parents also gave me some spending money if I would go over once a week and clean the church that my Daddy preached in. It was just across the driveway from the house. I also played piano and organ, and would have to go over there and practice. I usually had to go by myself. I hated being in the building by myself. There always seemed to be someone in there with me. This is the same church building where I had witnessed demons being cast out of a man. I would practice or clean and try to do it all as fast as I could because I always felt someone was watching over my shoulder. I was never alone.
About this time I started what I still call my "snake dream". To this day, if I dream about snakes, within a week or two, someone in my life does something to hurt me in some way. This has happened to me so many times I have lost count. There is one exception to this dream. If I dream about snakes, and somehow I kill the snake or someone kills it for me, then something happens but I am not hurt. When I have this dream, it is like waiting for the other shoe to drop. Just waiting for who is going to hurt me when...
I moved out of state for a while and lived in AZ and CO. I never really had any experiences in AZ, but then again, I was in pure self-preservation mode, so I probably wouldn't have recognized an experience if I had one. When I moved to a ranch in the high country of CO, my ex-husband and I were the only ones on the ranch and probably for miles. It was beautiful, lonely, haunting...Life was great there, but I absolutely could NOT go up into the loft of the big shed to get anything that was in storage. It could be the brightest, sunniest, happiest day, and I would start up those steps, and it was like something black was pushing down on me. Pushing against me going up there. I HAD to go, and would get up there and it was like being short of breath. Like someone was forcing the breath out of me. Maybe I was holding my breath too while I was up there. I have this habit of "forgetting" to breathe. I concentrate so hard on what I am doing that I slow my breathing WAY down. I never heard of any negative history on the ranch, but it had been an active ranch for over a hundred years and many of the buildings were original, so who knows for sure.
In the winter, we moved into town and into the cutest little two-story house you ever saw. Since it was just the two of us - and we had a huge water bed, we decided to keep the bedroom downstairs and use the huge room upstairs for storage. The big room upstairs was beautiful with big windows and LOTs of light and sunshine. It would have been a great studio to work on my sewing, but I couldn't stay up there for more than a minute. The upstairs was separated by a door with a large glass window from the downstairs. And when you openedthat door, you felt like you were going to your own execution. Sometimes I would have this undeniable urge to watch thru the window in that door - viewable from our couch - like I was going to get a glimpse of the "male" that was up there. I never saw anything, but if you can imagine what it would feel like to be kidnapped and hidden away and knowing you were done for, that was the feeling you got when you opened that door and started up those steps. There were little cubbies under the eaves in that room too, and we never used them b/c I just could not open them up. I felt like if I opened them up, I was going to find a body in there. I didn't look into the history of the house, because at the time, I didn't know much about how to do that.
After a while, I moved back here and my ex-husband and I lived in the church building. Daddy had retired and converted the church into a house. It was a beautiful home, but I had problems with the bedroom closet and the pantry. Everytime I went to open the door of the closet or pantry, I had a flash vision of a headless and legless torso hanging in there. When I went into the pantry - it was big and walk-in, I couldn't be in there for very long. I knew where everything was exactly so I could just grab and go. This is the same building where I had seen the demons cast out of that man.
My parents also gave me some spending money if I would go over once a week and clean the church that my Daddy preached in. It was just across the driveway from the house. I also played piano and organ, and would have to go over there and practice. I usually had to go by myself. I hated being in the building by myself. There always seemed to be someone in there with me. This is the same church building where I had witnessed demons being cast out of a man. I would practice or clean and try to do it all as fast as I could because I always felt someone was watching over my shoulder. I was never alone.
About this time I started what I still call my "snake dream". To this day, if I dream about snakes, within a week or two, someone in my life does something to hurt me in some way. This has happened to me so many times I have lost count. There is one exception to this dream. If I dream about snakes, and somehow I kill the snake or someone kills it for me, then something happens but I am not hurt. When I have this dream, it is like waiting for the other shoe to drop. Just waiting for who is going to hurt me when...
I moved out of state for a while and lived in AZ and CO. I never really had any experiences in AZ, but then again, I was in pure self-preservation mode, so I probably wouldn't have recognized an experience if I had one. When I moved to a ranch in the high country of CO, my ex-husband and I were the only ones on the ranch and probably for miles. It was beautiful, lonely, haunting...Life was great there, but I absolutely could NOT go up into the loft of the big shed to get anything that was in storage. It could be the brightest, sunniest, happiest day, and I would start up those steps, and it was like something black was pushing down on me. Pushing against me going up there. I HAD to go, and would get up there and it was like being short of breath. Like someone was forcing the breath out of me. Maybe I was holding my breath too while I was up there. I have this habit of "forgetting" to breathe. I concentrate so hard on what I am doing that I slow my breathing WAY down. I never heard of any negative history on the ranch, but it had been an active ranch for over a hundred years and many of the buildings were original, so who knows for sure.
In the winter, we moved into town and into the cutest little two-story house you ever saw. Since it was just the two of us - and we had a huge water bed, we decided to keep the bedroom downstairs and use the huge room upstairs for storage. The big room upstairs was beautiful with big windows and LOTs of light and sunshine. It would have been a great studio to work on my sewing, but I couldn't stay up there for more than a minute. The upstairs was separated by a door with a large glass window from the downstairs. And when you openedthat door, you felt like you were going to your own execution. Sometimes I would have this undeniable urge to watch thru the window in that door - viewable from our couch - like I was going to get a glimpse of the "male" that was up there. I never saw anything, but if you can imagine what it would feel like to be kidnapped and hidden away and knowing you were done for, that was the feeling you got when you opened that door and started up those steps. There were little cubbies under the eaves in that room too, and we never used them b/c I just could not open them up. I felt like if I opened them up, I was going to find a body in there. I didn't look into the history of the house, because at the time, I didn't know much about how to do that.
After a while, I moved back here and my ex-husband and I lived in the church building. Daddy had retired and converted the church into a house. It was a beautiful home, but I had problems with the bedroom closet and the pantry. Everytime I went to open the door of the closet or pantry, I had a flash vision of a headless and legless torso hanging in there. When I went into the pantry - it was big and walk-in, I couldn't be in there for very long. I knew where everything was exactly so I could just grab and go. This is the same building where I had seen the demons cast out of that man.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
How it all started...
When I was born, I was brought home to an old farmhouse on Bingamon Holler. It was a wonderful place and I was blessed with loving, caring parents. We had only two bedrooms, and as my brother - who was 15 at the time - had the one, I slept in my crib in my parents room. The first memory I have is of lying in my crib, trying to go to sleep, and waiting...Waiting for the American Indian chief to come into the room and look down on me in my crib. I remember thinking that he wanted to take me and keep me for himself, and that I held onto the bars of my crib until I fell asleep to keep him from picking me up. He wasn't scary or mean, more curious than anything. But he was big and wore his feathered headdress, and that in itself was different and scary to a baby.
I was moved out of my parents room and into my own room when I was about 3 or 4. Daddy had taken the big room of my brother's and divided it so we could both have a room of our own. I never did sleep well. My Mom always had to come in and hold my hand till I fell asleep and then a few hours later I woud wake up and pace the hall, holding my Tony the Tiger and crying. I didn't know why I was crying, but I couldn't sleep and was uncomfortable and didn't know what to do about it. Finally I would go and get my Mom and she would get me back to sleep again.
Mommy tells me I had an imaginary friend during the time we lived in the farmhouse, but I don't remember her. We traded houses with my brother and his wife when she was pregnant with their first child. Moving didn't help me sleep any better. I was always afraid of the dark and always afraid that I had done something bad. So Mom and I would have all kinds of talks. When we put an addition onto the house, I got a new and bigger room. And Mom broke down and bought me a lamp that hung on the wall above my bed. It burned all night, every night. I always felt like someone was watching me, and developed these little subconscious rituals to ward this off.
Daddy was a preacher, and we visited a lot of "fire and brimstone" church services. I saw demons cast out of a man when I was about 6 years old. My grandmother always had a lot of stories about things she had seen at church, but I was raised very strictly that there is "No such thing as ghosts", except for the Holy Ghost. Mommy started working midnight at a nursing home when I was about 12 and Daddy would get me to go to sleep by telling me stories about his childhood. One night when I was around 13 years old, I was lying in bed, reading my Big Joke Book. I looked up and over the end of my bed by the right corner by my feet up about 7 feet in the air were 3 small, black misty shapes. I was scared to death and closed my eyes, and opened them back up and they were still there. I didn't tell anyone, I just prayed and finally went to sleep. I had a very vivid imagination, and was very sensitive. My feeling always ran deep.
Later, my other grandmother came to live with us and Daddy closed in our big porch and made me a new room. I loved that room. I got to pick out my curtains and carpet. There was just one thing. Something watched me all the time. I kept my curtains shut tight unless it was the middle of the afternoon on a sunny day. When I went to school, Mom would come in and open my curtains and I would come home and close them. I felt constantly watched, scrutinized even the whoe time I was in that room. That was the last room I had until I got married and moved away.
I was moved out of my parents room and into my own room when I was about 3 or 4. Daddy had taken the big room of my brother's and divided it so we could both have a room of our own. I never did sleep well. My Mom always had to come in and hold my hand till I fell asleep and then a few hours later I woud wake up and pace the hall, holding my Tony the Tiger and crying. I didn't know why I was crying, but I couldn't sleep and was uncomfortable and didn't know what to do about it. Finally I would go and get my Mom and she would get me back to sleep again.
Mommy tells me I had an imaginary friend during the time we lived in the farmhouse, but I don't remember her. We traded houses with my brother and his wife when she was pregnant with their first child. Moving didn't help me sleep any better. I was always afraid of the dark and always afraid that I had done something bad. So Mom and I would have all kinds of talks. When we put an addition onto the house, I got a new and bigger room. And Mom broke down and bought me a lamp that hung on the wall above my bed. It burned all night, every night. I always felt like someone was watching me, and developed these little subconscious rituals to ward this off.
Daddy was a preacher, and we visited a lot of "fire and brimstone" church services. I saw demons cast out of a man when I was about 6 years old. My grandmother always had a lot of stories about things she had seen at church, but I was raised very strictly that there is "No such thing as ghosts", except for the Holy Ghost. Mommy started working midnight at a nursing home when I was about 12 and Daddy would get me to go to sleep by telling me stories about his childhood. One night when I was around 13 years old, I was lying in bed, reading my Big Joke Book. I looked up and over the end of my bed by the right corner by my feet up about 7 feet in the air were 3 small, black misty shapes. I was scared to death and closed my eyes, and opened them back up and they were still there. I didn't tell anyone, I just prayed and finally went to sleep. I had a very vivid imagination, and was very sensitive. My feeling always ran deep.
Later, my other grandmother came to live with us and Daddy closed in our big porch and made me a new room. I loved that room. I got to pick out my curtains and carpet. There was just one thing. Something watched me all the time. I kept my curtains shut tight unless it was the middle of the afternoon on a sunny day. When I went to school, Mom would come in and open my curtains and I would come home and close them. I felt constantly watched, scrutinized even the whoe time I was in that room. That was the last room I had until I got married and moved away.
Monday, July 26, 2010
What's up with the missing keys??
Ok, so about 2 to 3 weeks ago I lost my set of keys. A cute keychain from OC, MD that said "Don't bother me, I'm crabby" (those of you who know me, please keep your comments to yourself). It had my house keys, Mom's house keys, the car keys, basement key, shed key on it , and my library pass. I have looked everywhere for these keys. All over the house, in the car, in the truck, in the shed, in the basement/garage, at Mom's house, at the dr's office, etc, etc... I have went over the key rack by the door at least 5 times. NO KEYS! It's just annoying. I am really starting to question my mental faculties.
This morning I am getting ready to meet some friends for a dr appointment, and I am in the back bathroom fixing my hair. I hear this really loud crash and come running out to see what is going on. Nothing is amiss or out of place. So I go back and finish what I am doing. I am ready to walk out the door and I am reaching for the good set of car keys so I can go. When what catches my eye...three of my keys are hanging on the key rack. Nothing else is back, just these three keys. The car keys are on thier little ring, and the garage/basement key is on it's little ring, both of which had been attached to my key ring. Nothing else, No cute key fob, no other house key, no shed key, no library pass, nothing else but these three keys. Hanging right out in front on the third hook over from the left.
I am thinking how weird this is. So I call Chris, he is non-plussed, but listens and then tells me to check under the washer and dryer. Nothing there but a neatly folded $5 bill. Also a little weird. So I call Mom and leave a message on her answering machine. I talked to her later today and she finds this also really weird. Now, I lost all these connected together in one grouping of keys. Logic says that I should find them all connected together in one grouping of keys. So, any ideas?? I am accepting that this is the next in a long line of unusual things that have happened to me over my lifetime. I have come to accept these things and they don't scare me anymore, but more like leave me really curious as to what/how these things happen.
This morning I am getting ready to meet some friends for a dr appointment, and I am in the back bathroom fixing my hair. I hear this really loud crash and come running out to see what is going on. Nothing is amiss or out of place. So I go back and finish what I am doing. I am ready to walk out the door and I am reaching for the good set of car keys so I can go. When what catches my eye...three of my keys are hanging on the key rack. Nothing else is back, just these three keys. The car keys are on thier little ring, and the garage/basement key is on it's little ring, both of which had been attached to my key ring. Nothing else, No cute key fob, no other house key, no shed key, no library pass, nothing else but these three keys. Hanging right out in front on the third hook over from the left.
I am thinking how weird this is. So I call Chris, he is non-plussed, but listens and then tells me to check under the washer and dryer. Nothing there but a neatly folded $5 bill. Also a little weird. So I call Mom and leave a message on her answering machine. I talked to her later today and she finds this also really weird. Now, I lost all these connected together in one grouping of keys. Logic says that I should find them all connected together in one grouping of keys. So, any ideas?? I am accepting that this is the next in a long line of unusual things that have happened to me over my lifetime. I have come to accept these things and they don't scare me anymore, but more like leave me really curious as to what/how these things happen.
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