...What I don’t like are the unexpected and unwanted and intrusions. A little story:

I was about 17, I think, and was driving around with my longtime girlfriend and confidant. We shared everything with one another. She suggested we drive by a house where her mother worked and kill time there just looking around. It was one of the oldest houses in our area dating back to the late 1700s and had been refurbished into a museum. Her mother had told stories of opening the house in the mornings to find all the furniture rearranged as well as seeing the sudden imprint on a mattress of someone sitting or lying down or the rocking chair would start by itself. Weird stuff.

We got out and wandered around the place a bit. I noticed one corner of the house having more ... energy, I guess and kept returning to it to test my senses. Each time it was same. A window on this corner caught my attention. WHAM!
Without looking at her I said “Get in the car”. That’s the last I remember of my conversation with my girlfriend. For about the next 10 minutes I was busy having an argument that continually grew in intensity. “Wait! Come back! Please come back!”
“I don’t want this ! No! Leave me alone!”
“Please! Come back!”
“Come back NOW!” more forcefully.
“Go away! Stop following me!”
“Stop NOW!”
I had to find a sanctuary. It was following me. It would not let go!
There! Now! I’ve got to get there.
“No! Please! Don’t!”
I had a sensation of throwing a force from me, feeling it leave my body. Then nothing.

I opened my eyes, laying in a heap in the parking lot of a nearby church. My girlfriend was beside me and had been crying profusely. But I felt and heard nothing more. I was relaxed. Actually more drained than relaxed. I couldn’t recall how we got to the parking lot or why I was on the ground. Once she had calmed down, my girlfriend had an interesting story.

After I had told her to get in the car, she said I sort of checked out. I no longer responded to her or her questions. It was like I wasn’t really there with her. I had driven like a bat out of hell through a large residential area muttering, sometimes screaming, sometimes pleading but definitely in panic to escape something. My driving speed scared the ... bijibbies out of her as well. She said it was quite an argument I was having. Only she could only hear me. I had eventually stopped the car in the church parking lot and leapt out, leaving the engine still running, stretched my arms skyward and screamed! A scream that came from the depths of me. Then I collapsed.

This is what I mean when I say I don’t like the s$&t. Risking my life and well being is one thing. But I could have seriously injured, if not killed, my girlfriend while lost in this... trance, I guess you’d call it. I’d experienced this before but never this extreme. It had been fun. But now... Its hard enough dealing with the contact and the memory thereafter without involving the innocent and having almost seriously hurt someone else. Never again.

I know the sensations. I know how to recognize what precludes these events. And I block them. I ignore them. Friend or foe, all of them. If you acknowledge they are there, some see it as power. The more attention they receive, the more powerful they become. And the more daring.

As far as getting in touch with deceased family members, I think I’ll pass. They know where to find me if they need something. I would like to think my dad is enjoying himself immensely and I’ll just wait till he gets a chance to say hi between parties. But there’s nothing worse than getting a call from home during a really great party just so they can say hi and check up on you. Ruins the whole atmosphere ; )

So. Change of subject. I was a boy scout, too. I was the one caught by the Scoutmaster with Playboy centerfolds taped inside my tent. Not cool. And I ruined my new cooking set trying to make those stupid Smores. You know, melted chocolate and marshmallows sandwiched between graham crackers. THAT was an ungodly mess.

take care!
tla

"I do not claim to be an expert.  If I say anything intelligent, it was by pure luck."  thelostamerican@helloghost.com