Category Archives: sleep

RE: Alien Abduction Help, Sleep will you ever come peacefully?

Alien Abduction Help Group Email Question/Response

On Jan 5, 9:55 pm, “J.Jay” wrote:

> So since my new years even, I havent really had but one peaceful
> nights sleep and thats because i stayed at my mothers. I find i sleep
> better when loved ones are near. But since im alone a lot this fear is
> real hard to overcome. I am always happy until about 8 pm when all
> fear is cut loose. My room is a scary habitat now and i fear the
> visits are just waiting. Ive tried yelling, being strong, but once i
> lay down i loose it. This whomps. I think they are going to tear me
> to bits mentally. Now im so tired it feels like im dreaming all day.
> Like im going to astral project right in my car on the way to work.
> My body feels heavy and my spirit is still awake. Even as i type my
> arms are rested on the desk and they dont feel a part of me and i keep
> seeing stuff in the parriferals of my eye. I need help. I know there
> is only so much you can do so many miles away but please. Im trying
> real hard not to commit myself to institute..LOL.

I know the feeling. Since I was around 8 years old, I’ve had serious difficulty sleeping. Like you mentioned in your case, I can only sleep when with loved ones, but as I’m alone and rarely see anyone (due to a more recent onset of agoraphobia) sleep has become even more fleeting in recent years.

That I sleep on the floor and that I sleep in the day time, refusing to sleep on a bed or during the dark, and that I can not be alone at night or that I keep every light in the house on at night, is a thing that has troubled nearly every one who’s ever known me. I was around 8 when it started, and it grew worse as I got older. For nearly 30 years, I’ve stayed awake nights, and would go 4 or 5 days at a time refusing to sleep at all day or night, finally sleeping only when surrounded by my dogs and dozens of cats. What little sleep I do get is plagued with nightmares and while I doze off for a few hours once every few days, rest and relaxation is something I have never had at all, not once in more than 30 years.

There have only been a few times in my life that I have been able to sleep and get any rest out of it, oddly one of those periods was while I was homeless and living under a tarp for a year (in 2006 after a flood wiped out our home and left one family member in a coma). Sleeping on the back seat of the old dead car sitting in my garden is one such place. Sleeping in the hay on the floor of the barn with my dog and cats gathered around me is another place, and results in my often sleeping in the barn with the animals during the day, because I feel safe with all the animals with me (I live on a farm btw.). Sleeping on the floor or on the couch at my high priest’s house (in spite of the fact that the living room is wall, ceiling, and floor white – white rooms being an extreme major phobia for me) is the only other place, and is also the only white room I have ever been able to set foot in. The car, the barn, the tent-tarp-thing, and my high priest’s house are the only places of safety and peaceful nightmareless sleep for me.

An alien abduction researcher (who suggests alien abduction may be the cause of my nightmares) has suggested that my nightmares may hold a clue about events I may have forgotten and suggested that since I’ve said I have been plagued with nightmares for 30 years, that I write down my nightmares in hopes of finding the source that is causing them. I’ve spent 30 years ignoring my nightmares, trying to avoid talking about them, and trying to forget them. But, maybe he’s right, maybe writing them down will help, and so, I wrote them down and here they are: (I don’t know if me telling you any of this will help you out, but it may help me out some, just having some one to talk to about it, because I don’t have any one I can talk with face to face about it.)

The Green Monster:

One of my very first memories was waking up and seeing a green “creature” over my crib. I was terrified and screamed for hours. I can’t remember the incident that much, only that there was the green wrinkled up “monster” staring down at me. My parents insisted it was a nightmare, that there was nothing in the room, but I did not, and still do not believe their answer for this event. The creature I saw was very real, and I was very much awake when I saw it. It shook me up so bad that my parents had to move my room to the other side of the house (this room was on the front wall by the street, and my new room was on the back wall by the forest). I must have been about 3 years old. I started sleeping on the floor refusing to sleep in the crib again. (Thirty years later, and I still sleep on the floor, I’ve never been able to get into a bed since than.) I was about 8 or 9 years old before I would go back into that room, and I was in my mid-20′s before I was ever able to go to that side of the room where my crib had sat.

Snakes, Eels, and The Haunted Car
How Etiole changed the endings of some of the worst nightmares. . .(Etiole btw: http://www.squidoo.com/amphibious-aliens is the creature-being-alien-whatever that I’ve had contact with for many years now. I don’t know what he is, but people I’ve told about him, seem to think he’s an alien gray hybrid of some sort.)

I have always been plagued with nightmares, for as long as I could remember, I have slept during the day to avoid sleeping in the dark. My worst nightmares are always of hospitals, doctors, white rooms, public bathrooms, and toilets; my phobia of doctors is so terrible that I have only ever been to a doctor 4 times since I was 8 years old; since I was 8 years I’ve had terrible memories as well as nightmares about painful geynacological exams, at first I told my parents but they said it was my imagination, so I stopped telling them about it, but it never stopped and I still have nightmares like this on a regular weekly basis; these nightmares have resulted in my extreme phobic inability to be near doctors and a manic phobia of white rooms.

I’d also like to point out something: The nightmares, the hospital and doctor memories, those are very separate memories than my encounters with this “man” Etiole. While those memories are terrifying, my encounters with him are not, nor have I ever had reason to fear him. He is different from the memories and nightmares. Also, a large majority of my encounters with him, happen during the day while I’m awake. I don’t recall very many nighttime or sleeping encounters with him prior to my mid-20′s. He was more of a childhood companion than anything else.

I will tell you of one of these dreams, because this is one that has haunted my memories for 30 years. And has been one of the events that would have a very profound effect on how other people saw me. I have another reocurring dream about a giant snake – unrealisticly huge, like 300 or 400 feet long, big enough to cover several acres of our farmyard, it always shows up just beyound the edge of the woods where I first saw Etiole. I have not had this dream since my childhood, but back than I had it often. I would be walking towards the woods and suddenly this giant snake would apear and it would start eating everything in site – trees, animals, houses, and than it would come after me. Next thing I knew I was falling for miles and miles down an endless black pit of nothingness. I’d wake up screaming and my eyes would take a while to focus, so I’d be trying to sit up, but everything was black and I couldn’t see where I was and I’d fall out of bed (if I was in bed). (I have not used a bed at all since I was 8 years old, so I was quite young when this reoccuring dream occurred).

There were a few occasions when this dream ended differantly. In each case of the “alternate ending” I had fallen asleep on the back seat of our family car (the 1964 Dodge 330, which I still have 30 years later, and this is why I still have it) during one of our weekly road trips across New England. There was just the 3 of us – my mom and dad in front talking about the scenes and the foliage and stopping to take pictures and me in the back seat. These weekly road trips took place between 1976 – 1985 (or from the time I was 2 until I was 10). There were just so many times a small easily bored kid like me could look out the window at trees and so I often took naps on the back seat of the car. The dream would start as before, the big snake, me falling and falling, and than, instead of me waking up screaming – I’d look down into the pit and I’d see that it had turned into a salt marsh with tall grass and cool water and the water was filled with big green moray eels (NOTE: while snakes terrified me, eels did not, eels are in fact my favorite of all animals and the sight of the eels was a sign of comfort, not a sign of fear). Instead of falling forever into blackness, I would fall into the salt marsh and be surrounded by the eels, which wrapped around me to protect me from the giant snake. Than I would wake up. And this is when things get “strange” and usualy I do not tell people the rest. When I wake up, I look up at the roof of the car and see instead Etiole looking down at me, I wake up in his arms and I would spend the rest of the road trip chattering away talking with him. I did not find out until many years later that my parents never saw him and thought I was talking to “an imaginary friend”.

This was only one of the many ways in which I had encountered Etiole, but this was amoung my earliest memories of him, and would be the memories that caused me to associate him with eels, as well as how I came to view eels as symbols of love and comfort, how eels became my favorite animals, how I learned early on that I could trust Etiole, how Etiole came to become my closest friend as the years went by, and how I came to fight so hard to keep that car each time my parents tried to sell it, and how later, locals got started saying the car was “demon possessed”.

The car died and became a garden ornament and garden bench, when I was 9 years old, it still today sits in my garden, 30 years later. It all of my life, that car remains the once place I have ever felt safe.

The Children That Never Were

When I was 17, my dreams changed, no longer were they of monsters, black holes, and snakes, but now the dreams of babies and children took over, growing progressively worse as each year passed. But before the dreams, was a strange change in my health:

When I was 17 I started having problems with my period; the first thing that happened was it stopped all together and was gone for 2 almost 3 months, during this time I had symptoms of being pregnant; I became convinced that I was pregnant, and this terrified me because I had never had sex and I could not understand why I had these symptoms; than about 3 months after they started, they stopped, but that’s when my other problems started. Before this incident my period lasted 5 or 6 day out of every 28 or so. Now it became heavy and erratic, lasting 10 or 12 days and stopping only for 4 or 5 days before starting up again; the cramps became crippling and I spent much of my days bedridden; When I was 27 I was diagnosed with PMDD and told that I had cysts in my ovaries and that my problems in this area were such that I would most likely never have children. There’s actually a lot more details and symptoms, including that these “phantom pregnancies” have happened five times now and each has ended with a horribly painful and bloody miscarriages – or rather with me waking up at night in a pool of blood, no longer pregnant, but there also being no baby or remains of a baby, just lots of blood all over my floor, but I won’t go into all that here.

I’m still a virgin btw way, my religious beliefs do not allow for sex outside of marriage and I have never married (largely due to the fact that once guys find out about my “contactee info” they freak out and will have nothing to ddo with me because they think I’m [quote]* psychotic*[unquote]. I do feel very strongly that I was pregnant before, which I’ve always found terribly puzzling and can not explain it, but it’s just this unnerving sensation or feeling telling me that I was. I don’t understand why I feel it, but I do.

Since than, I have been plagued with nightmares about having children and than “losing” them. Rare dreams of pregnancies and child births, dream from which I awake in crippling pain, bleeding for days sometimes weeks afterwards, and often spend weeks on end bedridden with terrible high fevers and horrendous stomach cramps, and giant bruises on my arms, legs, and stomach. They are dreams that manifest themselves with very real medical after affects, which has caused me to suspect them of being far more than mere dreams. One does not wake up from a dream suffering medical symptoms like the ones I had. The last of these series of “pregnancy dreams” and it’s painful, bloody after symptoms took place from September of 2006 till November 2006, as usual, the dreams themselves lasting 3 months, followed by several months of pain and illness.

Early on, in my late teens and early 20′s the nightmares were of pregnancies and babies and snakes and dragons. Later on, in my mid 20′s through present time in my mid 30′s the dreams again changed the babies have become children, some now in their teen years, and now in the dreams, I’ll be running through a store or running down the street (as though I was chasing a kidnapper who had just grabbed them away from me) screaming and looking for them, but than I remember I don’t have any children and wonder why I was looking for them. The dreams always have me as the mother of 5 children, 4 who lived and one that died in infancy.

The dreams are so real and terrifying. When I wake up, I jump up and start looking for my children just like I was doing in the dream, I’ll be thinking a kidnapper came in and took them and I have to find them. Than a few seconds later it dawns on me: I am a single virgin and have never had any children, why am I looking for children that I never had to begin with?

The Children in the Barn

In one reoccuring dream I am in the barn (I grew up on a farm, the barn was torn down in 2001, but my dreams have never reflected this and are like it is still there.) and I am looking everywhere for something, and than I “remember” it’s in the attic (NOTE: The real barn was a single story building, there was no attic or hay loft or any sort of upper level in it), so I climb this set of stairs to the attic, but when I open the door, it’s not an attic on the otherside, it’s like a huge mall – one of those types with 100 stores under one roof – only it’s strange looking, everything is like it’s made out of silver and covered in giant gemstones or colored crystals, and there are all these little children running around, but they look strange or at least I think to myself the look strange but I can never rember what it is that they look like, I just remember that they are there, and they are scurring around like mice, but when I try to remember what they look like all I can see if the greyish foggy blur and I can’t make anything out at all. But I remember every time I get up there, I start thinking “Why are these children all alone? Where are their parents?” and than I’ll start walking towards them to ask them why they are alone, but at that point I always wake up. The dream is always differant – like I go to a different room each time or I get to the “attic” by means other than stairs, or sometimes they children will not be there and I’ll think they are supposed to be there so I’ll try looking for them to find out why they are not there. It’s always the same dream, but at the same time it’s never the same dream.

The Children at My Grandmother’s House

I have another reocurring dream about my grandmother’s house (on Graeme Street in Biddeford, Maine which burned down in the late 1980′s, and I started having the dream AFTER the house burt down.) Her house was a house multi level Victorian with giant rooms and lots of nooks and crannies and “secret rooms” (like tiny cloests between rooms, etc). I loved that house and as a child much of my days were spent exploring it, there was a huge screened in veranda on the front, it had a huge stone “cave” basment which I was terrified of and only was in once, and I never went upstairs because the upstairs room were rented out to tenants. The entire building was boxed in by tall boxwood bushes that had been left to run wild and towdered about 10 feet tall. I was about 10 or 12 years old when it burned down. I must have been in my late teens or early 20′s when the dreams started.

In the dreams I start out in the road out front of the house, and there is an accident or something, and a boy is being rolled away on an ambulance stretcher, but they are going past the ambulance and they are running. I start running after them. Somehow my mind is telling me that the boy is my son and they are stealing him away. The road goes down a hill, and they disapear over the horizon of the hill, but when I get to the top of the hill they are no where to be seen and I don’t know which way they went or how to find them.

The next thing I know I’m back infront of my grandmother’s house and I’m “trapped” by the huge boxwood which is now wilder and bigger than ever, I run through the bushes, as though I’m trying to escapoe from them, and I get into the veranda, but the door is locked, so I’m pounding on the bedroom window telling Grammy to hurry and open the door, than some how I’m in the front hallway and the stairs going to the basment are not there, and it’s all open like this big pit, so I run past it to the side parlor door and I hide in the cathedral ceiling living room, but when I get in there it’s a mess – papers are scattered every where, furniture is tipped over, and I start going through the house and it all like that. I can’t find Grammy anywhere, and every room in the house looks like a tornado went through it. When I reach her bedroom, I find the bed surrounded by big armoire closet/cabinets (which she did not have in real life) and all sorts of really strange looking ceramics (vases and such). I start looking at those but there is a noise in the closet (one of the ones with a secret room behind it), so I open the cloest to find out what’s in there, and than I wake up.

This dream is pretty much exactly the same every time I have it.

The Twighlight Manor – The Nightmares That Inspired The Book

I have another dream that comes regular for years and years bout a huge house with hundreds of rooms. (This house is the same house which I would eventually start referring to as “The Twighlight Manor” and is how I came to start writing the Twighlight Manor Books -a series of short stories and chapbooks I wrote in the 1970′s and 1980′s – they started out as the house that plagued my dreams each night.) This dream changes every time and is never the same, but it is always in the same place – a huge mansion with hundreds and hundreds of rooms, it’s like every time I have this dream the house has more rooms than it did before.

Sometimes the dream starts out with me in a car, I’m with some people, sometimes it’s a real estate agent, sometimes it’s just some randon strangers, in any case it is never people I know. We are driving along the coast line and we are looking for a house. We know we are getting closer, we can see it on a hill in the distance, but we never seem to be about to get closer to it no matter how far we drive. Usually, I’m either trying to buy the house or I’m showing it to someone and asking them if they know who owns it because I want to buy it. When the dream starts out like this, I never seem to be able to get to the house and trying to reach it is the whole point of the dream.

Other times the dream will start and I’m just getting to the house, but as soon as I open the front door, the whole thing tumbles to the ground like a house made out match sticks. We try going in it, and this big black/African American man shows up. He’s the owner of the house and he’s telling us how wonderful it is, and he taking us through the rooms, but it’s like he’s not real, it’s like he’s a ghost, and he keeps trying to get us to follow him, but we can’t follow him because the house has crumbled and even though he’s walking around the rooms like they are still there, there is nothing there for him to be walking on.

Most often though, the dream starts out with me inside the house. There is this really old butler, who knows me somehow and I seem to have known him for years, and he’ll be telling me something that had happened – like there will be a noise upstairs and he was afraid to check it out so asked me to do it. Usually at some point in the dream I will meet up with some children, usualy 2 girls about 14 years old and wearing very fancy Victorian dresses, usually one is all dressed in red and the other blue. Sometimes it’s a girls and a boy. Sometimes it’s 2 girls and a boy. Sometimes I hear the talking and laughing, but I never actually see them. In any case, in each dream, I always end up heading upstairs and I always end up looking for these children, but they are always running off, I’ll see them running down the hall or around the corner or into a room, but when I catch up to them they are no where to be seen. Like they are playing a game of hide and seek, but I can never find them. It seems like we are always going up, like this house has as many levels as it has rooms. But the higher up we go, the more fallen apart and rickety the whole house becomes.

In a few rare dreams, instead of going upstairs I go downstairs and in the basment I’ll meet a blacksmith who’s always building things in the huge brick oven, and the fire is so big that it make the whole basment (which is ginormouse) look like it’s set ablaze.

These “house dreams” always end with me waking up while I’m still searching for something, but I can never remember what I was searching for.

Well, that’s pretty much the basics of the dreams and why I can’t sleep.

Well, I wish you luck in your search for a peaceful seep filled night – if you find a way to have one, let me know, because I have not gotten more than a few minutes sleep 20 minutes here and 30 minutes there for more than 30 years now. I would desperately enjoy a peaceful night’s sleep for once in my life.

Waiting for Emmett to come.

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>RE: Alien Abduction Help, Sleep will you ever come peacefully?

>
black birdfall leaves centerblack bird

Alien Abduction Help Group Email Question/Response

On Jan 5, 9:55 pm, “J.Jay” wrote:

> So since my new years even, I havent really had but one peaceful
> nights sleep and thats because i stayed at my mothers. I find i sleep
> better when loved ones are near. But since im alone a lot this fear is
> real hard to overcome. I am always happy until about 8 pm when all
> fear is cut loose. My room is a scary habitat now and i fear the
> visits are just waiting. Ive tried yelling, being strong, but once i
> lay down i loose it. This whomps. I think they are going to tear me
> to bits mentally. Now im so tired it feels like im dreaming all day.
> Like im going to astral project right in my car on the way to work.
> My body feels heavy and my spirit is still awake. Even as i type my
> arms are rested on the desk and they dont feel a part of me and i keep
> seeing stuff in the parriferals of my eye. I need help. I know there
> is only so much you can do so many miles away but please. Im trying
> real hard not to commit myself to institute..LOL.

I know the feeling. Since I was around 8 years old, I’ve had serious difficulty sleeping. Like you mentioned in your case, I can only sleep when with loved ones, but as I’m alone and rarely see anyone (due to a more recent onset of agoraphobia) sleep has become even more fleeting in recent years.

That I sleep on the floor and that I sleep in the day time, refusing to sleep on a bed or during the dark, and that I can not be alone at night or that I keep every light in the house on at night, is a thing that has troubled nearly every one who’s ever known me. I was around 8 when it started, and it grew worse as I got older. For nearly 30 years, I’ve stayed awake nights, and would go 4 or 5 days at a time refusing to sleep at all day or night, finally sleeping only when surrounded by my dogs and dozens of cats. What little sleep I do get is plagued with nightmares and while I doze off for a few hours once every few days, rest and relaxation is something I have never had at all, not once in more than 30 years.

There have only been a few times in my life that I have been able to sleep and get any rest out of it, oddly one of those periods was while I was homeless and living under a tarp for a year (in 2006 after a flood wiped out our home and left one family member in a coma). Sleeping on the back seat of the old dead car sitting in my garden is one such place. Sleeping in the hay on the floor of the barn with my dog and cats gathered around me is another place, and results in my often sleeping in the barn with the animals during the day, because I feel safe with all the animals with me (I live on a farm btw.). Sleeping on the floor or on the couch at my high priest’s house (in spite of the fact that the living room is wall, ceiling, and floor white – white rooms being an extreme major phobia for me) is the only other place, and is also the only white room I have ever been able to set foot in. The car, the barn, the tent-tarp-thing, and my high priest’s house are the only places of safety and peaceful nightmareless sleep for me.

An alien abduction researcher (who suggests alien abduction may be the cause of my nightmares) has suggested that my nightmares may hold a clue about events I may have forgotten and suggested that since I’ve said I have been plagued with nightmares for 30 years, that I write down my nightmares in hopes of finding the source that is causing them. I’ve spent 30 years ignoring my nightmares, trying to avoid talking about them, and trying to forget them. But, maybe he’s right, maybe writing them down will help, and so, I wrote them down and here they are: (I don’t know if me telling you any of this will help you out, but it may help me out some, just having some one to talk to about it, because I don’t have any one I can talk with face to face about it.)

The Green Monster:

One of my very first memories was waking up and seeing a green “creature” over my crib. I was terrified and screamed for hours. I can’t remember the incident that much, only that there was the green wrinkled up “monster” staring down at me. My parents insisted it was a nightmare, that there was nothing in the room, but I did not, and still do not believe their answer for this event. The creature I saw was very real, and I was very much awake when I saw it. It shook me up so bad that my parents had to move my room to the other side of the house (this room was on the front wall by the street, and my new room was on the back wall by the forest). I must have been about 3 years old. I started sleeping on the floor refusing to sleep in the crib again. (Thirty years later, and I still sleep on the floor, I’ve never been able to get into a bed since than.) I was about 8 or 9 years old before I would go back into that room, and I was in my mid-20′s before I was ever able to go to that side of the room where my crib had sat.

Snakes, Eels, and The Haunted Car
How Etiole changed the endings of some of the worst nightmares. . .(Etiole btw: http://www.squidoo.com/amphibious-aliens is the creature-being-alien-whatever that I’ve had contact with for many years now. I don’t know what he is, but people I’ve told about him, seem to think he’s an alien gray hybrid of some sort.)

I have always been plagued with nightmares, for as long as I could remember, I have slept during the day to avoid sleeping in the dark. My worst nightmares are always of hospitals, doctors, white rooms, public bathrooms, and toilets; my phobia of doctors is so terrible that I have only ever been to a doctor 4 times since I was 8 years old; since I was 8 years I’ve had terrible memories as well as nightmares about painful geynacological exams, at first I told my parents but they said it was my imagination, so I stopped telling them about it, but it never stopped and I still have nightmares like this on a regular weekly basis; these nightmares have resulted in my extreme phobic inability to be near doctors and a manic phobia of white rooms.

I’d also like to point out something: The nightmares, the hospital and doctor memories, those are very separate memories than my encounters with this “man” Etiole. While those memories are terrifying, my encounters with him are not, nor have I ever had reason to fear him. He is different from the memories and nightmares. Also, a large majority of my encounters with him, happen during the day while I’m awake. I don’t recall very many nighttime or sleeping encounters with him prior to my mid-20′s. He was more of a childhood companion than anything else.

I will tell you of one of these dreams, because this is one that has haunted my memories for 30 years. And has been one of the events that would have a very profound effect on how other people saw me. I have another reocurring dream about a giant snake – unrealisticly huge, like 300 or 400 feet long, big enough to cover several acres of our farmyard, it always shows up just beyound the edge of the woods where I first saw Etiole. I have not had this dream since my childhood, but back than I had it often. I would be walking towards the woods and suddenly this giant snake would apear and it would start eating everything in site – trees, animals, houses, and than it would come after me. Next thing I knew I was falling for miles and miles down an endless black pit of nothingness. I’d wake up screaming and my eyes would take a while to focus, so I’d be trying to sit up, but everything was black and I couldn’t see where I was and I’d fall out of bed (if I was in bed). (I have not used a bed at all since I was 8 years old, so I was quite young when this reoccuring dream occurred).

There were a few occasions when this dream ended differantly. In each case of the “alternate ending” I had fallen asleep on the back seat of our family car (the 1964 Dodge 330, which I still have 30 years later, and this is why I still have it) during one of our weekly road trips across New England. There was just the 3 of us – my mom and dad in front talking about the scenes and the foliage and stopping to take pictures and me in the back seat. These weekly road trips took place between 1976 – 1985 (or from the time I was 2 until I was 10). There were just so many times a small easily bored kid like me could look out the window at trees and so I often took naps on the back seat of the car. The dream would start as before, the big snake, me falling and falling, and than, instead of me waking up screaming – I’d look down into the pit and I’d see that it had turned into a salt marsh with tall grass and cool water and the water was filled with big green moray eels (NOTE: while snakes terrified me, eels did not, eels are in fact my favorite of all animals and the sight of the eels was a sign of comfort, not a sign of fear). Instead of falling forever into blackness, I would fall into the salt marsh and be surrounded by the eels, which wrapped around me to protect me from the giant snake. Than I would wake up. And this is when things get “strange” and usualy I do not tell people the rest. When I wake up, I look up at the roof of the car and see instead Etiole looking down at me, I wake up in his arms and I would spend the rest of the road trip chattering away talking with him. I did not find out until many years later that my parents never saw him and thought I was talking to “an imaginary friend”.

This was only one of the many ways in which I had encountered Etiole, but this was amoung my earliest memories of him, and would be the memories that caused me to associate him with eels, as well as how I came to view eels as symbols of love and comfort, how eels became my favorite animals, how I learned early on that I could trust Etiole, how Etiole came to become my closest friend as the years went by, and how I came to fight so hard to keep that car each time my parents tried to sell it, and how later, locals got started saying the car was “demon possessed”.

The car died and became a garden ornament and garden bench, when I was 9 years old, it still today sits in my garden, 30 years later. It all of my life, that car remains the once place I have ever felt safe.

The Children That Never Were

When I was 17, my dreams changed, no longer were they of monsters, black holes, and snakes, but now the dreams of babies and children took over, growing progressively worse as each year passed. But before the dreams, was a strange change in my health:

When I was 17 I started having problems with my period; the first thing that happened was it stopped all together and was gone for 2 almost 3 months, during this time I had symptoms of being pregnant; I became convinced that I was pregnant, and this terrified me because I had never had sex and I could not understand why I had these symptoms; than about 3 months after they started, they stopped, but that’s when my other problems started. Before this incident my period lasted 5 or 6 day out of every 28 or so. Now it became heavy and erratic, lasting 10 or 12 days and stopping only for 4 or 5 days before starting up again; the cramps became crippling and I spent much of my days bedridden; When I was 27 I was diagnosed with PMDD and told that I had cysts in my ovaries and that my problems in this area were such that I would most likely never have children. There’s actually a lot more details and symptoms, including that these “phantom pregnancies” have happened five times now and each has ended with a horribly painful and bloody miscarriages – or rather with me waking up at night in a pool of blood, no longer pregnant, but there also being no baby or remains of a baby, just lots of blood all over my floor, but I won’t go into all that here.

I’m still a virgin btw way, my religious beliefs do not allow for sex outside of marriage and I have never married (largely due to the fact that once guys find out about my “contactee info” they freak out and will have nothing to ddo with me because they think I’m [quote]* psychotic*[unquote]. I do feel very strongly that I was pregnant before, which I’ve always found terribly puzzling and can not explain it, but it’s just this unnerving sensation or feeling telling me that I was. I don’t understand why I feel it, but I do.

Since than, I have been plagued with nightmares about having children and than “losing” them. Rare dreams of pregnancies and child births, dream from which I awake in crippling pain, bleeding for days sometimes weeks afterwards, and often spend weeks on end bedridden with terrible high fevers and horrendous stomach cramps, and giant bruises on my arms, legs, and stomach. They are dreams that manifest themselves with very real medical after affects, which has caused me to suspect them of being far more than mere dreams. One does not wake up from a dream suffering medical symptoms like the ones I had. The last of these series of “pregnancy dreams” and it’s painful, bloody after symptoms took place from September of 2006 till November 2006, as usual, the dreams themselves lasting 3 months, followed by several months of pain and illness.

Early on, in my late teens and early 20′s the nightmares were of pregnancies and babies and snakes and dragons. Later on, in my mid 20′s through present time in my mid 30′s the dreams again changed the babies have become children, some now in their teen years, and now in the dreams, I’ll be running through a store or running down the street (as though I was chasing a kidnapper who had just grabbed them away from me) screaming and looking for them, but than I remember I don’t have any children and wonder why I was looking for them. The dreams always have me as the mother of 5 children, 4 who lived and one that died in infancy.

The dreams are so real and terrifying. When I wake up, I jump up and start looking for my children just like I was doing in the dream, I’ll be thinking a kidnapper came in and took them and I have to find them. Than a few seconds later it dawns on me: I am a single virgin and have never had any children, why am I looking for children that I never had to begin with?

The Children in the Barn

In one reoccuring dream I am in the barn (I grew up on a farm, the barn was torn down in 2001, but my dreams have never reflected this and are like it is still there.) and I am looking everywhere for something, and than I “remember” it’s in the attic (NOTE: The real barn was a single story building, there was no attic or hay loft or any sort of upper level in it), so I climb this set of stairs to the attic, but when I open the door, it’s not an attic on the otherside, it’s like a huge mall – one of those types with 100 stores under one roof – only it’s strange looking, everything is like it’s made out of silver and covered in giant gemstones or colored crystals, and there are all these little children running around, but they look strange or at least I think to myself the look strange but I can never rember what it is that they look like, I just remember that they are there, and they are scurring around like mice, but when I try to remember what they look like all I can see if the greyish foggy blur and I can’t make anything out at all. But I remember every time I get up there, I start thinking “Why are these children all alone? Where are their parents?” and than I’ll start walking towards them to ask them why they are alone, but at that point I always wake up. The dream is always differant – like I go to a different room each time or I get to the “attic” by means other than stairs, or sometimes they children will not be there and I’ll think they are supposed to be there so I’ll try looking for them to find out why they are not there. It’s always the same dream, but at the same time it’s never the same dream.

The Children at My Grandmother’s House

I have another reocurring dream about my grandmother’s house (on Graeme Street in Biddeford, Maine which burned down in the late 1980′s, and I started having the dream AFTER the house burt down.) Her house was a house multi level Victorian with giant rooms and lots of nooks and crannies and “secret rooms” (like tiny cloests between rooms, etc). I loved that house and as a child much of my days were spent exploring it, there was a huge screened in veranda on the front, it had a huge stone “cave” basment which I was terrified of and only was in once, and I never went upstairs because the upstairs room were rented out to tenants. The entire building was boxed in by tall boxwood bushes that had been left to run wild and towdered about 10 feet tall. I was about 10 or 12 years old when it burned down. I must have been in my late teens or early 20′s when the dreams started.

In the dreams I start out in the road out front of the house, and there is an accident or something, and a boy is being rolled away on an ambulance stretcher, but they are going past the ambulance and they are running. I start running after them. Somehow my mind is telling me that the boy is my son and they are stealing him away. The road goes down a hill, and they disapear over the horizon of the hill, but when I get to the top of the hill they are no where to be seen and I don’t know which way they went or how to find them.

The next thing I know I’m back infront of my grandmother’s house and I’m “trapped” by the huge boxwood which is now wilder and bigger than ever, I run through the bushes, as though I’m trying to escapoe from them, and I get into the veranda, but the door is locked, so I’m pounding on the bedroom window telling Grammy to hurry and open the door, than some how I’m in the front hallway and the stairs going to the basment are not there, and it’s all open like this big pit, so I run past it to the side parlor door and I hide in the cathedral ceiling living room, but when I get in there it’s a mess – papers are scattered every where, furniture is tipped over, and I start going through the house and it all like that. I can’t find Grammy anywhere, and every room in the house looks like a tornado went through it. When I reach her bedroom, I find the bed surrounded by big armoire closet/cabinets (which she did not have in real life) and all sorts of really strange looking ceramics (vases and such). I start looking at those but there is a noise in the closet (one of the ones with a secret room behind it), so I open the cloest to find out what’s in there, and than I wake up.

This dream is pretty much exactly the same every time I have it.

The Twighlight Manor – The Nightmares That Inspired The Book

I have another dream that comes regular for years and years bout a huge house with hundreds of rooms. (This house is the same house which I would eventually start referring to as “The Twighlight Manor” and is how I came to start writing the Twighlight Manor Books -a series of short stories and chapbooks I wrote in the 1970′s and 1980′s – they started out as the house that plagued my dreams each night.) This dream changes every time and is never the same, but it is always in the same place – a huge mansion with hundreds and hundreds of rooms, it’s like every time I have this dream the house has more rooms than it did before.

Sometimes the dream starts out with me in a car, I’m with some people, sometimes it’s a real estate agent, sometimes it’s just some randon strangers, in any case it is never people I know. We are driving along the coast line and we are looking for a house. We know we are getting closer, we can see it on a hill in the distance, but we never seem to be about to get closer to it no matter how far we drive. Usually, I’m either trying to buy the house or I’m showing it to someone and asking them if they know who owns it because I want to buy it. When the dream starts out like this, I never seem to be able to get to the house and trying to reach it is the whole point of the dream.

Other times the dream will start and I’m just getting to the house, but as soon as I open the front door, the whole thing tumbles to the ground like a house made out match sticks. We try going in it, and this big black/African American man shows up. He’s the owner of the house and he’s telling us how wonderful it is, and he taking us through the rooms, but it’s like he’s not real, it’s like he’s a ghost, and he keeps trying to get us to follow him, but we can’t follow him because the house has crumbled and even though he’s walking around the rooms like they are still there, there is nothing there for him to be walking on.

Most often though, the dream starts out with me inside the house. There is this really old butler, who knows me somehow and I seem to have known him for years, and he’ll be telling me something that had happened – like there will be a noise upstairs and he was afraid to check it out so asked me to do it. Usually at some point in the dream I will meet up with some children, usualy 2 girls about 14 years old and wearing very fancy Victorian dresses, usually one is all dressed in red and the other blue. Sometimes it’s a girls and a boy. Sometimes it’s 2 girls and a boy. Sometimes I hear the talking and laughing, but I never actually see them. In any case, in each dream, I always end up heading upstairs and I always end up looking for these children, but they are always running off, I’ll see them running down the hall or around the corner or into a room, but when I catch up to them they are no where to be seen. Like they are playing a game of hide and seek, but I can never find them. It seems like we are always going up, like this house has as many levels as it has rooms. But the higher up we go, the more fallen apart and rickety the whole house becomes.

In a few rare dreams, instead of going upstairs I go downstairs and in the basment I’ll meet a blacksmith who’s always building things in the huge brick oven, and the fire is so big that it make the whole basment (which is ginormouse) look like it’s set ablaze.

These “house dreams” always end with me waking up while I’m still searching for something, but I can never remember what I was searching for.

Well, that’s pretty much the basics of the dreams and why I can’t sleep.

Well, I wish you luck in your search for a peaceful seep filled night – if you find a way to have one, let me know, because I have not gotten more than a few minutes sleep 20 minutes here and 30 minutes there for more than 30 years now. I would desperately enjoy a peaceful night’s sleep for once in my life.

Waiting for Emmett to come.

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RE: Alien Abduction Help, Sleep will you ever come peacefully?

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Alien Abduction Help Group Email Question/Response

On Jan 5, 9:55 pm, “J.Jay” wrote:

> So since my new years even, I havent really had but one peaceful
> nights sleep and thats because i stayed at my mothers. I find i sleep
> better when loved ones are near. But since im alone a lot this fear is
> real hard to overcome. I am always happy until about 8 pm when all
> fear is cut loose. My room is a scary habitat now and i fear the
> visits are just waiting. Ive tried yelling, being strong, but once i
> lay down i loose it. This whomps. I think they are going to tear me
> to bits mentally. Now im so tired it feels like im dreaming all day.
> Like im going to astral project right in my car on the way to work.
> My body feels heavy and my spirit is still awake. Even as i type my
> arms are rested on the desk and they dont feel a part of me and i keep
> seeing stuff in the parriferals of my eye. I need help. I know there
> is only so much you can do so many miles away but please. Im trying
> real hard not to commit myself to institute..LOL.

I know the feeling. Since I was around 8 years old, I’ve had serious difficulty sleeping. Like you mentioned in your case, I can only sleep when with loved ones, but as I’m alone and rarely see anyone (due to a more recent onset of agoraphobia) sleep has become even more fleeting in recent years.

That I sleep on the floor and that I sleep in the day time, refusing to sleep on a bed or during the dark, and that I can not be alone at night or that I keep every light in the house on at night, is a thing that has troubled nearly every one who’s ever known me. I was around 8 when it started, and it grew worse as I got older. For nearly 30 years, I’ve stayed awake nights, and would go 4 or 5 days at a time refusing to sleep at all day or night, finally sleeping only when surrounded by my dogs and dozens of cats. What little sleep I do get is plagued with nightmares and while I doze off for a few hours once every few days, rest and relaxation is something I have never had at all, not once in more than 30 years.

There have only been a few times in my life that I have been able to sleep and get any rest out of it, oddly one of those periods was while I was homeless and living under a tarp for a year (in 2006 after a flood wiped out our home and left one family member in a coma). Sleeping on the back seat of the old dead car sitting in my garden is one such place. Sleeping in the hay on the floor of the barn with my dog and cats gathered around me is another place, and results in my often sleeping in the barn with the animals during the day, because I feel safe with all the animals with me (I live on a farm btw.). Sleeping on the floor or on the couch at my high priest’s house (in spite of the fact that the living room is wall, ceiling, and floor white – white rooms being an extreme major phobia for me) is the only other place, and is also the only white room I have ever been able to set foot in. The car, the barn, the tent-tarp-thing, and my high priest’s house are the only places of safety and peaceful nightmareless sleep for me.

An alien abduction researcher (who suggests alien abduction may be the cause of my nightmares) has suggested that my nightmares may hold a clue about events I may have forgotten and suggested that since I’ve said I have been plagued with nightmares for 30 years, that I write down my nightmares in hopes of finding the source that is causing them. I’ve spent 30 years ignoring my nightmares, trying to avoid talking about them, and trying to forget them. But, maybe he’s right, maybe writing them down will help, and so, I wrote them down and here they are: (I don’t know if me telling you any of this will help you out, but it may help me out some, just having some one to talk to about it, because I don’t have any one I can talk with face to face about it.)

The Green Monster:

One of my very first memories was waking up and seeing a green “creature” over my crib. I was terrified and screamed for hours. I can’t remember the incident that much, only that there was the green wrinkled up “monster” staring down at me. My parents insisted it was a nightmare, that there was nothing in the room, but I did not, and still do not believe their answer for this event. The creature I saw was very real, and I was very much awake when I saw it. It shook me up so bad that my parents had to move my room to the other side of the house (this room was on the front wall by the street, and my new room was on the back wall by the forest). I must have been about 3 years old. I started sleeping on the floor refusing to sleep in the crib again. (Thirty years later, and I still sleep on the floor, I’ve never been able to get into a bed since than.) I was about 8 or 9 years old before I would go back into that room, and I was in my mid-20′s before I was ever able to go to that side of the room where my crib had sat.

Snakes, Eels, and The Haunted Car
How Etiole changed the endings of some of the worst nightmares. . .(Etiole btw: http://www.squidoo.com/amphibious-aliens is the creature-being-alien-whatever that I’ve had contact with for many years now. I don’t know what he is, but people I’ve told about him, seem to think he’s an alien gray hybrid of some sort.)

I have always been plagued with nightmares, for as long as I could remember, I have slept during the day to avoid sleeping in the dark. My worst nightmares are always of hospitals, doctors, white rooms, public bathrooms, and toilets; my phobia of doctors is so terrible that I have only ever been to a doctor 4 times since I was 8 years old; since I was 8 years I’ve had terrible memories as well as nightmares about painful geynacological exams, at first I told my parents but they said it was my imagination, so I stopped telling them about it, but it never stopped and I still have nightmares like this on a regular weekly basis; these nightmares have resulted in my extreme phobic inability to be near doctors and a manic phobia of white rooms.

I’d also like to point out something: The nightmares, the hospital and doctor memories, those are very separate memories than my encounters with this “man” Etiole. While those memories are terrifying, my encounters with him are not, nor have I ever had reason to fear him. He is different from the memories and nightmares. Also, a large majority of my encounters with him, happen during the day while I’m awake. I don’t recall very many nighttime or sleeping encounters with him prior to my mid-20′s. He was more of a childhood companion than anything else.

I will tell you of one of these dreams, because this is one that has haunted my memories for 30 years. And has been one of the events that would have a very profound effect on how other people saw me. I have another reocurring dream about a giant snake – unrealisticly huge, like 300 or 400 feet long, big enough to cover several acres of our farmyard, it always shows up just beyound the edge of the woods where I first saw Etiole. I have not had this dream since my childhood, but back than I had it often. I would be walking towards the woods and suddenly this giant snake would apear and it would start eating everything in site – trees, animals, houses, and than it would come after me. Next thing I knew I was falling for miles and miles down an endless black pit of nothingness. I’d wake up screaming and my eyes would take a while to focus, so I’d be trying to sit up, but everything was black and I couldn’t see where I was and I’d fall out of bed (if I was in bed). (I have not used a bed at all since I was 8 years old, so I was quite young when this reoccuring dream occurred).

There were a few occasions when this dream ended differantly. In each case of the “alternate ending” I had fallen asleep on the back seat of our family car (the 1964 Dodge 330, which I still have 30 years later, and this is why I still have it) during one of our weekly road trips across New England. There was just the 3 of us – my mom and dad in front talking about the scenes and the foliage and stopping to take pictures and me in the back seat. These weekly road trips took place between 1976 – 1985 (or from the time I was 2 until I was 10). There were just so many times a small easily bored kid like me could look out the window at trees and so I often took naps on the back seat of the car. The dream would start as before, the big snake, me falling and falling, and than, instead of me waking up screaming – I’d look down into the pit and I’d see that it had turned into a salt marsh with tall grass and cool water and the water was filled with big green moray eels (NOTE: while snakes terrified me, eels did not, eels are in fact my favorite of all animals and the sight of the eels was a sign of comfort, not a sign of fear). Instead of falling forever into blackness, I would fall into the salt marsh and be surrounded by the eels, which wrapped around me to protect me from the giant snake. Than I would wake up. And this is when things get “strange” and usualy I do not tell people the rest. When I wake up, I look up at the roof of the car and see instead Etiole looking down at me, I wake up in his arms and I would spend the rest of the road trip chattering away talking with him. I did not find out until many years later that my parents never saw him and thought I was talking to “an imaginary friend”.

This was only one of the many ways in which I had encountered Etiole, but this was amoung my earliest memories of him, and would be the memories that caused me to associate him with eels, as well as how I came to view eels as symbols of love and comfort, how eels became my favorite animals, how I learned early on that I could trust Etiole, how Etiole came to become my closest friend as the years went by, and how I came to fight so hard to keep that car each time my parents tried to sell it, and how later, locals got started saying the car was “demon possessed”.

The car died and became a garden ornament and garden bench, when I was 9 years old, it still today sits in my garden, 30 years later. It all of my life, that car remains the once place I have ever felt safe.

The Children That Never Were

When I was 17, my dreams changed, no longer were they of monsters, black holes, and snakes, but now the dreams of babies and children took over, growing progressively worse as each year passed. But before the dreams, was a strange change in my health:

When I was 17 I started having problems with my period; the first thing that happened was it stopped all together and was gone for 2 almost 3 months, during this time I had symptoms of being pregnant; I became convinced that I was pregnant, and this terrified me because I had never had sex and I could not understand why I had these symptoms; than about 3 months after they started, they stopped, but that’s when my other problems started. Before this incident my period lasted 5 or 6 day out of every 28 or so. Now it became heavy and erratic, lasting 10 or 12 days and stopping only for 4 or 5 days before starting up again; the cramps became crippling and I spent much of my days bedridden; When I was 27 I was diagnosed with PMDD and told that I had cysts in my ovaries and that my problems in this area were such that I would most likely never have children. There’s actually a lot more details and symptoms, including that these “phantom pregnancies” have happened five times now and each has ended with a horribly painful and bloody miscarriages – or rather with me waking up at night in a pool of blood, no longer pregnant, but there also being no baby or remains of a baby, just lots of blood all over my floor, but I won’t go into all that here.

I’m still a virgin btw way, my religious beliefs do not allow for sex outside of marriage and I have never married (largely due to the fact that once guys find out about my “contactee info” they freak out and will have nothing to ddo with me because they think I’m [quote]* psychotic*[unquote]. I do feel very strongly that I was pregnant before, which I’ve always found terribly puzzling and can not explain it, but it’s just this unnerving sensation or feeling telling me that I was. I don’t understand why I feel it, but I do.

Since than, I have been plagued with nightmares about having children and than “losing” them. Rare dreams of pregnancies and child births, dream from which I awake in crippling pain, bleeding for days sometimes weeks afterwards, and often spend weeks on end bedridden with terrible high fevers and horrendous stomach cramps, and giant bruises on my arms, legs, and stomach. They are dreams that manifest themselves with very real medical after affects, which has caused me to suspect them of being far more than mere dreams. One does not wake up from a dream suffering medical symptoms like the ones I had. The last of these series of “pregnancy dreams” and it’s painful, bloody after symptoms took place from September of 2006 till November 2006, as usual, the dreams themselves lasting 3 months, followed by several months of pain and illness.

Early on, in my late teens and early 20′s the nightmares were of pregnancies and babies and snakes and dragons. Later on, in my mid 20′s through present time in my mid 30′s the dreams again changed the babies have become children, some now in their teen years, and now in the dreams, I’ll be running through a store or running down the street (as though I was chasing a kidnapper who had just grabbed them away from me) screaming and looking for them, but than I remember I don’t have any children and wonder why I was looking for them. The dreams always have me as the mother of 5 children, 4 who lived and one that died in infancy.

The dreams are so real and terrifying. When I wake up, I jump up and start looking for my children just like I was doing in the dream, I’ll be thinking a kidnapper came in and took them and I have to find them. Than a few seconds later it dawns on me: I am a single virgin and have never had any children, why am I looking for children that I never had to begin with?

The Children in the Barn

In one reoccuring dream I am in the barn (I grew up on a farm, the barn was torn down in 2001, but my dreams have never reflected this and are like it is still there.) and I am looking everywhere for something, and than I “remember” it’s in the attic (NOTE: The real barn was a single story building, there was no attic or hay loft or any sort of upper level in it), so I climb this set of stairs to the attic, but when I open the door, it’s not an attic on the otherside, it’s like a huge mall – one of those types with 100 stores under one roof – only it’s strange looking, everything is like it’s made out of silver and covered in giant gemstones or colored crystals, and there are all these little children running around, but they look strange or at least I think to myself the look strange but I can never rember what it is that they look like, I just remember that they are there, and they are scurring around like mice, but when I try to remember what they look like all I can see if the greyish foggy blur and I can’t make anything out at all. But I remember every time I get up there, I start thinking “Why are these children all alone? Where are their parents?” and than I’ll start walking towards them to ask them why they are alone, but at that point I always wake up. The dream is always differant – like I go to a different room each time or I get to the “attic” by means other than stairs, or sometimes they children will not be there and I’ll think they are supposed to be there so I’ll try looking for them to find out why they are not there. It’s always the same dream, but at the same time it’s never the same dream.

The Children at My Grandmother’s House

I have another reocurring dream about my grandmother’s house (on Graeme Street in Biddeford, Maine which burned down in the late 1980′s, and I started having the dream AFTER the house burt down.) Her house was a house multi level Victorian with giant rooms and lots of nooks and crannies and “secret rooms” (like tiny cloests between rooms, etc). I loved that house and as a child much of my days were spent exploring it, there was a huge screened in veranda on the front, it had a huge stone “cave” basment which I was terrified of and only was in once, and I never went upstairs because the upstairs room were rented out to tenants. The entire building was boxed in by tall boxwood bushes that had been left to run wild and towdered about 10 feet tall. I was about 10 or 12 years old when it burned down. I must have been in my late teens or early 20′s when the dreams started.

In the dreams I start out in the road out front of the house, and there is an accident or something, and a boy is being rolled away on an ambulance stretcher, but they are going past the ambulance and they are running. I start running after them. Somehow my mind is telling me that the boy is my son and they are stealing him away. The road goes down a hill, and they disapear over the horizon of the hill, but when I get to the top of the hill they are no where to be seen and I don’t know which way they went or how to find them.

The next thing I know I’m back infront of my grandmother’s house and I’m “trapped” by the huge boxwood which is now wilder and bigger than ever, I run through the bushes, as though I’m trying to escapoe from them, and I get into the veranda, but the door is locked, so I’m pounding on the bedroom window telling Grammy to hurry and open the door, than some how I’m in the front hallway and the stairs going to the basment are not there, and it’s all open like this big pit, so I run past it to the side parlor door and I hide in the cathedral ceiling living room, but when I get in there it’s a mess – papers are scattered every where, furniture is tipped over, and I start going through the house and it all like that. I can’t find Grammy anywhere, and every room in the house looks like a tornado went through it. When I reach her bedroom, I find the bed surrounded by big armoire closet/cabinets (which she did not have in real life) and all sorts of really strange looking ceramics (vases and such). I start looking at those but there is a noise in the closet (one of the ones with a secret room behind it), so I open the cloest to find out what’s in there, and than I wake up.

This dream is pretty much exactly the same every time I have it.

The Twighlight Manor – The Nightmares That Inspired The Book

I have another dream that comes regular for years and years bout a huge house with hundreds of rooms. (This house is the same house which I would eventually start referring to as “The Twighlight Manor” and is how I came to start writing the Twighlight Manor Books -a series of short stories and chapbooks I wrote in the 1970′s and 1980′s – they started out as the house that plagued my dreams each night.) This dream changes every time and is never the same, but it is always in the same place – a huge mansion with hundreds and hundreds of rooms, it’s like every time I have this dream the house has more rooms than it did before.

Sometimes the dream starts out with me in a car, I’m with some people, sometimes it’s a real estate agent, sometimes it’s just some randon strangers, in any case it is never people I know. We are driving along the coast line and we are looking for a house. We know we are getting closer, we can see it on a hill in the distance, but we never seem to be about to get closer to it no matter how far we drive. Usually, I’m either trying to buy the house or I’m showing it to someone and asking them if they know who owns it because I want to buy it. When the dream starts out like this, I never seem to be able to get to the house and trying to reach it is the whole point of the dream.

Other times the dream will start and I’m just getting to the house, but as soon as I open the front door, the whole thing tumbles to the ground like a house made out match sticks. We try going in it, and this big black/African American man shows up. He’s the owner of the house and he’s telling us how wonderful it is, and he taking us through the rooms, but it’s like he’s not real, it’s like he’s a ghost, and he keeps trying to get us to follow him, but we can’t follow him because the house has crumbled and even though he’s walking around the rooms like they are still there, there is nothing there for him to be walking on.

Most often though, the dream starts out with me inside the house. There is this really old butler, who knows me somehow and I seem to have known him for years, and he’ll be telling me something that had happened – like there will be a noise upstairs and he was afraid to check it out so asked me to do it. Usually at some point in the dream I will meet up with some children, usualy 2 girls about 14 years old and wearing very fancy Victorian dresses, usually one is all dressed in red and the other blue. Sometimes it’s a girls and a boy. Sometimes it’s 2 girls and a boy. Sometimes I hear the talking and laughing, but I never actually see them. In any case, in each dream, I always end up heading upstairs and I always end up looking for these children, but they are always running off, I’ll see them running down the hall or around the corner or into a room, but when I catch up to them they are no where to be seen. Like they are playing a game of hide and seek, but I can never find them. It seems like we are always going up, like this house has as many levels as it has rooms. But the higher up we go, the more fallen apart and rickety the whole house becomes.

In a few rare dreams, instead of going upstairs I go downstairs and in the basment I’ll meet a blacksmith who’s always building things in the huge brick oven, and the fire is so big that it make the whole basment (which is ginormouse) look like it’s set ablaze.

These “house dreams” always end with me waking up while I’m still searching for something, but I can never remember what I was searching for.

Well, that’s pretty much the basics of the dreams and why I can’t sleep.

Well, I wish you luck in your search for a peaceful seep filled night – if you find a way to have one, let me know, because I have not gotten more than a few minutes sleep 20 minutes here and 30 minutes there for more than 30 years now. I would desperately enjoy a peaceful night’s sleep for once in my life.

Waiting for Emmett to come.

http://twitter.com/EelKat
http://www.facebook.com/EelKat
http://eknano.blogspot.com
http://eelkat.wordpress.com
http://www.nanowrimo.org/eng/user/132659
http://www.scriptfrenzy.org/user/132659

Due to the resent rise (yet again) of the demon possession and witchcraft accusations and questions from non church members, asking me what the church members talking about, I have decided to write a book about Etiole, who he is, how I met him, why people started calling me a witch, and what these religion crazed nuts did to me as a result of their unfounded fears of Etiole. This blog will contain the first drafts of it. I’ll be posting them over the next month or so. I’m just plain tired of being called a witch, I’m thinking of renaming this blog to make the accusations, just to spite them. Seeing a UFO and meeting an alien-faerie-angel being DOES NOT MAKE ME A WITCH!!!! Well, anyways, here’s my latest addition into this year’s NaNoWriMo contest, I know I’m supposed to be writing a fiction novel, not a non-fiction autobiography, but whatever, I just need these people to stop accusing me of demon possession and witchcraft and the only way I can see to do that is to tell the world why it is they are saying these things about me, so continueing from where I left on in my last NaNoWriMo post, here is todays NaNoWriMo addition:

Edit February 17, 2009: Parts of this book can now be seen on a Squidoo lens.

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

Thank You Kitty. . .Page copy protected against web site content infringement by Copyscape

black birdOld Orchard Beach Sea Shellsblack bird

————-
If you liked reading this blog and want to read more stuff written by me, I have lots of websites, where you can read other things I write, here are a few of the ones I like the best:
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!.
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!.
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!
.

Blingo

PLEASE . . . . somebody, anybody. . . . PLEASE HELP ME!

black birdfall leaves centerblack bird

They just now, just called again. Again demanding that I come into the the bishop’s office at the church tonight, again demanding that I meet with the Stake President. And again it has triggered a mass panic attack. It’s happening again. JUST LIKE BEFORE. I can’t stop shaking. My chest hurts and my lungs hurt. My hands are shaking so bad I can barely type this. It’s like before. Only, I’m shaking a lot worse, it’s so bad my glasses keep falling off. I can’t stop shaking. I can’t breath.

It’s like before, like a panic attack, only really, really, really bad. Why won’t they leave me alone. I need them to leave me alone. Please make them leave me alone. I don’t know if I can live through many more of these stroke like attacks. I have one every time they call. Please make them stop calling me. Tell them to leave me a lone. Please help me. I can’t stop shaking. My whole body is skaking all over I don’t know what to do.

Please call the church at 607-9517 or 207-666-3481 and tell them to leave me alone (I find the 666 in their # ironic) Ask for Robert Taylor. He is the counselor in charge of handling phone calls to the Stake Presadent of the Augusta Maine Stake.

You can read more about this 31 year on going harassment at the following links:

Excommunication for publishing my 2008 NaNoWriMo Book – Update

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HELP! Any doctors out there? Medical advice?

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Health UPDATE – Stroke caused by panic attack triggered by LDS Church excommunication threats :(

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Still Planning on Doing NaNoWriMo this year in spite of recent health issues

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Eleven Days Til NaNoWriMo and Stroke Update

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My Aliens vs Your Demons – Yep – If I’m Crazy, What Are You???????

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Excommunication – 2008 NaNoWriMo book banned – Update – My Inbox if overloading – a mass reply going here

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REPOST: For Fear of Little Men: First Draft of my autobiography book to be published in 2010+/-

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Note – I have not been to the LDS/Mormon church in 13 years, and yet, they continue to harass me on an almost daily basis. :(

In 2004 I started writing “Faith Not Religion”, my infamous 900 page rant on why I left the Mormon church. It was during the two years where I just sat there doing nothing but writing that book that I finally realized for the first time in my life that I WASN’T evil, like so many bishop kept telling me! I wasn’t demon possessed, like so many bishop kept telling me . What I was, was a victim of 27 years of mental and emotional abuse at the hands of a bunch of crazy tyrants. While writing “Faith Not Religion” I learned quite a bit about myself. Among them I learned:
I’m tired of being told I’m a witch.
I’m tired of being told I’m evil.
I’m tired of being told I do the things I do because I’m possessed by a demon.
I’m tired of being told I’m going to hell.
I’m tired of being told I’m inferior because I’m a lowly female.
I’m tired of being told not to talk because that’s reserved for men.
I’m just plain tired of BEING TOLD.
Every one talks to me, no one ever talks with me.
I want freedom from BEING TOLD.
I wish, that there was someone who would actually treat me like I was a person. Like I was important. Like I mattered.
I’m tired of being harassed by these people.
I’m tired of it.
Putting up with the abuse all those years was killing me.
Them killing my pets was an evil act.
Them paintballing my car was an evil act.
Them throwing rocks at and blinding my horse, was an evil act.
Them burning my drawings in the woodstove was and evil act.
Them burning my manuscripts in the wood stove was an evil act.
Them saying I was evil was an evil act.
They were the ones who were evil, not me.
Not being allowed to get a job because I was a female, was an evil thing for them to do to me.
Them smashing my Liberace` records was an evil act.
Them stealing parts off of my car and leaving it in ruins was an evil act.
Them setting fire to my home and leaving me homeless was an evil act.

Please put an end to this before they cause my death. I don’t think I can live through another stroke. PLEASE HELP ME!. Please call the church at 607-9517 or 207-666-3481 and tell them to leave me alone (I find the 666 in their # ironic) Ask for Robert Taylor. He is the counselor in charge of handling phone calls to the Stake Presadent of the Augusta Maine Stake. Please. call him. PLEASE! Why won’t they leave me alone. I need them to leave me alone. Please make them leave me alone. I don’t know if I can live through many more of these stroke like attacks. I have one every time they call. Please make them stop calling me. Tell them to leave me a lone. Please help me. I can’t stop shaking. My whole body is shaking all over I don’t know what to do. Please some one help me.

Waiting for Emmett to come.

http://twitter.com/EelKat
http://www.facebook.com/EelKat
http://eknano.blogspot.com

Categories: About me · Biddeford · LDS · Life · Lifestyle · Maine · Maineland · Mormons · Mourning · Old Orchard · Old Orchard Beach · On the Beach · Persecution · Saints · The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints · Town of Old Orchard · Wendy C. Allen · York county · advice · authors helpers · book cencorship · boycotts · harasement · harasment · harassment · help · homeless · homelessness · human rights · laws · legal issues · legal issuses · life blogging · life on the streets · logic · make America the land of the free again · mean people · medical · medical advice · my thoughts on… · news · oob · pain · people · politics · poverty · random thoughts · real life · religion · religious leaders · religon · sleep · stolen items · stress · stroke · tent · terrorists · thieves · threats · world peace · writer · writer’s rights · writer’s voice · writing · writing lessons

Tagged: authors, Biddeford, book cencorship, church corruption, church leaders, evil, Family, For Fear of Little Men, harassment, Life, life blogging, Maine, my thoughts on…, Old Orchard Beach, religion, religious leaders, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, Wendy C. Allen, Writing Life, York county

Why are some people so mean?

Why are some people so mean?

Actually, I think sleep has a lot to do with it. Think about it, a mother has to get up at 6 to cook breakfast, get the kids up and dressed, drive them to school, make sure husband is up in time to get to work, get ready for work, drive to work, deal with fellow workers and costumers. Slave at work so long that the kids are forced to get a ride or take the bus home, so she misses out on hearing the news of the day (which by the time she gets home the kids have told someone else so see no need to tell her).

Than when she does get home her husband expects her to wash the laundry, vacuum the floors, pick up his work cloths which he threw on the floor because he was in a hurry to turn on the tv and watch some stupid game while getting drunk, than complains if it’s past 6 o’clock and she hasn’t cooked supper yet. Than his parents drop by at 9 o’clock and refuse to leave, she doesn’t get to bed till midnight, and she had no time to rest no time to take a break, and she’s barely asleep before the alarm goes off and the day starts all over again. She’s tired, she lacks sleep, she’s irritated, she’s aching, and she’s ready to snap at the drop of a pin.

Well, that’s just one scenario, but you get the idea, right?

People live hectic busy lives, and have no time for rest and relaxation anymore, and I think that if you go too long in the same old stressed out situations over and over again, with out ever having any time to just stop and rest, you end up getting mean and rude, with out even realizing it.

Of course there are lots of other reasons too, but I think this is the most common one.

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

Thank You Kitty. . .Page copy protected against web site content infringement by Copyscape

————-
If you liked reading this blog and want to read more stuff written by me, I have lots of websites, where you can read other things I write, here are a few of the ones I like the best:
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!.
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!.
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!
.

Blingo

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Why are some people so mean?

black birdOld Orchard Beach Sea Shellsblack bird

Why are some people so mean?

Actually, I think sleep has a lot to do with it. Think about it, a mother has to get up at 6 to cook breakfast, get the kids up and dressed, drive them to school, make sure husband is up in time to get to work, get ready for work, drive to work, deal with fellow workers and costumers. Slave at work so long that the kids are forced to get a ride or take the bus home, so she misses out on hearing the news of the day (which by the time she gets home the kids have told someone else so see no need to tell her).

Than when she does get home her husband expects her to wash the laundry, vacuum the floors, pick up his work cloths which he threw on the floor because he was in a hurry to turn on the tv and watch some stupid game while getting drunk, than complains if it’s past 6 o’clock and she hasn’t cooked supper yet. Than his parents drop by at 9 o’clock and refuse to leave, she doesn’t get to bed till midnight, and she had no time to rest no time to take a break, and she’s barely asleep before the alarm goes off and the day starts all over again. She’s tired, she lacks sleep, she’s irritated, she’s aching, and she’s ready to snap at the drop of a pin.

Well, that’s just one scenario, but you get the idea, right?

People live hectic busy lives, and have no time for rest and relaxation anymore, and I think that if you go too long in the same old stressed out situations over and over again, with out ever having any time to just stop and rest, you end up getting mean and rude, with out even realizing it.

Of course there are lots of other reasons too, but I think this is the most common one.

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

Thank You Kitty. . .Page copy protected against web site content infringement by Copyscape

black birdOld Orchard Beach Sea Shellsblack bird

————-
If you liked reading this blog and want to read more stuff written by me, I have lots of websites, where you can read other things I write, here are a few of the ones I like the best:
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!.
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!.
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!
.

Blingo

<!–
amazon_prw_id = “V20070822/US/spacedock13-20/8100/cb2ec468-f833-4c8e-875f-9c73abbe33ac”; amazon_prw_width = “728″; amazon_prw_height = “90″;//–>

Why are some people so mean?

Why are some people so mean?

Actually, I think sleep has a lot to do with it. Think about it, a mother has to get up at 6 to cook breakfast, get the kids up and dressed, drive them to school, make sure husband is up in time to get to work, get ready for work, drive to work, deal with fellow workers and costumers. Slave at work so long that the kids are forced to get a ride or take the bus home, so she misses out on hearing the news of the day (which by the time she gets home the kids have told someone else so see no need to tell her).

Than when she does get home her husband expects her to wash the laundry, vacuum the floors, pick up his work cloths which he threw on the floor because he was in a hurry to turn on the tv and watch some stupid game while getting drunk, than complains if it’s past 6 o’clock and she hasn’t cooked supper yet. Than his parents drop by at 9 o’clock and refuse to leave, she doesn’t get to bed till midnight, and she had no time to rest no time to take a break, and she’s barely asleep before the alarm goes off and the day starts all over again. She’s tired, she lacks sleep, she’s irritated, she’s aching, and she’s ready to snap at the drop of a pin.

Well, that’s just one scenario, but you get the idea, right?

People live hectic busy lives, and have no time for rest and relaxation anymore, and I think that if you go too long in the same old stressed out situations over and over again, with out ever having any time to just stop and rest, you end up getting mean and rude, with out even realizing it.

Of course there are lots of other reasons too, but I think this is the most common one.

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

If you liked this post, than you might like what I say on my other blog too!

Want to read more? Check out my Squidoo Lenses:

Need To Publish Your First Novel?
Ekography: EelKats Lensography
What Can You Do With Squidoo?
Save the Goldeneagle
Copper Cockeral
EKs Link Exchange Headquarters
Creating Character Profiles
How to Start a Publishing Company
Create Your Own Writers Retreat
Need to Kill Writer’s Block? Kill a Character.
Narration for Writers
Doctor Who Gift & Video Showcase
NaNoWriMo: Reaching 50,000 useing EelKats 13 Step method
Conventional Writing Advice that Didnt Work for Her (or Me Either!)…
Why Was My Manuscript Rejected?
What if you could give a lie detector test to..
Etiole Swanzen
Harlequin books seeks real men for covers
EelKats Birthday Party Lensography
What do you look for in a book?
Accepting Your Writing Style
Whats On Your Toilet?

Page copy protected against web site content infringement by Copyscape

All donations to Star Log go to The Pidgie Fund. The Pidgie Fund buys food for pets in Southern Maine.

Blingo

Why are some people so mean?

Why are some people so mean?

Actually, I think sleep has a lot to do with it. Think about it, a mother has to get up at 6 to cook breakfast, get the kids up and dressed, drive them to school, make sure husband is up in time to get to work, get ready for work, drive to work, deal with fellow workers and costumers. Slave at work so long that the kids are forced to get a ride or take the bus home, so she misses out on hearing the news of the day (which by the time she gets home the kids have told someone else so see no need to tell her).

Than when she does get home her husband expects her to wash the laundry, vacuum the floors, pick up his work cloths which he threw on the floor because he was in a hurry to turn on the tv and watch some stupid game while getting drunk, than complains if it’s past 6 o’clock and she hasn’t cooked supper yet. Than his parents drop by at 9 o’clock and refuse to leave, she doesn’t get to bed till midnight, and she had no time to rest no time to take a break, and she’s barely asleep before the alarm goes off and the day starts all over again. She’s tired, she lacks sleep, she’s irritated, she’s aching, and she’s ready to snap at the drop of a pin.

Well, that’s just one scenario, but you get the idea, right?

People live hectic busy lives, and have no time for rest and relaxation anymore, and I think that if you go too long in the same old stressed out situations over and over again, with out ever having any time to just stop and rest, you end up getting mean and rude, with out even realizing it.

Of course there are lots of other reasons too, but I think this is the most common one.

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

If you liked this post, than you might like what I say on my other blog too!

Want to read more? Check out my Squidoo Lenses:

Need To Publish Your First Novel?
Ekography: EelKats Lensography
What Can You Do With Squidoo?
Save the Goldeneagle
Copper Cockeral
EKs Link Exchange Headquarters
Creating Character Profiles
How to Start a Publishing Company
Create Your Own Writers Retreat
Need to Kill Writer’s Block? Kill a Character.
Narration for Writers
Doctor Who Gift & Video Showcase
NaNoWriMo: Reaching 50,000 useing EelKats 13 Step method
Conventional Writing Advice that Didnt Work for Her (or Me Either!)…
Why Was My Manuscript Rejected?
What if you could give a lie detector test to..
Etiole Swanzen
Harlequin books seeks real men for covers
EelKats Birthday Party Lensography
What do you look for in a book?
Accepting Your Writing Style
Whats On Your Toilet?

Page copy protected against web site content infringement by Copyscape

All donations to Star Log go to The Pidgie Fund. The Pidgie Fund buys food for pets in Southern Maine.

Blingo

Why are some people so mean?

Why are some people so mean?

Actually, I think sleep has a lot to do with it. Think about it, a mother has to get up at 6 to cook breakfast, get the kids up and dressed, drive them to school, make sure husband is up in time to get to work, get ready for work, drive to work, deal with fellow workers and costumers. Slave at work so long that the kids are forced to get a ride or take the bus home, so she misses out on hearing the news of the day (which by the time she gets home the kids have told someone else so see no need to tell her).

Than when she does get home her husband expects her to wash the laundry, vacuum the floors, pick up his work cloths which he threw on the floor because he was in a hurry to turn on the tv and watch some stupid game while getting drunk, than complains if it’s past 6 o’clock and she hasn’t cooked supper yet. Than his parents drop by at 9 o’clock and refuse to leave, she doesn’t get to bed till midnight, and she had no time to rest no time to take a break, and she’s barely asleep before the alarm goes off and the day starts all over again. She’s tired, she lacks sleep, she’s irritated, she’s aching, and she’s ready to snap at the drop of a pin.

Well, that’s just one scenario, but you get the idea, right?

People live hectic busy lives, and have no time for rest and relaxation anymore, and I think that if you go too long in the same old stressed out situations over and over again, with out ever having any time to just stop and rest, you end up getting mean and rude, with out even realizing it.

Of course there are lots of other reasons too, but I think this is the most common one.

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

If you liked this post, than you might like what I say on my other blog too!

Want to read more? Check out my Squidoo Lenses:

Need To Publish Your First Novel?
Ekography: EelKats Lensography
What Can You Do With Squidoo?
Save the Goldeneagle
Copper Cockeral
EKs Link Exchange Headquarters
Creating Character Profiles
How to Start a Publishing Company
Create Your Own Writers Retreat
Need to Kill Writer’s Block? Kill a Character.
Narration for Writers
Doctor Who Gift & Video Showcase
NaNoWriMo: Reaching 50,000 useing EelKats 13 Step method
Conventional Writing Advice that Didnt Work for Her (or Me Either!)…
Why Was My Manuscript Rejected?
What if you could give a lie detector test to..
Etiole Swanzen
Harlequin books seeks real men for covers
EelKats Birthday Party Lensography
What do you look for in a book?
Accepting Your Writing Style
Whats On Your Toilet?

Page copy protected against web site content infringement by Copyscape

All donations to Star Log go to The Pidgie Fund. The Pidgie Fund buys food for pets in Southern Maine.

Blingo