At Spiral's End

This post is in response to one of my friend Mike in his blog, Hidden Experience:
http://hiddenexperience.blogspot.com/2012/05/do-you-feel-sense-of-mission.html

Mike mentions how strongly he personally feels a sense of mission, and I felt I knew exactly what he meant-- but several comments were coming at the idea from the more prosaic angles, so I felt the need to clarify better what I believe he's trying to get at...

My comment was:

I think the normal "sense of mission" most people think of, and the ABDUCTEE sense of mission are a little different on several fronts:

1. We have a very strong sense of it from childhood that doesn't seem directly connected to our personal wants and dreams. We feel it coming to us from some outside source, rather than generating it from within as we develop like most people do. "I want to save animals," or "I want to work with abused children," are NOT the kind of MISSION we're talking about here.

2. Its not a 'savior complex' type of thing (being the special single person everyone 'oohs' and 'aahs' over) so much as a joining with many others to keep things from totally falling apart. Moreover, we don't expect to be rewarded or looked up to, but feel the need to keep it secret and hope to avoid notice if possible. We feel it will be possibly very dangerous at some points and not very rewarding-- but we believe we'll feel compelled to do it anyway.

3. Its about having a role like a JOB that we'll be jumping into at some point. Thankless, but necessary. What's more, few of us are sure just exactly WHAT that job will be. Very rarely, some of us will remember being trained for specific activities that will be needed in the future.

4. The sense of waiting drives us a little bit batty in the meantime. You don't want things to go crazy (as it seems it must before the mission begins) yet being caught in a holding pattern feeling useless is frustrating too. You want to either get on with things or prepare better, and you're never sure which way to go-- so you end up switching back and forth your entire life.

Many people can understand the idea that all of us (or at least most of us) can have the potential to find some special mission in life in which we find a place to make a difference for the better in the world.

Most of us can understand that there are egomaniacs that would LOVE to be as special to other people as they believe themselves to be-- just for existing perhaps, or maybe they have delusions of grandeur where they're actually a messiah in their own mind.

But neither the honorable sense of mission, nor the deplorable sense of mission is what's being addressed. At least not for me. I'm guessing Mike feels like I do-?

A better survey question would probably be: *"Do you have a nagging and profound sense of mission that involves a job you feel you'll be performing in a future that seems so different than today as to seem unreal?" --but that's a little long!

I like that these intimate personal details can be brought up and poked a little, because part of the experience of being an abductee or any person who undergoes events and encounters from the lesser-known side of reality isn't just what happens, its what those happenings do TO you.

I could also add to my description:

"5. Our rational minds keep trying to feed us lingering doubts that there is any legitimacy to the feeling of mission, despite the intuitive and emotional absolute certainty that there MUST be something real to do later on that will explain it all. It doesn't make any sense, even if you remember real encounters, to keep having faith in something that hasn't happened yet, but a part of us can't seem to help it, much to our chagrin."

You don't want to be right. You don't want to be wrong. But you sure don't want to wonder for the rest of your life which one you'll end up being! Just let me know so I can get on with things already! No matter how you look at it-- its uncomfortable.

I had a strange flashback a few days ago and was too distracted to remember to record it right away. I don't want to put it off any longer, because now that I got a morsel of an experience back, I don't want to forget it all again. Because that happens sometimes-- I'll get a piece of it popping up into my consciousness, but then it'll fade off into oblivion if I don't find a way to store it in my long-term memory. Writing helps that process a great deal, I've found, and its one reason I like to keep a journal.

The flashback was entirely tactile, with a little bit of sound. My eyes were squeezed shut. I don't know if that was because I was scared to look, or if I wasn't allowed to open my eyes. That part I don't remember.

What I do remember quite vividly is that I was sitting but reclined, like a dentist's chair (and people wonder why I'm a dental-procedure phobic!) and comfortable, but I was coming out of some weird sleep, like I had been sedated. I apparently realized where I was and who I was with, but I was frustrated and nervous.

But I stopped myself from freaking out. It was too late, I was there-- with THEM. No point getting scared now.

Maybe...

I wasn't paralyzed. Refreshing! I took advantage of the fact before I thought too much about it and alerted anyone as to what I was thinking. I reached out with both hands to the right side of myself where I had heard soft shuffling sounds. My right hand bumped into something first, so I put both hands where that was-- an arm. At about my waist, there was a very slender-- SUPER SKINNY arm, hairless and smooth. The grey (obviously) was standing very close to my torso, so I didn't have to reach far.

The reaction of the grey was interesting. The being pretty much stopped moving. I could feel them mentally, but the little guy wasn't afraid of me, although he was certainly wary. I felt a stillness of mind. He was waiting to see what I would do, and apparently he was going to let me do it.

I ran my hand along the forearm, to the elbow, and my left hand followed my right. I felt the skin. Firm, but with a soft undertexture?-- like a mushroom I've said before, but really, more like that 'Wacky Wall Walker' plastic. The arms aren't sticky in any way, though. Just smooth. (Fingertips are sticky, though...) Nor were they either warm or cold in temperature. Just cool.

The arms were harder overall than I expected them to be. Not like soft flesh over muscle and bone. The arms seemed to be more uniformly dense maybe-? I remembered when I felt their hands (when I was 16) and I squeezed them I noticed the same thing: they felt like they were made of stiff rubber. I found the same to be true of the arms all these years later.

I wrapped my fingers around the forearms several times to feel the diameter as I moved up to the upper arms. Again using both hands. They were SO stick thin it was almost a wonder-- how did they have the strength to do anything? I could easily wrap my fingers all the way around them and have a little room to spare-- about an inch and a half diameter, barely bigger than a standard mop or broom handle! I kept thinking, "Wow! You guys are SO freaking skinny!"

I felt the elbow. It didn't feel bony the way ours do. It was roundly smoothed over in this odd way I can't exactly describe.

I moved up to the shoulder, it actually thickened out to a more round bulbous shape, but still small. Still, as I felt around the shoulder to the collar area and upper back where I would expect a shoulder blade-- more oddness. It was still smooth and hard, a little thicker than the shoulder, a bit rounder than expected. I couldn't feel a shoulder blade. I couldn't feel bones beneath flesh. Just that hard rubber skin. I felt the collar bone area, but NO collar bone! No tendons going up into the neck, either. I felt vindicated. Every time I see a mock up of a grey and the artist gives them a collar bone I want to SCREAM! They don't have collar bones! No clavicles or scapulas. They are NOT built the same way. But just seeing it was one thing-- and given how they can project visual images into our minds I couldn't trust anything I saw with them. Feeling it like this, though-- I knew.

I pressed on the back a couple of times, and then the collar area as well, to see if I could feel those bones somehow under that odd, hardened, skin. But no. There was a form beneath, but I couldn't make it out-- only that it felt different than normal at the same time the overall shape was humanoid. It was so odd.

I worried that I might be hurting this guy. But I got the mental impression as soon as I thought about it that-- 'no'-- I wasn't. I wanted to be respectful, after all, I was just feeling this guy all over the place like a blind person! I was surprised to feel a patient sort of waiting from him, like he was actually perfectly okay with my explorations, though certainly surprised. Maybe even a little pleased-- like having me be curious but careful was such a huge improvement from my wild, unfettered fear of the past he was still a little surprised I could manage it. So was I.

Towards the end of the memory, I reached the back of the grey's head. I felt the skinny, short neck, but I did not put my hands all the way around it. It was just too disturbing-- as if any neck that stick-like was too delicate to be handled. But I think it was more my own queasiness than reality. Any neck that could hold that huge head up could not possibly be that weak!  Meanwhile, the back of the head was that same texture of skin and and bulged out a bit, and it lacked the 2 big tendons going in from the neck like humans have of course.

The last thing I did was use my right arm to feel the entire top of the back, sort of caressing the shoulders and feeling the spine. Except-- you may have guessed this by now-- no actual spine sticking out to notice. I couldn't feel a backbone. It was smooth there as well. Although the right and left areas to either side of that center spinal area did round out a bit from where the spine would have been, it was like touching an overly simplified and animated manikin. And either he was without clothes or was wearing an all-over body suit membrane that was indistinguishable from bare skin.

It was so unlike and yet like how people are built I kept having to feel it over and over to confirm to myself what I was sensing. But nothing ever changed shape under my hands. Everything absolutely stayed consistent. This was definitely a memory, not a dream.

I remember I thanked the being for letting me get all touchy-feely. I just wanted to know what he was for sure. If I could humanize his response, it would be something like, "Um, yeah... okay... are you done now?" He wasn't human, though, so there wasn't even that much personality in his reaction. I could feel Others around monitoring the situation. I think I was sensing the being pleased with me thoughts from them and the wary "Uh, guys... our experiment is touching me...!" from the one I was actually touching, because there was a sort of contradiction there. I'm not sure, though.

I don't know what happened after I thanked him and relaxed into the reclining chair again. Nor do I know what happened before that. However, I DO know that the memory was a very recent one. Within the last 3 months I feel certain. How I can know that when I know so little I can't tell you-- I just know. I keep thinking it was February.

Gerick and I had a very interesting conversation this evening before he ran off to bed. Somehow, the subject of the (tall, athletic) Blond human aliens and the (willowy, sharp-featured) Brunette human aliens came up. We were comparing memories of that night in 2006.

He doesn't remember any more now than he did shortly after it happened (the pounding knocks on the window, that someone came over that night and so on) and of course I find this frustrating because I have these very interesting memories that I dare not trust completely without verification from someone besides me.

We started talking about the character we call "Ethan" (although both of us are sure that is NOT his real name!) and all the times we saw him in the 90s before things became very quiet for almost 10 years. I was going over my impressions of what it was like to be around all these very handsome, tall, people-- greeting ordinary Earth humans like Gerick like long lost friends or family members. Everyone human seemed to know or recognize at least a few of the Nordic types-- except for me. I knew Ethan, but no one else at all that I can recall from that group. I was happy to be there, but a part of me was cautious and just observant, wanting to see what would happen as the meeting progressed. With the dark-haired people, it was the same sort of thing. I knew ONE GUY. While most others there seemed to have groups they were familiar with.

I felt gratified to be included at all, because it was obvious I wasn't exactly with the group of people the same way Gerick was. There was no 'long lost friend' vibe happening for me at all. I was just watching and waiting.

I do have a few very limited possible memories of seeing these types of people as a very small child before ever meeting Gerick-- but I don't count those yet. I don't know what to make of them. But for Gerick, its different. He has many memories of dealing with both the Blonds and the Brunettes off and on through childhood, adolescence, and adulthood.

He brought up what a different feeling there is being around the 2 groups. And as he has more experience, I listen when he talks about it, because he just doesn't talk about it much. But he was in the mood tonight of all nights.

The Brunettes are smart, and witty, and very-- penetrating. But also more normal for what we're used to with most people. They laugh, they joke, they get jealous. They may look a bit more odd than the Blonds, but mentally they are more like us. This is what convinces Gerick at the end of the day that they are their own race and not just a Grey/Human hybrid type (although I think for inexperienced abductees, it would be easy to mislabel hybrids as either Blonds or Brunettes if you didn't actually know what to look for besides "humanish with blond or dark hair.") Hybrids just by and large don't act quite right. As a group together there is a psychological divide quite deep and vast-- the emotionality is just so darned awkward. It slams you as soon as you meet a hybrid. And the hybrids tend to appear lackluster energetically and have obvious grey-type features to varying degrees.

The Brunettes, by contrast, have those characteristic funky faces. Long, sharp noses, pointy chins (I mean really pointy) and very skinny bodies, but not like the hybrids. They have more shape to their lean features. As Gerick puts it, they look like vampire elves. White-white skin, red lips, raven black hair-- they sort of have a built-in Goth thing going for them. I started calling them "The Darklings" at one point in time in my hand-written journals from the 90s. They have lots and lots of personality. Character. Very much unlike the hybrids-- who only seem to stand out when they're manifesting a mental illness.

The Blonds or Nordics or Angelics LOOK more human (if a rather idealized Aryan version of human) but they don't FEEL like us when you're around them. Gerick recalled again how he used to fall to his knees and hug their legs in his youth because their presence so overwhelmed him (even compared to the "Dragon Fear" reaction of being around the Greys.) This matches with other accounts I've read where people just exclaim over how there is something incredibly holy about them. Their aura, their gaze-- just reaches down and touches people in a very awe-inspired zone evidently.

And I don't know what to say to that, because I don't recall having that reaction. Maybe I did and just forgot. But also on the ship that night in September '06 when people were greeting the other Blonds on board, there was no worshipful behavior. Maybe this hits me a little differently because I wasn't raised Christian and was never brought up to feel awe for anyone or anything-- spiritual or otherwise. Maybe I just processed my feelings differently than most do.

Because I would be lying if I said I didn't notice a difference with them as opposed to other people. My labels were just coming at things from a much more liberal perspective I think. In my post about them I joked about them as being a bunch of hippies ready for a love-in or something, and I wasn't really kidding about that on most levels. If you can picture the sincere hippies of that long ago era (and I barely can, as I'm almost too young to remember) that comes close. Or some of the pagan gatherings with some of the most sincere of the earth-loving tree-huggers. Sort of like that, only more composed and intellectual. Or maybe kind of like some Tibetan monks. They have a very obvious "Peace & Love" sort of vibe that seems to emanate from them. Its really hard to explain.

I'm wary of mind-tricks, so I don't allow that vibe to mean too much to me when I'm in the thick of things with them. I'm sorry, as the child of a con-artist and as a witness to ceaseless propaganda throughout my life, I just can't let myself buy what they seem to be implying they sell! Not that they seem to care if I'm not all ga-ga about them. I pay more attention to how they actually behave and what they actually say (IF I CAN REMEMBER IT!) So far, I only recall kindness (but for the memory suppression, which I don't count as a blessing) and gentleness. Even humor. Until I can remember more, I can't draw much in the way of conclusions from all this, but I will at this point agree that there is a difference with the Blonds that goes beyond their pretty faces and rocking bodies.

Again, from the body and faces to the gentle, Peace & Love thing-- there is a distinct difference between these people and the hybrids. Even the very short-term forced love thing the Greys and hybrids can induce can not compare with this lingering and seemingly natural affectionate nature of the Blonds.

But then the conversation shifted slightly, and Gerick was talking about a memory from the ship that night. Specifically, he was talking about how he got into an argument with the Dark Doppleganger Dude. I have a partial memory that at the end of the meeting on the ship, before we left, Gerick and I approached the Brunette to talk or something. I had noticed him staring at me, and Ethan had said earlier that it was this sharp-nosed fellow who had pulled the covers over my shoulders that night in 1991. And when I was confused because I thought that guy didn't like me, Ethan informed me that I was WAY off. That in fact he liked me a lot.

All I could recall about talking to him later on the ship in '06 was that he was upset with Gerick-- but I didn't tell Gerick WHY I thought he was upset. So when Gerick spontaneously brought it up himself, I asked for clarification: Why was that guy angry? Gerick got thoughtful, but he was also a bit irritated, and said that the Dark Guy was like a brother to him, but he didn't like the way Gerick was treating me and was actually arguing with him about it.

Which is what I remembered.

I had been suicidally depressed from out of the blue for some reason and Gerick didn't really take it seriously. But it was more than that. Gerick can be a bit of an ass to me from time to time. Not normally-- but when stressed I AM the closest outlet. And meeting with the aliens makes him a bit stressed out, imagine that! Anyway, he had been curt and dismissive of me since they arrived, and then either gave me looks of disgust or ignored me most of the time after we reached the ship (see how I leave out things that would make him look bad?) I mean, I was embarrassed by his behavior more for HIM than for ME, because he comes off being such an ass sometimes. Meanwhile, here are these odd beings from another world or dimension, and it doesn't even occur to him that for someone who is supposed to be a special agent or friend of theirs or something, he's just not living up to the obvious expectations of someone in his position!

Dark Guy noticed it and was itching to bitch at him for it. I remember Gerick basically making excuses for himself and saying its hard 'down here' because things just get to him (which is why he had to be such an ass to me, apparently.) Really? Its hard to be respectful of people? Funny. I don't seem to have that problem and I live down here too. *rolls eyes*  I mean I was really embarrassed for him. Being a part of that scene I wanted to sink into the floor (yeah, I left those details out of my post about it months ago as well.) However, a part of me was also -- I admit it!-- gratified to see someone step up and call Gerick out on this sort of shit. Its ridiculous for him to behave like some sort of overgrown baby. Embarrassing.

~NOT IN FRONT OF THE ALIENS DEAR!~
 
Anyway-- I asked Gerick if he couldn't remember being on the ship-- how could he possibly remember that argument? And he didn't have an answer except that maybe the emotions of it made a portion pop out or something. He didn't even remember where they were when they had the argument (and I mean I remember yelling and gesturing and some Blonds sort of hovering near-by in case it got physical!) Its really a very embarrassing scene to recall, but the very prosaic nature of it makes me think this may be a real memory-- especially as I now finally have Gerick verifying some aspect of it.

Yet another example of how weird things happen completely unrelated to anything else in my life. My mind is obviously on other issues--  yet a very odd thing happened last night which I would not have awakened and caught had it not been for the inclement weather. This thing that happened was SO not personal that its difficult for me to even grasp its importance. Definitely not spiritually geared towards my growth or anything along those feel good new-agey lines...

We've been having strong wind and downpouring rain, which is unusual here in that its not really stormy here that much. What storms we get are pretty tame compared to other areas of the country. Almost no thunderstorms for example. But we've have these winds and rains and last night a very strong gust knocked something over on my deck and woke me up with a start.

I had just been dreaming about something involving traveling on a boat on a river, typical mixed up dreaming scenario, nothing unusual at all. But then it shifted into something else, which went on a few minutes. Because I was asleep when it started, I'm sure I would not have remembered if the process has not been interrupted in the middle of things and the storm had not awakened me.

My room was dark (but for a small night light tucked into a corner-- yes I'm 41 years old and have a night light) and as soon as I opened my eyes I realized things were not normal. For one thing, I was having visions again. Across my visual field I saw a grid-like or net-like pattern of very tiny hexagons with lines going down to the right, repeated over my entire area of sight. The artificiality of it was so pronounced that it freaked me out. (I should note here that this type of artificial grid pattern in the visual field accompanied by intricate visions has happened before.) I could only overwhelm this view by looking right at the area where the night light was-- otherwise it dominated what I saw, overlapping my vision of the shadowy outlines of my bedroom.

Beyond that, however, it gets even stranger. I was seeing 3-dimensional (actually rotating slowly or tilting in motion to show more precisely all sides of what was presented) full-color, intricately detailed schematics of -- okay that part I'm still trying to figure out. I've had this type of thing happen before, and given some of the details, I'm feeling fairly confident it was an alien thing again. I saw, for over 10 minutes, renderings of what looked like alien ships, and perhaps living communities for Greys which included things like engines (deceptively simple yet complex at the same time), water processors, and dozens upon dozens of built systems-- often including renderings of Greys sitting, standing or occupying space in some way for a room. The visions were all very exacting and started with the WHOLE of some type of built vehicle or building-type place, then moved in, doing cutaways of walls and outer shells to reveal inner rooms, then went into the systems built in like water, air, or whatever. Ridiculous detail, so that anyone with know how and materials could re-build from these plans. Again and again, over and over, like visual tutorials on "how things work where we live" or something!

Some of the visions shows limited areas where human figures (computer generated drawings, no actual photographs or videos) were present. I found that particularly captivating-- but I couldn't make heads or tails out of any of it.

I was utterly and completely overwhelmed by these presentations. They were careful and exacting, but also went by very swiftly-- such as that the only way to make use of them would be to have a pause or slow-mo re-play in order to follow it. I could not keep up! Nor am I capable of imagining all these precisely accurate system layouts. I like interior decorating and architecture more than the average person, sure (and there's more to that story with the aliens as well) but I don't know anything about HUMAN systems like plumbing and electric wiring and so forth. What these-- I'm presuming downloads-- were showing are not anywhere near my interest or background knowledge. Why show this stuff to ME?! It seems like a complete waste of a perfectly good presentation. What the heck am I supposed to DO with it? Also, it was shown to me during sleep, like it was being downloaded into my brain at a time when I wasn't supposed to notice, just like with the times I've caught them uploading text I've read over a period of months or years from me. My brain is acting like an alien computer storage unit now!? HUH!?!

I don't get it. I just don't bloody fucking understand what this is all about!

This continued on and on, for about 10 minutes (I looked at our digital clock to check) and I kept trying to note details for writing about it later (like I do!) I noticed far more curved lines than straight, which is very different than human technology for certain. Lots of tubes, and simple, almost organically laid out systems, as if the ships were designed to be large, artificial bodies that could breathe or something. Very strange and unlike anything I've ever encountered-- even on alien ships you don't see the 'innards.' Very flowing, almost no seams or "parts" as if entire systems were injected into molds whole somehow. I saw a lot of donut shaped things. Many flattened spheres. Many long round tubes. And grids inside of grids, but rounded grids without sharp corners.

It went on long enough that I experimented by trying to override with my own images-- what about... crayons or flowers or other things I could imagine? But it didn't matter, the visual presentation continued, unhampered by my attempts to think about something else and thereby change the visuals. So it wasn't from my own mind in any conventional way, of that I am 100% certain.

I tried to relax and take notes as I listened to the wind and rain. Its not like I haven't been through things like this before. I have no fear of such things any longer, so might as well take the time to study it as best I can while I have the opportunity I figure.

It really seemed like an intelligence download, like a fast-forward visual presentation where all these things were explained in detail to someone who didn't know how it worked. Which is why I'm so confused as to why they'd do this while I'm sleeping and couldn't possibly consciously understand what the hell they're trying to show me for the most part. Where's the logic behind it? There must be some reason, but as of yet I can't comprehend it. "For the future" is all I can imagine-- but a future where I need to know this... HOW!?

A final interesting thing happened at the end of all of this. I'm thinking it would have gone on longer had the process not been obviously-- interrupted. A very low flying military jet went by overhead, roaring very loudly, then making that whining sound they do when they slow down to change course. Rather abruptly, the vision started to dim, the colors went off, there were flashes of light as if their -- uh, broadcast?-- was having enormous interference or something. Then it just dimmed away. Took about a minute for it to fade out completely.

There are a pair of military jets that routinely fly sorties up and down the west coast. On any given day you'll hear or see them fly by overhead easily a handful of times. They fly pretty low sometimes, but not too often at night-- and really never during active storms like that, let alone at night, so this was a bit puzzling. Lately, I've seen up to 8 jets fly by, in pairs or singly, which is way up from the normal number of 2, with maybe SOMETIMES 4. For a single jet to fly really low (its roar was unmistakeable) at 4 am in a driving wind and rain storm was so out of the realm of normal that I wonder if there wasa reason related to my vision--? Maybe not, but certainly an interesting correlation to note.

*** For comparison's sake, here is an UPLOAD experience, where they took info from my head, rather than downloading it into mine: http://spirals-end.livejournal.com/18694.html
You'll note that when they're sending me visuals, I don't have noise, test patterns, or tingling head pressure points at all. Its much more fluid and easy apparently.

Several people have suggested that perhaps what I'm recalling here was not an actual physical experience, but rather an actual astral/spiritual experience-- or even a projected visualization sent by the aliens. I commented back what led me to think it was physical (despite their ability to de-materialize and transport my body through open space somehow.) Those comments below:

"Physical versus astral abductions is a tricky subject, and so I think its VERY important to differentiate if at all possible.

I had been interested in ghosts and paranormal types of things from a very young age, and as I learned to read by age 3, by 16 I had read a great many adult books on various things. My drive to understand I believe came from knowing on some level that things were happening to me beyond the 'normal' reality we're told to expect, and I was searching for answers about things in adult books even by the age of 8. So, yes, I DID know about out-of-body-experiences, and what an astral body was (although not so much about astral reality as a whole-- that took years of comparing and contrasting my own astral work with what others have reported). To begin with in this experience, I assumed that I HAD to have been just a soul outside my body, yet with a body shape, so -- yeah, having an astral encounter.

Very clearly noting the bed was EMPTY upon my return (and there was NO mistaking it and I was wide awake and lucid at the time, just like normal waking perception-- no drowsiness or wooziness) and then finding a dot on the tiny burn spot I remembered-- convinced me that I was in my actual, physical body, which was 'shifted' somehow for ease of transport and then made normal and solid again for the duration of my experience 'abroad' -- only to be shifted again to send me back to bed, where I was then left in my normal, solid state. It was a physical experience, being in the city, on the ramp, in the cave, sitting on the table/bed, getting burned on my brow...

The older and more experienced I am now, the more convinced of this I am. Even though I know astral on astral FEELS physical, I've experienced it well enough and often enough to know that vision and hearing are DIFFERENT. Colors are a little strange, and you see energy lines (auras) very clearly, even in bright light. Also, I'm slightly hearing impaired physically-- and have been since childhood, but in astral I can hear very well and there are interesting echo effects sometimes. Finally, in astral-- there is NO ability to SMELL! I distinctly remember thinking that alien city place smelled seriously odd, and slightly unpleasant. I would not be able to note that if I were not in my physical body.

I realize that people might want to resist the idea that this was a physical experience, from start to finish (even de-materialized, my body was all there, just different somehow). Yet I can come to no other conclusion in this particular case.

I have had things happen where the aliens ALSO have pulled me OUT of my body, for real-- and the experience was very different. No-- there was no physical abuse when dealing with them in the astral. Its an energy/soul study thing. Again, I can't get into it yet-- but I promise I WILL write about these experiences (what I can remember of them) and lay out how they're different from what I experienced in this last post. For one thing, when I returned to my body-- I SAW MY BODY ON THE BED! Both types of abductions have happened often enough to me that I can tell them apart very easily now. This first memory of this type of abduction is when I first began to put the pieces together, though. It took a while to figure it out.

Yes, I've had out-of-body experiences both as a child and as an adult-- on my own without any aliens being around. After the aliens starting messing with my astral self, though, I began to fear and fight OBEs. Its only been in the last few years that I've relaxed my vigilance and begun to experiment again. Still, I rarely go far from my body. I've become used to interacting with the astral plane, but I'm still a big chicken! I'm getting better, but its a process for sure.

Kundalini yoga-- a little. Kundalini energy work-- a lot. I've done the whole tantric orgasm thing as well with the egg--->snake-->vortex-->lightning-->buzzing line--> popping out of your body and seeing The Light. Yeah. Check!

I'll add here that I haven't finished telling what I remember yet, I've only covered everything up to age 17, plus a smattering of experiences after that, as well as everything I can recall from 2006 until now. I think I'm about halfway through my entire set of memories-- maybe a little over that--? So there is still a lot to cover from 1987 through 2005 or so. There's another 10 years of intense activity to report, some of which has been covered, but... I saved the hard to understand stuff and the experiences where I had witnesses (including neighbors who called the police once!) for last.

Which means that a lot of WHY I have come to tentatively believe what I do about my experiences hasn't been explained yet. I'm getting to it, I swear! Yes, where ever that alien city was, I was there physically, in my solid body again, for the duration that I can recall. They de-materialized and re-materialized my body apparently because its easier to sneak a human away and back again. Why they sometimes take us physically from our bed with escorts and ships, and why they sometimes just "beam" us up and down to and from ships-- I don't know. There are different aliens, different groups of the same sorts of aliens, and different circumstances and obstacles to getting the human (when you live in rural areas, they come for you in person more, from what I've observed, but in crowded areas with lots of potential witnesses, they 'beam' people to and fro more, at least that's what I've noticed for myself and my husband.)

Because I do have a lot of knowledge and experience for astral levels of reality, I've REALLY paid attention to that whole notion of astral versus physical thing-- and its not ALL one or the other. Its just not that simple. I know that this makes the entire situation harder to swallow for skeptics, and not so easy for New Agers who embrace the woo-woo alternatives over physical explanations, but this is where I'm at at this point. I know I risk displeasing everyone by not towing the line for either one side or the other, but I have to call it like I've found it to be: sometimes one and sometimes the other. 

Its so hard for me to do this sometimes on a personal level because the all or nothing approach most people have to things is just not the way to figure out the truth. I'm not trying to fit reality into what I can understand of it-- I'm trying to expand myself to accept the entirety of the reality. I often get suggestions from people asking if I've approached it from this or that (often currently trendy) perspective, and my real answer, which I KNOW is rude is: "Yeah, 20 years ago. But no longer." I mean, I appreciate people offering ideas and asking questions-- don't get me wrong! I just hope that everyone will have patience with me while I share what I remember and how I reached my conclusions to this point.

Overall, the more I've learned, the more I've understood that this isn't an easy set of experiences to relate to the public at large, because it steps on everyone's toes: religious, spiritual, intellectual... It cracks open most pre-conceived notions and laughs at them. But it also confirms some things that always seem to make sense. But you never know which will end up being which!

I was reading an article about the weaknesses of memory and how easily it can decay and change over time. When I think back on so many of these earlier abduction experiences, I must admit I would doubt my own mind more had it not been for one thing: Writing in journals after every experience shortly after it happened. I wrote of what happened to me when it was still fresh and clear in my mind, and then later when I check those journals from long ago, written in an oddly graceful spidery tiny cursive hand, the only thing that seems to change is that the details get lost over time and re-reading a diary entry brings it back. I have no doubt, however, that even simply the act of writing it down helps to cement my original memory quite well.

And good thing, too. Because some memories get so fantastical, I'm not sure how to categorize them...

After the horror of my 16th summer, things did die down for some months. Way down. But around January/February of 1987, something rather spectacular occurred.

The experience began abruptly with me waking up to a strange physical sensation. A sort of humming buzz feeling without sound. I felt light-- and good, really good. As I began to come to, almost feeling like purring, given the high level of comfort/pleasure I felt, I realized I was WHOOSHING through the air! I quickly became alarmed. I could see and hear normally, yet I could not FEEL very well, almost as if I was wrapped in some sort of bubble force field. I seemed to be sort of curled into a fetal position, but with my head up and looking around. What was going on?

I saw my bedroom door and wall heading for me, and I closed my eyes and braced for impact-- only none came. I opened my eyes and I was flying through the hall by the kitchen and then through the living room!! My father was watching Johnny Carson (so that tells you it was quite early at night, 11:30 to 12:30.) I was astonished! I whizzed right by him close to ceiling height, and he took no notice of me!

Then I was going through the wall of the house where we lived and out into the air. I decided I must have been pulled out of my body, which is why I could go through solid structures and was invisible to my father. As I continued on, I began to rise UP and my speed increased. I was definitely not doing this to myself. Something or someone was pulling me. But what?

I soon found myself a half mile across the landscape, flying over the end of the suburban developments and then over a cow pasture, rising further and further into the air. I could look down and around very easily, and I was torn between being thrilled and being scared to death. I knew I wouldn't fall (and hey-- I wasn't in my body anyway, right?) but I was just so shocked to find myself in this situation. I was immune to the clear wintery air, another reason I thought I was in my astral form.

I finally looked up into the direction into which I was being pulled-- and I could see what looked like a beautiful bright blue star hovering in the night sky.

I admired it at the same time a quiver of dread filled my gut: who or what was THAT!? A part of me hoped I had suffered enough and maybe some real angels were coming to show me a little mercy or something. I thought out to the light that I should not be out of my body like this, and to my slight surprise I felt an answering reassurance directed at me. However, my vision slowly blacked out and I lost consciousness.

The next thing I knew (and I have no idea how much time had passed) I was standing up, sort of feeling dopey (can you be out of your body and yet dopey? That didn't make much sense... Don't you need a body to be drugged?) My feet were adhered somehow to an air pocket or something right above a very narrow sort of rail/walkway that wound up and around through some strange cityscape. To my shock and alarm, I was at least 50 feet or more up from the ground and steadily angling up as we traveled along this odd pathway. We sort of slid, not needing to move our legs or walk. Just stand and glide gently but swiftly along!

I say "we" because a grey was standing about 4 feet in front of me. Yet I wasn't immediately scared of him, because for some reason, I had it in my head that the one in front of me was my mother (my human mother). Like I had an odd mental construct or vision sort of overlaying the grey form. My adrenaline shot through me because this was sort of like being on a roller-coaster without a seat, or straps or ... well, ANYTHING to hold onto! Just my feet. They were sort of stuck. I could move the upper part of my body, but my feet were held firm some how. I yelled out, "We're gonna FALL!!" and the grey in front of me (my regular escort guy) twisted around to look at me and said into my head, but in my mother's voice in English, "Of course not! I wouldn't let that happen to you!" He (both my escorts were male) even managed to get my mother's scolding intonations just right. For some reason, even though I knew on some level this guy was not my mother, I allowed myself to be assured.

The view of the strange city was spectacular, and I began to really LOOK at what was around me, now that I felt fairly confident I wasn't about to plunge 100 feet or more to my death (I continued to climb up and up along this track). I saw many buildings gathered on both sides of the track, stretching out to the shortened horizon (?) on my right and only going maybe a half mile out on my left with water or some low, flat, open feature beyond the city to that side of me. It seemed to be sunset heading towards twilight, and there was a light source glowing softly on the shortened horizon to my left. But I couldn't really see a sun, or clouds. The sky didn't seem to go that high above me, and it was almost like the light source was being filtered through a high frosted ceiling?? I couldn't tell you if this was an alien world I was seeing, but I suspect it was a grey city on a huge 'mothership' because there was a feeling of things being not quite OPEN enough to be outside. The air was also very, very still, and had a funny smell, but I can't remember what it was exactly, I just remember thinking it smelled weird.

There were some openings to the buildings, like windows, and some had lights in them. Most of the buildings were in odd shapes and not quite like anything I had seen before. There were some boxlike buildings, though, too-- like you see here, but none were made out of stone, or brick, or wood. No roof looked like we have here, no peaks or gables or triangular arches like we're used to-- and some buildings didn't have tops to them, reminding me of miniature open-air stadiums or something. If you can imagine rounded adobe structures without the adobe part, that's closer to what I mean. Things seemed to be made out of a glass-like plastic, like they were injection molded or something, but there were many kinds of textures and colors. The largest building that really captured my attention was a blackish pyramid with a lovely pink irridescent sheen to it, even in the dimming light. I thought it was especially beautiful. Vehicles flew through the air, most of them smallish (economy car sized or smaller) and there were ramps and rail-like walkways EVERYWHERE, just like the one I was on, appearing like ribbons winding around the buildings. No side-rails on any of them, and it looked like they were only about a foot and a half wide, just like the one I was on. It seemed to be a standard feature of the city. Most of the buildings were from 2 to 5 stories high. Nothing like skyscrapers were anywhere. They had tremendously creative architecture, and there was some color-- though nothing seemed bright or garish. (But then, the light was dimming, as I said.) There were odd, smaller features scattered throughout-- spheres and spikes inserted at random junctures, as if there was a purpose to them. Still, all in all, it wasn't THAT different than the sorts of cities we have, really. A little more organic and flowing perhaps, not so much with the right angles and blocks, but very easily identified as a city.

I twisted around and turned as best I could to see everything, which is how I noticed the guy about 4 feet behind me. I remember thinking, "Oh, that's supposed to be my sister." Didn't look like her, but I was in an oddly compliant frame of mind.

There was a sense of bustling life, which-- looking back now, I find surprising. See, most of the time I've ever recalled being in ships run by greys, everything is black, white, or gray inside. (The two times I recall color, it was a light yellow line going along a wall on one ship, and the red/copper robes some higher status females wore once.) There is no art, everything is plain and utilitarian. You have very little sense of culture when it comes to interactions in these places with the greys. It can make one wonder if they actually have much of a culture. But when I think of this particular experience, it makes me surmise that perhaps they're keeping their culture away from us most of the time for a reason. This was a place greys lived with one another where humans didn't come... usually.

Why was I the exception? Or am I? I have to wonder, because I've since heard of some descriptions given by experiencers of being on a grey world, and some reports seem similar to what I remember. When it comes to details, though, Raymond Fowler's books about Betty Andreasson Luca have the most matching details. (The walkways, buildings, and the flat lightning thing coming up especially...) I suspect, however, that I was on a massive mother ship, not an actual world. Being so far above the city and looking out, you could see it didn't have that limitless edge you'd expect to see on a world. And the ceiling as opposed to a sky was a biggie for me as well. It is possible I was on another world under a massive dome of some sort, of course. I just don't know for sure.

In any event, as we topped a rounded ascent, I could at last really focus on where we were heading. It seemed to be the tallest feature of the city, but sort of on the outside of it-- a very tall, organic/geological sort of mini-mountain. I couldn't tell if it was made of rock or roughened plastic, as it had an odd texture and was grayish-brown. The ramp-way I was on was headed straight for a dark opening in its face, like a cave. The structure or mountain was tall enough and wide enough that I have no idea what was on the other side of it-- the city seemed to come up to it and even wrap around it a bit on the right. On the left, it seemed to open up a little.

But I stopped caring about the scenery when I realized there was something funky about the entrance to the cave ahead. I could hear a buzz/roaring, like electrical discharge sounds from a 50s sci-fi movie, and see what looked like contained LIGHTNING flashing over where a doorway would be to the cave. I was terrified because we were heading right for it!! "Aren't we going to get electrocuted?!" I asked my "mother." Again, he turned around and sent the words in my mother's voice into my head, "Of course not!" I tried to believe everything would be okay as we got closer and closer. The lightning was very peculiar: it was FLAT. It was like if lightning were miniturized and as flat as paper-- and then have that flash on and off across an entrance instead of a doorway. That's what we had to go through, and I balked at the thought of touching those many forked branches of electrical discharge. But as my escort in front came to the entry, the lightning stopped and he went through and then myself, and then the one behind, before the contained mini-lightning began flashing again.

Weird.

We went through a short tunnel, and then the ramp-rail sort of glided to a stop. The escort in front stepped aside and sort of turned to grab me as I stumbled-- not used to using my legs after all this time. The one behind stepped off as I turned to look. Then we walked a short ways into a larger cave-like room. It wasn't very bright, but not dark either. No damp cave smell. There were some taller greys waiting for us. The room was about 50 feet in diameter, rounded, and there was a large, low round table to the left (of the entrance coming in) and to the rear was a table/bed contraption. My silent escort (the one behind me the whole time) went right to the table, my regular one instructed me to go to the "doctor" waiting by the bed-thing, "Be a good girl!" it admonished me, again using my mother's voice in my head. I asked aloud, "Will it hurt?" meaning whatever this taller grey was going to do to me. Once again, I heard, "Of course not!" said with the exact same slightly frustrated inflection it had used twice before-- almost like it had a limited range of mother-sounding lines in stock or something.

Given that he had been right so far, I decided to trust him. By this time, I knew full well that this guy was not my mother, nor the other my sister. But I understood that they wanted me to act as if they were, so I was going along with the scenario, not wanting to rock the boat too much in the alien environment.

So I walked right up to the taller doctor grey, who was about 5' tall. He had me sit on the edge of the bed-table and was all business and never communicated with me. Then he pulled out what looked like a penlight. The light at the end of it was really bright, so I closed my eyes as he brought it towards my face. Then I felt him put it on the inside corner (nose-side) of my right eyebrow, just above the hairline-- and it BURNED LIKE HELL! I yelled, but the doc finished very swiftly and backed away from me.

Now I was MAD. I stood up and started just screaming at my escort-- "You lied to me! It DID hurt! It burned! And you're NOT my mother, so stop using her voice, and THAT guy [pointing] isn't my sister! I can't trust you! I never knew what to believe with you guys!! Damn it! It fucking BURNS, you son-of-a-bitch!"  I was hopping mad!

The reaction I got was noteworthy. The 2 or 3 or so escort greys (4.5' tall) as well as a couple of taller greys (about 5' tall)  gathered around the round table turned to look at me, but none more swiftly than my regular guy. He turned to stare and because we made eye contact I could feel his utter shock at my reaction (telepathically.) My anger was really scary to him! He didn't expect it-- and I couldn't understand how he could be so surprised. Meanwhile, the doc guy stepped back away from me further, maybe afraid I'd attack him. I had no intention of attacking anyone, but I was pissed off and not shy in saying so! I began walking towards my escort, yelling the whole time. I only remember the first few things I said, but suffice to say I was pissed, ranting, and cussing up a storm. I think some of it was my venting nervous energy after being tense and wary for the whole travel-by-ramp and then coming through the lightning entrance. But the burn-spot above my eyebrow just cinched it for me. I remember calling them "fuckers"-- some diplomat I make, huh? I can still remember how much it hurt though.

It was at this point that my memory starts to dim again. More missing time. (Both before getting on the ramp and after the procedure.)  I'm pretty sure that the doc guy inserted some small thing into my sinus cavity by burning through my skin and skull. I do not have a lump under my skin, and never have had one. But that tiny spot on my face has always been a little sore ever since. No wonder they usually go up the nose!

The last memory I had was of once again very swiftly flying through the air. It was early dawn, and I could see I was flying towards my house! Once more I went right through the walls as if they weren't even there. The flight slowed way down as I got close to my room. I was expecting to see my body on the bed, ready for me to re-enter it. But that's not what I saw. I saw an empty bed! Puzzled, but very distracted by what was happening, I felt myself slide into bed. Then I felt the covers lower right over me like air had plumped them up and now they were released to fall. (This sensation with the covers has happened a few times, but only with physical experiences.)

I immediately 'awoke'-- not feeling as if I'd been sleeping at all-- and sat up in bed. The question burning in my mind was: was I in my body or not for that whole thing? I got up to use the bathroom, and while I was in there I checked my eyebrow-- and there was a red dot right over my right eyebrow. It was extremely sore. So it was physical. My whole body traveled to where ever that place was, and yet somehow I could be invisible and go through solid things like walls! HOW!?!

Later, after reading Budd's book, Sight Unseen, he described how he had come to think that the aliens can change our bodies to transport us, and that this change can render us invisible. It seems I'm not the only one who has been confused as to whether I was material or having a physical versus a spiritual experience. But it was physical, just-- temporarily immaterial somehow too.

This is not to say that I haven't been out of my body with the aliens as well! I have, but that report will have to wait. Having both kinds of experiences can make things hard to figure out, though-- and so I don't blame abductees/experiencers who might be confused about it. It took me years to begin to even figure some of it out. Because all events and encounters are not all ONE type of thing, its not so easy to answer questions with a definitive answer. I'm still trying to get everything straight.

"Emergence"-- how's that for a carefully cloaked term for what I'm about to write about?

So--! Early August I saw the grey peeping in at me around the bed. Just half his face for a couple of seconds. But that was all it took to blow my mind right out of the water. I understood the wider implications immediately: my fears were not ungrounded.

My reaction was to live my life as best I could during the day, napping for part of it when things were busy and people were around and awake. However, at night, I lived my life as if I were under siege. I knew They would be returning and I dreaded this with my entire being. But how does one defend against something that can do things no human can, including pass through solid objects and move SO fast? I couldn't attack them; I couldn't barricade myself against them. What could I do?

I decided upon a solution the very next night after my sighting: I would hold myself hostage.

My reasoning was simple: they wanted ME, so I had to assume they wanted me ALIVE. If that was the only leverage I had-- I was going to use it, especially since I was semi-suicidal already. They were telepathic, at least when in close proximity, they would know I wasn't kidding. Because I wasn't. I meant it.

Night after night once the last family member had gone to sleep, I prepared myself for hours of vigilance. I sat on the wooden floor of my bedroom with nothing but a very sharp knife. If I saw one coming, I was going to slash my own throat. My fear was so fantastically high that I had no doubt I could do it. Better death than to be captured again. I didn't read or allow myself to be distracted in any way. I sat with a knife in my right hand ready to do myself in and absolutely seriously planning on carrying through.

The last weeks of summer passed like this. Night after night after night I held myself hostage. And it seemed to work. There was not a peep. Everything seemed to be normal again. My crazed panic remained sky-high, but I convinced myself that I had figured out how to hold them off, and so maybe, just maybe I could bear to get through all of this.

School began and it became much harder to get the sleep I needed while trying to attend classes. I was a little reassured to begin with that this was a piece of normal reality, and so attended school faithfully to get out of my home and into a very public place.

It was between 1 and 3 weeks into September during a weekend (I was too disorganized to write this next thing down until months later, so the date is a guess) when my normal nightly vigil was interrupted by pain and bleeding.

I had not had my period in some 4+ months at that point and so being surprised by a period in the middle of the night wasn't too shocking. But I'd never had cramps before and these cramps escalated quickly into a terrible, grinding pain with sharp tearing feeling. I gave up my vigilance and self-hostage-ship to curl up on my bed and just groan. Everyone was in bed and asleep when I found myself in absolute agony. Then the blood came gushing. (Sorry males out there who find this sort of thing hard to read. Try living it and then get back to me.)

It was about 4 in the morning. I knew something was very wrong and called to my mother. I knocked on her door (which was right next to the bathroom) and yelled for her. No response. The blood was going down my legs and I didn't know what to do, so sort of screaming and sobbing at the same time I ran to the bathroom and stripped off my bloody bedclothes and then sat on the toilet. There was a ripping, burning sensation and I couldn't for the life of me figure out what the hell was wrong with me.

Wow. This is really hard to write...

I realized that something had emerged from me and slid into the toilet bowl. Still crying, still calling for my mother (and I NEVER asked her for help, so you know I was desperate) I got off the toilet to look into the bowl and see what the heck the thing was. And I saw, floating and about as big as my hand, a FETUS. Covered in white (which I now know is vernix, but at the time I was baffled) it looked perfectly normal for a fetus about 4 months along from what I remember, the umbilical cord and afterbirth all attached but not floating as well as the fetus. The water in the bowl was just bright scarlet red. It made for quite the visual contrast...

I went totally silent for maybe 30 seconds. A minute. I knew what I was looking at but it didn't make any sense. How could there be a baby in the toilet? I was a VIRGIN. Had not even kissed a boy let alone what else! (And for people who surmise it was a forgotten incest thing, my father had been totally impotent at that point for years, and this was before viagra. He literally could not impregnate me, even if he wanted to-- and as bad as my father could be at times, he was never sexually inappropriate with me-- EVER.) As I looked on, tears blurring my vision, I could have sworn I saw it-- twitch. Maybe it was my imagination combined with the blurry vision, who knows, but the idea it was still alive or going through death throes freaked me out on a scale even higher than I was at already. Then I lost my mind totally and started screaming bloody murder. I was on my knees, leaning over the bowl and staring at this floating fetus and just not comprehending what in the fuck was going on! I screamed for my mother and couldn't believe she didn't hear me, and I screamed because I just couldn't stop myself.

In the midst of this emotional meltdown, I felt it... that weirdly powerful sense of PRESENCE I now identify with the greys. And I got quiet (well, still gasping and such, but not screaming anymore) and looked behind me at the bathroom door. I could feel it-- Them. They were there and coming. They were somehow a part of this. It made no sense to me (this was before Hopkins book Intruders came out talking about the hybrid program) but it was the only thing that could explain it. I watched as the door handle started moving VERY slowly... and the dread filled me for what would be on the other side of that door.

I had a weird few seconds before my memory ended. I knew it was too late, they were there and I had no means to hold them off. I also felt like they wanted the fetus. And I got suddenly very angry. A flash of rage filled me and just as the door started opening (and whoever it was, the shadow was too short to be either of my parents or my sister) -- I reached out and flushed the toilet.

NO. YOU WILL NOT TAKE IT! FUCK YOU!!

There the memory ends. The sound of the toilet flushing, the door opening to someone about 4 and a half feet tall in shadow, and my vision turning black.

I awoke the next morning in bed. The wrong way in bed. My head where my foot should have been, new clean nightgown on, maxi pads in place, covers tucked around me, pillow under my feet. I felt-- aching cramping pain, and a queer numbness emotionally. I remembered what happened the night before. It was a dream I decided. A terrible nightmare. That's when I noticed how disgustingly wet I felt, and when I got up I was shocked at all the blood all over the bed.

But I was quiet. I got up and cleaned up after myself and changed AGAIN. And I tried my best to clean up my mattress and put blankets in the wash. (Eventually, I gave up on the mattress and just flipped it over.) Just a really heavy surprise period. Yeah-- that's all. It was a crazy dream. It HAD to be. I could NOT have had a miscarriage in the middle of the night. No way. It was just impossible.

Yet later in the bathroom I got up and happened to glance down at the foot of the toilet, and there was a dried blood smear, like someone had tried to wipe it all up and just didn't quite get it all. I had the memory come to me of wiping down the floors and cleaning up after what had happened. Just a quick flash of memory of a couple of seconds. And I didn't want to believe it. I finished cleaning it up, though. I never told my parents or any friends or anyone about my ordeal of that night. I didn't even think about it except very rarely for years. As freaked out and scared as I was when I saw the alien in my bedroom, there was a deeper sense of horror at my virgin miscarriage in some ways. What it meant. Taken together? Those 2 incidents destroyed my life for some time.

My junior year is the year I went from straight As to flunking every single class. And when I mean every class-- I'm not kidding. I couldn't even pass the easy stuff. In point of fact I quit bothering to try. I didn't even turn in in-class assignments and tests, let alone homework. I was sleeping or staring off into a stupor in class, and if the slightest incident came up (such as being questioned by teachers about where my work was) I would just have a breakdown and start crying and not stop for hours. I was a complete mess. But I couldn't explain myself. If I told and people thought I was crazy, I'd be sent someplace (I reasoned) where I would be drugged and not allowed knives to hold off my tormentors. Later, I found one of my mother's guns and used that instead of the knife to hold myself hostage (much faster death, easier to do, etc.) I just couldn't see how the rest of the world and my life mattered when there was this whole THING happening to me. My faith in the future, in my reality, was gone and I just couldn't deal with it.

Yet I had to. I did, obviously, as I'm here writing about it now. But getting from THERE to HERE was a long, painful, awful journey.

These are some of the memories behind my opinion that the Greys are not Holy Angels nor Space Brothers, here to share free energy devices with us, if only the nasty governments and corporations would just get out of their way! No-- uh-uh. Whatever they are doing, they are doing for themselves. The best way they can avoid harm to us is to block or suppress memory of things that, if recalled, can destroy a life. They could have really terrorized me on purpose, had they the notion-- but they TRIED to avoid scaring me. They TRIED to help me, even when it was too late to help the fetus. So I know they aren't evil, either. And more things happened that confirmed my attitude on this over the years, but this was the start of it.

And this is also why I get pissed off at holy rollers or new agers who insist that if I "took it" negatively, or had these negative things happen, I must have deserved it. Explain to me how a straight-A student, virgin, no drugs or drinking, nature loving, nice teenage girl deserves to be traumatized like that? I didn't have negative energy. I was determined and studious and yet compassionate and fun. This shit came to me, I didn't bring it on. I think the main difference is that I, for whatever reason, am able to REMEMBER MORE THAN MOST ABDUCTEES. I think a lot of experiencers out there are basing their guesses on far less-- often just what they hear from others, including pretenders who think this sort of thing is something to be envied and make up bullshit stories. 

It is not. Don't ever envy me. If I've found meaning and value in any of this, its entirely due to MY iron will and positive spiritual outlook. The aliens didn't bring it to me, and I refuse to give them credit for it. I attribute my survival to the amazing human ability to adapt and endure. Anyone who disagrees with me can kiss my ass.

At last I tell the story of the moment when I knew I was interacting with aliens on a regular basis.

It was early to mid August when my world broke apart. My bed was back in the corner where it belonged. Curtains were covering the foot of it, blocking my view of my bedroom door, but putting me in the area furthest from the door, window, and closet door. (All these areas made me nervous.) My insomnia had become entrenched over the summer, and I no longer slept at night at all if I could help it. I prepared as best I could to face each terrifying night alone in my room, not knowing how to explain myself to anyone and so not even bothering to try.

All I knew is that I was scared. I wasn't sure what I was scared of... spirits? Is that what was causing all the nightmares and odd experiences? Demons? Fairies? It seemed like a crazy wild mixture of all these things. If felt like I was paranormally cursed. I couldn't escape from the appeal I apparently held for all these reality anomalies. I felt tormented.

Then one night I had my answer- or at least a part of it.

I was reading Jean Auel's Clan of the Cave Bear for like the 7th time, just trying to keep my mind on something besides my fears. I didn't have a radio on for company, because after the whole radio voices incident of a couple of years before, I was too afraid of what might come through the radio. So, with the window open to a cooling breeze, my family sound asleep, I lay on my bed in comfy summer clothes in full light, propped up against pillows, book in my hand. The side curtains on my bed were wide open, exposing a view of the room, for the benefit of the cool air from the window. It was about 3 am when it happened and I was wide awake.

It was so quick and simple. I was reading when I saw a movement out of the corner of my eye by the corner of my bed. So of course I looked up at it.

... I find it difficult to convey the moment accurately to other people. It was such a short duration of time, but long enough that there could be no mistake about what I was seeing. Everything in my life changed in that quick few seconds of time and I haven't been the same since. If I could point to the most pivotal few seconds of my entire life-- this is IT. I mean, I've seen them while awake since then, but nothing is quite like the shock of the first time an intruding reality is UNDENIABLE.

I saw a face. A half a face-- peering around my bed frame and curtains at the foot of my bed. It wasn't right up next to the curtains, but rather a foot or so back from it, and it had very slowly and carefully moved into a position where it could see me with one eye. Kind of like that scene from the movie Communion, but there's no way to capture the biggest part of what that eye contact is like. I mean, the creep factor is already over the top, but its worse than you might imagine.

Because this guy (and I knew it was male) was telepathic. Just even bare eye contact while I was in a fully conscious state was nearly so overwhelming as to make me feel insane. I knew that I knew that-- THING-- that was staring at me.  But it wasn't a thing. It was a being. An intelligent being that wasn't supposed to exist, but there it was!

[This is from a bust made of a being Betty Andreasson Luca called "Quazgaa"-- which is the closest image to what I saw.]



It had very light gray skin, very smooth. No lips, very flat, small nose (almost unnoticeable), and large, almond-shaped eyes that wrapped around its head (but not too much) WITH black pupils in white, not all-black eyes like most of them.

As I made eye-contact, I could FEEL this being in my head with me on some level. I had an instant feeling of familiarity, and a ghost of many, many memories started to float to the surface. I'd seen this guy before! He was the one who came for me most of the time. I saw him when I was a child --the one who escorted me back after being taken by tall greys in black cowboy hats?-- Yeah, HIM. Same guy. (At the time, I didn't remember that incident of the pajama hybrid kids or the cowboy greys, but now I know its him.)

Looking INTO each other, there was this queer telepathic "echo effect." I could not only feel him in my head and have an instant level of understanding and knowing of what HE was thinking. (Pretty much a supremely cautious approach and incredible alarm and dismay that I had "caught" him-- a definite "uh-oh" reaction of having made a mistake in being seen that was very pronounced.) But I knew that he knew me and remembered me as an individual, and what's more I could feel this instant level of intimate understanding of one another from our interactions over time. Almost like friendship.

And I was babbling in my head, "Oh my god! There's a thing looking at me and it is real. Its really real and its there and oh-my-god I can't believe this! There's a thing and its an.... ALIEN. There's an alien in my room!" Try to imagine saying that really, really fast in your head and saying it over and over again to yourself in a complete panic state-- and that was what I was doing. I could feel him in my head and I knew that he could hear me babbling to myself. I knew he could tell I remembered him a little bit-- that I recognized him. That in those few seconds (2? 3?) that we stared at one another I realized what was behind all the paranormal freakiness in my life. There was an agent of sorts and THIS GUY was a part of it. And I realized the "spirit" attacks were THEM. The feeling of being watched and taken was from THEM. And even my strange fantasies as a kid where I talked to myself about aliens-- weren't fantasies, they were REAL. They were real and HE was real and here he was RIGHT HERE and I was looking at him right now!

The echo went on, although very much faster than I can describe here. I knew his mind. I knew his mind knew my mind. I knew his mind knew my mind was knowing his mind. I could even feel an echo of "others" connected to him somehow. He was connected to a much larger group mind on top of his own individual mind-- and it was like all these consciousnesses were connecting and sort of bouncing off one another really, really fast.

And in those seconds, my entire reality worldview got smashed. It was the most horrific thing I've ever faced. It was so awful that right in that moment I wanted to be dead. Death wasn't as scary as facing this reality and this being. I became seriously suicidal for over a year after this incident. Privately, I battled with myself over whether it was worth it to even live knowing these beings could come and take me and do whatever they wanted and I could never defend myself. Its not that I wanted to die-- its that I couldn't bear the high level of my own fear. The terror and horror were so overwhelming (and I was a scaredy-cat to begin with anyway!) that escape from it by any means, even death, were my utmost priority.

My brain was re-wired into extreme Post Traumatic Stress Disorder that lasted for over 20 years. The worst of the initial trauma was just from those seconds of looking into an alien's eye and feeling it look back into my soul. I felt exposed at a level that is impossible to describe-- worse than naked and oiled up for a feast of cannibals. It wasn't my body that was vulnerable, it was the "me-me" inside my own head. The "me" I know was a teensy, tiny, little squeaking mouse under the shadow of the foot of an enormous elephant that was the mind of this being-- or maybe it plus the group-mind it was connected to. I've never felt so small. Every bit of who I was was known and could not be hidden or held back in any special way-- because there was NO privacy for myself from this being.

(You know, everyone complains about being ultimately alone and often lonely because of it. Let me tell you, after being so completely exposed in this way to other minds in a way that takes that away forever-- COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS.)

What I thought was real was gone. What everyone taught me was real was bullshit. I now KNEW for a fact that something tremendously huge and way beyond me was going on in my life and I was unaware of most of it. Multitudes of possibilities opened up all in a second while I confronted this alien being standing all of only 4 and a half feet tall (I could measure later against my bed-- almost exactly 4'6") and I could not handle it.

Then he left. He moved so fast I saw a trailing streak left in the air like a cartoon or something.

Without thought, I leapt out of bed, flinging my book to the floor. I stood in the center of the room looking at my bedroom door (which had never opened, but I somehow remembered that THEY could go through solid objects, so no door could hold them back.)

And I started screaming.

I don't mean normal yelping, either. I mean a scream had already started a second into seeing the being, and now it was coming out of my throat and mouth almost without my even 'being there' to hear it. I was reacting on automatic. I felt oddly removed from my own noises, and just sort of found myself stuck on the floor screaming my lungs out. It was 3-something in the morning in the summer. I was in a suburban area on a main road with homes closely packed together. I screamed for over an hour. I couldn't stop for a while. I was too afraid to move from my place standing on the floor of my bedroom.

But no one ever woke up.

No one came to check on me. No cars drove past. No neighbors called the police. A high-pitched scream that goes on and on and on is going to attract attention-- and yet it didn't. The longer I screamed and had no response the more desperate and futile I felt. What was going on in the world?

I don't exactly remember when I stopped, but I know I must have before dawn hit with its faint light around 5ish in the morning because it was still dark when I was silent again. I kept watching my clock radio to make sure I didn't skip time. For some reason, I knew to watch for that, and there was no issue there. At last, a car drove past. Then another. I heard my family get up to go to the bathroom like it was a normal morning. But I sat on the floor and cried for a long time.

Nothing was ever normal again.

One wee update: it sure seems coincidental, but helicopters have been buzzing the area where the UFO was seen.

The very next day after the sighting, there were helicopters going over the area-- over and over and over again. Very loud ones, not traffic choppers or police eye-in-the-sky types. Not obvious military ones from what we could see. Every time we saw them they went low and behind the trees before we could snap a pic. (Though we're alert in case any more opportunities arise.)  The fact they kept coming back and going over and over the ground below where the massive bright lights were makes me wonder.