Being Sensitive and what goes with it.
Hi!
I’ve had some people show interest in the fact I’m a sensitive. So... I asked the mod if I could post some information (what I know so far) about it here to answer everyone at once, and at the same time include some experiences I’ve had with it.
First off, I was not aware what was going on with me until I was in my early 20s. In my early teens I thought maybe I could be psychic so my cousin and I read up on it at the library and tried the whole testing with cards that had wriggly lines or squares or something like that. We even tried collectively concentrating on a cupboard door across the room to make it open. Okay, that one we didn’t really have much luck with, but the cards thing I rocked at. Out of 24 tries I’d get like 22. If I was distracted or not into it I’d get maybe 13.
I was about 15 or 16 when I realized that sometimes my gut gave me very strong feelings. Someone called it ‘tugging’, and that’s a very apt description. You feel this pull towards something, or away from something. I could often tell who was calling before answering the phone, and as soon as I’d touch the receiver I’d get this strong sense that the person on the other side was upset, or in a really good mood. I can still do that today. Sometimes I’ll suddenly dream of someone, or think of them, or say their name accidentally instead of someone else’s then within days I’d either run into that person I thought of, or I’d hear from them or about them. So now I know if someone from my past suddenly pops into my dreams or thoughts that it’s for a reason.
My biological father comes from an Algonquin Indian heritage (as well as Irish and Anglo-Saxon) and one night when I was ten years old I had this dream. In it, I sat alone by a fire, the shadows of the night so deep that I couldn’t see beyond the circle of light from the fire. Out of that deep darkness came a large silvery-white wolf. It leapt over the fire and at me. I jumped up, screaming, but instead of mauling me it entered me. When I looked up there stood an old native and I knew he was my great(x10)-grandfather. He told me that the wolf who had entered me would guide me in life. He also told me that whenever I needed him I need only call to him, and he would come. He said all this in Algonquin, a language I do not know at all, but for some reason understood perfectly. I believe it’s because of my father’s heritage, and my mother’s (Celtic and Nordic) that I have this ‘talent’. After all, they are old magical heritages. Big on paganism and magic and lore.
I was about 19 the first time I took a near freak-out while traveling in a car. Thankfully I wasn’t driving. I was the passenger, in the back seat, and it was late in the evening. It was summer and the sun was down with the horizon blazing red. We were heading home, and the route included this hill affectionately called Ghost Hill. I didn’t know the history of it that night. I only knew that I was half dozing, and suddenly I heard a horse scream, and I got a flash image of a cart tumbling down the bottom of the hill. I felt absolute panic and terror. For a wild moment I felt like my throat was closed up and my chest didn’t work properly. I couldn’t breathe. I seriously wanted to force the car to a stop and fall out of it, clawing at my own throat until I could puncture a hole to get air through. The sensation was so strong that for a wild moment I lost myself. Once we drove down the hill and further away the sensation lessened, and when we went around a turn it was gone and I was left feeling totally exhausted. I never told because I didn’t want anyone to think I was crazy. I did ask my step-dad why they called it Ghost Hill. He said a priest was killed one night heading home after staying with one of his parishioners who was gravely ill. The sick person lived, the priest climbed into his wagon, and as they neared the hill something spooked the horse. It bolted, speeding down the hill, and the wagon flipped at the bottom, atop the priest. The fall broke his neck. Supposedly a priest should be buried where he died. If not his spirit cannot rest and they haunt the place of their death until their remains are exhumed and re-buried at the site. And, of course, they did not bury him there. His remains were sent back to his hometown overseas. Needless to say, I sat stunned. I hate that hill. Going up or down it, I always get that choking breathlessness even if I cling desperately to the walls I built up to try to keep things out of my mind.
Night paralysis. I’m sure you’ve heard of it, or experienced it. When a nightmare feels so real and you cannot move. Not an inch. You start to feel panic. You’re awake, and you swear you’re being pinned to the bed. I’ve had this a few times. Not very often, thank goodness. It really is terrifying. Once was when I was 14. My baby sister, baby brother and I were staying with my aunt, uncle and their many children while my mother was away finding a job and new home for us after our father passed. I was napping one afternoon when suddenly my dream turned to a nightmare about a demon in flames that spoke in a language I did not understand. His voice was low, guttural and scared the bejeebus out me. One thing he said that I did understand, but it wasn’t until I made myself wake up and move that I understood it, was when he said “I will burn the flesh off you”. I woke up in a sweat, feeling sick to my stomach. My skin actually felt hot. My aunt thought I was coming down with something and gave me Tylenol for my fever. Maybe it was a fever induced dream, but if it was my fever didn’t return.
Another time was just a few years ago. Now, for this I have to explain that I am pagan. I do believe in God. I just believe there is more than one. (points up to my ancestry mentioned above) In a reply to someone else’s post I mentioned that my niece is autistic with some schizophrenia. Though sometimes my sister and I think the voice she hears is more... evil. It literally made her stop eating for a month. She lost a lot of weight; her skin was paper thin, dry and grey. We tried to feed her the things she normally could never turn down and she would salivate she wanted it so bad! She was starving, you could see it! She literally looked like death. Then it was like a wall slammed down and her eyes would go blank. She’d turn away and whisper painfully she wasn’t hungry. We finally found out a man was telling her if she ate he would kill her mother. My sister took her to the hospital for the tenth time (they kept saying when she was hungry she would eat.) and this time a psyche doc put her on meds. The voice went away, she started to eat. But she was only on it for a while. The voice comes back on occasion, I think, but she doesn’t tell us anymore.
Anyway, the place where I worked closed down and there were no other jobs to be had. My sister took myself and my youngest daughter in. My oldest was old enough to be on her own and lived with her boyfriend’s family. Because there wasn’t much room I shared a bed with my sister. This was twofold: to teach my niece to sleep in her own room and not with her mother, and because as adults we wanted to be able to stay up late and watch the shows we liked that were not child appropriate and just have long talks and giggles like we used to. After a month of being there, my niece getting more and more agitated that I wouldn’t sleep elsewhere so she could sleep with her mother. Seriously, my sister couldn’t even go to the bathroom without my niece literally waiting at the door for her to come out continuously talking to her and asking her if she was done yet! She couldn’t bathe alone. My niece sat in the bathroom to be near her. It was creeping my sister out. One night I woke up, but I couldn’t see. It was like being blind. I couldn’t move, but I felt myself sliding sideways. It felt like two clawed hands reached up from beside the bed and were slowly pulling me towards the edge. I started to panic. I couldn’t breathe. I KNEW without a doubt if I hit the floor that I was dead. I knew that something under the bed wanted me, and I couldn’t let it pull me off the bed. I struggled and inwardly screamed as I concentrated with everything I had to move even one finger towards my sister or make my voice work and shout to her. If I could wake her she could turn on the bedside lamp and she could help me. All I had to do was concentrate. Finally I moved a finger, and that seemed to help. I got a hand free, and I reached for her hand. She woke up, worried at the grip I had on her. She turned on the light, and said I lay board stiff, half off the edge of the bed. I unfroze, but I couldn’t sleep for the rest of the night. And that’s not the worst part. The very next night it happened again. This time I was able to open my eyes. Those clawed hands had me by the side again. I couldn’t move or speak. At the foot of the bed stood a tall shadow, darker than the rest of the dark room. I heard its voice in my head saying, “you won’t get away tonight.” This time I was ready. I didn’t let myself panic. Not yet. I woke up earlier this time, and though I still felt that threat from under the bed I was still securely in my spot on the bed. I couldn’t talk out loud, but I could think. “I’m stronger than you,” I thought. It laughed at me. I kept saying it, “I’m stronger than you.” It kept laughing. Then, out of nowhere, I shouted, “Goddess give me strength!” I scared the hell out of my sister who sat up suddenly, confused. The shadow screamed at me and disappeared, and the hands were gone. I was gasping. Now I could cry. Two nights in a row. This wasn’t normal.
My sister and I think my niece created a poltergeist or some kind of entity with her anger and hatred and anxiety. That, or whatever voice she heard a year later that told her not to eat had been with her longer than we thought and told her it would help her get rid of me so she could have her mom back again. Next night my eldest daughter (who was visiting), my sister and I decided to ask whatever it was what it wanted, and why it wanted me. We sat in a circle on the bed, herbs, sage and salt around us, candles lit, crystals on us. We all felt it, circling around us, toying with us. It even dared to touch my hair and lift it. It stroked my eldest on the back. It never answered us. I told it that with the Goddess’ strength we order it to leave. It was not welcome in our home. It was not welcome near any of us. We felt it leave. It hasn’t been back, thankfully, but you never know what the future holds.
Sensitives are like magnets, unfortunately. As are people with chinks in their armour (so to speak). Alcoholics, drug addicts, mentally disabled, criminals... These are chinks in the armour. Darkness looks for these chinks. Sensitives don’t have chinks unless they have one of those above, but they have something else. A light slightly brighter than other lights, in a way. There’s a reason why they hear or see spirits more easily. Sometimes it’s not just that we can, it’s that they can feel us and they gravitate to us like moths to a flame. That’s why it’s so important to learn to differentiate between our own emotions and those from the outside. It’s why it’s so important to learn to protect ourselves. We can be sensitive and not be so vulnerable. Imagine building a brick wall that surrounds you. There is no door. There is no window. You can imagine one there as needed, but don’t put it there all the time. When you feel something unwanted you can slam that wall into place. Meditation can help. Help you to concentrate on the YOU, to know the sound and feel of the YOU so that when you feel something suddenly you can know if it is you or not. When afraid imagine a light. A bright pinpoint of golden light. As you focus on it reach a hand up and ‘wipe’ the fear and darkness away. Shake your hand as if ‘throwing’ it off. Keep doing it, seeing the light spread and glow brighter. Eventually the dark is gone, and you are surrounded by warm, secure light. Say a mantra as you do this if it helps. “Away the darkness, leave peace and light” is one I like to say.
Anyway, sorry this is so long. I didn’t intend for it to be. I hope it helped some of you. Any questions, feel free to ask. I don’t pretend to know everything, but I can tell you that after a good 38 years of paranormal experiences I try to learn as much as I can to protect myself and those I love.
I’ve had some people show interest in the fact I’m a sensitive. So... I asked the mod if I could post some information (what I know so far) about it here to answer everyone at once, and at the same time include some experiences I’ve had with it.
First off, I was not aware what was going on with me until I was in my early 20s. In my early teens I thought maybe I could be psychic so my cousin and I read up on it at the library and tried the whole testing with cards that had wriggly lines or squares or something like that. We even tried collectively concentrating on a cupboard door across the room to make it open. Okay, that one we didn’t really have much luck with, but the cards thing I rocked at. Out of 24 tries I’d get like 22. If I was distracted or not into it I’d get maybe 13.
I was about 15 or 16 when I realized that sometimes my gut gave me very strong feelings. Someone called it ‘tugging’, and that’s a very apt description. You feel this pull towards something, or away from something. I could often tell who was calling before answering the phone, and as soon as I’d touch the receiver I’d get this strong sense that the person on the other side was upset, or in a really good mood. I can still do that today. Sometimes I’ll suddenly dream of someone, or think of them, or say their name accidentally instead of someone else’s then within days I’d either run into that person I thought of, or I’d hear from them or about them. So now I know if someone from my past suddenly pops into my dreams or thoughts that it’s for a reason.
My biological father comes from an Algonquin Indian heritage (as well as Irish and Anglo-Saxon) and one night when I was ten years old I had this dream. In it, I sat alone by a fire, the shadows of the night so deep that I couldn’t see beyond the circle of light from the fire. Out of that deep darkness came a large silvery-white wolf. It leapt over the fire and at me. I jumped up, screaming, but instead of mauling me it entered me. When I looked up there stood an old native and I knew he was my great(x10)-grandfather. He told me that the wolf who had entered me would guide me in life. He also told me that whenever I needed him I need only call to him, and he would come. He said all this in Algonquin, a language I do not know at all, but for some reason understood perfectly. I believe it’s because of my father’s heritage, and my mother’s (Celtic and Nordic) that I have this ‘talent’. After all, they are old magical heritages. Big on paganism and magic and lore.
I was about 19 the first time I took a near freak-out while traveling in a car. Thankfully I wasn’t driving. I was the passenger, in the back seat, and it was late in the evening. It was summer and the sun was down with the horizon blazing red. We were heading home, and the route included this hill affectionately called Ghost Hill. I didn’t know the history of it that night. I only knew that I was half dozing, and suddenly I heard a horse scream, and I got a flash image of a cart tumbling down the bottom of the hill. I felt absolute panic and terror. For a wild moment I felt like my throat was closed up and my chest didn’t work properly. I couldn’t breathe. I seriously wanted to force the car to a stop and fall out of it, clawing at my own throat until I could puncture a hole to get air through. The sensation was so strong that for a wild moment I lost myself. Once we drove down the hill and further away the sensation lessened, and when we went around a turn it was gone and I was left feeling totally exhausted. I never told because I didn’t want anyone to think I was crazy. I did ask my step-dad why they called it Ghost Hill. He said a priest was killed one night heading home after staying with one of his parishioners who was gravely ill. The sick person lived, the priest climbed into his wagon, and as they neared the hill something spooked the horse. It bolted, speeding down the hill, and the wagon flipped at the bottom, atop the priest. The fall broke his neck. Supposedly a priest should be buried where he died. If not his spirit cannot rest and they haunt the place of their death until their remains are exhumed and re-buried at the site. And, of course, they did not bury him there. His remains were sent back to his hometown overseas. Needless to say, I sat stunned. I hate that hill. Going up or down it, I always get that choking breathlessness even if I cling desperately to the walls I built up to try to keep things out of my mind.
Night paralysis. I’m sure you’ve heard of it, or experienced it. When a nightmare feels so real and you cannot move. Not an inch. You start to feel panic. You’re awake, and you swear you’re being pinned to the bed. I’ve had this a few times. Not very often, thank goodness. It really is terrifying. Once was when I was 14. My baby sister, baby brother and I were staying with my aunt, uncle and their many children while my mother was away finding a job and new home for us after our father passed. I was napping one afternoon when suddenly my dream turned to a nightmare about a demon in flames that spoke in a language I did not understand. His voice was low, guttural and scared the bejeebus out me. One thing he said that I did understand, but it wasn’t until I made myself wake up and move that I understood it, was when he said “I will burn the flesh off you”. I woke up in a sweat, feeling sick to my stomach. My skin actually felt hot. My aunt thought I was coming down with something and gave me Tylenol for my fever. Maybe it was a fever induced dream, but if it was my fever didn’t return.
Another time was just a few years ago. Now, for this I have to explain that I am pagan. I do believe in God. I just believe there is more than one. (points up to my ancestry mentioned above) In a reply to someone else’s post I mentioned that my niece is autistic with some schizophrenia. Though sometimes my sister and I think the voice she hears is more... evil. It literally made her stop eating for a month. She lost a lot of weight; her skin was paper thin, dry and grey. We tried to feed her the things she normally could never turn down and she would salivate she wanted it so bad! She was starving, you could see it! She literally looked like death. Then it was like a wall slammed down and her eyes would go blank. She’d turn away and whisper painfully she wasn’t hungry. We finally found out a man was telling her if she ate he would kill her mother. My sister took her to the hospital for the tenth time (they kept saying when she was hungry she would eat.) and this time a psyche doc put her on meds. The voice went away, she started to eat. But she was only on it for a while. The voice comes back on occasion, I think, but she doesn’t tell us anymore.
Anyway, the place where I worked closed down and there were no other jobs to be had. My sister took myself and my youngest daughter in. My oldest was old enough to be on her own and lived with her boyfriend’s family. Because there wasn’t much room I shared a bed with my sister. This was twofold: to teach my niece to sleep in her own room and not with her mother, and because as adults we wanted to be able to stay up late and watch the shows we liked that were not child appropriate and just have long talks and giggles like we used to. After a month of being there, my niece getting more and more agitated that I wouldn’t sleep elsewhere so she could sleep with her mother. Seriously, my sister couldn’t even go to the bathroom without my niece literally waiting at the door for her to come out continuously talking to her and asking her if she was done yet! She couldn’t bathe alone. My niece sat in the bathroom to be near her. It was creeping my sister out. One night I woke up, but I couldn’t see. It was like being blind. I couldn’t move, but I felt myself sliding sideways. It felt like two clawed hands reached up from beside the bed and were slowly pulling me towards the edge. I started to panic. I couldn’t breathe. I KNEW without a doubt if I hit the floor that I was dead. I knew that something under the bed wanted me, and I couldn’t let it pull me off the bed. I struggled and inwardly screamed as I concentrated with everything I had to move even one finger towards my sister or make my voice work and shout to her. If I could wake her she could turn on the bedside lamp and she could help me. All I had to do was concentrate. Finally I moved a finger, and that seemed to help. I got a hand free, and I reached for her hand. She woke up, worried at the grip I had on her. She turned on the light, and said I lay board stiff, half off the edge of the bed. I unfroze, but I couldn’t sleep for the rest of the night. And that’s not the worst part. The very next night it happened again. This time I was able to open my eyes. Those clawed hands had me by the side again. I couldn’t move or speak. At the foot of the bed stood a tall shadow, darker than the rest of the dark room. I heard its voice in my head saying, “you won’t get away tonight.” This time I was ready. I didn’t let myself panic. Not yet. I woke up earlier this time, and though I still felt that threat from under the bed I was still securely in my spot on the bed. I couldn’t talk out loud, but I could think. “I’m stronger than you,” I thought. It laughed at me. I kept saying it, “I’m stronger than you.” It kept laughing. Then, out of nowhere, I shouted, “Goddess give me strength!” I scared the hell out of my sister who sat up suddenly, confused. The shadow screamed at me and disappeared, and the hands were gone. I was gasping. Now I could cry. Two nights in a row. This wasn’t normal.
My sister and I think my niece created a poltergeist or some kind of entity with her anger and hatred and anxiety. That, or whatever voice she heard a year later that told her not to eat had been with her longer than we thought and told her it would help her get rid of me so she could have her mom back again. Next night my eldest daughter (who was visiting), my sister and I decided to ask whatever it was what it wanted, and why it wanted me. We sat in a circle on the bed, herbs, sage and salt around us, candles lit, crystals on us. We all felt it, circling around us, toying with us. It even dared to touch my hair and lift it. It stroked my eldest on the back. It never answered us. I told it that with the Goddess’ strength we order it to leave. It was not welcome in our home. It was not welcome near any of us. We felt it leave. It hasn’t been back, thankfully, but you never know what the future holds.
Sensitives are like magnets, unfortunately. As are people with chinks in their armour (so to speak). Alcoholics, drug addicts, mentally disabled, criminals... These are chinks in the armour. Darkness looks for these chinks. Sensitives don’t have chinks unless they have one of those above, but they have something else. A light slightly brighter than other lights, in a way. There’s a reason why they hear or see spirits more easily. Sometimes it’s not just that we can, it’s that they can feel us and they gravitate to us like moths to a flame. That’s why it’s so important to learn to differentiate between our own emotions and those from the outside. It’s why it’s so important to learn to protect ourselves. We can be sensitive and not be so vulnerable. Imagine building a brick wall that surrounds you. There is no door. There is no window. You can imagine one there as needed, but don’t put it there all the time. When you feel something unwanted you can slam that wall into place. Meditation can help. Help you to concentrate on the YOU, to know the sound and feel of the YOU so that when you feel something suddenly you can know if it is you or not. When afraid imagine a light. A bright pinpoint of golden light. As you focus on it reach a hand up and ‘wipe’ the fear and darkness away. Shake your hand as if ‘throwing’ it off. Keep doing it, seeing the light spread and glow brighter. Eventually the dark is gone, and you are surrounded by warm, secure light. Say a mantra as you do this if it helps. “Away the darkness, leave peace and light” is one I like to say.
Anyway, sorry this is so long. I didn’t intend for it to be. I hope it helped some of you. Any questions, feel free to ask. I don’t pretend to know everything, but I can tell you that after a good 38 years of paranormal experiences I try to learn as much as I can to protect myself and those I love.