For as long as I can remember, I’ve been a dreamer in both figurative and literal senses. Every single night when I close my eyes, I enter another dimension in a fully immersive experience. My mom shares this ability, and as a child, I would often come across the notebooks she kept next to her bed with scribbles of what she was able to remember. The ability to remember my dreams has often made it difficult to distinguish reality from fantasy, which would make the experiences that followed even more bizarre, as they would happen in the wake of day. I started to feel a presence around me. I would begin dealing with an increased level of anxiety, and moments of sleep paralysis would occur with my eyes wide open. Shadows in the night seemed to take a different shape, and with all of my research into demonic entities in the entertainment world, I started to feel as though I was being groomed into position by something I couldn’t see. Between dealing with the effects of being disfellowshipped from the church and never officially “closing out” our ouija board experience, I started to take pride in the fact that I was “worthy” of the spiritual attention, and my ego would grow every day.
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