Making like-minded online connections has always been enjoyable for me. I love the idea of an online bestie—someone I grow close to and who grows close to me, sharing much of our lives with the possibility of meeting in person someday. I don’t think I’ll ever have an online friend as close as I had with Aly, but the point is that a close, like-minded friend—someone open-minded, honest, intelligent enough, and at least mostly sane—is a whole different ballgame compared to the general population.
When I compare Aly and a few others in my mind to the average person, well, there really is no comparison. Most people are just so twisted in so many ways. I feel confident in my isolation from them—it keeps me saner and safer. I could go on and on about people’s cruelty, delusions, and unjust ways, but I’ll leave it at that for now.
I woke up surprisingly energetic today, but sure enough, within a few hours, that familiar wave of fatigue washed over me. I felt so relieved when I checked with AI and asked if this could happen with untreated sleep apnea, and it confirmed that it could. That makes more sense than blaming my thyroid since thyroid levels don’t fluctuate that radically. I don’t see why they wouldn’t give me a CPAP, but if, for whatever reason, they don’t, I’m going to need nasal valve surgery. My nose still affects my sleep at times.
I also realized that, for the first time in a long while, I’m actually grateful for my psychic abilities. Most of the time, they feel more like a curse than a blessing. But the recurring moving dreams I’ve been having—no matter how weird—give me hope that this issue will be resolved because we can’t move if it isn’t. I hold onto those dreams and that little bit of hope. If they only happened once in a while, I wouldn’t think much of them. And if we were as desperate to get out of here as we were in our last place, I might assume they were just reflections of my thoughts. But I really think these are signs. We adventurers have moved many times to many places, and these are the kinds of dreams I’ve always started having as it got close. Or close enough anyway, like within a few years.
I had many dreams last night, although I don’t remember the details. One of them must have been bad because I vaguely remember waking up scared, with my heart racing.
Back to the subject of cyber friends—someone’s entry about haunted dolls got me thinking and curious. I might have laughed at the idea years ago, but experience has taught me to keep an open mind, and now I definitely want to get one to see if I notice any difference in my life. A quick check showed they range in size and cost anywhere from $25 to hundreds of dollars. There was a cheap one I liked in Germany, but the shipping costs more than the doll itself. Besides, I don’t want just any doll—I want one that’s at least somewhat aesthetically pleasing. I don’t want some ugly heap of crap sitting around just because it’s said to be haunted.
With not much money at the moment and other priorities, it may be a while before I get one. Apparently, some have backstories (who haunts the doll and at least some of what happened to them when they lived) and there are ways to communicate with them as well, but I’m still not sure I believe in that sort of thing—or that I’d even know how to communicate with them, assuming we really do live on somehow after death. Most of them are said to contain positive energy, but I was surprised to find a few with negative energy. Who the hell would want to buy a doll with negative energy?
Later…
Ouch! Doing a belly flop on a waterbed can be just as uncomfortable as doing one in a pool.
Anyway, I thought I’d take the time to write about the horrible nightmare I had. Oh, I had anything but dreams of moving last night. I slept pretty shitty, and I’m surprised I even have this much energy today.
The dream felt so vivid and real that it made me wonder if I slipped into another dimension and saw an alternate version of Tom and me. I’ve always believed the multiverse is more plausible than most other theories. It definitely wasn’t one of those senseless, disjointed dreams we all have.
In the dream, we owned a two-story house and lived somewhere that got a lot of snow—neither of which will ever be the case in reality. I was downstairs, and Tom was upstairs in a room, either watching TV on his computer or fiddling with electronics, as he often does.
I heard a commotion outside. It was early evening, but the streetlights illuminated a car stuck in the snow at the foot of our driveway. A guy in his fifties appeared to own the car and what I assumed were his kids, were trying to help. He saw me through the window, smiled, and called out, “Well, I know someone’s home.”
I smiled back and raised my index finger, signaling him to wait a moment while I unlocked the door. I mentioned noticing his car was stuck and said that ours was in the garage. His expression turned disappointed when I said that, but I quickly clarified that I meant our home garage, not an auto repair shop.
He then mentioned some part of his car that was broken, so I told him to hang on a minute because Tom would know more about that sort of thing. I went to the foot of the stairs and called up to Tom. When he didn’t answer right away, I figured he had his headphones on and that I’d have to go up to get his attention. But a moment later, he responded with an almost irritated “What?” in a tone that clearly said he didn’t appreciate being interrupted.
I told him to come downstairs, and a second later, he was standing beside me. That’s when, without being invited in, the guy stepped into our living room. Then, out of nowhere, a huge knife appeared in one hand and a coil of rope in the other.
Tom just stared at him, dumbfounded, while I could sense that his first thought was, This is what you dragged me downstairs for?
“But it seemed so real!” I stammered, realizing it was just a ruse. “The whole thing about the car being stuck and the kids trying to help!”
I woke up at that point, and hopefully, if this really happened in another place and time, being two against one meant we saved our asses in the end.
My TMJ has been really bad lately, and I don’t know why. I’ve been doing the exercises and taking ibuprofen, but nothing is helping.
Robert is the best dev ever. I asked him for a list of the songs on a few of the new stations because I heard one I liked and couldn’t remember the name of it. I found it on a Google Doc he shared with me.
Melanie, the 30-something woman in Ohio who believes in past lives which she said she remembers, also said something that really resonated with me. She’s the one who got the haunted dolls to help with her mediumship, and she also has an EMF reader—something ghost hunters use. What really struck me was that after I asked her how she knew a doll was giving off positive energy versus negative, she said she could usually tell just from looking at a picture of one.
This immediately brought me back to my old celebrity pictures and the feeling that something inhabited them, that the pictures were simply a vessel in which some entity of some kind communicated with me and fully understood everything I said and what was going on around them. It confirmed even more that I wasn’t crazy after all. While logic told me it wasn’t possible and that it was just my way of dealing with the abuse and isolation I suffered, I knew deep down that it was something more—much more. I just didn’t know what, and I still don’t.
Anyway, I shared a handful of pics of my own dolls, and she commented on a couple of them, saying she got a lot of energy from Jade. Positive, I hope—LOL. Where would the energy come from, though, since she never belonged to anyone else before me? I bought her as a kit. Her body parts would have had to pick up the energy if she really does have any. They say any object can be haunted, not just dolls.
As I was searching through haunted dolls for sale, I wondered if I would see any I have or had, and I did see one I had. Plus, there are some dolls by a particular doll artist that I’ve had before. I don’t think I have any right now, but I know I’ve sold at least one of hers.
I read about the different ways people believe dolls can become haunted—residual energy, spiritual attachment, rituals, etc. Maybe I’ll have one of my own someday—LOL.
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