Only When I Sleep
by: Ruth Marie Davis email@example.com
*Editor's Notation: If you haven't already may I suggest that you order Ruth's New book called The Reclamation Project, I'm sure you won't be disappointed. I thank Ruth for giving some insight into the visitations that she has been experiencing, this will help her and others to slowly come out and testify to what has been happening, and that maybe one day we will find out and have the smoking gun proof to these strange happenings...
To start out with, I have lived with 'sleep paralysis' since I was about six years old (at least that's my earliest actual memory of it).
The first time it happened, I thought I had died. My mind was fully awake, I could even open my eyes into a squint and make out the bedroom door...but my body absolutely would not obey the commands of my mind and refused to move.
There was a figure in the doorway and I thought my sister was coming into the room to crawl in bed with me, but then I realized that whoever was in the doorway was built more like me...skinny with long arms and legs...my sister was pudgy.
I remember though that the realization it wasn't my sister was not the foremost thing on my mind...THAT was trying to get my body to move. The next thing I remember, it was morning and my mother was waking me up to get ready for school. I was incredibly tired...so tired that I felt I hadn't slept in a week...and very groggy.
At breakfast, I was very disturbed about the events of the night before...again, not so much about the figure in the doorway, but the fact that I had been unable to move. I have always been strong willed...and continue to be so even now. I don't like NOT being able to do anything I set my mind to. I vowed if it happened again, I would overcome it.
It did happen again...and again, and again. I was in my teens when I finally learned how to wake myself up. I would concentrate every bit of energy I had on one digit of my body...usually the big toe on my right foot. I would force myself with every ounce of willpower I possessed to wiggle my toe. Once I was able to wiggle my toe, I could shake my leg a bit and force my body awake.
One night, when I was about thirteen, I was awakened by voices in my room. There was much whispering at the foot of my bed but I couldn't make out any of the words. My body would not move though my mind was instantly awake. I began to concentrate on my toe and then to shake my leg until I was able to sit up.
My room was very dark with only the slightest bit of difused light coming in through the window. I sat up and tried to scream for my parents but couldn't even make my voice squeek. Finally, I gathered as much courage as I could muster and bolted from the bed. On my way to the door, something brushed my left arm. I ran down the hall, finding my voice and screaming for all I was worth. I didn't knock on my parents' door (a VERY strict rule in our house), but pushed through it and threw myself on their bed. I told my father there was someone in my room, and he jumped out of bed and ran to my room...stark naked (hence, the knocking rule).
My mother sat on the bed and tried to calm me down. When my father returned and announced there wasn't a soul in the house and that everything was locked up tight, my mother began to question me about whether or not I was taking drugs (I wasn't). I begged them to let me sleep on a cot in their room but they refused and told me I was a big girl and should go back to my own bed. I kept the light on for the rest of the night and read the bible until I finally fell to sleep near dawn.
Events of this nature continued to occur throughout my adulthood...though I can't say I actually ever SAW an alien creature. It wasn't until about four months ago that I had an experience that still frightens me to think about. I told my husband when we first got married about my sleep paralysis and that should he hear me utter a sound in my sleep that he was to shake me awake immediately. I haven't mentioned it thus far, but this condition is frightening each and every time it happens. Anyway, it was a hot June night and my husband and I had fallen to sleep with the window open and the television on. I don't know what time it was, though I imagine some time in the wee hours of the morning. I suddenly woke up...that is to say, my mind did...my body however, would not move. I was turned away from the window toward my husband, and he was sleeping on his back. I opened my eyes and the first thing I noticed were the bright lights on the wall opposite me. They were very bright white and seemed to dance all over the white wall. The room was lit up like daytime and I remember thinking that maybe something was on the television and reflecting off the walls, but it didn't stop as one would expect when a scene changes on TV...the lights continued to dance.
I was trying desperately to wiggle my toe and to make a sound that might wake up my husband. It was then that I noticed the shadow on the wall where the lights were bouncing around. The lights did not cross the shadow so it seemed that their source must have been behind it (the television was across the room in the other direction). At that very moment, my husband opened his eyes, turned his head slightly toward me, looked at something behind me and said, as though he had expected me to be awake and said, "Ruth, I think I just saw an angel." At that moment I knew. I knew with all my being that I had been experiencing visits, though I didn't seem them as visits from angels.
My husband's perception in that area differs from my own. (This is what really caught my attention about Carleen's story, when she stated that her mate believed in demons and such). I can remember saying to him then, "Oh, God, don't let them take us again." Then I think I started crying. That was my last conscience memory...and then it was morning and my husband was waking me up (he's a very early riser). I didn't say anything to him because somehow I KNEW he would say that he didn't know what I was talking about...I KNEW he would have no memory of it and would think I was crazy.
That afternoon, we were driving to the video store and I had been thinking about the night before literally all day long. I couldn't hold the thought back any longer and just asked him point blank, "Do you remember anything about last night?" He turned to me and replied, "You remember it too?" I was literally stunned. Then we started talking about it and we couldn't seem to stop. We talked about it for three or four days non-stop...we went over it a million times...he still thinking he saw an angel or a ghost, me still believing it was a very close encounter.
This in and of itself could undoubtedly be explained away by some scientific means but there are other things that when viewed with regard to this scenario, make things even more frightening. When I was a teenager, my periods were never regular, and sometimes I would go for two or three months without one. And when I was fifteen, I had what I can only explain as what seemed to be a miscarraige, though I was still a virgin. My daughter is now seventeen years old. She too, has difficult periods and goes for two months without one. On her sixteenth birthday, I finally broke down and let her get her belly-button pierced. I didn't like the idea but wanted to be a 'trooper' and took her into the salon, holding her hand while the piercing took place and a small, metal hoop was inserted.
The young man who performed the deed advised that the hoop would have to remain in for several months until the piercing healed. Then, if my daughter wanted to change the belly-button ring, she would have to use two pair of plyers...one to hold the ring, and the other to dislodge the backing. He said there was no way on earth the hoop could come off otherwise. The morning after her seventeenth birthday (June 3, 2001), my daughter came into my room and advised that something weird had happened. She said that she had awoken that morning without her retainer in her mouth. She found it on the floor between her bed and her bedroom window. She said what was even more strange is that the hoop belly-button ring (which she had never changed), was gone. It wasn't in her belly-button, it wasn't in the bed clothes or under the bed...it was just gone.
We went down that afternoon and bought another one and had it re-inserted. This time it was a woman who assisted us. When we told her about the first ring coming out, she looked at us as though we were lying. She said she'd never heard of one 'just coming out' because they were hella' hard to get out when you WANTED to remove them. Nonetheless, my daughter chose a new one and we had it inserted in her naval. Three days later, she came into my room with a shocked look on her face. She has just woke up and discovered that her belly-button ring was no longer in her naval. This time she found it in her bedsheets, but there was no backing. The really bizarre part of the whole thing is that the piercing was completely healed closed. Completely. There was scar material where the piercing had been for a solid year.
Now, four months later, my daughter can no longer wear a naval ring...she would have to have the piercing done all over again and says she doesn't want to go through it a second time. Anyway, I haven't told a soul about this, other than Tim, and I've never met him face-to-face either.
My husband and I made a pact not to tell any of our friends for fear they would think we were crazy. Until my recent medical retirement (due to a back injury), I held the position of County Veterans Services Representative for twenty years. I could not afford to have my credibility or integrity damaged should such a story get out. I have even written some of these things into the novel I am currently writing...'The Abduction of India Stone.' I went back over the work I had already completed on it and wrote in the character having a disappearing naval ring. Also, a few weeks after the June incident, I was enjoying my bi-weekly, deep-tissue, back massage.
The masseuse always massages my legs and feet as well. That day, she stopped in the middle of massaging my left foot and asked me what was on the bottom of it. I don't normally look at the bottom of my feet, but I sat up and did so then. There was a crescent shaped area of raised, hardned blisters on the soul of my foot. A perfect crescent shape. This remained on my foot for nearly a month before it finally began to diminish and then disappear entirely. Anyway, I can't help but wonder if this is the reason for my life long quest for knowledge about aliens and my need to write sci-fi books about them. Who knows?
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