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Chapter One: ‘Childhood Memories’

By on November 24, 2017

Over the years of visiting psychics and mediums I’ve often been told that I am going to write a book, in fact one woman was very specific and told me I would write three books. It has come up so often in psychic readings with different readers that I figured it can’t be a coincidence. So I recently decided to at least attempt to start writing one and to stick with it no matter how bad I feel it is. The book will consist of my own personal experiences with OBE’s, Spirits, Psychedelics and Extraterrestrials and below is an extremely rough draft of the first chapter on my childhood – I hope to add more to the introduction later. At the moment I am just writing as much as I can and hope that the pieces will eventually fall into place.

Chapter 1

I find it peculiar how some of my earliest childhood memories have somehow managed to stay with me, imprinted in my memory with crystal like precision and yet if you asked me what I had for dinner this day last week I would have absolutely no idea. A good example of this is of the day I was born. According to my birth certificate I was born on March 10th, 1986 at 4.30pm. My earliest memory literally begins later on that evening. I recall being cradled in my mother’s arms and have vivid memories of the hospital room in which we were staying for the night. It was a narrow length dimly lit private room, with a dreary brownish coloured tint to the walls and a tall rectangular window to the left of us. I remember how my father used to pop in and out every so often with a magazine clutched in his hand. I have confirmed all of these details with both parents. Oddly enough I also have a memory of loitering around outside the hospital by myself that very same night. I was outside near a long window and entrance to the building which I can still see in my mind’s eye. While still wrapped up in my mother’s arms my consciousness seemed to have gone for a little stroll around the building by itself.

Another early childhood memory which vividly comes to mind is that of a family trip we took to the planetarium. It was here my family and I sat down in a darkened room underneath a large projector screen as it took us all on a stunning 3-D journey through the solar system and cosmos. As I sat there wide-eyed in my seat, with my gaze directed upward toward the screen which covered the entire ceiling I was stunned into a state of complete awe at the sheer magnificence of the universe and the utter vastness of space although at the same time I could also feel a strong sense of sadness inside. I was sad because I was enjoying my day so much that I didn’t want to ever forget the experience, I didn’t want the universe that was being displayed on the screen above me to ever stop existing and as I sat stuck to my seat I thought to myself “When I die, this is all going to be gone, the stars, the planets, my family, my friends, everything”. Just before it was time to leave I recall going into the gift shop where my parents bought me a small piece of meteorite which I had my eye on as a souvenir. Anytime I held this tiny tektite I used to think of the incredible journey it must have gone through and for it to finally end up in my hands seemed fascinating to me. I kept it stored away in a safe place for years after.

I used to think about death a lot as a child, which thinking about it now was probably not the ‘norm’ for a kid growing up in Ireland in the nineties but I learned how to hide my thoughts extremely well. While out playing football with friends there would often be quiet moments where I would wander off by myself and lie down on the grass away from everybody else. Staring up at the sky I pondered the same kind of ideas that I had in the planetarium — “This is such a wonderful place, I’m having so much fun here and when I die it will all be gone”. The idea of experiencing nothing but pure emptiness, pure darkness or blackness after death used to freak my entire being. I lay on the grass imagining what it must feel like not being able to see, not being able to feel, to hear or even worse, to breathe ever again. There were brief instances in those moments I lay on the grass where I definitely drifted into non-ordinary states of consciousness, where time seemed to slow way down and sometimes even appeared to be non-existent. Meanwhile in the distance I could still hear the faint chirps and chatter of my friends having a great time.

As a child bedtime was especially not a favourite time for me. In fact I dreaded the thought of being left alone in my bedroom at night because it was then that the really unusual stuff would begin to occur. Firstly I would notice a build-up of heavy whitish grey energy appearing almost like smoke in the top corner of my room. This energy would swirl and roll along onto the next corner of my room, back and forth, back and forth building up size as it moved along until eventually it grew to roughly the size and shape of a tennis ball. Once this first ball finished forming more smoky energy would appear and go through the exact same process. I spent nights upon nights staring at these swirling balls of energy and waiting in constant terror because I knew what to expect next. Once about three or four of these energy balls formed they would slowly make their way down the corners of my room onto my bedroom floor and from there they would quickly dart under my bed. Soon after I would be greeted by almost gremlin looking hands slowly reaching out from the corners of my bed to poke at my face and grab at my arms and legs. This horrifying phenomenon would happen so often and for so many years during my early childhood that I even had a name for these scary night visitors, I called them the ‘Peep Hands’. Seeing or feeling these gremlin type hands was enough to make me jump out of bed straight away and run to my parent’s bedroom in a panic. Of course to them it was all just some bad recurring nightmare or the result of their child’s overactive imagination which is really what any sane parent would think.

One such experience with the ‘peep hands’ occurred when I was lying in bed next to my father. He was reading a magazine at the time and I was playing a karate game on a small handheld device, not unlike an old digital watch but slightly larger. In the corner I noticed the building-up of whitish grey energy again but decided not to say anything as I always felt safe beside my father and was certain they wouldn’t come close when he was around. I continued to play my game and tried my best to ignore everything else. A couple of minutes had passed when I suddenly drifted into an altered state of consciousness and out from under the bed came those horrible gremlin looking hands which grabbed me and pulled me right under. It seemed my spirit had literally been dragged out of my body and was pulled into another level of reality by whatever these creatures were and now instead of being under my bed I found myself hanging from the ceiling of a dark and eerie cave trapped inside a large cage, similar to an old Victorian-style bird cage. Below me I heard the giggles and laughter of what sounded like mischievous little goblins just like in the movie ‘The Labyrinth’. I was terrified and when I returned to my body I literally shouted and reached out to grab my father, which made him jump. “You’re okay” he would tell me, as far as he could tell I was lying beside him all along.

Looking back I understand now that those events in the hospital and with my father are some of the earliest memories of out-of-body experiences (OBE’s) that I have, although I had no idea what was happening at the time. As I grew a little older into my early teenage years those experiences started to dissipate, I hadn’t thought too much about death anymore and the peep hands no longer bothered me at night. It wasn’t until 2003 when a tragic car accident took my cousin Stephen away from us that I stumbled into a depression and all of these questions came rushing back once again. Soon after I would go on to have my first conscious out-of-body experience (OBE) that pushed my life on an exciting new path of self-discovery and learning. My hope for this book is to take you the reader along on that journey with me and to give you some insight on the wonders that await us all after we ‘die’.