My First Real OOBE
I was fourteen years old and the although I don't remember the exact date, it was summer 1973. It was around 11pm. I was in bed and not particularly tired. I remember I was pretty annoyed with my brother who shared the room with me, over some trivial disagreement. And I lay there fuming about what I'd like to do to him (he was 11). The light in the room had been out for about 15 minutes when i noticed what felt like a mild electrical charge running up my spine and the feeling that someone was blowing gently on the back of my neck.
I was lying on my left side as is my preffered sleep position. I recall marvelling at the sensation, not particularly afraid but highly curious as to what this should be. I then became aware of someone whispering close to my ear. The strange thing was it did not seem pretty dramatic, which tells me i must have been close to actual sleep when this occured as the conscious mind would have set off the alarm bells at the merest hint of anything like this. As soon as i tried to listen to the whispering, it ceased and I remember calling out "what." Only to hear my brother in the background telling me he hadn't said anything.
I'd only just settled back down again when the spine tingling began again and I felt invisible hands grabbing at my legs around my ankles. This phenomenon, i have to admit, is incredibly scary. It still scares me even today, 30 years later. As I lay there trying to reason my way out of this dilemma, i lifted up fast off the bed. There was no gentle rising.... it was more of a whoosh and suddenly up there near the ceiling. I could feel what I thought at the time was a huge hand gripping me at the area of the lower spine. It felt like when someone grabs you by slipping the fingers down the back of the trouser waistband and making a fist. I could actually feel what i took to be the knuckles of this hand pushing painfully into my lower back. I tried to move, to call out, but could make no sound or move. The only part of me that appeared to move was my eyes but i couldn't actually open them.
I could feel myself being swung about the room backward and forward, apparently now about as heavy as your average rag doll to this immense force below me. I clearly remember having highly religious thoughts like "What the f*** is happening here?"
I can honestly say nothing that has happened in my life since has scared me anywhere near as much. In fact life seems dull and little more than comical for the most part after a thing like this.After what seemed an age it was over and i felt myself being dragged back down to earth. I had no idea I had even left my physical body of course. To me, at that age, I thought I had physically risen in the air, been tossed about all over the place and landed again.
To give you some idea of how truly odd some of this stuff can be I must outline another experience I had many years ago.
Sometime in 1974........
Not long after the above, certainly less than a year, I went to bed and soon found myself flying around the local district (Clapham, London) and was still marvelling at my new found powers even though I had been at it on a fairly regular basis for about a year. I found myself stuck under a full sized glass topped table in some unknown office. I must have been quite small to be able to fit under there so easily but at the time I didn't dwell on it. I found myself looking up at a man sitting at the table. He was a villainous looking character, mid sixties, practically bald with a sparse covering of cropped grey hair. If you can picture the character in the film Reservoir Dogs who rebukes one of the gunmen for failing to give the waitress a tip, you've just about got the look of him. He was smartly dressed in a grey suit and he would sip occasionally from a heavy whisky glass. The whisky was mixed with some sort of fizzy mixer. Anyway this character looked very unhappy and he was obviously lost in his own thoughts. He had his head down and I continually thought he would see me at any moment through the heavy glass but his face remained downcast and dis-interested. To the average fifteen year old the scene rapidly became boring but I was quite unable to move or will myself awake and back in bed.
Suddenly the man sat bolt upright in his chair and clutched at his chest. The colour drained out of him and he began to gasp as if in terrible pain. His eyes grew wide and I found he was now looking directly down at me. I don't know if he had actually seen me but the shock in his face made me feel that he had. The term "He looked as if he'd seen a ghost" springs to mind. The whole scene was terryfying and I will never forget the look on that man's face. He was having a heart attack and it seemed I was the only witness. At last after struggling with his failing body for what seemed an age, he pitched forward and collapsed face down on the table, what was left of his scotch poured from the knocked over glass and began dripping on the carpet nearby. At last it was over and I was again able to move and was only too relieved to be away from there. I found myself back in my body and sitting up. I wasn't sure if I had simply had a nighmare vision or had witnessed someone actually dying but I spent quite some time mulling over the details of the event.
Now almost 35 years after the event I am concerned to see a younger version of that man in the mirror every morning. Perhaps I am not quite as thick set as he was but clearly I am getting there and also my hair which is still present at the moment will start to thin soon if family history is anything to go by. No male in the family has ever had hair by the time he died, most had lost it by their early twenties in fact! Also my favourite tipple is Scotch and Lemonade.
It was me and I don't doubt it.
Needless to say I tend to avoid sitting at glass topped tables but if one day, say in another fifteen or twenty years time I should find myself sitting at one, looking down through the glass, sipping a scotch and mulling over the details of my life, will I really die of a heart attack? And at the moment of death will I see the fifteen year old me looking up at me? Is this some whacky trick of the mind or something far deeper? Is it coincidence that only one male in recent family history has ever scraped past the age of seventy and that they were all bald. Is it coincidence about the drink? If this event is anything other than some childish fantasy it certainly hints at the possibility that life isn't such a confusing mass of twists and turns after all. I'd love to hear from anyone who may have thoughts on this or perhaps similiar stories?
4.06.2004
Now this is quite odd and I dont pretend to know whats going on here. After years of not doing shift work, I find myself back in a job where we follow a three shift system (Earlies, Lates and Nights). I've been doing this for about a year.
Now to get my body clock back on track for normal sleeping hours, after the last night shift I try to get as little sleep as possible during that day. Obviously I want to be able to sleep that night and the only way to do this (as most shift workers will verify) is to not give in to the constant nodding off during the day. So I tend to sleep just two hours, drag myself out of bed at around 11am and stay up till a normal bed-time between midnight and 1am. Of course it nearly kills me and I feel as depraved as a Thailand Sex Tourist stepping off the plane by the time bedtime arrives.
Every time I do this, following the last night shift, I am plagued by OOBES or near OOBES and they are the most shocking and persistent I can ever remember. The other night it happened again with a variation on the usual theme.
I went to bed at 11.30PM and was just dosing off when I went rigid after the usual keying signals. I became aware of something directly behind me in the bed and it felt like the snout of a fairly large animal prodding me in the back and the back of the head, opening and closing its mouth without really intending to bite me.
Because of this I failed to relax and the oddness persisted until it started to get rougher and became more worrying. I was laying on my left side, so put my right arm behind me to feel around for whatever it was. I am certain I did not physically move my arm and that I was reaching behind me astrally rather than physically.
Immediately I felt the damp nose and the sniffing sensation on my hand, the way a dog would sniff your closed fist when he knows you've got some goodies in there. The mouth kept closing gently over my hand and it was indeed like playing with some sort of massive puppy. He would close his mouth gently over my loosely fisted hand and bite playfully and I didn't feel very afraid then. Then came the bit that really freaked me out. As I began to open my hand and make grabbing motions to try and squeeze the nose of the thing, I suddenly closed my hand around what was clearly one of the front fangs and to my horror I realised that the roof of the mouth was against the thumbed side of my hand and the business end of the fang was protruding past the little finger side of my fist. It didn't take more than a second to realise that this fang was more than three or four inches long! And that whatever it was I had been playing with was no relation whatsoever to scrappy doo.
I shouldn't have panicked but I did and the more I panicked the harder the biting became. Luckily I was woken within thirty seconds or so but it still felt like an age. It ties in with what I've said all along. When you remain cool and calm you can cross the fast flowing river. When you panic or lose belief, the river becomes deep and fast flowing.
I was fourteen years old and the although I don't remember the exact date, it was summer 1973. It was around 11pm. I was in bed and not particularly tired. I remember I was pretty annoyed with my brother who shared the room with me, over some trivial disagreement. And I lay there fuming about what I'd like to do to him (he was 11). The light in the room had been out for about 15 minutes when i noticed what felt like a mild electrical charge running up my spine and the feeling that someone was blowing gently on the back of my neck.
I was lying on my left side as is my preffered sleep position. I recall marvelling at the sensation, not particularly afraid but highly curious as to what this should be. I then became aware of someone whispering close to my ear. The strange thing was it did not seem pretty dramatic, which tells me i must have been close to actual sleep when this occured as the conscious mind would have set off the alarm bells at the merest hint of anything like this. As soon as i tried to listen to the whispering, it ceased and I remember calling out "what." Only to hear my brother in the background telling me he hadn't said anything.
I'd only just settled back down again when the spine tingling began again and I felt invisible hands grabbing at my legs around my ankles. This phenomenon, i have to admit, is incredibly scary. It still scares me even today, 30 years later. As I lay there trying to reason my way out of this dilemma, i lifted up fast off the bed. There was no gentle rising.... it was more of a whoosh and suddenly up there near the ceiling. I could feel what I thought at the time was a huge hand gripping me at the area of the lower spine. It felt like when someone grabs you by slipping the fingers down the back of the trouser waistband and making a fist. I could actually feel what i took to be the knuckles of this hand pushing painfully into my lower back. I tried to move, to call out, but could make no sound or move. The only part of me that appeared to move was my eyes but i couldn't actually open them.
I could feel myself being swung about the room backward and forward, apparently now about as heavy as your average rag doll to this immense force below me. I clearly remember having highly religious thoughts like "What the f*** is happening here?"
I can honestly say nothing that has happened in my life since has scared me anywhere near as much. In fact life seems dull and little more than comical for the most part after a thing like this.After what seemed an age it was over and i felt myself being dragged back down to earth. I had no idea I had even left my physical body of course. To me, at that age, I thought I had physically risen in the air, been tossed about all over the place and landed again.
To give you some idea of how truly odd some of this stuff can be I must outline another experience I had many years ago.
Sometime in 1974........
Not long after the above, certainly less than a year, I went to bed and soon found myself flying around the local district (Clapham, London) and was still marvelling at my new found powers even though I had been at it on a fairly regular basis for about a year. I found myself stuck under a full sized glass topped table in some unknown office. I must have been quite small to be able to fit under there so easily but at the time I didn't dwell on it. I found myself looking up at a man sitting at the table. He was a villainous looking character, mid sixties, practically bald with a sparse covering of cropped grey hair. If you can picture the character in the film Reservoir Dogs who rebukes one of the gunmen for failing to give the waitress a tip, you've just about got the look of him. He was smartly dressed in a grey suit and he would sip occasionally from a heavy whisky glass. The whisky was mixed with some sort of fizzy mixer. Anyway this character looked very unhappy and he was obviously lost in his own thoughts. He had his head down and I continually thought he would see me at any moment through the heavy glass but his face remained downcast and dis-interested. To the average fifteen year old the scene rapidly became boring but I was quite unable to move or will myself awake and back in bed.
Suddenly the man sat bolt upright in his chair and clutched at his chest. The colour drained out of him and he began to gasp as if in terrible pain. His eyes grew wide and I found he was now looking directly down at me. I don't know if he had actually seen me but the shock in his face made me feel that he had. The term "He looked as if he'd seen a ghost" springs to mind. The whole scene was terryfying and I will never forget the look on that man's face. He was having a heart attack and it seemed I was the only witness. At last after struggling with his failing body for what seemed an age, he pitched forward and collapsed face down on the table, what was left of his scotch poured from the knocked over glass and began dripping on the carpet nearby. At last it was over and I was again able to move and was only too relieved to be away from there. I found myself back in my body and sitting up. I wasn't sure if I had simply had a nighmare vision or had witnessed someone actually dying but I spent quite some time mulling over the details of the event.
Now almost 35 years after the event I am concerned to see a younger version of that man in the mirror every morning. Perhaps I am not quite as thick set as he was but clearly I am getting there and also my hair which is still present at the moment will start to thin soon if family history is anything to go by. No male in the family has ever had hair by the time he died, most had lost it by their early twenties in fact! Also my favourite tipple is Scotch and Lemonade.
It was me and I don't doubt it.
Needless to say I tend to avoid sitting at glass topped tables but if one day, say in another fifteen or twenty years time I should find myself sitting at one, looking down through the glass, sipping a scotch and mulling over the details of my life, will I really die of a heart attack? And at the moment of death will I see the fifteen year old me looking up at me? Is this some whacky trick of the mind or something far deeper? Is it coincidence that only one male in recent family history has ever scraped past the age of seventy and that they were all bald. Is it coincidence about the drink? If this event is anything other than some childish fantasy it certainly hints at the possibility that life isn't such a confusing mass of twists and turns after all. I'd love to hear from anyone who may have thoughts on this or perhaps similiar stories?
4.06.2004
Now this is quite odd and I dont pretend to know whats going on here. After years of not doing shift work, I find myself back in a job where we follow a three shift system (Earlies, Lates and Nights). I've been doing this for about a year.
Now to get my body clock back on track for normal sleeping hours, after the last night shift I try to get as little sleep as possible during that day. Obviously I want to be able to sleep that night and the only way to do this (as most shift workers will verify) is to not give in to the constant nodding off during the day. So I tend to sleep just two hours, drag myself out of bed at around 11am and stay up till a normal bed-time between midnight and 1am. Of course it nearly kills me and I feel as depraved as a Thailand Sex Tourist stepping off the plane by the time bedtime arrives.
Every time I do this, following the last night shift, I am plagued by OOBES or near OOBES and they are the most shocking and persistent I can ever remember. The other night it happened again with a variation on the usual theme.
I went to bed at 11.30PM and was just dosing off when I went rigid after the usual keying signals. I became aware of something directly behind me in the bed and it felt like the snout of a fairly large animal prodding me in the back and the back of the head, opening and closing its mouth without really intending to bite me.
Because of this I failed to relax and the oddness persisted until it started to get rougher and became more worrying. I was laying on my left side, so put my right arm behind me to feel around for whatever it was. I am certain I did not physically move my arm and that I was reaching behind me astrally rather than physically.
Immediately I felt the damp nose and the sniffing sensation on my hand, the way a dog would sniff your closed fist when he knows you've got some goodies in there. The mouth kept closing gently over my hand and it was indeed like playing with some sort of massive puppy. He would close his mouth gently over my loosely fisted hand and bite playfully and I didn't feel very afraid then. Then came the bit that really freaked me out. As I began to open my hand and make grabbing motions to try and squeeze the nose of the thing, I suddenly closed my hand around what was clearly one of the front fangs and to my horror I realised that the roof of the mouth was against the thumbed side of my hand and the business end of the fang was protruding past the little finger side of my fist. It didn't take more than a second to realise that this fang was more than three or four inches long! And that whatever it was I had been playing with was no relation whatsoever to scrappy doo.
I shouldn't have panicked but I did and the more I panicked the harder the biting became. Luckily I was woken within thirty seconds or so but it still felt like an age. It ties in with what I've said all along. When you remain cool and calm you can cross the fast flowing river. When you panic or lose belief, the river becomes deep and fast flowing.
Experiences 1
