My husband listened to the interview I did with Jeremy Vaeni on his Culture of Contact podcast tonight for the first time. Regarding the whole hypnosis thing, he said, concerning the decades between then and now, that “enough time has gone by” to go about this calmly. He, as well as myself , have gone from avoiding the issue pretty much (he wouldn’t even talk about it for years) to seriously considering regression.
In that interview, I mentioned that it’s fear that’s been keeping me from going under. That’s true, but, while I’ve told myself it’s fear of the aliens or whatever they are, my husband said something that was interesting:
What if we find out nothing happened?
What if we find out that there were no aliens, no orbs or craft or UFOs? Just, a big fat nothing. I admit that that’s been a silent, tiny thought at the back of my mind. I picture a small, slimy black-green paisley shaped entity slithering about in the deep shadows of my brain, daring me to go there and find out what it really is.
Interesting comment: “What if we find out nothing happened?”
Which is more frightening? Aliens of some kind, or a big nothing? If it’s a big nothing, then what did we experience? Why did we experience missing time? (twice too.) Were we, are we, nuts? Drugged without our knowledge?
At least with aliens, it’s a done deal. Still frightening, probably, but also something you can point to and say “Ha! It was them all along, the bastards!”
If it turns out to be a big blank, there’s nothing to grab onto.
There’s also the possibility that it isn’t quite a big black nothing, but not aliens either, just something silly. Like seeing a big pumpkin on the road, and, tired from the long drive on the back of a motorcycle, dozed off and had a dream about flying glowing pumpkins that chased us all over the road. (That later led to dreams of being held against my will under bright white paralyzing light, while "they" whom I could sense, though not see, were watching me from above. While I stood there paralyzed, screaming like I've never screamed in my life, as they dragged my husband away. As I spent months afraid to go to sleep. As I continued to have more UFO sightings. And felt "their" whoever "they" are, in the room with me; confirmed by others. My foreknowledge of the appearance of UFOs. The many times I floated out the door with the help of my little friends when I was a kid. You know, like that.)
So here we have the unknown, and faced with fear. Maybe it's the memory of the fear (those damn dreams were fucking frightening and still give me the creeps when I remember them all these years later) rather than the fear itself. Maybe by now it's settled into a dull anxiety.
Meanwhile, there's still bills to pay and dishes and laundry and the stuff of everyday living, that could give a damn if you've seen aliens or not.