I had a Dougie at the ready before being detoured by a question from a reader: Am I counting down my sleeps until June 14.
The answer is no because the date marks the end of my tutoring gig and not my departure from the state of Washington.
The query about sleep got me laughing and crying – take your pick. I’m still trying to get some sleep. Nearly three years after moving in.
The following is true, a story shared with my one hand on the Bible and the other raised in a court of law. You may believe or disbelief but you cannot discount the forces outside the perceptions and comprehension of the mortal mind. One need only listen to life to be aware of the existence of things not seen and unseeable.
When I moved in on August 9, 2008, it was with the excitement at the various improvements taking shape in my life and the immense relief at having left a very abusive and hostile arrangement.
I arrived with hope and optimism, a song in the heart and my possessions for a small basement studio in a building 97 years of age in the historic original quarters of Tacoma.
Like many studio dwellers, I was challenged by the peculiarities of an aged apartment and the designs and confines of the space.
In the first month, I rearranged the room half a dozen times to create flow, harmony and pleasing aesthetics.
I had the bed in one corner. I slept okay, not great. I attributed that to upheaval in residence.
In the acuity of hindsight, I sensed something that I can describe now only as “something stirring in the rafters.”
The room didn’t work; in particular, I didn’t like the bed being the first (if not only) thing seen upon entering. So I moved it to the only other corner where it could go.
The bed in its new location brought an immediate change. It vastly improved the workability and flow of the apartment. At what cost.
Immediately I began having sleep disturbances. I write that too lightly.
Very serious, fucked-up, intense and disruptive sleep disorders.
Suddenly I was unable to sleep through a night. I began experiencing frequent nightmares and being awakened between 3 and 4 a.m., in the darkest hour, in the presence of spirits and under their stares. Cold and unfriendly and intimidating visits by those associated with the apartment who had passed over and not moved on. There was not one, neither one particularly more discernible than another. They appeared en masse, a gathering of etheric matter of individuals hovering. Some nights after being awakened I could not move.
I had never in the huge number of residences inhabited and spaces visited during this lifetime experience or encountered anything like this.
Think I’ll stop here. Writing this is suddenly bothering me. I’ll resume later. My apologies for leaving anyone sincerely interested in this phenomenon, ummm, hanging.
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Later: I am not going to finish the story here; neither will I delete the unfinished post for its value. Instead, I will close with a few brief comments. As I never believed nor disbelieved in curses until I lived in Las Cruces, similarly I neither believed nor disbelieved in the power of spirits and ghosts to inhabit and haunt a residence until I lived in one. To the original question that prompted this post – am I counting down the sleeps until June 14 – no I am not. Two years and 10 months and waiting for the sandman.
Good day, good afternoon and good night, wherever you may be …
Barefoot Blogger 
May 11, 2011 @ 23:37:47
Glory be! It was an innocent question: I hadn’t realised you were dealing with all that. Heavens. Pleased you’re moving. Very pleased. I’ll count big sleeps for you…until June 14 anyhoo.
May 12, 2011 @ 13:03:50
@Klopp – “I’ll count big sleeps for you…until June 14 anyhoo.” If you’re gonna do all that, extend ’em past June 14 please! *Let that date go!* 🙂 There’s no significance to it except in job completion and I’ll still be in the danged apartment!! Wide awake in the middle of the night!
May 12, 2011 @ 01:37:23
I am very open minded on this subject, after I walked into the house where Mr FD’s grandfather used to live (a man I only met maybe 4 times at the most before he died) and “saw” him sitting at the dining table. I also started to have what I would now call an emotional experience close to a panic attack. I had to leave the building straight away.
I found out later that I had seen him sitting at his regular spot at the table. I did not know that.
May 12, 2011 @ 12:56:55
@FD – Very interesting and thanks for sharing that, FD. Your story made me think of my mother, who saw a presence in the house of my childhood. She felt it was benevolent and connected to the prior residents, a family with a young boy who had leukemia and recovered. Because the ghost remained with that house, didn’t come with us to the new abode, she felt its place was there.
May 12, 2011 @ 02:05:38
Having experienced my share of hard-to-explain phenomenon, I sympathize.
May 12, 2011 @ 13:00:23
@Capra – Thanks for saying so. There are at least three meaty, solid magazine pieces in me about this apartment and my experiences and struggles therewith. It has been one unforgettable journey through hell that I care never to repeat! 🙂
May 12, 2011 @ 13:10:54
@Capra – P.S. I’d love to hear about some of your hard-to-explain phenomena!
May 12, 2011 @ 06:26:26
I have been lucky to not have lived under such attgentions to this point in my life.
I feel for you. Hopefully once you make it out you will be able to sleep better
May 12, 2011 @ 13:09:17
@Lauren – Thank you. Rest assured, no pun intended, I will be very mindful of and attentive to the changes in sleep, psychological stress levels and much more when I move. I feel very strongly already that this move and getting out of that place will have more profound changes than any of my many many moves on U.S. soil.