We’re gearing up here for some potentially rough storms this weekend. Could be stormy. Could be mega stormy. No matter what, it’s going to blow and rain. So I’ve been preparing for that instead of working. One thing I was going to do was write a blog about real ghost stories but for now, I’m going to repost an old one that not many people saw (btw, I do recommend the Dead Files…great ghost hunting show).
I believe in ghosts. I’ve been aware of them ever since I was little. Unlike some witches and psychics, I’m leery of them—just because someone is dead, doesn’t mean they don’t/won’t lie, and it doesn’t mean they’re a ‘good’ being. Not all ghosts fit the negative stereotype, of course, but some do, and they’re the ones I’m watchful of.
So yes, I like watching shows on hauntings and ghosts, though I don’t like the ghosthunters who go in and challenge the spirits—that’s stupid and dangerous. And ascribing every haunting to demonic possession is far too into the paranoid realm for me. So I limit my ghost-hunting shows to a specific few, and for the real freakshow ones—watch movies instead.
I’ve done a lot of house cleanings/exorcisms and dealt with ghosts for many years. That, I’ll save for another post. But I’ve also lived in haunted houses before.The house I grew up in was haunted and creepy as hell. I still have nightmares of it and don’t often like to talk about it but let’s just say–the basement was freakshow weird, and so was the hallway near my bedroom.
One in particular was actually an apartment where I had a poltergeist who loved to steal stuff from me. At first I thought it was the Fae—a lot of my jewelry went missing (and yes, I was living alone), but then I realized nope—while I’ve always worked with the Fae, it was definitely a poltergeist. The most blatant (and in a way, stupid) example was one night when I was watching a show on TV. The TV was in my bedroom. During the commercial break, I went into the kitchen to start my dinner. I was going to bake some fish.
Well, I took the pan out, set it on the stove (which was off), and then heard my show start up again. I hurried back in the bedroom to watch, then returned to the kitchen. The pan was gone. I knew I’d put it on the stove but checked the cupboard, just in case I was getting a bit forgetful. Nope. Not there. I look all over the kitchen—even touching the burner where I’d sat it. Nothing. I think—maybe I absently carried it into the bedroom with me when I went back to my show.
I walked in the bedroom. Nothing. Head back to the kitchen and there it is. On the stove. On the burner where I knew I’d put it. I know the poltergeist got a good laugh out of me that day, and that’s when I realized it liked to play. I never felt threatened by it, but boy, did it irk me when I’d have to stand in the middle of the room, scream “BRING BACK MY NECKLACE/EARRINGS/KEYS”…but always, after I did that, about an hour later, I’d find what had been taken in the most bizarre places.
Have you ever experienced a ghost? If so, feel free to tell us about it!