User blog comment:Lightning2315/Muahaha~/@comment-1936474-20110423052416

it all started when i was six years old. The usual things parents try to scare you with, the boogyman, the monster in the closet, ghosts, and i all knew it wasn't real because of the way my dad raised me ... so i went to bed after hearing a ghost story and went to sleep no problem. Few minutes later, from what i remember, this is how the dream went. I opened my eyes, still a little dark, so i go to my parents room, see if they are there, they weren't, so i went back to my room, closed the door, and turned the light on, except, no light came from the bulb. Instead, everything disappeared, even the floor, except i was still standing there. I turn around, looking for my bear as all little kids would, i picked it up, and it turned to sand, and i started to get scared. So i turn around, and see these older versions of myself, but i didn't know it was me at the time. There were five in total, this me with pasty skin and a blank and neutral expression. This me with this angry killer look on his face with scars across his face and sharp sharkish teeth. A me the looked like his whole body was stitched up like a rag doll, and his hair hung over the front of his face blocking the entire thing but his mouth. A me wearing all this armour-ish stuff, on the edge of them were all spikes and he had two black holes for eyes. And finally, a me infront of them all, which looks like how i am today. So, i took a step back, and sat down, and wrapped my arms around my legs, and cradled myself and looked away from them. So i then turn my head back, and they all were within arm distance, all surrounding me, wondering what was going on. They then all opened their mouths one by one. each making their own different kind of pain stricken scream, except for the one that resembled me now. He opened his mouth, and all these voices were rushing out, hammering me everytime i paid attention, talking about killing and doing what is right and how i'm so depressed even though i'm not. Then i closed my eyes, opened them, and then i saw myself cowering in the corner of my room, dream finished. The next day, when it was bed time, i was too afraid to say anything to my parents, so i went to bed without a word. Again i had the dream but more intense. The next day, i told my mum i had a nightmare, she said don't worry, just think of something different. I go to bed that night, do it, and i see them again, wake up, and i can still see them. The whole day i was paranoid, seeing them all over the place, when i was at school, sitting in the car, watching tv, even doing my business, i saw them. that night, i couldn't sleep, but i layed there silently, watching them constantely staring at me, everynow and then, muttering something about what they represent or something. A few nights later, i told my mum i couldn't sleep, so she watched me sleep that night, and saw the terrified look on my face looking at all the non-existant mes. Mum took me to a doctor, and a few hours later, he diagnosed me with insomnia, and suggested to take my to a psychiatrist. Mum did that, and the whole time i was there i was afraid to explain anything, even to my mum when i was at home with her. This lasted for 9 more years, sleepless nights, watching them, but over time, i managed to befriend them, as creepy as it sounds. When i am alone, i could concentrate on one of them at a time, and have conversations through my mind with them, basically a pro and con arguement. I asked my mum to take me to the psychiatrist again, she said yes and didn't ask why. So once there, she left me alone with the doc, and i told him everything, from day one until now. He didn't diagnose me as made, but just said that i have a VERY overactive imagination, which made sense to me with all the pictures i drew, and everything i acted as if i was a magic man. So this continued again till this very day as i am talking to you, except, it is getting better, i am slowly getting back to sleep, now sleeping an hour or three a night, two of the me's disappeared, still with the angry me, neutral pasty me, and the ragdoll me. I talk to them through my mind as if they are next to me, i sit there alone, yet i am not. anywhere they are there, they are a part of my life, and now, if they were to go, god knows what would happen to me. And that is my story, still going on today.