Sleeping With a Ghost

When I asked the universe to give me someone to sleep with at night, in retrospect I should have been more specific. I spent three and a half years cohabitating with a ghost. Yes a ghost. Seriously, a ghost.

One of my smartest, most adult decisions (other than using Uber to avoid horrendous LA parking) was independently buying my first condo, the one I have lived in now for four years. Picking out granite for my new custom bathroom cabinet and selecting the stain for my hardwood floors were not things I ever thought I would derive such joy and pride from. I spent countless weekends at Home Depot, West Elm and Lamps Plus furnishing my own space to my liking, and I relished every moment of it. I loved everything about my condo… other than I never felt quite comfortable in my bedroom.

I did not understand what it was but my room just felt cold to me, especially compared to the rest of my condo. It is like the when you walk out of an air conditioned store in Florida back into the humid air, the contrast hits you hard.

If you know me at all, you know sleeping is my thing. I love it. I definitely do not like it when something prevents me from the pure bliss of drifting off to my dreams (especially when I am before the sun to workout. Last thing I need is to be tired and lifting heavy weight over my head).  I started thinking I was going a bit crazy at night. I would close my eyes and feel something in the room with me. It is not settling when you are alone but feel something pressing on your leg or pushing you into your mattress. (I have since learned this is called being psychically attacked). I would wake up almost every night in a total panic, sweating. I would swear on my life there was someone in my condo. I knew logically there could not be (my security alarm would have gone off, right?). I would tip toe out of my room ready to face the man, in his late thirties with dark hair who I was convinced would be coming around the corner from my kitchen. Not all ghosts come in the same form. This one was somehow in my psyche and I could see him there (and feel him in the physical).

It got to the point where I would fall asleep on my couch at night with the TV. blaring horrendous infomercials while every light imaginable was on. I would wake up anywhere between midnight and 4 am to begrudgingly force myself to finish out the remaining morning slumber in my bed. I was constantly tired and cranky.

Finally, I asked a spiritual healer about this. I told her I did not know quite how to explain it but there is this weird, negative, cold energy in my bedroom (I didn’t feel it anywhere else). She immediately said, “Oh you have a ghost.  He isn’t bad but I wouldn’t say he’s good.” Ok great. So on the plus side, I wasn’t going crazy. On the negative, I had a freeloader.  I have always believed in ghosts and spirits; yet I had not expected meeting one quite in this fashion.

A few weeks later, my healer did a house visit and successfully encouraged him to move on. From what she knew about him, he physically matched the description of who I could see in my own mind. He was sick before he passed, he never lived there but he had some attachment to my condo. It seemed he must have known someone who lived there long before I did. I tended to sense him in the corner of my room which in my gut told me someone used to religiously sit in a rocking chair in that same spot.

bedroom.jpg

The moral of this story? Well I have reclaimed my room and sleep wonderfully now (without a night light). I also have without a doubt confirmed that I do believe in spirits and life after death. I believe in things that I cannot necessarily see before me with my own two eyes. I believe all of these to be just as powerful, if not more, than what I know to be in my reality. What do you believe?

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