Feb 16, 2013

Consciousness Abduction

Edited October 20th, 2017

[Note: The connotation I associate to this experience changed a couple months later as I developed a curiosity and understanding of the beings I encountered. My initial reaction was one of distress and confusion. I was so disturbed by the experience I woke up and immediately needed to draw. I found crayons and paper and drew three images (poorly, I might add) from the experience.

Although I've titled this experience as an Abduction, I must iterate for myself that I did state a readiness for such an encounter. Perhaps there was some amount of complicity in it.

First was a lucid dream where I met the shape-shifting blonde, eagle woman and saw a UFO scanning the trees. Then, I awoke in a different body not my own aboard an alien ship. I cannot highlight this enough. My consciousness was transferred to a clone-like, weak body which I awoke into.]


Most significant dream experience I've had in a while. Shocking, and disturbing.
My morning was extremely difficult fighting with my toddler's refusal to accept I cannot nurse him as much as he wants. I felt helpless, second guessing, as I have been this entire trip in Portland to work on my book, if coming up here was a good idea. But I must get my book done. He misses his dad so much. I miss having him put the kid to bed to help me wean. He can't nurse if I'm not in the room (I would sleep on the couch most nights). I'm embarrassed. His other grandparents and aunt want to take him out to the zoo on the weekend and I am nervous he will throw a tantrum the whole time.

A degree in psychology, experience as a child care worker, raising my own sisters, you'd think I would know a thing or two about this, but I am exhausted! I took a nap at noon, too upset and tired to work today. And this is what happened...

DREAM - Morning of Feb. 12th, 2013

There's a crowd gathered outside on a dock-like platform with a railing and pavement 10 or 20 feet above where I am approaching. People are sitting on benches. It appears to be a boardwalk. I hang back, nervous to be in the crowd until I know what they are watching.

A large rusty colored bird (golden eagle) descends in slow motion at the crowd. In the last few seconds of its flight, it's form freezes midair and time seems to pause or slow. It lands on a metal display (fountain or street art, maybe bike rack). Those sitting on a bench facing this steel felt the wind of her landing. I'm watching in amazement that this giant bird creature could drop into the crowd without a panic. They don't seem to notice. A white flash precedes an instantaneous transformation as the bird suddenly becomes an abnormally tall (8 or 9 ft) woman with blonde hair in a looped pony tail. My perception shifts so I'm made to believe she was a tall woman walking in the crowd all along, never a bird. There was no apparent morph from one shape to the other, she just became a woman that was curled around the metal beam as if that is how she had always been. No one seemed to pay much notice. They felt the wind, but paid no mind.

She was looking around at the crowd, searching for a place to retreat out of direct observation. I deliberately sent her my thoughts in an attempt to transmit my awareness: "I know you're an alien. I am watching you." She spotted me and walked toward the rail separating me from the crowd on the raised concrete area (like a bridge). She was abnormally tall and thin. People noticed that, and stared as she walked toward my area to escape the crowd. Her direction shifted when she arrived at me, veering to walk down off the boardwalk along two old concrete bases where I had come. She was ignoring me. I jumped at the chance to talk to her.

"You're an alien, aren't you?"

She seemed to want me to be quiet, embarrassed to be affiliated with me. I followed her with Link sleeping in my arms. I turned back to ask my partner, who was coming along, to help me with the kid so I could talk to her. He showed no desire to come. Annoyed, I continued to carry him and caught up to her.

"Are you an alien?" I asked.

She hesitated, not sure how to answer. "I do things for certain high up clients that wish my business to remain private." She was evading giving a definitive name to her work/profession.

Based on what she was telling me, I filled in the gap. "So you're an escort?" At first she looked beautiful, blonde haired, wrapped in a coat and scarf, jeans. I was fascinated by the success and confidence I assumed she had to service high-end clients.

"In a way, but..." I can't remember how else she explained what she does. I was distracted by how her face was changing. Suddenly the implied beauty I thought she had became an obvious exaggeration by my perception of her. She actually had a bulbous nose, an overbite, and large warts like a Halloween witch. I halted. Confused. But she kept walking and turned around the corner.

Something in the sky caught my attention. Day light. A UFO. Three lights formed a little triangle. Blue, red and yellow. It moved toward my eastern horizon. It emitted a pulse that created a thin white outline like on a radar screen. It was scanning for something. The bubble only went out to a certain distance from the object. White writing or barcode like lines were on the inside edge of the bubble. Bubble isn't the right word; it was more like a computer holographic display visible to me in the space expanding beyond the craft in mid-air. They projected their computer display miles out around their craft to scan for something.


Next moment I am in a doctor patient's chair leaned back. A blurry/cloudy display is slanted a couple feet in front of me, like blurred glass but I know it's not glass. Flat, not textured surface. There are lime green blurred circuits built into the panel I can make out through the cloudy semi-transparency of the panel.

The first thing I remember thinking is: This isn't a dream. Then yelling it in my mind: This isn't a dream!

I look around and see the tall bird woman walking by the doorway of the funneled tear drop shaped room. "I knew it! I knew you were an alien!" I say, before being sucked back into a locked position in the chair. An adult male's voice is talking to me. He is very soothing. I tell him his personality is very comforting. He chuckles calmly to show his pleasure that I think so. His voice is too beautiful. I get the sense that this is a telepathically generated voice based on what I would best respond to. He sounds human, but isn't human, and I don't think his mouth (if he has one) is moving behind that panel.

My vision is delayed. Colors are vibrant. My awareness is heightened and easy. I feel almost drunk, but with deep awareness, even if my senses are inhibited. My limbs don't work well. They're thin and undeveloped. I still feel like me. This body feels like mine, yet not the one I have worked in. It's some clone of myself.

There is a black panel in front of me (below the cloudy grey one) with slots on one side for what look like fuses which reminds me of the fuse box in a car engine. Some are colored slots but there doesn't seem to be any fuses in them. Also an array of unmarked buttons of different bold colors as well are present. I am confused. A task is presented to me to work the panel, but I don't understand what sequence I am supposed to be doing. There aren't any symbols or feelings that tell me what to do. I finally say "I'm confused, I don't understand what I'm supposed to be doing."

A screen with a solid yellow lines border appears to my right with an image of a red button that I know is one of my options. I assume it is a directional telling me to start by hitting that button. So I find the corresponding one and press it. "No, that wasn't for you." He tells me. In a panic, I shake my hands and say "I'm sorry, I don't understand. I thought that was telling me to press that button." He reaches around to unpress the button. Realizing the chance to see a part of whatever this being was, I look at the button, miss him, but catch his hand retracting back behind the panel at the top. I gasp. "I saw your hand!" He had three or four long fingers with bulbs on the tips like a frog, and an almost translucent skin the color of pale blue or light gray with pink and lime green veins. [Update 2 April 22nd 2013: The two aliens from this ship may be the Arcturian and Pleiadian species. http://arcturi.com/ArcturianArchives.html and http://arcturi.com/PleiadianAliens.html.] I wonder if they still enjoy taking a swim now and then.

The alien telepath replies in an amused voice like he's talking to a child that keeps repeating something: "You can see my other one too." I look over to see the shadows of his other hand's fingers typing on the topside of the panel along the green circuits. There were no discernible buttons on his panel. It looked like he was stimulating neural pathways on a flat panel like a circuit board. Was he guiding the electrical impulses manually whereas we use buttons connected to circuits? It would be a more biologically derived way of using electrical pulses than how we have it set up. Could the panel technology be biomechanically modeled after their own makeup?

I notice a black rectangular tray like a TV dinner, with a flat black cover over it in a small cubby at the bottom of the black station. "What is this?" I ask.
"It's food."
A regular human silver fork is in a slot on the right.
"Do you want me to eat?" I verify.
"There's not enough time. We have to move you along."

Mechanical arms extend beyond this panel/machine to pick up the tray, and open a sliding door into my stomach. This part severely unnerves me. I am horrified to see a plastic door over a large surgical hole a foot wide across my abdomen for invasive access to my stomach. The arm drops the meal directly in. My organs jostle from the addition. A moment of discomfort disorients me as my body adjusts to the sudden demand to begin the digestion process without warning. My stomach was not expanded, or ready for it. We are used to a gradual full, not a sudden full. I was hungry, but what a shocking way to do it quickly. I wondered if this is their way of eating as a more efficient manner than slowly through the mouth. Except I've seen this before on cattle for the farmer or scientist/vet to monitor their intake.


Immediately after, while still in a state of shock, my perspective shifts. A bracer comes down over my head like when going on a carnival ride. I am in a different craft. A different alien is crossing the room in front of me. He is tan-brown with darker brown spots all over his skin. He has a pot belly and exposed skin. I swear he was wearing a polka dot bow tie, although I cannot be sure if that accessory was added later as I have been trying to process the experience. He had a hanging or protruding nose, no hair. Reminded me of the Tridarian character Waddo on Star Wars Episode 1 in shape and face, similar to an elephant seals face and skin.

Elephant seal nose is similar to this tan-brown alien's.

This alien is maybe 4 foot. He looks to be finishing a snack. "How did the other ones treat you?" He says with a bitter tone about the first aliens before being here. Relieved to be asked about my mental state, I unload. "It was terrible! They opened my stomach and dumped this stuff into me!"

"You mean they fed you? How awful." He jibes sarcastically.

My previous sense of hope and freedom dies a notch. "Does that mean you are the benevolent aliens?" I check, somewhat skeptically.

He picks up a tool, maybe a syringe... or something sharp, and comes around my right.

"Then you're the bad ones." I say as he proceeds to saw off my leg or arm.

"I never said that. You just asked if I was splendid."

No I didn't, I think to myself. He lied. He made that up. Why would I have used that word? I had to shut my eyes tight because whatever he was doing was unsightly and I expected it to be painful. But I don't remember any pain. He was being annoying, callous, teasing and tormenting me and finding a sick amusement in it.

"You think that's fun? Watch this." He picks up a gun from a series of guns lying on a table where doctor's tools should be. He cocks it and points it at my head. "What do you think will happen?"

Terror strikes me as I hear him shoot. No pain. My consciousness shifts to another of myself in the same seat. He taunts again. I try to avoid his aim but my head won't move, only my arms can swat at things in front of me. I helplessly swat at the gun, but he keeps re-aiming it. His manner is that of a magician showing you a bunch of tricks and illusions at your own expense and humiliation.

I shut my eyes. He shoots again. I open my eyes and he tosses aside a head like it was an intentionally failed act. Then in a line, he shoots my subsequent cloned selves again and again and again faster than I can realize where this new body is. My consciousness shifts from one right after another in a line, jumping between heads/bodies. My eyes are closed the whole time, but I feel my soul leaving and attracted into a head like a foot or two away from the previous self. Am I shifting between bodies, or is the same body being killed and replenished? Or is there no gun shot? Am I just perceiving that there should be a death causing blow and it doesn't really do anything to whatever other-dimensional body this is?

My adrenaline is pumping on overdrive. I cannot process what is happening. The desire to escape is overwhelming and distracting. Fear is gripping me. Again, he approaches me with a gun up against my head. I brace, and try to swat it away. But as soon as I remove it, another different one takes its place too suddenly for a two armed being. Somehow, he manages to hold a series of guns to my head at once. I have no choice but to accept his control. I submit to faith. It hasn't killed me yet, maybe it won't again. He fires. I survive again. I win? I accept I am protected somehow, despite how unrealistic and insane it all is.

He comes around to the left side of me. "That's not all. Watch this." He takes hold of my tongue and snips my esophagus out of my neck, then wiggles a bright pink piece of organ tissue in front of my face. I feel an emptiness where my throat should be. The skin of my neck is sunken in more than normal. Perhaps that was my tongue... Why was it pink? Could have been my tongue. Still... AAAAHHH!

He walks away with it into a side room. I want to scream. If I have no throat, I can't breathe either! I try gasping for air. He is toying with me, I think to myself. He wants to see me suffer. I want to call for him to come back. As my oxygen level drains, I finally think to myself 'I can just try to breathe, otherwise I will suffocate.' I will my mouth open and gasp. To my amazement, I start to breathe without a structure for the air to pass through. It is awkward. I have to hold my chin up to keep the flaps apart so air will go down. But I begin to calm down knowing I can at least breathe again.

I return to my Earthly state and body in the middle of a deep paralysis.


Two races with very different approaches on how to either experiment or interact or teach humanity about some difficult truths. The first one was patient, trying to do everything he could to put me at ease. But I was still held down in a chair, I was still confused, I still had a meal invasively dropped into my open stomach by mechanical arms.

The second alien was annoying and pushy, forcefully getting me to acknowledge a terrifying truth, that he couldn't kill me permanently. My consciousness would transfer to another body. His tactic was conditioning by flooding. If there is no real bullet impact, why is there a shift in consciousness? Why did I feel myself move between bodies?

Other abductees who were dying of disease have reported being transferred into a new body and miraculously cured when returned to their home.

I woke entertwined with my son as I had gone to sleep. The paralysis I felt upon waking happens when a person wakes suddenly from a later stage of sleep. In order to prevent the body from acting out impulses during dreaming, the brain stem releases a chemical to induce paralysis. I am not a sleep walker. I do not wake up mid-REM ever.

I remember thinking when I was in the craft of the second alien: "This is no faceless, hazy figure holding a bright light over my eyes, this is terrifyingly real." It shook me hard. By far the most jolting and unnerving experience I've ever 'slept' through. It traumatized me for days. I was at a loss as to what to do. Memory of a physical abduction is one thing, how do I convince someone my consciousness was abducted? I felt rather helpless for awhile.

Perhaps people are not ready for this kind of truth. Are we just cattle? We are being constantly manipulated. Then again, aren't parents constantly manipulating, controlling, setting up their children: "play with this, do this, don't be that." I felt infantile compared to them.

Was the first alien trying to teach me to work a replicator device? How to function in that dimensional state? That could explain the food. It must take a sophisticated understanding of neuroscience and a sensitive empathy to work the kind of panel he was.

I preach about how consciousness creates, and I have asked myself before 'why,' with all the other strange things I encounter, have I not been visited directly or abducted. That was the least control I have ever had. Perhaps I was not ready yet for an encounter in person on Earth. This may have been a compromise.

However, it did pinpoint certain key points. There is an immortality or repellent nature to the soul. Will matters. I appreciate both of their approaches, but still believe neither to be the right way.

Humans need to be introduced into difficult to accept concepts concerning matters of the unknown gracefully. Why could you not just sit down and talk to me? Why hold me down? We are infantile in our 5th dimensional selves, I know. I was easily distracted, difficult to direct, quick to fear. In order to be prepared for truths about death and aliens or other-dimensional beings and their role in our existence, we must first resolve the minor issues of our psyches with respect to our relationships and environment and self-evolution. Otherwise such information would overwhelm. If the experience shook me to my breaking point --someone who has always been so ready and willing to (and naive about) meet alien races and learn the truths about our origin and existence-- how would someone like my mother handle it? Or my sister; people with severe anxiety and psychological barriers. Or deeply religious individuals?

One last thing. My life partner was on the second alien ship in the back wearing a leigh and eating. I felt disappointed and sad that he was allowing the torment to happen. I told him about this dream in the hopes of redefining my subconscious projection of him. I needed him to be a force of comfort or help if this type of experience ever happened again, just like I have instructed others to create a reliable symbol or source in their dreams of fear. Together, we reimagined him as a hulk, and him embracing me humming silly satisfaction to feed my consciousness with ideas to draw from.

I also told my father and mother separately about my experience. She wanted me not to tell my father around her because him talking about such things tends to upset her. I had to be silent until I had the chance. I created the chance. He has always vouched for our families mystical abilities, although he does not explore them himself.

See Update on Astral Abduction and Observations on Time Travel for more analysis and discussion.

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