I am insane. Mad, I am an outsider in society, a cackling witch alone summoning spirits. Ok, maybe not exactly as drastic as how I’m describing it, but I identify with the word ‘insane’ for a different reason.
Insane to me means you’re behaviour is frightening and bizarre.
Although I understand that many people do not like the word, I use the word for myself to express the fact I have experienced frightening and bizarre things, will not be believed to have experienced the supernatural and therefore become ‘insane’ to others.
My experience with the supernatural must begin as far back as my 2020 psychosis, but it was only in June 2021 that truly miraculous and unexplainable visual things happened to me. It happened in the span of a few weeks, but this is my abridged attempt to recount this story, if I haven’t already.
When Kentaro Miura passed away, I started to experience more symptoms than being upset. I felt outside of my body, like my head was on a different dimension. A heat flushed over me for a few days, I was terrified of going to sleep as something told me I would die. I lay in bed whispering into my phone, posting to Instagram. Some of the videos are in my other post from back here. I took Seroquel to force myself to sleep as I was sure I was bordering on ‘mania’.
In under a week of his passing, my head felt to be sunken in. Something told me, ‘this is Gut’s trauma’. No, don’t ask me how I knew this, it is impossible to explain the way thoughts flowed into my head. I went to stinking university with this dark sunken in feeling in my head. Like a pebble in a jar of molasses, the best way I can describe it.
That same evening as I returned home and sadly began to re-heat spaghetti, the feeling faded. Not subtly overnight with a good nights sleep, but faded in an instant.
I was petrified, and stared horrified into the mirror backing in the kitchen. What was happening to me? Above all the confusion, something told me, ‘this is the true world‘. I would gladly take frightening experiences over the lying world I had known.
This is where the world began to come undone. My instinct was to call my dad, but he was out for the night. I wandered into the back room, preparing to lose myself in sleep as I sadly often did, when something happened.
Music played on my laptop from the other room.
I froze, did I sit on my phone or something? My phone was in my bedroom, out of my hands. I crept into the rumpus (craft) room and peered at my Surface Pro.
Anime songs were playing from Spotify. I must be hacked, I thought and was about to touch the computer when the fantastic happened.
Something guided me in dance, I moved unlike I ever though was possible, and it wasn’t my doing. Still bound by the laws of gravity but something breathed through me. I tossed my head back at the ceiling and laughed, ‘I knew you were real!’. There went my atheism, sent flying out the window.
I lost myself in this cosmic rapture to around 5 ‘anime’ songs, before realising my dad was home. When my dad entered the craft room, a terror seized my heart. Something told me, my dad was evil. (My dad is not, that is why it is painful to say this in retrospect).
‘Are you ok? Had dinner?” He asked. I said I did, and slunk away. After he was out of view, that was when I packed a tiny brown satchel, donned my large green coat and guided by this puppeting spirit, ran away from home.
As I left, I turned my head to the stars, and saw what I call the ‘star people‘. These twitching human shapes guided me throughout Adelaide into places I didn’t even know existed. For some reason, this night is hard to describe because it was so fantastical and involved me gawking and talking up to these forces, letting them guide me where I was supposed to go.
I saw yet another thing I never want to forget, a strange fake moon-like orb guided me. It had a tail to it like an eyeball tendon, but beautifully illuminated a patch of sky. Yes I don’t expect anyone to believe in these apparitions, but it happened to me. It must have existed to guide me during this long night.
In the longest night ever, I wandered all the way to Belair, hours walk away from my home by the sea. Along the way, I was interrogated by a employee at some strange plant facility. She gave me some soggy sandwiches and I went on my way. Then I stole persimmons from a garden, taking only what a fairy needed. I then reached a caravan park where the spirit urged me to walk up a steep hill. Dawn was approaching and I went well past a walking trail and ended up on someone’s farm property. This is the first time where I saw a vision in the clouds, of a massive hawk flying over the city outskirts, up and over me. Hands down the most beautiful dawn of my entire life, and who would ever believe this shit.
I slid down into bushland and did perilous bush-whacking climbing the ochre ridges alongside the expressway. After much risky bushwhacking I reached the city.
Weirder things began to happen with the morning light. I saw Berserk themed sculptural pieces formed in the clouds. Yeah, batshit insane right there. I saw the end of conviction arc Griffith standing resplendently over the Adelaide CBD, the conviction tower falling to pieces in the background. I lay down on a park bench and when I moved, the pattern formed a gorgeous chiaroscuro artwork of Guts and Griffith, both facing opposite directions. Even more unlikely to be believed, as much as Jesus in toast.
Why wasn’t I losing my shit. Screaming. Terrified? Because it was better than fucking uni French homework. Also, my head was on another level of existence. Everything was sparkling and beautiful and soft.
After more Berserk ‘hallucinations’ in the clouds, I even went to a homeless center and got some tea and bikkies. I walked out without my shoes on much to the shock of people around me. My feet were killing me but still this spirit, or what I consider many spirits, urged me to keep moving.
I bummed about in the parklands for a few hours, I marveled at the laugher of school children who ran around me in the park. After some time, I moved on. A lady was playing the erhu so I span like a lunatic and felt the world caress me. I then noticed an aboriginal family and, as I accepted free will was a lie, I was pulled towards them by this otherwordly force.
They stopped at a playground by East terrace that is shaped like a castle. I wandered the perimeter and tried to look natural.
“Vela?” A familiar voice said.
I turned and there was my aunt, walking her dog with concern etched into her brow.
“Oh no” I uttered and ran to the swings to try and get away. She walked off with her phone to inevitably call my Dad.
Before long, the most fantastical moment happened. The aboriginal child with long black straight hair locked eyes with me from up in the castle. I dropped my bag in awe. I was certain this child was Moonlight Boy, the spirit of Australia, something something, yet another spiritually, mystically significant metaphor that makes no sense to others.
“You can come play if you want”. So this is where it gets weird. Since I’m a young woman I got away with this. I entered the cramped play structure and went to the top. The child pointed out the windows.
“See those goblins, you can’t let them get up here. So pew, shoot em with this. And don’t leave the castle”.
He handed me an invisible bow and arrow, or some other weapon.
This is where like a character in a Shakespeare play, my personality took on something unlike ever before. I think I am the shapeshifter, the malleable jester here to entertain, something to be fiddled with at the whim of Gods. That, and I was little Griffith.
“Are you a boy or a girl?” He asked me. I had medium length red hair. He must have sensed this mysterious aura emanating from me, I’m sure of it.
“I really don’t know”. I said.
So we set about killing goblins. Before long, familiar bodies turned up. My friend, my brother and his girlfriend, all there to try and take me home. As I looked around, I realised the child and his siblings has vanished.
To keep it short, my friend seemed to take ownership and police were called in.
“We just want to make sure you’re safe. We’ll take you to the RAH (Royal Adelaide Hospital)”.
“No I can’t leave, don’t you get it!”
I did some screaming, but after shuffling in a tribal dance, I was certain I had protected some spirit that had been trapped in the playhouse. I felt sharp warm paws clinging to my upper back, this I cannot fake. The reason I couldn’t leave the castle was in order to do this, surely.
When I looked to the clouds as the police took me away, I saw a pantheon of jolly faces, faces warped in hysterical laugher. The clouds shifted when I looked again, to whales, kangaroos, and dragons. Oh, that is the little boys dream, a fantastical world with dragons.
This was all in June before the spoiler at the end of Berserk, but from this experience meeting Moonlight Boy, I decided that from my wild adventure, the purest moral from Griffith’s perspective in Berserk is to make your dream take on someone else’s dream. That is what Griffith does, with the deceased child who wished to be a knight.
That is when they took me to the RAH. I was taken to Glenside ward and tossed in with drug people somehow. I met a plethora of people who mostly went on about drugs, conspiracies and ‘the system’. I tried to share my wonderous story, but it fell on deaf ears.
After I was released, I saw even more amazing things when I ran away from home a second time. I learnt my lesson the second time round the hard way, that running away in the dark depths of an Adelaide winter is not very smart.
To sum up….
I have far more to say, but I am doubtful many people will read to the bottom of such a long blog post. I would like to write a novel on my experiences someday, when I learn how to write better.
These things are incredibly brain wracking to write about, it constantly comes across as just coincidences and hunches rather than what they truly are, supernatural experiences with the unknown.
What I call a ‘spirit’ will always be vague. Maybe it is a God, or many Gods, but good forces exist. They have a power to guide my thoughts and guide my body.
Overall, I don’t know why I am the only one to experience such things, over and over. Dominating my years ever since my psychosis in 2020. I believe I have some greater purpose, and that it isn’t right to torture a soul with beauty without reason. Maybe I was chosen at random, but I cannot continue to strain my brain wondering why I’ve experienced what I have.
All I know is it continues to happen to me. I’ll welcome this fantasy because I have no option to tell it to leave.
Thanks for reading.