Once I sealed the door to alien contact, a portion of that reality was moved elsewhere, hidden behind a veil (does this sound familiar?), as if it had never existed for me. But that didn’t mean the reality had ceased to exist. I was the one who had shrunk and compressed my ability to interact with it, at least consciously.
I had removed the possibility of such encounters from my life, so when, a couple of years later, what I remember as my “frightening nights” began, I no longer had the tools to understand them. I didn’t know what was happening, and I used the knowledge that was still active as key to interpretation.
Since terror and anger had sealed the alien door, to me those were spirits. Those turbulent nights continued until I was about twenty.
A few years later, I came across writings describing techniques and sensations associated with early out-of-body experiences, and some aspects seemed to match. I immediately embraced that interpretation, eager to bury and not feel what was stirring inside me — even though it didn’t explain everything in my case.
I’ll never forget the feeling of fingers pressing into my back. When I listened to my physical sensations, I could feel my own arms and hands… but there were fingers on my ribs that weren’t mine.
I had already experienced astral travel and lucid dreams before, and those were fun, not like what I was feeling on my skin or perceiving around me.
For a long time, I swallowed interpretations and techniques not to discover, but to cover things up. Everything got more confused, and the memories became frightening.
I admire those who can induce astral travel, I’ve tried, but it’s not my way. For me, the process must unfold differently. Dreams are used differently, and that’s why astral travel on command doesn’t happen. I express myself in other ways, and over time I’ve come to understand how important it is to recognize and express my uniqueness.
At the time, my parents knew my nights were often a nightmare. They saw the glare of my light always on. I no longer wanted to feel what I was feeling. I slept with my back glued to the wall, to be somehow less accessible. I prayed for protection, for it all to stop.
My mind was persuaded: as though I was making myself small, small so as not to be seen and found. But it didn’t stop events from happening. They were still going on, I was just less aware of them.
Other times, I tried to stay awake as long as I could so I’d be exhausted and wouldn’t notice anything. One night, I felt the event approaching. The atmosphere changed, even with the light on, I could feel someone there. Their shapes felt enormous compared to me, and I felt even smaller and more defenceless.
I was determined to stop it. So, when I felt myself being lifted off the bed, I focused all my attention in my mind and decided to project images to my mother, to ask her for help while she slept. I couldn’t move (and I didn’t hear that whooshing sound in my ears that sometimes comes with the early phases of astral travel), so I had to reach her in another way.
Instead of using the words I would have used if I had been awake, I used others, hoping to catch her attention, and she would notice me and recognize my request for help inside her dreams.
I cannot even explain how I could be so clear in my reasoning, but that is what I did.
It worked, because my mother came into my room and, at that moment, I opened my eyes. She told me she had seen me floating above her, asking for help.
At that time, I hadn’t yet understood how things worked, or how fear and sealed doors were distorting my perception of events.
I say this with the present awareness (2025), and I am doing my best to only allow a glimpse of it.
I am currently creating a chronological order between the different articles in this section of the blog, to provide continuity in the events. I’ve tried to reflect the mindset and level of awareness I had between 2017 and 2019, when the section was first created under the label “Shamanic Journeys,” now renamed “Early Contacts.”
Even though a lot had already happened in my life, the true seeds of contact and connection had yet to manifest.
What better article than this one to weave together different levels of awareness, like reminders, that draw attention toward a broader understanding, even anticipating future events, as it happens in visions.
Back then, my awareness was fractured. Everything had started with the “layer” that had settled over me in the first house I lived in, and over time, it had its function.
Given the importance of the events I’m sharing, I can’t exclude these temporal incursions, they allow me to create harmony around something that had long been fragmented.
The signs were already there… but fear had created obstacles and enemies where there were none.
Since my “friends” had said goodbye with a handshake, telling me they would remain, but in a different form… it’s clear now that things had to unfold exactly as they did, so I could reach the understanding I have today.
All those veils and conditionings, even those from the so-called “spiritual” world, couldn’t cover everything. Each of us knows how to go hunting for our own authenticity.
Years later, during a shamanic journey, I met again one of those alien Beings, the one I had always felt closest to, and I didn’t recognize him.
The context and modality of that meeting, on one hand, served to give a new direction to my personal path, to stir questions; on the other hand, it was meant to reopen my door.
The form he took, or the way my mind perceived it, was different, unexpected. His face had a vague, unsettling quality, something that pushes you out of your comfort zone.
Even during our interactions at home, outside any shamanic journey, he spoke of a connection with the stars, and I felt that was true, but my mind hadn’t remembered the past yet.
It was in July 2015, after a shamanic work, while I was reorganising my ideas, I finally blurted out, asking him to give me a clearer explanation
I still remember: I was sitting on the couch in the living room. The image I had of him in my mind began to reveal himself. In front of me, at least visible to my inner eyes, was an alien.
I didn’t worry about whether that was his true form. The image I was seeing was translating the sensations I’d had as a child.
I cried for twenty minutes out of joy.
“It was all true! It was you.”
I couldn’t say anything else out loud.
A first door had opened.
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