Have you ever been visited by the dearly departed while asleep? Are "Visitation Dreams" proof of some kind of life after death or simply creations of your subconscious mind?
When we sleep our rational mind and ego stand down making it easier to receive messages from the great beyond. If we were wake, we would be quick to discredit sightings of a deceased loved one but in our dreams...anything is possible.
According to my research there are guidelines that separate regular dreams from these supernatural occurrences.
Have you ever been visited by the dearly departed while asleep? Are "Visitation Dreams" proof of some kind of life after death or simply creations of your subconscious mind?
According to my research there are guidelines that separate regular dreams from these supernatural occurrences.
- Dreams of deceased loved ones are the most common Visitation dreams
- True visitations feel very real and because of the vividness these dreams are not easily forgotten. They will stay with you for weeks, months and sometimes forever. Some have even reported they were even life-changing.
- You wake feeling as though you were truly visited. If you have to question if it was a visitation dream, it probably wasn't.
- The departed visitor looks healed and healthy
- They clearly convey a message
- Communication focuses on reassurance, forgiveness and letting you know they are ok
I decided to write this post to clear my mind space and connect with others that have had similar experiences. The dreams I am about to describe sent me into a serious funk and I sought help EVERYWHERE because they were weighing so heavy on my mind. I am only going to share a few because I had these recurring dreams for over a month. Dreams are gifts, especially these types of dreams but this experience was very overwhelming and almost too much to handle.
I mentioned him briefly at the bottom of my blog Let's Talk about Mental Health. During Christmas break, I received news that a boy I went to school with was missing then found deceased. Headlines read that Nick* was afraid to get help because of the stigma attached to mental illness in the military. We grew up together but hadn't seen each other since Freshman year of High School because I moved across town and changed schools at the same time his family left town. We were not close by any means but he was admired by my best friend Lexie for years. She even joined Debate Club with me just to be closer to him. It was easy to see why she liked him. Nick had these bright blue eyes, shaggy blonde hair and when he smiled his whole face scrunched up. He has this infectious laugh and was somewhat of the class clown.
Death always profoundly affects me but I was confused why his cut as deeply as it did. I hadn't seen him in 14 years. Was it because I still pictured him as a 14-year-old goofy boy? Maybe because I saw myself in him because we went down a similar path clouded with anxiety and depression but our destinations were different? Or because his loss reminded me of Matt's? Suicide is preventable...what could have been done or said to save him?
Death always profoundly affects me but I was confused why his cut as deeply as it did. I hadn't seen him in 14 years. Was it because I still pictured him as a 14-year-old goofy boy? Maybe because I saw myself in him because we went down a similar path clouded with anxiety and depression but our destinations were different? Or because his loss reminded me of Matt's? Suicide is preventable...what could have been done or said to save him?
He turned to me and said that he was giving me a gift, 5 days with him. We relived the following days groundhog's day style, beginning each day with our school counselor (Mr. Saucedo- neither his name or face is familiar to me) opening a screen door and letting us sneak off campus. We went around town doing different things each day and just enjoyed each other's company. As each day ticked by, I became increasingly nervous. When the final day arrived I was hell-bent on telling the counselor that Nick was dead (or going to die) even though I knew he would be mad. Nick dragged me outside by my arm and threw me against the wall. He yelled over and over "How could you betray me?" His nose started bleeding and his blood dripped from my hands. He threw a piece of paper at my feet and stormed off. I opened the note and it said, "Only you can help me" in red ink.
I woke up feeling every emotion possible and wrote it all down, including the number I was told to never forget. I wracked my brain for days on what those 4 numbers could have meant even though it was clearly right in front of me. It was the date he died but the numbers were flipped. Trying to make sense of something that there is no making sense of I questioned... Did he feel betrayed by someone he loved? Depression is lonely and did he feel abandoned because no one knew how bad off he was? Or was it all about me, was my subconscious taking his form to help me figure out something about my own life? Although at that point everything with me was going pretty well. Regardless of the reason, every night when I went to sleep I saw him, in different places and under different circumstances but the message was always the same, HELP!
A couple weeks later I had another dream that is worthy of noting. I was at my Alma Mater in American History class. The desks were arranged in a circle, I reached down to get my glasses out of my backpack and when I looked up there he was. I yelled, "Why do you keep bothering me? You don't even know me that well." His response, "You are the only one that will listen." He leaned into me and whispered in my ear, "Call my sister, Ariel*. She will know what to do." I remembered her from school, she was a year or two older than us. I agreed and "woke up" or so I thought. I called Ariel on a vintage telephone and all she said was "Louisiana" and I woke up for real this time when my youngest jumped into my bed. Not a whole lot to go on and that inception shit really freaked me out...Was I really awake now?
After days turned into weeks of being haunted by Nick in my dreams it started to take it's toll.
Everyone assured me it was just my own mind taking his form but even if that was so, how would you like it if every time you fell asleep you saw the dearly departed begging for your help? I was exhausted during the day and dreaded going to sleep at night. I felt myself slowly spiraling into a depression. I talked through my dreams with my friends and family, joined dream forums, and listened to podcasts on the subject trying to find answers or information about these types of dreams. I was desperate for some uninterrupted sleep before I lost my mind. Finally a friend mentioned that a friend of hers is clairvoyant. When she gave me her name and number I realized she was a prominent member of our community and was told to exercise discretion. Her name and profession alone made me trust her but I still went into this experience a skeptic.
Everyone assured me it was just my own mind taking his form but even if that was so, how would you like it if every time you fell asleep you saw the dearly departed begging for your help? I was exhausted during the day and dreaded going to sleep at night. I felt myself slowly spiraling into a depression. I talked through my dreams with my friends and family, joined dream forums, and listened to podcasts on the subject trying to find answers or information about these types of dreams. I was desperate for some uninterrupted sleep before I lost my mind. Finally a friend mentioned that a friend of hers is clairvoyant. When she gave me her name and number I realized she was a prominent member of our community and was told to exercise discretion. Her name and profession alone made me trust her but I still went into this experience a skeptic.
Immediately when I sat down she knew my grandpa's name who passed away in '93. I was adopted by my step father so there was absolutely no name association, that information wouldn't be anywhere. Then she mentioned one of my friend's fathers who had recently passed away, explained the circumstances and knew the history between me and this particular friend. My skepticism lessened over the 2 hours and then she mentioned Nick and what she said brought me to tears. I don't feel like I should share intimate details to protect his identity and memory, but what she said made sense of it all. She educated me on how to protect myself from these "visitations" if they were unwanted. Daily meditation and yoga helped calm my nerves and clear my mind.
In my novel, Emmalyn's mother is a psychic and Faye runs to her after tragedy strikes. "Whether or not I was really talking to him or if I was just speaking freely in front of Davina, I had to say what I needed to say." That is exactly what I got from this experience, I had to say what I needed to say and whether or not what she said was true, I needed to hear it. Real or simply a placebo, it worked and who am I to question it?
In my novel, Emmalyn's mother is a psychic and Faye runs to her after tragedy strikes. "Whether or not I was really talking to him or if I was just speaking freely in front of Davina, I had to say what I needed to say." That is exactly what I got from this experience, I had to say what I needed to say and whether or not what she said was true, I needed to hear it. Real or simply a placebo, it worked and who am I to question it?
The Magic (and Terror) of Dreams by Jamie White
Dreams are probably one of the most important things in our lives. And no, I am not talking about the "dreams" we have like I want to be a best-selling author ;) I am talking about those little movies that play in our minds while our bodies rest. They can be both horrific, and amazing.
For years, I have had prophetic dreams. The only problem with them was that they were usually too abstract for me to get anything useful out of them until they had already come to pass. I've had dreams of horrific things, good things and stories. I both hate them and love them. But there was one time where something else happened.
My grandmother had recently passed, and I was staying with some family friends for a couple days to recover. I used to get up at a certain time each day to get my grandmother's paper for her and bring her breakfast. About that time, I suddenly heard, "Jamie, wake up!" It startled me, but I started to think I had imagined the whole thing because no one had tried to wake me. Until I got home.
The first night back I had a dream. It wasn't anything special; I didn't see some amazing other world, or have anything out of the ordinary happen in it. The dream was just me and my grandmother sitting in her room, talking like we had done so many times before. I remember feeling so much comfort in that, and in the things she was telling me. It was one of those dreams where you couldn't help nut smile when you wake up. But there was something else that really cemented this in my mind as a legitimate visit.
I used to get astral catalepsy (sleep paralysis) bad. It's a terrifying thing where your mind is active, but your body can't move. Usually this was accompanied by a feeling that I was not alone in the room and an overwhelming desire to run. After a few years of that, it stopped all together until the night I had the dream in question. When it ended, a loud crash sounded in the house, and it was followed by the same feelings of someone being there and being unable to move. Checking the house later showed nothing amiss, and there were no cats in the house at the time to knock things down. Accepting what had happened, I lay back down to sleep.
To this day, I am so grateful for that visit, and for the confirmation that followed. It comforted me during one of the worst times of my life and gave credence to all the beliefs I'd been exploring for several years. It taught me how important our dreams really are, and made me more mindful of them.
To me, that is true magic.
Courtney loves acting more than anything, and dreams of being on stage. Her parents, however, don't feel the same way, and barely show any interest in her high school productions. Over the years, they've done what they can to discourage her acting dream.
When Courtney is given the chance to audition for an indie filmmaker, she is thrilled, but know her parents won't approve. Still, she asks to take part and is forbidden to do so.
Forced to choose between following her dream and defying her parents. Courtney's decision stirs long-repressed memories that make her question her parents' attitudes even more.
Her search for answers reveal truths she never imagined-revelations that will change the way she sees those she trusts.
Jamie White is an author, blogger and photo geek who loves music and all things paranormal. When she's not busy writing, she spends time with her husband and pets, takes walks, and practices reiki, chanting and meditation. She also moonlights as a pet servant.
When Courtney is given the chance to audition for an indie filmmaker, she is thrilled, but know her parents won't approve. Still, she asks to take part and is forbidden to do so.
Forced to choose between following her dream and defying her parents. Courtney's decision stirs long-repressed memories that make her question her parents' attitudes even more.
Her search for answers reveal truths she never imagined-revelations that will change the way she sees those she trusts.
Purchase LEARNING ME on Amazon
Good Night Lovelies! I am headed to bed soon after a LONG day. I hope you enjoyed the post, it was an emotional one to write. Drop a comment below if you have any dreams you would like to share.
"Sleeping is the only time to feel real freedom...because there are no rules while dreaming." -Unknown
Good Night Lovelies! I am headed to bed soon after a LONG day. I hope you enjoyed the post, it was an emotional one to write. Drop a comment below if you have any dreams you would like to share.
