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He first paranormal experience I had was when I was in the 4th grade. My Mom and Dad split up and we moved to a new house. Up to this point my older sister and I shared a bedroom. Needless to say it took me a little while to get used to having my own room.

When I would go to bed at night I could swear I heard footsteps going up and down the hall just outside my door way. When I would go downstairs and tell my mother, she would tell me it was the baseboard heat making the noises. I tried to tell her I new the difference in the sounds, but she didn't want to hear it.

One night I was sleeping, when my foot brushed up against something at the end of my bed. I woke up and looked down there to see an older man standing there looking at me. He was kind of short and older looking. He was wearing a blue "Dickey's" outfit like a repairman would wear. He stared at me for about 30 seconds with a soft smile on his face. He slowly faded away and I heard his footsteps go out my door and walk up and down the hallway 3 times then stop. During this I was scared but not scared.

I now knew where the footsteps came from. Every night after that as soon as I went to bed he would start at my doorway and walk up and down the hallway 3 times and stop at my door. About 4 years later I took over my sister's bedroom at the other end of the hall. I listened the first night going to bed and he was right there to pace and protect me.

When I was about six years old, I was playing with my barbie dolls in my room of our new house. It's a big beautiful new house. Yes, the house was new. I looked up, and I saw a ball of light. I didn't feel threatened at all. As a matter of fact, I believed it to be my dead grandmother whom I've never met; an angel. So, of course that sparked my interest.

From then on, I was interested in the paranormal. As a 10 year old, I was always on the internet looking for ways to explain what I experienced when I was six. I never knew my curiosity would spiral me into this world in which I do not belong.

I figured out how to harness my natural psychic ability. (I believe everyone is born with it.) I always liked to believe that there were spirits around me, giving me the protected feeling that my grandmother would have given me. I frequently would venture into places that I probably shouldn't. And search for entities. I would snap pictures and things like that, but I never came up with anything. It was a bit disappointing.

When I was the sixth grade, I became friends with a group of people who shared the same interests as I did. This was very exciting, since I no longer felt like the oddball in the group, and I felt like I could talk about things more openly than I could before.

They invited me to a Halloween party that fall. One of my friends said there would be an ouija board there. I was so excited to hear this. The night of the party, we were all in her room and talking to 7 spirits already. One particular spirit seemed interested in us. He was 18, I think. He told us he died in a car wreck. And I could relate because I almost died in one when I was 8.

Well, anyway, when I got home, and was lying in bed, I felt a presence in the room. But I looked, and there was no one in the door way. I played it off. I just thought I was scaring myself. For a child of 12, I was pretty level headed. As I was staring at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to come, I felt two hands run down my torso, gripping my 12 year old curves. I felt paralyzed. I didn't know what else to do but sit there and wait for the sensation to leave my conscious mind.

Ever since that incident, I've been experiencing more and more paranormal activity. I frequently feel energies around me. And I've become able to distinguish paranormal energy and energy created by man made things. And I often smell roses, cheap perfume, cologne, cow manure, and other smells that shouldn't be there, you know?

I also get pushed and touched quite often. I passed these things off as possibly paranormal. But I couldn't be sure. It wasn't until recently that I thought of the possibility that this thing that's stayed with me through the years could be responsible for my depression. I have gotten help, and I'm okay now. But for 5 years I was depressed and cut myself. I'm wondering if that night with an ouija board ruined my chances at a normal life.

There's so much more to my story, but I'm just giving the gist, because I need some answers. I want to know if I'm in any danger because of this thing I let into my life. If anyone has advice, or anything you think could help, I'd be more than happy to hear from you.