Our brains absorb information differently when we are young, making it difficult to see things as they really are. But as we get older, memories come back that give us a clearer view of the past.
These findings can be disturbing or even frightening at times. Today we tell the brave stories of people who had incredible encounters that left them in shock and awe.
When I was five years old, my mother kept complaining that she was sick and would never want to get out of bed. Eventually, my stepdad took her to the hospital where she spent about a month. I thought it was amazing that her hospital allowed her to do crafts all the time; after she recovered she continued the projects with me when she went home.
I remember telling my mom that I wanted to spend the whole day drawing in the hospital. She sat me down and said that while she hoped I would never get sick like her if I did, there was nothing wrong with seeking help to get better, even if it meant spending a short time away from home.
I didn’t know the institution my mom visited was a mental health facility until I was maybe 13, at which point I realized I didn’t want to get out of bed. But she never made me feel guilty about seeking therapy when it felt like it was too much, or even just to keep a positive outlook.
I assumed everyone had served time in jail or prison at some point in their lives. When I moved to the suburbs and met people who didn’t know about jail or prison, it surprised me a lot.
When I was younger, I used to have a recurring dream/nightmare about a dark person entering my parents’ room through the walls. However, I will always be safe if I hide under the tarpaulin I made a fortress out of. For years I believed it was nothing more than a hallucination. However, as I was growing up, my father informed me that a man had broken into our house while I was playing and tried to take me. My mother, who was eight months pregnant at the time, chased him with a metal vacuum cleaner hose.
When I was nine years old, thirty years ago, my father told me that he had won coupons for free pizza and that he had a huge pile of these little business cards, each offering a large free pizza.
However, we only used them sometimes because my dad said we had to use them carefully.
Even though I was only nine years old, I remember my dad sometimes forcing me to order a pizza and open the door to get a free pizza.
In retrospect, my father was hardly a model citizen; he was employed by a commercial printing company. He probably didn’t win those cards.
When I believed my cousin and I was still too young to ride in car seats, my grandmother pulled over as we drove with her. The cop threw her in the back of the squad car and handcuffed her because she had an outstanding warrant for writing a bad check or something.
My aunt had to pick us up.
We thought it was funny at the time, but now I find it hard to believe that I saw my grandmother imprisoned.
It was real when I realized that spilling a drink or breaking a cup is no big deal. I had to reevaluate my childhood a lot after seeing my girlfriend act like a jerk while I apologized for dropping a glass of water for twenty minutes.
After Dad lost his job, we went through a rough time for almost a year. Every morning Daddy got up early to make us all breakfast before we left for school. dad also worked side jobs to pay for house cleaning while hiding our struggles from us. Because he was “overqualified”, he was unable to get a simple job.
My father kissed woman I saw for the first time when I was about 7 years old. I didn’t care because I was used to believing that a passionate kiss on the cheek was simply a polite greeting. My father walked up to me and handed me $20 for just standing there when he saw me watching him kiss a woman. Years later I learned what he was doing and was deeply saddened.
My grandmother told me she miscarried shortly after giving birth to her last child.
Around nine I told her it was better for her because my mom, aunt, and uncle are troublemakers. I was really confused when she got mad at me.
I had no idea how badly messed up it was.
When I was six or seven years old, I wrote a little note to my mom expressing my concern that it upset my dad when mom went out for the evening. I dropped the message on their bed. My mother handed me the note and told me how upset she was.
My father told me over 20 years later that my mother was openly having an affair with her now husband. To maintain her friendship with him, my dad really drove her to his house. Turns out my dad and my younger half-brother shared a home when she got pregnant.
When I learned the truth, it was all a huge revelation.
Two men came to the door when I was about five or six years old, accused me of stealing something from their house down the street, and started trying to wrestle him at the front door. They stopped when they noticed me and I was sitting on the floor about five feet away.
When I was a kid, I never really understood what could have happened.
We were at some resort; the day before I was scared by a jumping rock at the beach, so instead of going down to the sand, my mother and I spent the day near the lobby in a kind of children’s playroom. Suddenly the alarms went off so we went outside and I felt my mother pull my hand as we started running down the hall. I was especially worried about a picture I drew with crayons when I dropped one of my drawings and knelt down to pick it up. I also noticed ocean water rising at my heels and realized I had survived the 2004 Boxing Day Tsunami.
My English teacher assigned a free writing assignment in fifth grade. She talked about how the 18-hour days left her exhausted and she didn’t know when it would end.
I didn’t realize she was on the verge of a nervous breakdown for years until she suddenly stopped going to school in the middle of the year, which was about five years later.
I used to play in the park with a girl my age when I went on a day trip with my dad. She was alone; I didn’t know her. After about an hour, Dad and I left and left the girl alone once more. Where were her parents etc, my dad asked? My whole family started asking me about this little baby when I mentioned her in a big news article about a baby being kidnapped later that evening. When I was about five years old, it flew right over my head. Even after forty years, I still think about her.
My mother had an affair with a Spanish gentleman before my brother was born.
Mom would fax him every month from the post office to let him know how we were doing, how well we were doing, and what he needed money for, like school trips.
He believed that my brother was his son, so she used guilt to make him send large sums of money every month.
She sent the Spaniard pictures of our school and asked about all the trips he could take when our stepdad died when we were 11 and 10.
This continued until we were basically adults at the age of 17, 18 or so.
I didn’t learn that my mom cheated on my biological father, staged a pregnancy with a Spanish gentleman, and tricked him into paying child support for years on a child that wasn’t his until I went back to therapy a few years ago. My stepfather must have been aware of this as well.
We’ve also compiled testimonials from people who have revealed surprising details about their origins. They were stunned by these revelations and struggled to comprehend the shocking things they had just learned.