When I was young, I had a lot of paranormal and spiritual experiences. Because of my upbringing, which was very strictly Conservative Christian, I became an unusually fearful child. What this ended up meaning for me was that eventually, when I was seventeen years old, I made a conscious decision to "close" myself off to the spiritual world as much as possible. It had gotten to a point that I just couldn't handle it anymore. The fears were overwhelming, and I didn't want to live my life in fear. So I chose not to be afraid, and I chose to ignore any spiritual activity that took place around me.
It was not easy at first, but by the time I was about twenty, I had gotten to a place where spiritual and paranormal things really did not bother me anymore. Furthermore, I ignored them to the extent that they may as well not exist. Now, I have never been able to fully close myself off from the knowledge of such things happening around me. But my perspectives on much of it has changed, particularly that if something ghostly does occur, I don't find it noteworthy or bothersome.
There has been a somewhat unintended effect to this approach (though I am perfectly fine with this result). I seem to have become a sort of ghost-repellent. That is to say, often when I go to places that are haunted or reported to be haunted, I rarely ever sense any activity there. What's more, the people with me, even those who are incredibly spiritually sensitive, rarely sense any activity either. Basically, where ever I am seems to pretty quickly quell spiritual and ghostly activity. This makes sense to me mainly because I guess most ghosts and other spirits aren't going to want to bother with someone who isn't going to bother with them.
So to set the scene - the last time I have been in a place that is truly haunted to the extent that I can both sense it being haunted, and my presence does not silence ghostly activity almost immediately, I was not long out of college (I graduated in 2005). So it has been about five and a half years. There was a house near where I lived that I loved the look of. I don't feel comfortable giving out specific locations, as this is all surrounding where I still live. But it was a gorgeous little house that was brick and stone with ivy out front. I had recently moved into another house when I first saw it, and I noticed there was a for sale sign out front. I had a few moments of really wanting to buy that house... But I am a renter. Owning a house is just too much for me at this stage of my life. So for the next two years, every time I passed that other house, I felt a small pang of regret that I couldn't live there.
This house was vacant at the time. I have no idea how long it had been vacant before I moved in, but it continued to be vacant for the next two years. Then, one day, I saw that there was a "For Rent," sign added to the front lawn. This came at a time when the lease on where I was living was about to run out. So I gave the owners a call and arranged to see the house. When I toured the house, I just fell more in love with it. Then, by some strange coincidence, I found my name in the house. That is to say, there was an unopened package of curtains in the kitchen in a cupboard. They were one of those styles that come with a name printed on the package to identify the style. It was my name. Cheesy, I know, but to me it only confirmed that this house was meant for me. So I moved in toward the end of October of this year. Now, honestly, I had had some strange vibes from this house before. Nothing menacing or evil or anything like that - just the sort of feeling that it was not as vacant as it appeared. Perhaps a bit creepy, because isn't it usually creepy when you feel something there that can't be seen?
The day that we began moving in was what really confirmed it for me. My roommate and I were back and forth that day, all day, and moving stuff from one house to the other. And ALL DAY LONG I kept on constantly hearing someone call my name. It sounded like someone from the other room trying to get my attention. So I would say, "What?" and go look for my roommate - assuming she had called me. When I did, she'd swear she didn't say a word. After it happened a couple of times when I knew for certain that she wasn't even in the house, I twigged to what was happening. So I stopped responding. Something else that happened several times that day - The back door kept opening and closing all by itself. My roommate did not believe me until she saw that for herself, and then she got seriously freaked out. At that point, I started to feel very uncomfortable as well; but I may have just been reacting to her feelings. I felt a little disappointed, because the house was just so perfect... And then it ended up being haunted. But right then and there I decided, so what? This was my house now, I knew I was meant for it, and I wasn't going to let anything get me down.
After I stopped responding to the voice that was calling me, it had quit pretty quickly. The back door opening and closing automatically was ridiculously annoying, though. So I waited for my roommate to run back over to the old house to get another load of stuff, and I said out loud something along the lines of, "Hey, you can't be opening and closing exterior doors like that. I have pets, and leaving a door open could let them get outside. That is not cool, and I won't tolerate it. I'm fine with interior doors being messed with, but a door to the outside absolutely has to stay closed." And... Shockingly, it stopped doing it that same day. I have not had any problems with interior doors opening and closing, either.
Since the day I started moving in, there have been a few incidents. Nothing major has happened, though, and everything that has happened with one exception can be explained by natural means. For example, it is an old house - so creaks and groans are to be expected. The one exception was that there was this one time that I was leaving for work, and a baking pan flew off the stove and across the room right in front of me. It didn't seem like it was being thrown at me, but rather in front of me, as if to bar my exit.
I have not made any effort to research the history of the house or to communicate with whatever may be there. Nor do I have any intention of doing so. My natural ghost-repellentness seems to have kicked in pretty quickly. I have lived there just over a month now, and all has been quiet aside from the baking pan incident, which happened two weeks ago. I am not sure if me living there has actually driven out what may have been there before or if it has only encouraged it to be quiet and to rest. I tend to lean toward the latter, since I have made no effort to drive it out.
I realize this story is boring compared with what some others have posted - but I figured I would give it a shot anyways. It has been quite a long time since I have experienced this level of presence in a place where I live. And, as I said, it is pretty much dormant now.
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Grace 😆