In 2002, I was walking with my parents at a street fair in Carlsbad, CA and encountered a magic dreamcatcher. I saw a bohemian-looking man with a dreamcatcher and scoffed. “Stupid hippie with a bogus dreamcatcher,” I thought to myself. My parents asked me a question and when I heard the sound of my voice reply, I was frightened. It sounded as if I had Down Syndrome. My apologies if this offends you, but I thought to myself, “What if my voice remains like this for the rest of my life?” I was paralyzed with fear.
A few people nearby laughed at the sound of my voice and observed what was happening to me. I was mortified. I ran away from the Dreamcatcher and completely out of the Village Fair, until my voice returned to normal. On my way out of the Fair, I noticed a male friend from college who I had adored and missed dearly. Fearing the curse of the Dreamcatcher, I kept on running off and missed the opportunity to reunite with my college crush. I never had another opportunity to chat with him again and blame the magic Dreamcatcher for the door that closed there and a few circumstances of my life, lasting up to this day.
I ended up having three children on the Autism Spectrum which may have been a premonition or the doing of the Magic Dreamcatcher and his mysterious owner. I do consider my children blessings, but wonder if their struggles could have been prevented. I also developed Schizoaffective Disorder in my twenties and on stressful days hear tormenting voices cursing me. Despite taking my medication regularly, every now and then, I hear voices screaming at me and wishing me ill.
Was it the man with the Dreamcatcher or merely circumstances of my life? I may never know.
Submitted by Danielle
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