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, "what an idiot." I also glared at him rudely, instead of smiling. Next my parents asked me a question and when I heard the sound of my voice respond, I was frightened. It sounded as if I had Down Syndrome or some other major handicap. 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 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.
I question the effect that encounter had on a few other circumstances of my life, lasting to this day. I ended up having three children on the Autism Spectrum, which may have been a premonition, or may be 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 who did this, or are these merely circumstances of my life? I may never know.