I’ll come right out of the gate with a pretty controversial opinion: I do not believe in ghosts. I have tried for years to understand the concept of spirits and various other versions of the afterlife on Earth and I just can’t seem to comprehend it. So, after consistently pondering over this complicated relationship with the supernatural, I decided one thing: Even though I firmly do not believe in ghosts, I really wish I did.
My experience with ghosts, and my questionable beliefs began and ended with my Aunt Kristy. I had never even considered the idea that ghosts may be real (or not) until I found out that my aunt was a ghost fanatic.
Kristy lives in Sarasota, Fla., while the rest of her family, including me, resides in Buffalo. Because of this long distance, we really only get to see her once or twice a year but she always makes the trip up north for Christmas and New Year’s Eve. Over the past few years, we’ve been using these trips to explore supposedly haunted places around our home.
The first excursion we ever took left the biggest imprint on my psyche. It was at a place called the Hinsdale/Dandy House, located in Hinsdale, N.Y. This was around three years ago, and at this point I was extremely skeptical and I couldn’t decide if I believed in ghosts or not.
The house looked like your normal, run down establishment with a spooky past to go along with it. I had progressed through the tour, less than creeped out, until we reached a closet in the upstairs master bedroom. The closet was supposedly home to a presence named Wilhelm, who allegedly did not like visitors and haunted those who sat in his closet. The guide told us that if you sat in the chair that was placed in the middle of the closet, you would be able to feel his presence among you, which is exactly what happened to my aunt.
When Kristy sat in that chair, she felt a pressure among her and was thoroughly freaked out, which is something that does not happen to my aunt often. When I sat it in the chair, I felt nothing, if not a little pressure to confirm the presence of a spirit among me, which I cannot say I did.
After we had left, the day had seemed unaffected by its previous events, until I was walking out of my grandmother’s house into her garage. I felt a sharp shock in the lower right side of my back, it had almost felt electric, and it was incredibly painful. I was a little freaked out to say the least and when I told my aunt and my sister they were convinced that it was Wilhem letting me know that he was still hanging around.
As convincing as this may sound, I still didn’t know what I believed on the topic of ghosts, it seemed as if my brain was too logical to understand the concept of the afterlife being awakened and present on Earth.
My suspicions were entirely confirmed when I found out I had a nerve in my back that occasionally pinches and sends me into a shock of pain. Coincidentally, it did happen the first time I “encountered” a ghost named Wilhelm, but I’m chalking that up to bad timing.
It’s been since this occasion that I decided I do not believe in ghosts. To me, it doesn’t make any logical or scientific sense so therefore, it can’t exist. I understand that is possibly ignorant, but it’s simply how I feel. That being said, I really wish I could just suspend my disbelief and entertain the idea.
I think it’s an incredible concept that would be a lot of fun to explore further and perhaps in the future, my mind will be changed. I also think that it can help some people cope with the loss of their loved ones and in that way, I totally understand where they are coming from. These reasons implore me to want to believe and entertain the possibility that maybe ghosts do exist, but for the time being that’s as far as my mind will take me.