2002
MY ALIEN-DISK CC EXPERIENCE
My story entails me being committed to a psychiatric hospital, so I expect nothing less than for it to be called crazy, but nevertheless, I share it.
In August 2002, at age 27, depressed and close to a nervous breakdown, I resigned from my job as a software engineer at an American Engineering company in Brisbane. Previously, I had worked in the UK for two years. I’d read a couple of books about UFOs but until recently knew almost nothing of Crop Circles. There have been occasions where I have seen strange things in the sky, but I am the first to explain it away, and although I once suspected that I had seen an alien enter my bedroom late one night, this too I have managed to explain away.
I was having a lot of problems with my parents at the time. They had been breaking their promises to me, lying and then giving me token gifts to shut me up. “The bearers of false gifts!” I came to think of them, “with their broken promises!” Like many people, I was also angry and frustrated with interest-driven banks and the corporate greed that plagues many of our lives.
In my time off work I became determined to reorganise my life so as to be free of capitalism, a venture I knew would be no trivial goal. I joined a network-marketing internet-based business and I spent a little time each day developing a business plan that avoided capitalistic ties and instead relied on encouraging community participation – An economic concept called pro-sumerism. I finished and printed the plan. The time-stamp on the document showed 11 September 2002.
By October I was close to bankruptcy yet manic with excitement. Needing money, I burnt all my critical computer work onto two CDs and sold my computer. I began to be overwhelmed by a series of strange events, such as the recurring three-knocks through my roof which spooked my housemate into a state of anxiety that motivated him to move back to his parents. Animals began acting strangely around me (also witnessed) and I was having bizarre dreams.
One evening, while making some notes on some ethical ideas I had, my hands seemed to simply take over and within a couple of hours, I had filled my notebook entirely with endless nonsense, strange geometric figures and weird poems constructed in a mix of English, French and who-knows-what, writing. Several doctors, believing that both me, my business plans and my automatic writing were delusional and possibly even psychotic, made me an involuntary patient in a local psychiatric hospital.
I cannot deny that I was suffering mentally. Psychologically I was in a great deal of pain at the time and I was becoming overwhelmed by feelings of intense coincidence. Hospital was probably the best thing for me, even if it wasn’t ideal. How much longer, I wondered, would I have to endure this psychological pain? I felt a deep disappointment for society at that time.
One night, thinking that I was sleeping, a nurse took my notebook from beside my bed then returned it a couple of hours later. A few days later I was moved to HDU – the High Dependency Unit – a separate ward dedicated to someone who either might be determined to escape or is at high risk of suicide. I was essentially secluded with only hospital-approved contact. During the time, one of the nurses began to bring me newspaper articles. One was about the discovery of a new planet. This was something that I had never discussed, but it had presumably come from a schematic in my notebook. Nothing was ever said except “I think you might find this interesting”. A couple of days later it was an article about the Bali bombing.
One night, having little more than the clothes on my back, a notebook and my computer CDs, in desperation I began to pray, for hope and a sign. “Give me hope,” I begged, looking out my window. “Give me a sign. Make it large. Let there be no doubt! Gods, angels, spirits, aliens, the collective consciousness, whatever! If there is something to believe in please let it be known! Is there anything to believe in anymore? Is there any good out there? Somewhere? Anywhere? Someone or something willing to oppose all the deception in this world?” It was a prayer, not only for myself but anyone who has ever felt this way and all of mankind.
Yet there was no great sign that night, no angelic apparition, nor earthquake, no magical bolt of lightning. I wondered for a moment how wonderful it would be, if someone could simply reach through the window and save me, and save us all from ourselves. Yet there was only a little voice in the back of my mind, perhaps my conscience, that repeated, “You already have your answer! Look in the fields!”
Over time I suspected “Look in the fields” might have something to do with crop-circles and over the next couple of weeks in hospital, I developed an unspoken fascination with crop circles and was determined to learn more. That little voice in the back of my head persisted, “Look in the fields! Look in the fields!” I would continue to doodle in my notepad strange fractal swirls, some interwoven with animals, and a strange alien-being made from triangles, and I scribbled the words, “Look in the fields! Look in the fields!” the usual type of rubbish one might draw while talking on the phone. On occasion though, as I wandered around the hospital grounds I noticed that other patients were doodling similar geometric figures in their note pads, almost exactly the same, one patient persisting excitedly that his ‘equilateral triangle within equilateral triangle is the signature of God!’ His eyes glared insanely and he was obviously sick. The picture was familiar though – I had doodled the same.
On my 28th birthday in October, I was questioned about my patriotism by one of the senior psychiatrists, then [I was] released. I felt this was strangely inappropriate, but I was happy to be released in to the care of a friend, even though it was under a compulsory treatment order, which meant my whereabouts and preoccupations had to be closely monitored for several weeks. The “Look in the fields!” continued. I went hiking with my friend in the Bunya Mountains, northwest of Brisbane, and although I did find some interesting things, I saw nothing relevant in the fields. Later I bought a book on crop-circles by Linda Moulton Howe which I read with great fascination but there was no great realisation, no great familiarity. What seemed interesting though, were reports of crop circles being interactive and some of those swirls looked similar to my own but not the same.
Until Linda Moulton Houwe’s book Mysterious Lights and Crop Circles, I had heard of crop circles but never seen a picture of one. I read the papers but saw no reports of anything relevant. I bought a magazine touting crop circles but again there was no great revelation amongst the articles and pictures. I began following up on some of the recommended Internet sites when finally I became shocked at what I saw. There was not one great revelation but several!
I saw interwoven dolphins which I felt had some message about ‘untransonic’ waves just as I had doodled, and there were those familiar mysterious swirling fractals. But most shocking of all was a picture of an alien’s head with a disk held in it’s hand, peering through what appeared to be a window, a formation laid close to where I holidayed almost exactly two years earlier. The code had already been deciphered from ASCII for me, a code that, as a computer person, was very well known to me. The news item at SwirledNews read: Astonishing New Alien Face Formation Causes Stir 18/8/2002.
Maybe the most unusual and to some rather disturbing crop formation of all time has appeared in the UK near Winchester, Hampshire. Making last year’s ‘face’ at Chilbolton seem crude in comparison, this image of an alien with some kind of information disc reaches new heights of sophistication.
The disk translated, “Beware the bearers of FALSE gifts & their broken promises. Much pain but still time. Believe. There is good out there. We oppose deception. Conduit closing. Acknowledge”.
The message, one of hope, I felt satisfied, was both befitting for all mankind, and yet at the same time exhilaratingly personal. I hesitate to speculate on the meaning of the ambiguous word ‘believe’ at this stage. Although I have some ideas, I have nothing solid but I do feel confident there be may several other messages hidden in the formation. It seems my prayer had been answered before I had even prayed.
I was initially diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder but this has changed to possibly post traumatic distress disorder yet no psychiatrist has been able to label me with any certainty. As fantastic as my story sounds, I have played down and simplified my experiences. I have plenty of witnesses and medical documents that support my story, and I would be happy to provide those details should someone express interest. I have been both an avid Crop Circle and UFO buff ever since.
Yours sincerely,