Hi, I am posting this in the Children's past lives section as I was a child when the following occurred (although I am now 34)
Although at the age I am now I only have memories of a couple of these, I have been told by my family that I used to;
* Have an overwhelming fear of men with dark hair and scream my head off if one came near me (my dad was the only exception) this even extended to my uncles who had brown hair. I was fine with the lighter haired men, even if they were strangers.
* Be terrified even as a baby of my neck being touched (to the point where my mum would sometimes give up trying to bathe that area due to my trauma)
* As soon as I could talk beg to be taken to historic houses (Victorian mostly)
* Talk about my house in London with the red door (we have always lived in Yorkshire, and lived in a house with a frosted glass door)
* Have the memory of being a man who has just purchased some new heavily starched shirts which I was very pleased with.
I am not claiming 100% I did have a PL, however even now I cannot stand my neck being touched, even by MYSELF! If someone even goes to touch me in that area I totally freak out, and if I do catch my neck (my necklace riding up etc) I go shaky and have even cried! Even seeing other people having their neck touched is unpleasant. When washing I always leave my neck till last, so I can 'psyche myself' up for it, when it comes to that part I hold my breath and do it as quickly as possible.
I still have the memory of the house with the red door (and the study) that I feel I used to spend a lot of time in. I don't know if this memory is connected to the one of the man buying shirts. I feel I must have had a well paying occupation when I had my house with the red door as it was a good size - a classic London Georgian home, with the traditional oversized door-handle in the middle of the front door. I have a vivid memory of leaving my study, and closing my red door behind me as I walked out into the streets of London (I have visited London a few times, with living in the UK, however the only times I stayed overnight was in a hotel)
The memory of the shirts is still there as well. I was coming out of the shop I had bought them in and I remember looking down and feeling pleased I had purchased them at a good price. I remember they were heavily starched with a high collar. The shop I bought them had just started selling 'off the peg' and had the prices on the walls of the building. The surrounding area was not built up very much, although it was a 'city' at the time (connected to the London memory?)
I also have a random memory of being an older lady than what I am now (maybe in my 50s) - walking into a grand ballroom wearing a beaded sparkly black dress (early 1900s style) I remember looking round at the grandeur and taking in all the chandeliers - that's all. In this life I've never worn a dress like this - in fact I have only worn dresses when I was a bridesmaid.
Another random memory I have is being a small blond boy (maybe 3 or 4) and I was playing at my house. I knew I wasn't allowed outside but climbed out the ground floor window anyway. I then remember the panic when I found myself on the railway track running behind the house. I remember falling on the track in my panic to run off it, and that is where the memory ends. (No fear of trains in this life though) I strongly feel this memory is from my home in America. The house was a white painted wooden house - almost your classic 'white picket fence' house which are not common here in England, where the majority of houses are made of breeze-blocks with a red brick exterior.
From as young as I can remember people have described me as an 'old soul' and I have always related to people older than me. I used to love visiting my great-grandad at his residential home and beg to hear his stories and look through the old photos he had (old photos are a particular love of mine, and I do find I 'look for myself' in them. Not myself as I am now, but who I feel I once was.
So, who knows? Some of the memories have stayed, the phobia of my neck is still there (and as strong as ever - try asking my partner!), however I now have no problem with men with dark hair (indeed, most of my partners have had dark hair, including my ex husband and current partner)
Unfortunately my memories (if that's what they are) are too vague to be looked into properly now, and at the time they were at their strongest (early 80s) the internet was just a distant dream so I have nothing to go on.
I am still obsessed with history, especially Victorian/Edwardian era, and my grandma was very psychic (interestingly I am the spitting image of her).
Any thoughts would be welcome. My partner thinks I'm nuts and doesn't believe in the paranormal. The only person who I think understood me - in the spiritual sense - was my gran, who I lost 10 years ago - though she did call on me several times after her transition. I am very close to my mum (I call her my soulmate) but she is very closed minded when it comes to this - even though it was her who told me most of the stories from when I was young.
Although at the age I am now I only have memories of a couple of these, I have been told by my family that I used to;
* Have an overwhelming fear of men with dark hair and scream my head off if one came near me (my dad was the only exception) this even extended to my uncles who had brown hair. I was fine with the lighter haired men, even if they were strangers.
* Be terrified even as a baby of my neck being touched (to the point where my mum would sometimes give up trying to bathe that area due to my trauma)
* As soon as I could talk beg to be taken to historic houses (Victorian mostly)
* Talk about my house in London with the red door (we have always lived in Yorkshire, and lived in a house with a frosted glass door)
* Have the memory of being a man who has just purchased some new heavily starched shirts which I was very pleased with.
I am not claiming 100% I did have a PL, however even now I cannot stand my neck being touched, even by MYSELF! If someone even goes to touch me in that area I totally freak out, and if I do catch my neck (my necklace riding up etc) I go shaky and have even cried! Even seeing other people having their neck touched is unpleasant. When washing I always leave my neck till last, so I can 'psyche myself' up for it, when it comes to that part I hold my breath and do it as quickly as possible.
I still have the memory of the house with the red door (and the study) that I feel I used to spend a lot of time in. I don't know if this memory is connected to the one of the man buying shirts. I feel I must have had a well paying occupation when I had my house with the red door as it was a good size - a classic London Georgian home, with the traditional oversized door-handle in the middle of the front door. I have a vivid memory of leaving my study, and closing my red door behind me as I walked out into the streets of London (I have visited London a few times, with living in the UK, however the only times I stayed overnight was in a hotel)
The memory of the shirts is still there as well. I was coming out of the shop I had bought them in and I remember looking down and feeling pleased I had purchased them at a good price. I remember they were heavily starched with a high collar. The shop I bought them had just started selling 'off the peg' and had the prices on the walls of the building. The surrounding area was not built up very much, although it was a 'city' at the time (connected to the London memory?)
I also have a random memory of being an older lady than what I am now (maybe in my 50s) - walking into a grand ballroom wearing a beaded sparkly black dress (early 1900s style) I remember looking round at the grandeur and taking in all the chandeliers - that's all. In this life I've never worn a dress like this - in fact I have only worn dresses when I was a bridesmaid.
Another random memory I have is being a small blond boy (maybe 3 or 4) and I was playing at my house. I knew I wasn't allowed outside but climbed out the ground floor window anyway. I then remember the panic when I found myself on the railway track running behind the house. I remember falling on the track in my panic to run off it, and that is where the memory ends. (No fear of trains in this life though) I strongly feel this memory is from my home in America. The house was a white painted wooden house - almost your classic 'white picket fence' house which are not common here in England, where the majority of houses are made of breeze-blocks with a red brick exterior.
From as young as I can remember people have described me as an 'old soul' and I have always related to people older than me. I used to love visiting my great-grandad at his residential home and beg to hear his stories and look through the old photos he had (old photos are a particular love of mine, and I do find I 'look for myself' in them. Not myself as I am now, but who I feel I once was.
So, who knows? Some of the memories have stayed, the phobia of my neck is still there (and as strong as ever - try asking my partner!), however I now have no problem with men with dark hair (indeed, most of my partners have had dark hair, including my ex husband and current partner)
Unfortunately my memories (if that's what they are) are too vague to be looked into properly now, and at the time they were at their strongest (early 80s) the internet was just a distant dream so I have nothing to go on.
I am still obsessed with history, especially Victorian/Edwardian era, and my grandma was very psychic (interestingly I am the spitting image of her).
Any thoughts would be welcome. My partner thinks I'm nuts and doesn't believe in the paranormal. The only person who I think understood me - in the spiritual sense - was my gran, who I lost 10 years ago - though she did call on me several times after her transition. I am very close to my mum (I call her my soulmate) but she is very closed minded when it comes to this - even though it was her who told me most of the stories from when I was young.
Although it doesn't exactly make sense... was it a lower level window? Perhaps there's just a blank in between the time you left the house and when you found yourself on the tracks. (That would make sense anyway, normal memories generally aren't exactly sequential.)