My mom was in another country at the time, and I didn't tell anyone that I was home alone. I took 60 sleeping pills and went to bed.

I dream that I get out of bed. I'm wearing different clothes - a black dress. I'm going to the kitchen. I'm standing on the windowsill and waiting for the signal. It was clear sunny weather, lots of light, blue sky. There was an abandoned school next to the house. I see a burning helicopter flying from above and crashing into this school. There is an explosion. I understand that this is a signal and I have to go. I jump down from the window, but I fly up, as if in a transparent elevator. I feel boundless lightness, weightlessness. The sky turned white; it was the first floor, and the higher I climbed, the darker the sky became. The seventh heaven is absolute darkness, emptiness. I understand that I need to go there, but the elevator stopped between the 6th and 7th floors. Someone was standing behind my right shoulder. I thought, "What keeps me here (in real life)?" I haven't found an answer, but it definitely is. I really didn't want to come back to life, but someone grabbed my arms and legs and pulled me down sharply. I woke up.

My mom was already at home and didn't realize that the verse I wrote was actually a suicide note. I realize I've been asleep all weekend. There were half-soaked pills around my head. I probably threw up.

Since then, for several years during sleep, I had seizures similar to epilepsy. I woke up in the middle of the night in strange poses that are impossible in a normal state. It seemed to me all the time that someone was ill next to me.

Two years later, I began to see a glow around people and objects, strange shadows. I have studiously avoided this. There was some connection with dead people. In my dreams, I always accompany them somewhere. I do not know if it was a mind game.

By the age of 18, all this has passed, but it still appears periodically. At the age of 15 to 18, I started hearing voices that caused severe insomnia. There were many of them, and they were in other languages. Over time, I learned to understand them. I tried to shout to them, someone heard, but did not attach importance. And one day a girl told me about the Archangel Michael. But trying to keep up with her, I got lost. I don't believe in angels and I don't understand why they told me that.