My grandmother was a psychiatrist and possibly the ultimate of all skeptics. But even she couldn't explain the strange noises we so often heard in the attic.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
My grandmother was a psychiatrist and had shelves full of medical books - I was constantly sneaking looks at some of those. I was fascinated by the descriptions of illnesses and diseases.
Our family was on the lunatic fringe. My mother was always completely irrepressible. My father made crowd noises into a microphone.
My father always had people around the house who were famous psychics.
I'm always like, 'I can't believe I sound like my mother.' I remember running out of the house telling, 'Put your shoes on or you're going to get sick!' That's an old wives' tale, but it's like some weird mind control that I would be like that.
I don't believe my house was haunted. I think I had an overactive imagination, and I was so convinced that those around me became convinced, too.
I made odd noises as a child. Just did weird things, like turn off light switches twice. I think my parents thought I had Tourette's syndrome.
All my life, I had this idea that if I could unravel the mystery that was my mother, then I could help save her. But it didn't really work. We were close, but she struggled with mental illness and alcoholism, and it was rough at times.
From a young age I was obsessed with the mysterious, the esoteric, the paranormal.
My mom was a ventriloquist and she always was throwing her voice. For ten years I thought the dog was telling me to kill my father.
I'm a complete skeptic when it comes to the supernatural and all that. I've never had any ghost stories or any kind of weird experiences.