It’s late at night, and I’m mostly awake waiting for Hypnos to come tap on my shoulder and tell me it’s time. That said, I’ve had some interesting thoughts rambling around in my head for a few days that I thought I’d splat into cyberspace.
Vampirism. There are vampires that drink blood, who claim to have a physical need for the energies found in it. There are some that drink blood and take those energies for rituals of worship and empowerment. There are psychic vampires, both those that accidentally take energy and those who intentionally do so (with and without permission). Look up vampirism, dig under Anne Rice and Twilight, and there are infinite layers to the onion.
What intrigues me is the idea of psychic vampirism out of necessity. It’s said that some people fail to produce or procure the natural levels of energy most are able to each day. To compensate, these people absorb energy from people (and things) around them, filling in the empty space of their energy meters. Most of the stories I’ve heard of psychic vampires involve that “friend” that just brings you do and wears you out every time you talk; it’s never something nice.
That said, I find myself examining, er, myself. Even as a horribly shy little girl, I needed to be around people. I didn’t need to interact; I just needed to “feel” that someone was around. I had no security issues, as my mom was always home and my brother close enough in age to be my regular playmate. But as I’ve grown, I’ve found that I recognize distinct changes to my being when I’m completely alone.
When I’m alone: I have trouble sleeping, I get frazzled easily, I get listless and feel dull and lifeless, I can’t focus as well on things I normally excel at, I feel hollow, I’m prone to mood swings more easily, and so on.
When I’m around strangers or friends, this changes. If someone is within, say, 100 feet of me, it all balances out. I sleep just fine alone, if someone is in the house with me; I don’t have to hear them or see them at all, they just have to be around. Sitting in a room of strangers is soothing, the noisier, the better. I find focus and drive when someone’s within the same room, regardless of the task I’m using said focus/drive on. With my closest friends and family, I feel filled to the brim and soothed at the same time. I feel snuggly and soft and warm. And I can listen to my inner voice best when there are distractions, believe it or not.
Now, part of me recognizes that all of this can be associated with a neediness or dependency upon others. Maybe seeing a shrink would be your first suggestion. But I’m not sure if I’m getting the feelings across: I don’t feel lonely. It’s not “oh, I’m alone and sad now”. These feelings come and go without triggers or conscious recognition of my aloneness. That’s the fact that makes me go hmmmmmmm…
I’ve been researching vampirism (as a religion and spiritual practice) for another comparative theology blog. And as I read about psychic vampires and some reasons/methods out there… I just wonder, a little bit. Do I absorb something from being in a crowd that fills those holes? Is it something to do with my personal energy levels and imbalances? This is a thought exercise, not a proclamation of “I am a vampire, muuahaha!” It’s something to look at in the next couple weeks, paying attention to mood changes alone and with others, noticing what does and doesn’t shift. I’m really weird enough without adding Psychic Vampire to the list of quirks.
What are your thoughts on vampirism? As a spirituality? As a condition?
EDIT: After finding several branches of spiritual and conditional vampirism, I’ve come to believe that anyone and everyone could be considered vampiric at some level. We may not require energy from others, but we are all affected (at least subconsciously) by the energies of those around us. And when we’re down, maybe we do bring in some of the topical energy from those who improve our moods. Hmm…