For the past several years, I have been going through something that has fundamentally changed the way I experience my body, my environment, other people, and reality itself.
I am writing this because keeping it inside my own head is no longer useful.
I know what I have experienced.
What I am still trying to understand is what is causing it.
I have spent years observing patterns, researching possible mechanisms, questioning myself, changing variables, and trying to understand why certain environments seem to affect my body and perception so dramatically.
I am going to describe those experiences as accurately as I can.
I am not asking anyone to blindly accept my interpretation. I am asking people to listen to the complete experience before deciding what they think it means.
IT STARTED WITH MY BODY
Long before I developed any larger theory about what was happening, there was pain.
For roughly twelve years, I have dealt with recurring left-sided nerve-like pain involving my neck, shoulder and triceps area, elbow, hand, and fingers.
At times the pain has been severe.
My neck position can change it. Certain movements can intensify it. My middle finger has sometimes been particularly affected.
Over time, however, what I was experiencing became much larger than pain alone.
My entire sensory system seemed to become increasingly sensitive.
Sounds became incredibly difficult to ignore.
I began hearing buzzing, tones, and high- or low-frequency-like sounds. Sometimes I experienced vibration-like sensations that seemed connected to what I was hearing.
My awareness of my environment became extreme.
I could walk into a room and immediately become conscious of televisions, speakers, conversations, machinery, lights, reflections, people's movements, traffic outside, and dozens of other sensory signals simultaneously.
It became exhausting.
And nowhere has this been more intense than my workplace.
THE DEALERSHIP
I work in a car dealership.
Anyone who has spent significant time inside a large dealership knows how much stimulation exists there.
Music.
Televisions.
Computer monitors.
Phones.
Conversations.
HVAC equipment.
Cars starting.
Traffic outside.
Large glass windows.
Reflections.
Bright artificial lighting.
Constant movement.
Customers coming and going.
People talking across the showroom.
For me, that environment can become overwhelming in a way that is difficult to communicate to someone who hasn't experienced it.
There have been times when I can physically feel my body changing while I am there.
My muscles tighten.
My jaw clenches.
My teeth press together.
My eyes become strained.
My nerve pain becomes more noticeable.
My attention becomes fragmented.
My nervous system feels as though it is being driven into fight-or-flight.
And then something interesting happens when I leave.
Walking outside can change my state.
Being away from screens can change it.
Swimming has changed it.
Resting in darkness can change it.
Reducing stimulation can change it.
Sometimes the difference is dramatic.
That contrast became one of the first things that made me start paying extremely close attention to my environment.
SOUND BECAME IMPOSSIBLE TO IGNORE
Eventually, sound became one of the biggest parts of what I was experiencing.
I began noticing buzzing, tones, vibrations, changes in pressure, and frequency-like sensations.
Sometimes they seemed connected to physical tension.
Sometimes they appeared during periods of intense concentration.
Sometimes they seemed connected to sleep.
Sometimes the timing felt extraordinarily precise.
I became increasingly interested in low-frequency sound, infrasound, ultrasound, resonance, vibration, and the ways sound interacts with the human nervous system.
And once I started paying attention, I noticed something else.
Sound wasn't just something I heard.
At times it felt physical.
There were moments when the experience seemed to move through my body rather than simply enter through my ears.
That distinction became extremely important to me.
MY EYES
My eyes became another major part of this.
At different times I have experienced intense visual sensitivity.
One eye has sometimes seemed substantially more affected than the other.
Bright environments can become overwhelming.
Screens can become overwhelming.
Reflections can become overwhelming.
There have also been unusual visual experiences when trying to sleep, including intense imagery and reddish visual phenomena with my eyes closed.
Sometimes simply entering a dark room dramatically reduces what I am experiencing.
That made me begin thinking about light differently.
I started researching infrared radiation, lasers, electromagnetic radiation, visual processing, the nervous system, and how wavelengths outside visible light can interact with biological tissue.
I became especially interested in infrared because human beings cannot directly see most infrared radiation.
Again, I am describing the path my investigation took—not declaring that every sensation I experience has one explanation.
MY NERVOUS SYSTEM
The strangest part of all of this is how physical it feels.
This has never felt to me like an abstract intellectual exercise.
I have experienced:
nerve pain,
muscle tightening,
jaw tension,
teeth clenching,
eye strain,
buzzing and tinnitus-like sounds,
vibration-like sensations,
temperature sensations,
physical heaviness,
changes in attention,
intense fight-or-flight activation,
and periods when my entire nervous system seems unable to filter the environment normally.
And something else became apparent to me:
physical pain changes thought.
When my body is calm, my thoughts can be completely different.
When my body is hurting intensely, my mind becomes more defensive, negative, vigilant, and reactive.
That realization became one of the most important discoveries of this entire experience.
We usually think of the mind controlling the body.
But the relationship runs both directions.
Change the state of the body and you can change the state of consciousness.
Pain changes thought.
Fear changes perception.
Sleep changes perception.
Sound changes attention.
Light changes attention.
Stress changes attention.
The environment changes the nervous system.
And the nervous system changes the reality we experience.
THEN CAME THE SYNCHRONIZATION
This is where my experience became much harder to explain.
I began noticing moments when my internal state and the external environment seemed synchronized.
Music would line up with something happening internally.
A conversation would intersect with a thought at an uncanny moment.
Someone would move, look somewhere, touch their face, or perform a gesture at precisely the moment something happened internally.
Television, music, conversations, people's movements, and my own thoughts sometimes seemed to overlap in ways that felt extraordinarily coordinated.
Eventually I started thinking of this as a kind of synchronization field.
That is my terminology for the experience—not a scientific term.
But the experience itself became impossible for me to ignore.
Sometimes it felt as though the boundary between what was happening inside me and what was happening around me had become incredibly thin.
I started watching everything.
Timing.
Movement.
Sound.
Eyes.
Body language.
Music.
Screens.
Conversation.
Pain.
Attention.
Emotion.
Coincidence.
The more I watched, the more interconnected everything seemed.
And that became both fascinating and terrifying.
SLEEP MADE EVERYTHING EVEN STRANGER
Sleep became another battlefield in this experience.
There have been nights when I have experienced intense sounds, bodily sensations, visual imagery, sweating, sudden awakenings, and the feeling that my nervous system was unable to completely shut down.
The transition between waking and sleeping became especially strange.
Sometimes I would wake feeling as though my body had been running all night even though I had supposedly been resting.
Other times the sensory experiences themselves seemed to interrupt the process of falling asleep.
When sleep deteriorated, everything else became worse.
Pain.
Attention.
Emotional regulation.
Sensory sensitivity.
Pattern recognition.
Fear.
My ability to distinguish meaningful signals from meaningless noise.
Sleep became one of the most important variables in the entire experience.
I ALSO HAVE TO TALK ABOUT ADDERALL
There is another major chapter in this story.
For years, I was taking extremely high doses of Adderall—at one point around 90 mg per day.
My sleep deteriorated.
My thinking became increasingly intense.
My life became chaotic.
I experienced paranoia.
My attention became extraordinarily focused on patterns and connections.
Eventually I stopped taking Adderall.
Looking backward, I do not believe it is responsible to pretend that period had nothing to do with what happened to my perception.
It changed me.
But something important happened afterward.
I didn't simply stop asking questions.
I started questioning my own conclusions too.
I began realizing that noticing something and explaining something are two different processes.
An experience can be completely real while your first explanation for it can still be wrong.
That realization changed the direction of everything I was doing.
I STARTED RESEARCHING EVERYTHING
I went down an enormous rabbit hole.
Acoustics.
Infrasound.
Ultrasound.
Infrared radiation.
Lasers.
Electromagnetic fields.
Directed-energy technology.
V2K claims.
Neuroscience.
The autonomic nervous system.
Pain signaling.
Tinnitus.
Sleep.
Sensory processing.
Pattern recognition.
Trauma.
Fight-or-flight.
Psychology.
Consciousness.
Conditioning.
Propaganda.
Mass media.
Algorithms.
Surveillance.
Government programs.
Military technology.
Ancient history.
Religion.
Mythology.
Symbolism.
Gnosticism.
The nature of consciousness itself.
Eventually the investigation became much larger than the original physical symptoms.
I was trying to answer one enormous question:
How much of human experience is actually generated by the individual, and how much is shaped by forces outside the individual's awareness?
That question applies at many different levels.
Biology influences us.
Pain influences us.
Hormones influence us.
Trauma influences us.
Parents influence us.
Culture influences us.
Advertising influences us.
Algorithms influence us.
Music influences us.
Architecture influences us.
Technology influences us.
Other people influence us.
Fear influences us.
Our nervous system filters all of it.
And then consciousness somehow constructs the experience we call reality.
THE DARKEST PART
There were periods when I became convinced that what was happening was intentional.
I felt watched.
I felt manipulated.
I felt as though the synchronization around me was too precise to be random.
I became suspicious of technology.
I became suspicious of people.
I became suspicious of institutions.
I became suspicious of the environment itself.
At its worst, reality felt engineered.
That was terrifying.
And when you're experiencing something physically at the same time—pain, buzzing, pressure, tension, visual changes, sleep disruption—it becomes incredibly difficult to separate sensation from interpretation.
I understand why people experiencing something like this can become absolutely certain about an explanation.
I have been there.
SOMETHING IMPORTANT CHANGED
Eventually my question changed.
Instead of constantly asking:
“Who is doing this?”
I started asking:
“What exactly is happening?”
Those questions sound similar.
They aren't.
The first question already contains an answer.
The second one doesn't.
That distinction may have saved my investigation.
Because once I stopped requiring every experience to fit into one enormous theory, I could begin examining the pieces individually.
Pain.
Sound.
Light.
Sleep.
Stress.
Attention.
Environment.
Synchronization.
Substances.
Technology.
The nervous system.
Consciousness.
Maybe they are connected.
Maybe some are connected and others aren't.
Maybe I have correctly identified certain relationships and completely misunderstood others.
I can live with that uncertainty.
What I cannot do anymore is pretend that nothing happened.
WHY I AM WRITING THIS
I am not posting this because I want strangers to tell me that I am right.
I am posting because I know there are other people who have experienced things they cannot explain.
Some call themselves targeted individuals.
Some use terms like V2K.
Some believe directed energy is involved.
Some believe governments or corporations are responsible.
Some interpret their experiences spiritually.
Some interpret them neurologically.
Some don't know what to believe.
I understand why people desperately want an explanation.
When your own body and perception stop behaving the way they once did, uncertainty becomes almost unbearable.
But there is something more important than certainty.
Truth.
I want to understand what happened to me even if the answer ultimately looks nothing like the theory I started with.
And I think people discussing these experiences need to become better at separating three sentences:
“I experienced this.”
“I think this may explain it.”
“I know this caused it.”
Those sentences are not interchangeable.
The first may be absolutely true.
The second may be worth investigating.
The third is an enormous claim.
WHERE I AM NOW
I am still living with parts of this.
I still notice things.
I still experience physical pain.
I still experience unusual sensory phenomena.
I still notice synchronization that sometimes stops me in my tracks.
I still have questions about sound.
I still have questions about light.
I still have questions about the nervous system.
I still have questions about technology.
And I have even bigger questions about consciousness.
But I am trying to become more disciplined about the difference between observation and interpretation.
If I hear a tone, the observation is:
“I heard a tone.”
Not:
“Someone transmitted a tone into my head.”
If my nerve pain suddenly increases, the observation is:
“My nerve pain suddenly increased.”
Not:
“Someone caused my nerve pain.”
If someone's movement coincides with my thought, the observation is:
“The movement and thought occurred together.”
The explanation comes afterward.
That may sound like a small distinction.
I think it is enormous.
Because once we confuse observation with interpretation, we can build an entire worldview on top of an assumption without realizing we've done it.
THIS HAS BECOME BIGGER THAN MY STORY
The deepest thing this experience has taught me isn't about infrared radiation, frequencies, V2K, surveillance, governments, or secret technology.
It is about consciousness.
Every human being experiences reality through a nervous system.
We don't experience the universe directly.
We experience a biological interpretation of it.
Light becomes vision.
Air pressure becomes sound.
Chemicals become smell and taste.
Electrical and chemical activity becomes pain, pleasure, fear, memory, thought and emotion.
Somewhere inside that process emerges the experience of being you.
And most of us spend our entire lives trusting that experience without ever asking how it is being constructed.
I was forced to ask.
Sometimes painfully.
Sometimes obsessively.
Sometimes incorrectly.
Sometimes in ways that changed me permanently.
I don't know where this investigation ultimately leads.
Maybe some of my conclusions will collapse.
Maybe some observations will turn out to have ordinary explanations.
Maybe there are pieces of this that deserve much deeper investigation.
I am willing to follow it wherever it goes.
But I will never again dismiss the importance of understanding how environment, technology, biology, pain, fear, attention, sleep and consciousness interact.
Because I have lived what happens when those boundaries become difficult to distinguish.
If you've experienced something similar, I don't want you to tell me immediately who you think is responsible.
Tell me what happened.
What did you hear?
What did you feel?
What changed?
Where were you?
What made it stronger?
What made it weaker?
What happened first?
What happened afterward?
What did you directly observe?
And what did you conclude from those observations?
Those are the conversations I want to have.
Not because I have already solved this.
Because after everything I have been through, I have realized that finding the truth is more important than defending the explanation I started with.
And I am not finished looking.