Thank you all that responded to my first part with so much compassion and insight. It was a long childhood journey for me. No two ways about it. I never had another visitation, but my awakening nightmares didn't stop for five years. I became very weak the first year and it made no difference what my mother or doctors tried my awakening nightmares and my physical deterioration got worse. My nightmares always came in clusters and only at night. Peace for a few days, then a deluge of awakening nightmares. Then back again with a vengeance for two weeks every night. I lost a lot of weight during that year and was put on vitamins to stop my deterioration. Antibiotics were not working. After the awakening nightmares would leave for a few days I would play cars with my brother in the yard and be very happy. But I always felt lethargic, weak and listless. I sometimes went off by myself and sat alone. Although I had fun playing cars with my brother, in the back of my mind I always had a lingering fear. I became very afraid of the night.
On many nights, nothing came. Suddenly when I least expected, they would come again in droves. An old Mexican Bruja lady in the neighborhood named Dona Maria came by one day and talked to my mother. She said she heard about this little boy running through the neighborhood screaming at night. She spoke mostly Spanish, and little English. She came over and looked at me and said something to my mother in Spanish. I learned later that she told my mother that this boy is very weak. And also very sensitive. I have no idea why, but my mother allowed this lady to take me home with her.
I spent the next six months praying with her every morning, noon, afternoon and at night before I went to bed. She not only taught me how to pray in Spanish but also "The Our Father, and "The Hail Mary in English." Every day when we were not praying, I learned to speak Spanish and read Spanish. I ate great breakfasts and had wonderful dinners when I lived there. My nightmares went away. I had a wonderful time living with her. But things changed after several months. She came to me one morning and asked me: "Was that you walking around last night?" I had no idea what she was talking about, and said: "No." This went on for several weeks, and she kept asking me every morning for the next few weeks: "Why are you walking around at night? What are you doing walking around in the middle of the night? I can hear you." And I would answer: "I don't walk around at night. It's not me."
One morning she shook me awake and said: "Come with me. I want to know what this is." She was very agitated. Come here! Come here!" She walked me to my bathroom. Outside the door to my bathroom on the floor was a pile of feces. I had no idea how it got there. I ended back at home, and the nightmares began again for the next five years. After my next bout, my mother sent me to live with my aunt, because she could not miss any more work. I lived there for two months and never had a nightmare. After two months of living with my aunt and no more nightmares I went back home. Two days later, my nightmares came back with a vengeance.