It happened on a fifth grade field trip in the early 2000s. We were going to an auditorium at a local nature center with the fifth graders of the other elementary school in our district. It was early spring, and with the exception of an end-of-the-year bowling party, this was our class’s last elementary school field trip.
I was really tired that day. The whole morning I suffered from brain fog. I remember entering a kind of detached euphoria during the bus ride, that kind of indifferent relaxation brought on by intermediate fatigue.
The fifth graders from the two schools packed the auditorium of about 200 seats. It was drab and windowless. Annoyingly, the air conditioner was on just high enough to keep me from being able to nap while we waited for the presentation.
Curiously, the presentation was not by park or conservation employees. As best as I can remember it was delivered by one or more people from some non-profit type organization. The topic was guided imagery meditation. First the presenter(s) gave an overview of the practice and its utility. It basically involves picturing yourself in a specific environment and imagining interaction. The goal is to reduce stress and overcome negative emotions, or traumatic memories if that applies to you. Nature settings are commonly used, hence why we were at a nature center for this.
After the introduction, we were taken outside to practice. We were told to close our eyes, breathe slowly, and try to listen intently to the natural outdoor sounds. The next step was to imagine ourselves in a warm wilderness setting. The speaker guided us through different locations, eventually leading us to a cave where there was a talking statue. We were told to decide whether to take the statue with us, then continue the meditation on our own.
After this we were shuffled back into the auditorium. I remember feeling a little weirded out. The reason why it was felt we needed this field trip was never made apparent. Looking back, I guess it may have been due to recent events such as the invasions of Iraq and Afghanistan. That’s my best guess and it still doesn’t explain what happened later.
Once we were settled down, we were shown a guided imagery video. In the background was relaxing woodwind music that we would broadly call “ASMR” today. A soothing male and female voice alternated narrative lines as fast-moving nature scenes played. At various points the voices told us to close our eyes, breathe a certain way, or think certain thoughts.
I was still feeling pretty tired and off-kilter. I was starting to get light-headed and I needed to use the bathroom. Our teacher was in the middle of an eyes-shut episode with everyone else, so being sat by the exit I just got up and went without asking.
I was in the restroom for probably five to ten minutes. I felt a lot better as I finished up. I spent a couple minutes looking at nature paintings in the hallway before ducking back into the auditorium.
I immediately became disoriented when I emerged from the antechamber to the gallery. The projector screen was now flashing. The background music had been replaced with what I think was an ascending Shepard tone mixed with static. Beneath this, I could hear what sounded like a human voice slowed to unintelligibility. On the screen there was a sort of swirling vortex pattern in which rapidly changing video scenes flashed. Most went by too fast to make out clearly, but they were unsettling. Several seemed to show pulsating and bleeding flesh. One showed a skull being cut open and the brain sliced down the middle.
After a few moments I looked around and saw that everyone else was just staring blithely at the screen, except one. I caught the gaze of a kid from the other school, seated about ten rows away, toward the opposite wall. I don’t know if the phrase “what the fuck?” was in either of our lexicons but it was certainly the substance of our shared thought. We continued looking at the screen, at our peers, then back at each other several times before a loud warbling tone screeched from the speakers for several seconds. With a soft static boom the normal audio and video resumed as everyone else blinked rapidly and continued watching like nothing had happened.
The video went on for maybe twenty more minutes. The other kid and I continued to make sporadic eye contact for the remainder of it, as well as when the teachers led us all out of the auditorium into the parking lot, until we disappeared into our respective buses.
My physical and mental torpor was thoroughly cured by then. On the ride home there was lots of chatter about how enlightening and transformative the presentation and video had been. It had clearly been a positive experience for everyone else.
To this day I have frequent nightmares relating to that brief suspension of reality in that video gallery. Sometimes it just involves recreations of the sounds and images from the video, and sometimes it’s a re-living of the field trip itself. Sometimes that other kid is there, and we look at each other silently trying to make sense of the situation. Often the dreams are semi-lucid and it feels like my brain is trying to process subliminal information from the film, or someone is prying around inside my mind.
Medication doesn’t help. Therapy so far has helped very little. Recently I decided to give guided imagery meditation a shot. It helps me relieve waking stress, but the nightmares persist. Moreover, when I try to apply the technique directly to that field trip experience, intrusive thoughts related to that part of the video I had walked in on take over.
I wonder if it would be better or worse if I hadn’t taken that bathroom break.
Written by HopelessNightOwl
Content is available under CC BY-SA
Image sourced from public domain: https://www.pexels.com/photo/rows-of-theater-seats-13936294/