‘Roy, have you seen a doctor? Maybe you should see a doctor’ – The Meeting

Not in the Manual: Where Humor and High Strangeness Meet

The work of a UFO investigator can be interesting and exciting, but the antics and shenanigans are literally out of this world. Join me as I delve deep into my ridiculous personal experiences and case files dealing with ufologists, paranormal investigators, and witnesses; this is the stuff that’s not in the manual.

Roy and I met a few days after I received his first email. Roy was tired; he looked like a man who hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in a year. He looked older than he was. A man who had been kicked so hard it knocked him over, and then kicked a few more times for good measure. His family was gone; he left his job, and lived on disability payments due to a neck injury. He was a crumbled grey piece of paper.

I had many questions, all of which where answered honestly and truthfully. Roy was not a hoaxer. He believed what was happening to him. He was afraid and alone. We spoke for more than an hour. He told me about his work, his neck injury, and his family. He never went into detail about why his wife and son left. He then got into his abduction experiences. They always happened at night, while he slept. He would wake up to that feeling in his legs. It terrified him.

He had never seen his abductors, and the only confirmation he had was the device they placed on his head, on that first night, to deliver the initial shock. It was black, metallic, and had glowing lights on it. I asked him how they placed it on his head without giving themselves away. He told me that he did not know. He saw the device; it was held so close to his face that the light from it blinded him because the room was dark. He felt it touch his head, but did not feel any pain from the incision. He then felt the shock and blacked out.

He told me about the frequency of the abductions, and that he could recall being taken about 14 times, but he wasn’t completely sure. He also let me know that he had suspicions that the entities recently began following him. He talked about how he visited his brother’s cabin a couple weeks prior, and his brother’s dog began barking at nothing in the middle of the night. The next day, he was taking pictures, and multiple orbs were present in the shots; the dog was even reacting to things moving around in the bush that neither he nor his brother could see or identify.

Roy then looked over my shoulder, “Whoa! It’s already three o’clock?”

I looked at my phone, “Yeah.”

Roy nodded, “Thanks. It helps that I can talk to someone and not be judged.”

You can be sure as hell that I was judging him. “Yeah, no problem. I hear a lot of strange stuff all the time. Sometimes talking about it helps.”

Roy smiled and began to put on his coat, “It’s good that people like you exist. I just want this to stop.”

Shit. Who does he think I am? Does he think I can make this stop? I’m not some witch doctor that can shake a few rattles and make the aliens go away. My heart sank. Clearly, this man was suffering from something; a mental illness, depression, anxiety, I didn’t know and, to this day, still don’t know. I’m not a psychiatrist. He needed help and it wasn’t with aliens or being abducted. He needed someone to talk to, a therapist who could stabilize his emotional and mental state. I can’t help this guy.

“I don’t know if I can make this stop.”

“We’ll figure it out. I’ll e-mail you in a couple days — I have some pictures I want you to see.”

At the time, the next words out of my mouth seemed normal, logical and they oozed common sense. I was totally unaware of their weight and the massive blow they dealt to his ego, self-esteem and feelings. “Roy, have you seen a doctor? Maybe you should see a doctor.”

He stood up to finish putting on his coat. He zipped it up. He put on his gloves and hat. This was all done in silence. My recommendation swirled in his head like a poison.

“I thought you believed me,” he didn’t look at me. He stared at the floor of the coffee shop. He wasn’t upset but he was annoyed.

What was I supposed to say? I chose my words carefully. “You are asking me to investigate your claims. I need to rule out every possibility. It’s not that I don’t believe you.” You can be sure I did not believe him, “I just need confirmation that there isn’t something else going on before we …”

Roy looked at me, “I get it. I’ve always thought I needed to be hypnotized. Maybe I will remember something.”

Roy nodded. He assured me he would start looking for a hypnotherapist, told me he had to go, and walked out of the coffee shop. I didn’t get a word in.

I left and went home. There was an email in my inbox. My nurse friend emailed me about the photograph. She wrote,

“Ouch! Is this your dad [On account of the grey hair]?
What did he hit his head on? Looks painful.”