by Sieglinde W Alexander

When I was about twelve years old, my cousin jokingly called me a witch. I often seemed to know what someone was about to do or say a few seconds, or sometimes even a minute, before it happened. To those around me, it appeared almost supernatural.

Today, after learning about neuroscience and trauma, I understand my childhood experiences very differently.

Growing up in an environment marked by violence and abuse, my brain became highly attuned to danger. My amygdala, the brain’s emotional alarm system, was likely in a state of constant vigilance, continuously scanning my surroundings for even the smallest signs of potential threat. Over time, my brain stored an enormous amount of information about facial expressions, tone of voice, body language, movement, and subtle behavioral patterns that often preceded conflict or harm.

Long before I consciously realized it, I had learned to observe people with extraordinary attention to detail. My survival depended on anticipating what might happen next. Every glance, hesitation, shift in posture, or change in someone’s voice became valuable information.

As a result, what others interpreted as an uncanny ability to predict the future was, in many situations, an exceptionally well-trained capacity to recognize patterns. My brain was making rapid, unconscious predictions based on thousands of previous experiences. Because these predictions happened almost instantly, they often felt like intuition, or even clairvoyance.

This ability had clear advantages. It helped me avoid dangerous situations, prepare for sudden emotional outbursts, and navigate an unpredictable environment. In many ways, it was an adaptive survival strategy.

However, this constant state of alertness came at a cost. Remaining hypervigilant for years likely kept my stress-response system highly activated, with repeated release of stress hormones such as cortisol and adrenaline. Chronic activation of these systems is associated with increased risks of anxiety, sleep disturbances, fatigue, and other long-term health consequences. Although the relationship between chronic stress and conditions such as adrenal insufficiency is complex and still being studied, prolonged stress can significantly affect the body’s stress-regulation systems.

Looking back, I no longer see my childhood experiences as evidence that I possessed paranormal powers. Instead, I recognize them as evidence of the remarkable adaptability of the human brain. Faced with danger, it learned to process subtle cues with extraordinary speed and accuracy. What once appeared paranormal may, in part, reflect the remarkable interplay between biology, early experience, and consciousness. This heightened awareness became a survival tool, enabling me to anticipate situations that might lead to harm and, in many cases, avoid them.

Understanding this has not diminished the wonder of my experiences. Instead, it has deepened my appreciation for the extraordinary ability of the human brain to adapt, survive, and continually reshape itself. Similar heightened awareness and experiences that some people describe as paranormal are more commonly reported by individuals who experienced early childhood trauma, suggesting that what appears to be extraordinary perception may, at least in some cases, represent an adaptive response to extraordinary circumstances.

Paranormal Experiences and Brain Function
https://swaresearch.blogspot.com/2026/06/paranormal-experiences-and-brain.html