I was around twelve when I saw it. I went with one of my sister's now ex-husbands, who, I guess thought it'd be funny watching a kid's reaction (not sure why they let a kid in, but I got in all right). Virtually all of it horrified me. The movie was quite ground-breaking back then for so many raw, graphic depictions (nowadays, it's hardly comparable to what's shown on even TV!). I just recall my feelings of dread everytime the mother, the shrinks, or the priests climbed those stairs heading to Regan's room. Like, "Oh, man! What's she going to do THIS time?!" To go from watching Ray Harryhausen films like Jason & the Argonauts to seeing this was quite traumatic! Guess it explains a lot about me! ;-)