I don’t know how I’ve made it through the last 18 months.
I think it has to do with my mind being fractured, so if I don’t have a summarizing list in front of me all at once, I only remember bits of this, and life seems doable.
My mind has a lot of compartments, I guess, so memories of one alter can hide from other alters, so each part of me only remembers a little, which makes it not so overwhelming. (I do have a hard time, though, remembering people – not a good quality for business competence.)
But when all my parts see all the events together, we all remember, and it’s a lot of stuff. I’m pretty overwhelmed right now by what I posted yesterday.
(And what irony that I just did a radio interview last week, about healing. At least I was honest and called myself “in the process of healing.” And what a process it is.)
So, even though I’m chronically forgetful, I work, stay happy, sing, do good things in my community, and enjoy a constellation of friends who either don’t know about this stuff or have heard it and dismissed it – I don’t know. No one asks me about it. Maybe no one reads it. Maybe my blogs go nowhere, or into an Internet black hole, controlled by who-knows-who. Or maybe everyone is as forgetful as me – ? We forget what we want to forget. Culture certainly encourages us to forget.
But now, having blown my mind with everything summarized from the 18-month journal, I’ve begun remembering quite a few things that didn’t get in the journal in the first place – probably because it was lost for awhile, or I was too busy or distracted to write everything down, certain I wouldn’t forget…. But I did.
Things I forgot to count: the two scoop marks just a few days ago (!), April 9, 2012 (three posts earlier). I also didn’t count a freak-out I had last week about a recollection of a law enforcement officer who once arrested me for civil disobedience and who used to be an FBI agent, in whose jail I remember being in a very weird state of mind. (I’d always known and said that I’d gone into an “altered state,” but I never wondered about it till last week.) I also didn’t count all the times I’ve discovered the top of my head is really painful, like today, as if someone drug me around by a handful of hair.
My partner asked me what group I think is behind all this. I think it is probably a few different groups or individuals. I just read about “piggybacking”: a hypnotic subject can be hypnotized and used by people other than their first controller, with subsequent controllers “piggybacking” their control on top of the original person’s or group’s. And I also understand that MK’ers often work in collaboration, passing subjects back and forth between them for various purposes.
One group is very high-tech, weilding beams of electronic bliss which make me unconscious.
Another type is fairly low tech, requiring someone to break my door lock to get in, and using phone tap technology with bugs that sometimes let me hear it (purposefully, to upset me?), so I once heard a recording, ordering a “re-recording.”
Another type, I assume, is my multi-dimensional help – unless they’re the high-tech ones.
So, at least two, if not three or more, individuals or groups seem to be involved.
I put all the dates on a blank calendar and didn’t see any correlation to Satanic ritual dates (beyond a few that are likely simple coincidence), so assume they’re not involved (though many people with similar experiences do have these correlations). Probably it’s CIA. Maybe some payback from the FBI for my media releases during the Judi Bari trial. Maybe some secret “Greek” society payback for the few things I’ve published. Maybe Mormon payback for the things I write about them. Maybe some payback from the developer who lost over a million dollars when I spearheaded a fight that stopped his project (rightly), who looked at me with eyes that said he would do something evil to me, and I shivered as he glared, and worried for my children.
Could be anyone, or everyone (in a sense), little factions, gangs of psychopathic rich people, employing the underworld, doing experiments with their scientist buddies, doing the powerful’s version of cruising on weekends for kicks, blackmailing those they want to control, granting sexual favors to friends, practicing their MK skills – things like that.
Or maybe they all fancy themselves as cutting edge scientists.
In any case, they feel to me like psychopathic gangs with a variety of interests, from harems of ancient days, and Caligula’s court, to what we’ve seen in Eyes Wide Shut, Manchurian Candidate, The Truman Show, and more – many variations throughout time, flying under the names of research, slavery, national security, etc.
What I need to do is go after my programming, to disable it. I’ve been trying to position and strengthen myself to have it happen – or come to me – naturally, organically, but I keep finding myself “too busy” to sit still and do the meditation or self-hypnotherapy. I know I have alters that stop me or divert my attention.
I need, somehow, to make a commitment and keep it.
I am so tired of this. I’m nearly 60. There have been times when I thought they were leaving me alone, sorta putting me out to pasture in my old age, giving the old woman a break.
And of course there have been times when I thought I was healed because I became conscious of some significant program or part. I’ve had break-through’s, have felt alters come together, begin to knit and recognize each other, and have generally felt more conscious. But it seems there’s always more work to do. Or else, they renew my programming as soon as I begin to undo it.
Sometimes I get a reprieve, like last summer when Greg and I got together – thank goodness, as he got to see me functioning at my best, my normal best (though I warned him about this).
Now, I’m starting to stagger again. I accomplished next to nothing this week, except to work with my emotions around the new scoop marks, then review these 18 months of anomalies, and finally get around to studying them as I’ve been meaning to for a year. I guess that’s productive in a way – hugely productive, but it won’t make my living.
But now, seeing all that has gone on in 18 months, this realization doesn’t seem like much accomplishment for the almost-ten years I’ve been dealing with it. I really don’t know how long I can keep accepting this as my reality – if I don’t make serious progress soon.
Some people call it “being gang stalked.” Being stalked at all is horrifying enough, but gang stalked! And none can be explained to the police. So there’s nothing I can do, except wonder when the next shit is going to happen.
I’ve made a plea for the nation to formally acknowledge that mind control is still being done, and to, in every way possible, protect the victims and support their healing.
But no one wants to hear about it. No one in this community has ever broached the subject with me. I understand. I probably wouldn’t either, if it weren’t happening to me.
Sometimes I feel like a rat in a cage, poked, shocked, toyed with, and tortured, psychologically, physically, and emotionally. And I’m only one of many.
But maybe that’s all it is: We’re not subjects of evil beings, just experimental subjects of mad researchers, doing nothing different than what we do to other animals in research cages. Not comforting, but less personal, less intentionally “evil” (in a sense).
The theory gives me hope that, one day, when we quit experimenting on animals, maybe we human subjects will be freed at the same time, from our invisible cages.
I am very ready to leave this dimension. I won’t do anything to hasten it, but, believe me, if my cosmic family sees fit to take me from here anytime soon, celebrate for me. Today, I’m sick and tired and exhausted from this.
But if the past is any indicator of the future, then I’ll be out there, back in the world, acting like we have hope for our future, acting like we can change things, offering to design someone’s passive solar addition, demonstrating solar ovens, building a solar water heater, gardening, walking, singing, acting like we have a chance. I pray this is so. And I’m doing my very best to make it so. For all of us.
You can see me talk about this on my YouTube channel: https://www.youtube.com/user/ParadigmSalonVideo?feature=mhee Look below the feature at top for “MK Summary” and “MK Summary pt 2.”
Feeling stronger again, more inspired, in good part by all your comments. Blessings on you all! (And I just wrote another piece, preparatory to some work I feel coming on this weekend….)
Such beautiful writing. I loved seeing the desert in your youtube videos as well. The ‘trees’ in your house seem like they are your old friends.
In this post you state, “No one asks me about it. Maybe no one reads it. Maybe my blogs go nowhere, or into an Internet black hole, controlled by who-knows-who.”
I sometimes feel this way about my writing as well, and other times not. Like trees, I apparantly have seasons of fullness, deciduousness and then re-budding. When I feel the presence of the void feels heavy, I try and remember that old adage that reminds us to, “Dance Like No One is Looking”. And I tell myself, “Write Like No One is Reading”. I think it turns out better that way anyway.
When geese migrate, the ones toward the back of the ‘v’ who are drafting off those in front with the heavy wind-shear, honk in encouragement to those ahead to remind them that others, just like them, who are also on the long journey to more hospitable lands, know they are not alone.
Honk Honk, dear June. And keep writing like no one is reading. Best wishes for your continued healing, thank you for being a way shower.
Thank you, Annalie. I know that these cycles of emotion are necessary – purging, reaching, listening, discovering, and finally healing.
I’ll watch your site too.
Thank you for this! I just recently started putting pieces together, and was recommended to read your blog. I know exactly what you are going through, it’s so strange watching my thoughts and feelings being spoken by someone else. Thank you, thank you for stepping out into the light. Perhaps the more of us come out, the more we can help each other heal.
Yes! That has always been my purpose: to share what I know, to encourage others, so we have more data to work with, to understand. Thank you, too, for your writing, Alara!
I just wanted to say that you are not writing into an empty space. I have no first-hand knowledge, but I see sincerity in the words used by yourself.
Love and light – Centurion
Thanks so much, Centurion.
I’m prayin’ for you to be able to meditate, breathe, have some peace. Continue to heal, ( I hope this doesn’t sound hollow ) It gets better. Call me!
Thanks, Peg. I AM trusting and making positive changes.
And, for everyone else who feels as much despair as I do at times like these, I just don’t want to only post when things are easy. I want to admit that sometimes it’s as dark as can be – and it’s not just in our heads; it’s real, with serious wounds and damage to prove it.
I also want to admit that sometimes when things feel easy, it’s only because my fractured mind can’t remember it all! With a journal to help me “keep it together,” I’ve been given both a gift (remembering) and a shock (remembering a lot at once).
And it’s not right to isolate ourselves, as the culture would prefer, for us to suffer silently and alone. No, sometimes the honest thing is to howl. And so today I howl…..
I know you understand. And for that I thank you so much.
Howling is good!