You’d think that if you were watching a movie, and the camera zoomed in on the watch that the main character wore and kept checking, so tight a zoom that the watch face more than filled the screen, you’d notice the time. And you’d especially notice the time if the character repeated the action and the director repeated the zoom four or five times.
Not me. And because the time – always the same – was critical to the plot about time loops, I didn’t understand the movie until my friend told me the time was always 7:42 (or whatever; I don’t remember).
Realizing what I had stubbornly refused to see – at least with my conscious mind – was a powerful shock and an important and helpful wake-up call. My recent life, the last 22 years, has been a series of such shocks and awakenings.
It was the spring of 1994 when I realized, to my horror, that I was a “multiple personality.” In the 22 years since, I’ve realized I’m a unique sort of multiple – not the kind with random parts that highjack the system and lead crazy-making alternative lives for hours or years at a time.
No, my “system” [multiple personality jargon] seems to be quite organized in comparison, and even to function well enough that I’ve won awards and national and international recognitions for achievements in everything from news reporting and fundraising to videography and Permaculture education. This isn’t unusual for multiples, as many of us are geniuses.
My system of alternate personalities – I believe I have a wealth of evidence to prove – was crafted by psychiatrists and mind control researchers beginning shortly after I was born. My history begins with the CIA’s Human Ecology Project (a front for mind control research) on the campus of UC Davis, where I lived from age 3 days to 14 months. After that, we moved to Merced where the cousin of the Secretary of the Interior, Addison Udall, was my pediatrician. After my 1st and 2nd grades, for which I have total amnesia, my family moved into a new custom home that backed up to or near a home of Stewart Udall.
My history continues matching many aspects of the stories of other mind control subjects around the United States and Canada who’ve either published their stories, testified before Congress, or whose counselors or therapists have told their stories, or whose details have been compiled in research.
My mind control programming seems to have been constructed along the lines detailed by DC Hammond, the psychiatrist who first came forward and described this problem and its possible cure to the American Psychological Association in the 1980s; and by the controversial researcher Fritz Springmeyer, who presents a diagram of typical alters, scores or hundreds, constructed in shells, like a computer program, making it possible for someone to command a particular alter to perform a particular function perfectly when, where, and as desired by the use of cues, similar to pass codes, which access programs which are regularly reinforced and updated. So my multiple-ness doesn’t function randomly or dysfunctionally, as movies and books often portray, but precisely according to some Master Controller’s plan. Usually.
There are exceptions to this, of course. All us mind control subjects, for instance, writing books and testifying was not in the controllers’ plan. Because this is research, not perfected yet. Some of us early research subjects, from the late forties and early fifties, are in our sixties now, and that means that brain cells aren’t being replaced as rapidly, and mental things are deteriorating. What deteriorates might be “simple memory,” as the average person might think of it, but the brain cells lost might also be part of an amnesic wall or part of a program – meaning that we might begin to remember things we’re not supposed to remember, or we might begin not following commands we’re supposed to follow. Indeed, around age 40 – as brain research predicts – I began to remember what I wasn’t supposed to remember.
At first I ignored it, thought it some weird aberration, for which I invented all sorts of theories to override the one thing it seemed to be, put it all in a box, on a high shelf in a mental closet, shut the door, and didn’t think about it again for four years, until another break-through memory happened again. Then I repeated the process: in the box, on the shelf (saved without looking or mentally tampering, to maybe investigate later), shut the door, and forgot.
After another four years and a sudden crisis of cancer, divorce, moving with teens, one seriously ill, and a nervous breakdown – I went to a therapist’s office, listed my challenges, and followed them with words that had never crossed my frontal cortex until I heard my mouth speaking them – quite the surprise: “I think I’ve been sexually abused as a child. [shocked pause] No, no, that’s not what I meant to say. I don’t want to deal with that. I never even thought about it before [lie], and don’t know where it came from. I have more serious, immediately pressing needs to talk about.”
And so began my 22-years-and-counting journey toward understanding what’s been going on with my mind. The first year, 1993-1994, I coped with the shock of memories of sexual abuse and the spells of amnesia that had plagued me. The next 8 years I coped with the shock and self-diagnosis of Multiple Personality Syndrome (aka Dissociative Disorder). And the following/recent 14 years, I’ve been trying to figure out what to do with the understanding that I’ve been – not just a regular “multiple” – but a mind-control subject, someone with a psychological and psychiatric “technology” applied to multiple alters in me – created intentionally – your tax dollars at work.
So what does this have to do with not noticing the time? I can only guess, but I know that we can be programmed for any number of things, to support a program of any purpose, sometimes because a subject is being actively used for intelligence purposes (seems unlikely at my age, but possible), and sometimes because a subject is being used for research in new programming techniques, drugs, working with aging subjects, etc.
When I don’t notice the time, it’s easier for my controllers to use me and have me not notice.
In 1994, deep in my initial nervous breakdown depths, I was powerfully moved by the idea that it would be good for me to anchor myself fully in the time cycles of sun and moon and not by clock and calendar, and I lived that way in my hermitage for half of each week while commuting the other half of the week to school in the city. I thought it was a very spiritual concept, a psychic liberation from the broadcast mind control of Gregorian Calendar and chaotic clock; but it could also have been that I was given the command to stop watching the clock, so that I could be more easily used while alone in the desert. In 2000, when I began living there full-time, I quit noticing the time entirely, unless I needed to know.
If forced to look at a clock, as in the movie, I studied the craftsmanship of the frame, or the lighting or camera operator’s techniques. Sometimes, lately, because I’m trying to re-ground myself in time, I see and note the time, and then moments later realize I’ve forgotten it.
I’m still trying to figure out my brain, and try not to feel too bad for finding it so difficult; after all, the government spent a great deal of money and science to keep me from knowing. So I take heart in whatever little scraps of understanding I can gain.
How do we keep going? Maybe Spirit. Maybe our programming. I ask this question often.
In either case, it is usually lonely, because virtually everyone falls in one of two camps: it doesn’t happen, or the likelihood is slim; or they know but they just don’t want to hear about it, sorry.
It’s surprising to recognize how long I’ve been so compromised, forced to compensate with notes, notes, notes, reminders, struggling, lately overwhelmed….
Noticing, though, is the first step to healing. Gotta appreciate what we can.