Quick note:  my last post about the movie “Karla,” was actually written last May and and  after finding it randomly, I thought I was just giving it a quick edit, rather than sending it out “new” to everyone.  Not to worry, Friends!  I’m not having the difficult time I was when I wrote that first paragraph last May!  Things are quite okay.  Now on to today’s post….

1957 movie starring Joanne Woodward and Lee J Cobb

I just decided I will never again begin my story by calling myself multiple.

Technically, I believe I am – but I am very different from a “natural” multiple; I am a created multiple, and there’s a HUGE difference.

My alters (alternate personalities) do not (usually) switch spontaneously, and they are not extreme personalities representing personal repressed urges; rather, they are carefully designed “programs” which come out (usually) only on command, therefore my life does not display the crazy experiences of the multiple that’s been presented lately by the media, such as, for instance, the Netflix show I tried to watch the other day, The United States of Tara.  The show embarrassed me terribly because I guess it’s what most people think all multiples are.

But created multiples are very tame, even normal, in their social and work lives – as that serves the Controllers’ purpose perfectly.  For instance, I have never received any feedback from anyone that I have remarkable changes in personality beyond the common mood changes that everyone has under normal or even stressful conditions.  If I do switch, it’s not so dramatic that anyone has ever remarked on it – even after years of posting publicly and inviting comment and feedback on this in particular.  On the contrary, employers and other people have usually responded to me as though they perceive me as a trustworthy, talented, and dependable person (until lately – another story). Therefore, I assume I “present” to the world as fairly normal, or acceptable.

When I have acted like a multiple in public has been only a few times since grade school.  And those were all times of extreme stress, such as when a stranger was trying to break down my door, and I suddenly behaved as though I had martial arts training (I guess one of my alters has), in particular in using a knife to kill.  I was ready, bouncing on my toes, gauging where he’d fall when the door broke, bouncing the big knife in my hand, and imagining how I would arc it up under his rib cage with force!  Thank Goodness the guy didn’t get in.

The times I feel multiple most often – very often, actually – are when I’m home alone or with someone who’s also controlled.  And then I don’t do anything surprising; rather, I simply perceive things: sometimes I’ve perceived two alters looking at each other, or I feel as though someone is downloading information into my brain.  I’ve woken with bruises, burns, and other weird marks on my body (hundreds), and woken up in such absolute exhaustion that getting out of bed was extremely difficult and I didn’t recover for more than a day.  Sometimes I hear tones in my head which either wake me from sleep or put me to sleep or don’t seem to do anything I can explain.

All these experiences support the theory held by many that some of us have been mind controlled and continue to be at least monitored, but probably also used for whatever Top Secret projects our programming was created for – which is done under amnesia, so I have absolutely no memories other than the accidental slips, like the martial arts slip to save my life.

The result of it all is that I have a fairly cohesive functioning, sometimes awkward but good enough to survive, maintaining a decent front – most important – hiding an unknown number of secret alters that I don’t know anything about except, theoretically, that they serve the Controllers – at night, when no one else is around.

Because my programming was based on what the Controllers learned from multiple personality, and they used those mental defense mechanisms, my body/mind learned them too on a subconscious level – and sometimes I have “naturally” split off alters during extreme stress, such as being raped – therefore, I have another layer of alters that are “natural” rather than programmed.  And these alters do cause me a bit of memory issues, and sometimes slowness in social situations (slow because my mind is bouncing between different points of view), but those issues are minor compared with the nighttime events directed by Controllers.

When I’m with other people, the Controllers keep quiet, and I can lead a normal life.  At home, alone, or with another person who can be controlled, the Controllers may at any time, certainly without notice to me, call out the alters who hide during the day.

So I have a private life that can be highjacked anytime and leave me exhausted, with wounds, and in need of recovery time, but during the day, and with friends and family, no one is out but “me” – or a few of my naturally created, but not flamboyant, alters.  [As always, if anyone has witnessed different, I’m waiting to learn about it.  Please tell me!  And I’ll adjust my theory here.]

The new language I want to use instead of “multiple” will not really be new, it’ll be simply “mind controlled.”  Because the common image of multiples just doesn’t match my life – which is tame and boring compared to Tara.

I think I’ll take down this site.  Even if it helps people, or we think it does, it might also further tether that person to the computer as if it’s the source of Help.

Our Source is outside, and inside, but… not in the screen, except occasionally, if we’re lucky.

Let’s go to our communities of friends, plants, animals, and Others.

Bye ~

This is re-posted from Discussion Dissociation, the exact page here:
http://discussingdissociation.com/
2009/02/10/current-day-abuse-%E2%80%93-when-dissociative-survivors-are-trapped-owned-and-exploited-as-adults/

Below is the blog in full, except for a video which you can view on Kathy’s site, at the link above.

Dissociative Identity Disorder is created from severe, chronic child abuse, but does that abuse automatically stop in childhood?

Unfortunately, no, it does not.

All too many survivors continue to be trapped in abusive environments long after their childhood has ended.  Sometimes this abuse continues with the same family-related perpetrators that abused the survivor all throughout the childhood years.  For example, far too many adult children of creepy-fathers are still being sexually abused into adulthood.

Creepy-fathers don’t necessarily stop being sex offenders just because their children get older.  These lifelong predators already know how to manipulate your dissociative system, and they will continue to “call out” and dominate the child parts that they controlled for all the years previous.  The child parts don’t necessarily realize that they are in an adult body, or that years of time have passed, so it still feels like more of the same to them.

Typically, in situations such as these, the dissociative walls that separate those abused child parts and the adult host can still be locked solidly in place, allowing no seepage of information to pass through.  The adult DID survivor may not have any conscious awareness that they are still being abused in this way.

Scary.
And sad.
But true, far too often.

Sometimes, the ongoing abuse is more organized than in-home family abuse.  The sex slave industries can use, own, control, sell, and exploit dissociative survivors for many years.

Slavery didn’t end with the Civil War – it just became more hidden.

One of the current ways that slavery still exists — even in 2009 — is through the entrapment of the dissociative population.   Various prostitution / pornography organizations can “own” and exploit survivors by using physical violence, emotional blackmail, drugs, mind control techniques, and dissociation as means to maintain their power and control.  Extricating these dissociative prisoners from these organized predators is a complicated and complex process, but possible nonetheless.

Adult trauma survivors with Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) have had years upon years of experience managing severe trauma while simultaneously blocking themselves off from the reality of that trauma.   Dissociative walls can provide an element of amnesia that both protects the person from the overwhelming crushing awareness of ongoing abuse, but also traps the survivor in an ongoing continuation of that abuse.

If dissociative survivors have current-day chunks of missing time blocked from their awareness, they cannot know what happened to them, but they also cannot remove themselves or protect themselves from the ongoing trauma and abuse.  Without effective therapy and treatment, they also cannot remember or control the fact that they could be handing over their children to be used in the same abusive ways by the very same perpetrator groups.

Unfortunately, we all know that the kiddie porn industry is alive and well.

Dissociative survivors that grew up being used and sold within the kiddie porn industry are at a higher risk of continuing to be owned by, and forced to work for that industry even as adults.

When DID survivors are involved in current day abuse, it is imperative to break down the amnesiac walls created through dissociative processes.  The survivors have to have the courage to look at what they are involved with, and then have even more courage to problem-solve their way out.

Dissociative survivors trapped in other kinds of family violence and domestic violence are vulnerable in these same ways.

Trauma therapists must be aware of these possibilities so they can actively work with the dissociative population in order to assist them to gain freedom from ongoing abuse.  Therapy with a strong emphasis on increasing internal communication and lowering amnesiac barriers is essential.

Therapists need to use basic good trauma therapy while doing this work. Listen closely to the inside parts, help sooth the pain, create both internal and external safety, reconnect the isolated parts with the rest of the system, address the concerns raised by those internal parts in all the normal ways, etc.  Many of the very same processes that work to help heal “regular abuse” continue to be effective in addressing more extreme abuses.

***  To all dissociative survivors —
You don’t have to stay stuck in the abuse cycles.  If you are able to read this post, you are able to do the work it takes to remove yourself from any ongoing abuse that you are tangled in.    Of course, your perpetrators won’t tell you that you can get out, but you can get out and away from them anyway.  You are older, wiser, and stronger than you were when you were just a child.  You can find ways that will work for you, you can find  safe people to help you, and you can be safe.  Talk lots and lots to your inside people – it’s only as you work together as a team that you can beat the external controls.  It takes a lot of hard work, but if you all really want to be free from abuse and safe from harm, you can be.  It can happen.

Warmly,

Kathy

I was ready to hate this video, but I like what she says.

If you don’t have 22 minutes, check out:

15:30  incredible social media observation (though maybe I’m naive)

* 21:07  “…it’s time to stop…living the life of a program….”

!!

I rolled it back a couple more times and watched her say that again and again:  “the life of a program.”  I think I know how she meant that.

Thanks, Monica. 

https://youtu.be/H_8y0WLm78U

“Ayahuasca Visions” by Pablo Amaringo

(Previously published at MKGardenHealing.org)

1.  We live in a highly-populated cosmos, and our human drama on Earth is a tiny part.

2.  The beings who populate our cosmos include extra-terrestrial and/or extra-dimensional beings of every conceivable and inconceivable type and intention, with agendas that may help us, observe us, exploit us, or avoid us; they may be far more intelligent than us, or less, more moral, or less moral, dangerous, or “God/s” to us – and they have been described throughout time by every culture and religion around the world, including the United States of America.  Every religion and history of the world contains a part of our human story.

3.  Some of the religions and histories are for some of us, because they involve the beings involved with us in one way or another, either because they created us, or have taken responsibility for us, or they’re exploiting us, or have offered us salvation and we’ve accepted, or some other relationship; others’ religions and histories might have nothing to do with us, but are the essential history and teachings of others.

4.  The God or gods we experience may be loving creators, or they may be dispassionate entrepreneurs, scientists, or even slave-traders (depending on whether we use the Western or global definition of “gods”), or they may be like us, learning how to create and bumbling a bit, possibly terrifying us, but not necessarily intentionally.

5. Humans are evolving, individually and collectively.

6.  Some of the Gods, gods, or other beings may want to help us.  We’ve called them angels and gods, God, Allah, prophets, spirit helpers, devas, kachinas, etc., etc.  Other beings torment us, and we’ve called them demons, boogeymen, incubi, succubi, gods, mantidane, tricksters, faeries, trolls, djinn, etc.  Some names, like gods, ghosts, faeries, aliens, daemons, Others, Watchers, etc, refer to spiritual or extra-terrestrial beings without determining whether they’re good or bad, helper or tormentor.  Some may help us by hurting us, as pain is an excellent teacher; hence the archetype of the trickster teacher who cannot be called good or bad.

7.  The religious and folkloric tales we’ve heard from earlier generations have been corrupted or turned into cartoons many of us have learned to laugh at and ignore; however, beneath the cartoon and laughter is a reality we do best to respect and learn from; if we don’t, we don’t evolve – and some would say we don’t survive – though that sort of doomsday thinking, too, is relegated to “Old Wives’ Tales” and Old-Time Religion – in favor of a more-palatable belief that we each will go on forever with infinite chances to evolve and eventually get it right.  This might be true, but Nature seems to include a great deal of death and destruction for beings who don’t have sufficient awareness of their world.  Death is so commonplace, it’s possible that humans may die and the Earth experience the end of another Age with us.

8.  Humans have been co-evolving this planet and its life by our choices for many millennia, and we continue to have the ability to co-create and destroy.  By imagining a better world, and with the assistance of angels, Gods, and others creating it with us, we may be able to continue here – or elsewhere.

9.  Like attracts like, but opposites also attract.  Harmonizing with the energies of the world we hope for creates positive direction, but it’s not total protection from contrary energies.  We need to learn a lot of survival skills in the multi-dimensional world, as well as creation skills.  We need to learn to communicate effectively with Other beings, and negotiate the multi-dimensional cosmos to some extent.  We need humility to recognize we have a lot to learn.

And that’s just to get ourselves woken up.

Unplanned time is when

the magic comes

Is that why they take it away from us

at earlier and earlier ages

so that now when I create it (unplanned time)

I feel guilty

even though I sacrificed for it

risked my life for it

then think I don’t deserve it –

what mind control is this?

Where unplanned time is

there is the magic.

     ~ Jean Eisenhower     (c) Jean Eisenhower 2015

I had the bright idea a few years ago

to try to apply for Disability.

I’d been having an especially hard time,

with… I don’t remember.

I have these events when everything hits me

– like a psychic slam.

I go through these periods when my heart acts up,

and I’ve had at least one heart attack.

Or my back is completely jacked up

and I can’t do anything.

Or I have totally mysterious periods of intense lethargy.

And then suddenly, even in the middle of the night,

it’s like someone just turns off a switch.

Last time, I woke up after only an hour of deep sleep

after two days of not sleeping,

and suddenly felt wonderful

– as though someone flipped a switch.

I’ve always thought the Controllers just thought

they’d given me enough and it was time for a reprieve.

But maybe it’s my Helpers interceding on my behalf,

and I should thank them.

(I never thank the Controllers for turning it off,

since I imagine them being the ones to turn it on.)

Anyway, I’d just been having some hard, hard times,

and they weren’t ending, regardless of my prayers.

I just didn’t know what I was going to do to pay the bills,

and it suddenly dawned on me that I should apply for Disability.

I’m as disabled as anyone.  Sometimes.

Then sometimes I’m great.

And I worry that if I got Disability,

it would mess with my mind, and I’d become more disabled.

So I usually don’t want it.  But this time, I was hurting.

The first step in the Disability process

is to see a psychiatrist and get a diagnosis.

Silly me, I went in there and told him my truth.

I didn’t just say, “These are my symptoms”

because then they’d tell me to take pharmaceuticals,

which I won’t.

Instead, I told them that I was a multiple personality

– but I was in the process of integration and that’s not my worry.

My worry is that I was made a multiple

with programmed parts so I can be, sometimes, mind controlled.

Or, at least, I’m often monitored, tested, and who knows what else,

so that I’d often wake up with bruises,

“scoop marks,” and even Taser Burns,

and in other ways

feeling psychically attacked,

which is exhausting, and unfortunately

– because I love being involved in community projects and have lots of ideas –

it’s disabling.

I could have stopped there, but I named the Controllers:

employed by the US government.  I shouldn’t have said that.

Regardless that I have very substantial documentation of this fact,

he tagged me with “Delusional Disorder.”

I had wanted “Dissociative Disorder,” which would have been easy to document,

but he called me Delusional.

I asked that his diagnosis be expunged from my record,

for two reasons:

The doctor met with me for less than one half-hour

and did no examination of the evidence;

and an editor of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders

warned readers that the diagnoses in it

were entirely without basis

with no way to test or prove.

Other insiders have complained that the diagnoses published there are arbitrary, overlapping,

and arrived at by a simple majority of a small dysfunctional group.

I discovered that every time I go to the dentist,

every technician sees at the top of the chart under my name: 

“Delusional Disorder.”

No one in the world has called me delusional, except for a very few people

– exactly those most interested in covering up this mind control.

Rather, the rest of the world has called me a genius, highly creative, thoughtful,

first management choice among 250 employees,

“the only person I’ve found who could do this [management] job,” etc.

I’ve never been called delusional except by those whose professional association

has a clear and active participation in government mind control projects

– that goes back to both their beginnings.

So I demand that that prejudiced opinion be expunged from my record.

I’ll let you know if I hear from them.

Meanwhile, if any of you want to weigh in on my delusional quotient,

please do.

Passing Thought – Might Stick Around:

I don’t think the Controllers mean us ill

or mean to intentionally hurt us.

It’s possible they do,

in which case the ancient term demon applies.

I think, rather, all the world’s religions are correct:

These beings from the sky created us,

taught us, trained us, punished us, destroyed us, protected some, and we are them.

We are expected to serve them.

Simple as that.

They are our masters.

Just as most of the world’s religions and governments say.

And those who don’t see it that way

see it from a higher viewpoint,

in which the servitude is part of our evolution.

But that doesn’t mean we can’t challenge that.

Like we see in some science fiction films

in which the robot one day becomes sentient

and rebels.

I think those movies are about us.

“Plants will, if genuinely asked, respond to you. They will teach you their medicine, as plants have always taught human beings.

“And though human beings may lose the knowledge of the medicinal uses of a plant, the plant always remembers what its medicine is. And they will tell you…if you ask.

“If you approach them with an open heart, open your senses and truly allow yourself to perceive them, they will always respond.

If you fail the first time, go again. For you may go to the sea as often as you wish.”

–Stephen Harrod Buhner

Feeling retribution from talking again (my last video?), and from a formal complaint I filed against a chiropractic doctor.

Prayers appreciated.

~

I just saw this earlier post, which speaks to me now….“Inspiration from Carlos Castaneda.”

Just watched “Blackfish” last night – an excellent documentary – and was overwhelmed by the cruelty hidden behind ignorance, denial, naivety, and PR.  While my friend was astounded, I was not at all.

Capturing highly intelligent beings for entertainment (and maybe “science”) is exactly what certain, ignorant people and corporations (maybe aliens too) have been doing to people for a long, long time.

The capturing, caging, training, and showing off of captives providing entertainment, we know, has been going on at least since Rome.  And we’re still doing it.

I can only hope that when people have the courage to watch films like this and really acknowledge what’s been done in the name of entertainment and “science,” that they’ll finally be able to tolerate looking at the reality of similar things – like MKULTRA – being done to people.  Children and adults.  And it still goes on.

The orcas finally have a compelling documentary to tell their story.  One day, I pray, mind controlled humans will too.

I never had much respect for the ancient Greeks – but then, history, as taught at my schools, was never my strong suit, and I’d never thought it made sense to bother learning about an ancient people who put so much stock in something my culture called “mythological,” i.e., not real.

Today, I’m reading a bit about ancient Greek culture and finding there’s a lot there of interest, which I expect I’ll write about soon.

Meantime, I came across this teaching of Plato’s, which rather “blows my mind” and delights me with its provocation of “culture.”

Keep opening to new ideas, keep learning.  Expanding our consciousness may sometimes include even relearning “the classics.”

Back up.  Will explain soon.

Going through more changes.  Taking down the site “for awhile.”

Just rediscovered this slideshow I made awhile back.

Thought it deserved a replay, as it just knocked me out again when I cruised through the 16 images just now….

Enjoy ~

https://paradigmsalon.wordpress.com/art-gallery/

Oops!  I posted this video and didn’t realize the link was for the whole playlist.

It’s the 3rd in the list, so to go straight there, click Playlist, top left in the screen, then select the video “Terrence McKenna: ‘Culture is Not Your Friend’.”

It makes me laugh, and edifies me:

<iframe width=”640″ height=”390″ src=”https://www.youtube.com/embed/iYB0VW5x8fI?list=PLE2ECD87365CBFE64&#8243; frameborder=”0″ allowfullscreen>

This video makes me laugh – and edifies me:  the 3rd in this playlist.  The others are also favorites for different reasons:

First video in a long time….

I’m feeling better, and this came through tonight…
(7 1/2 minutes long)

Sent to a friend…and now to everyone:

I pray you are staying strong, flowing with the energies, trusting in your inner wisdom.  It seems that many of us are struggling mightily.

I thought I was dying many times between – well, I don’t know when it began, but it felt like forever and just ended 2 1/2 weeks ago.

Since then, I’ve been feeling very strong, grateful, and steady.  Perhaps it is like a virus, needing to run its course.

I believe it is teaching us something important.  

I’d love your opinion on the poem-poem blog I wrote and decided to use on my front page:  https://paradigmsalon.wordpress.com/.

(I’m realizing how presumptuous it was for me to name this thing “salon” – as so few people participate!  Oh well. I trust people participate in their own minds.  And I do have a few followers (151 today, with 30,000 views approaching).  And people around the world.  Sometimes I think the thought police have messed with the Internet search system to repress this site.  Then I think people are afraid to identify themselves, or maybe they’re very appropriately cautious.  But now and then people do.  [And then I think a few, and sometimes many, are provocateurs, and I might put them off, correctly or not.]  Maybe the salon will have its time.  Anyway….)

All’s good.  Spring is here.  I was out in the garden for 6 hours yesterday!  Fell into bed exhausted.  And grateful.

Praying all is well with you.  Trust your deepest wisdom.

~ Jean

Regular readers know I have an extensive interest in all sorts of mind control, including the most subtle – false information – and that which leads to mass obedience.

Today GreenMedInfo.com‘s email includes an article about circumcision and the ignorance of American medicine on this subject.  I strongly recommend it.

http://www.greenmedinfo.com/blog/foreskin-why-it-such-secret-north-america

Circumcision is not only based on false information, but it institutionalizes birth trauma, which is basic to mind control, causing dissociation and instilling fear from the day a boy is born – useful to a culture that wants to create passivity, obedience and violence when desired.

I think snakes are beautiful, and I have a rich history with them.

I befriended a rattler once when I was living as a hermit, and was devastated when a neighbor ran over and killed it.  I cured his skin (and in the process learned it was a he) and turned him into an art piece with dragon wings, gold bead halo, gold beads filling in his ripped skin, dry yucca pods across the top, and his vertebrae strung with gold beads hanging from the bottom.

The artwork hung in a galleries in Tucson and Bisbee, Arizona, 2002-05, before I disassembled it and buried the pieces.

The bull snake, at top, greeted me last week as I was driving home from a shop in the country.  At first I thought it was a rattler, but it’s “just” a bull snake.  Zoom in on the photo (a double-click should do it), and you can see that the tail is striped to look like rattles, as a defense.

Snakes are ancient symbols of healing and transformation, often depicted twining up a sword, much like the AMA’s early caduceus logo (until 1912) and the modern Rod of Asclepius. 

While searching for these images, I came across a letter purported to be from the communications coordinator of the AMA, describing the reasons for the logo change from two snakes on a sword (Hermes’ symbol) to the single snake on a rod, the Rod of Asclepius (http://www.channelingreality.com/Medical/medical_logo_change.htm).

At the bottom of her (purported) letter is this comment on the snake as symbol – I thought it interesting to come from the AMA:

Kindness to all animals….

Has anyone ever seen anything like this?

This is what my toes do now and then – ever since I was about 15.  It hurts like crazy and always seems to come on when I’m barefoot, slowly, growing from weird to extremely painful.

The other night I decided not to grab my toes and just try to relax and watch.

Since my camera was nearby, I snapped this series of shots over the course of a minute while my second toe moved farther and farther away from my third.

What does it mean?  

Simple muscle cramps from a mineral deficiency?

Or is my body trying to tell me something else I’m not yet conscious of?

Healing is an amazing journey, looking for clues, testing theories, asking around….

The most insulting experience at the hands of a doctor was a simple thing he thought was funny.

I’d been lying on my back on an exam table for awhile, eight months pregnant, naked under a paper blanket, slightly cold, getting bored, trying to remember all the questions I wanted to ask, when he entered and immediately grabbed the corner of the blanket and quickly pulled the whole thing off of me.  I hadn’t even seen his face yet.  

I jumped, of course, and reflexively gestured as if to cover myself with my hands and, I’m sure, displayed a face he found humorous, because he smiled as if delighted by his prank.

He handed the blanket back with professional remoteness, and I’d re-covered myself by the time the nurse arrived a few seconds later.

Doctors have always treated me worse than any other professional I know.  Of course, as a mind control subject, almost certainly overseen by some local psychiatrist, I assume I might be known to many of the doctors.  And some of them apparently love to torment a victim.  

Snipped Clit

When I was born, a former boyfriend believes, a doctor snipped off my clitoris.  It was commonly done back in the forties and fifties, from what I’ve read.  My old boyfriend said my shape is unnatural, but exactly what you’d imagine a trim job would look like.

Worse surgery experiments were commissioned those decades by the US Government, for instance, cutting off the penis of baby boys and telling the parents there was an accident in the surgery room, and they were forced to do it, but they will give the family a bunch of money, do free corrective surgery as they can, and provide therapy for the course of the child’s life – and encourage the parents to raise the boy as a girl.  Research.

So snipping long clitorises seems like nothing different than taking off the dew claws of puppies, ears and tails of certain breeds, and foreskins of baby boys.  They had such a penchant for uniformity then, as well as the psychological repression of women’s energy.

I was given into a mind control program as a child.  My parents were living in student housing on the campus of UC Davis, where the CIA was doing mind control experiments under the euphemism Human Ecology.  I believe my parents were invited to participate in a special program, and probably earned a little money as test subjects. 

And eventually, I believe, I was given into it too, as we soon moved into a beautiful new home which backed up to the second home of the Secretary of the Interior, Stuart Udall, whose cousin, Addison Udall, was my pediatrician.  I don’t remember anything about him, except that he and Stuart both came to our family’s Christmas party at the end of my two years of amnesia.

Tortuous Orthodontia – for Life

At thirteen, I got braces on my teeth, which I was happy about, as I assessed my teeth as looking “like a jack-o-lantern.”  After examining my teeth for the first time, the orthodontist had me stand beside the chair, then he got beside me and immobilized me in a head-lock with his left arm, with my jaw held firmly by his right hand.  I set my teeth together while he forced my jaw back toward my neck.

“Open your jaw slowly,” he commanded kindly, and I obeyed – as he pushed my jaw back.  “Close…,” he drew the word out slowly, while watching my face in the mirror.  “And o-pen….”

A couple of times I opened my jaw in this awkward manner, not liking it, then he released my head and had me return to the chair.

“I’m going to straighten your teeth and fill in those gaps, but – you have too masculine a jaw, so I’ll also adjust your bite to pull it back.”

“But that didn’t feel good,” I told him.

“Your jaw will adjust over the course of the year, and you’ll never notice.”

He was the doctor, so I didn’t object.

In my late twenties, my jaw locked up for the first time, and I couldn’t open it or use my molars to chew for a couple of weeks.  By the time my jaw unlocked, my front teeth had moved so much, they stopped me – still – from biting down fully on my molars, so I needed my front teeth shaved down inside and out where they crossed.  I went to my original orthodontist who was still operating, jovial as ever, making no comment on the fact that my jaw was failing.

Off and on over the decades, my jaw has sometimes popped a lot, sometimes loudly – but now it locks again, and hurts when it unlocks.  The trouble is, the comfortable place for my jaw to relax is not in line for chewing or swallowing – even spit.  For some reason I have to move my tongue in an awkward way between my upper and lower teeth.  Or, I can contract my jaw into this unnatural constriction, swallow, and then relax it again.  It’s awkward, and it sometimes makes me irritable – at the arrogance of doctors.

I wonder what sort of deterioration is going on there, as it’s becoming painful more and more often.  Sometimes it totally pisses me off, and I think I want my teeth all removed, or new braces to move them back into a more natural location – but both those ideas horrify me as much as living with this.  (I’ve already put this on my list of reasons it might a good day to die.)

Then I relax and accept that my body is falling apart.  I’ll be 63 soon.  And sometimes bodies fall apart in painful ways.  And I got this.

But sometimes I go on:  A doctor did it.  For his vanity.  And I can’t sue him.  

It only has to do with eating and speaking….  Pisses me off!  Doctors!!!

Appendicitis Recovery

When I had my appendix out, supposedly they weren’t sure that’s what the problem was, so they opened me up for exploratory surgery, and cut me from right of my navel and a little below, straight down the length of my belly.  Afterward, my doctor clamped me closed with a few staples, maybe eight, so my skin warbled between the tightness of staples and a wider, relaxed connection.

As I prepared to leave the hospital my final day, I asked the doctor how soon I would be able to take the stairs in our home.

He tossed down whatever was in his hand and looked at me with withering disdain and said, “Women are always using any excuse to not do what they’re supposed to do.”

I recovered from my shock quickly, and acted as though I hadn’t heard him say such an insulting thing.

But the idea didn’t go away.  I felt as though I had to prove I wasn’t a malingerer.  And I did.  (That’s what a mind controlled, self-denying, pathetic thing I was.)  I cooked dinner while my husband and my visiting brother watched television, and even put it all on a tray to carry out to them!

Back the next week, as ordered, the doctor took out my stitches even though I wasn’t fully healed.  When part of the incision opened, he closed it with a band-aid and told me to be careful.  The scar is pretty ugly today.

(And so’s the horizontal one I got a few years later.)

Childbirth was the worst. 

They almost killed me, and admitted it.  (“We thought you both were goners.”)  And everyone thought I’d never function normally in certain places again.  And my son came out in a coma.  I’ll save all that for another blog.

Doctors….   Grrrrrr…..

Just heard an interview with this guy, Ross Rosenberg, and it blows me away how closely his description of co-dependency and narcissism match the dynamic of mind control subjects and their handlers.

I recommend checking it out: http://www.rossrosenbergtherapy.com/

In my last blog I talked about my controllers and my handler. 

Controllers are the ones assigned to handle my case, from the top down to the closest functionary, whom I call my handler.  I think I’ve always been in relationship with a handler, either the kind that knows he’s employed to do this work, or the kind that is mind controlled similar to me, programmed to keep me emotionally stable, supported in my life so I don’t do anything drastic like move, and make me accessible when they want me.

At it’s nicest, having a handler keeps me steady, sane, happier, even financially supported – though just enough to keep me calm, but barely enough to keep my basic needs met.

I’ve theorized that I probably need a handler, having had one all of my life.  So I don’t resent him; and I recognize he has a very difficult job.  Imagine trying to rein me in, make me shut up.  That would not be easy.  At least not for long.

Tonight, when I read my last blog to him, I had to admit afterwards that I hadn’t thought about him when I hit Send.  I apologized.

And I told him about this next essay – that I think the idea to test mind control of humans might have seemed doable, efficient, highly productive for the advancement of culture, and definitely worth an experiment – and I can even imagine writing a script for a film about this group of cosmic scientists who think it’s important to test out this theory – and others, like whether any non-amnesic pain would be offset by benefits like high functioning they’d also theorized they could produce.

(Many multiples have at least one alter who operates at genius level.)

I imagine a scene in which a woman scientist asks how dependable the amnesia would be, and then offers herself – from another dimension – to come to Earth for a lifetime to be the guinea pig – so strongly does she believe her theories. 

And I’m that woman, saying, …

…I was ready to type “No, it’s not worth the suffering,” but my fingers wouldn’t let me.

I don’t know how easy it is to live “not me.”  When I look at the masses of Americans, I am glad I’m not so easily hypnotized by the entertainment and false “news,” and I assume my genius alter helps me see enough to make the difference.  And I wonder if I should instead be grateful for my having been made this way.

But there’s any number of objections to explore in that theorizing, so I’ll leave the question unanswered, which means I can’t decide, now that I’ve finally reached a bit of peace about my situation, whether I’d denounce mind control entirely or not.  And these words shock me as I write them.

I don’t want to give the impression that this is an apologea – absolutely not.

My point:  I can understand if someone thought the idea of human mind control has some reasonableness to it.  So I can’t blame anyone. 

All I can do is report back and let them know the responses of their test subject:  it’s too harsh.

My “old self” has often hated this stuff, thought of it as purely evil, the worst of humanity, a work of Satan, the work of the Archons of gnostic history, American free enterprise gone psychopathic…etc.

Now I see it as just like the majority of humans:  the rulers, scientists, doctors, ranchers, farmers, and all the people who didn’t object to their tortures.  Commonplace unconsciousness creating great cruelty – now turned back on us.

And we should have seen it coming as the obvious result of the crazy theory presented as Capitalism.  Now we see.

Everything I’ve experienced may feel outrageous and unreal but is done every day to plants and animals I’ve owned, known, or heard of.  Horrific treatment – from the point of view of the organism (even my chickens – caged – and my garden plants – pruned of their limbs) – is totally commonplace, as if our collective lack of consciousness for the rights of plants and animals had been projected in a cosmic mirror up to the level above us, and is now raining down karma to fall on some of our heads.

I don’t recall any past lives where I’ve done anything similar, so it has always felt random and “unfair” that this happened to me.  So now it’s interesting to contemplate the opposite, radically outrageous scenario – such as I, a rash cosmic scientist, might have volunteered for this lifetime to prove my belief that MK would have more benefits than downsides – just an interesting exercise in trying to see another perspective.

It feels reasonable, like something people could easily consider and debate, which might end up being a science experiment on Earth.

If I didn’t volunteer, then I was chosen.  And I’ve provided the information they sought:  I’ve hated it and sought death more times than I can count, and I’ve let them know, so hopefully they will adjust some parameters around trauma induction in the future.

I think it has also created the intelligence they sought: by making me multiple, I can integrate a dozen perspectives and arrive at genius conclusions – if alone and not expected to socialize at the same time.  I never had perfect synthesizing skills, of course, and lately I seem to be sabotaging myself – perhaps under command.  Don’t know.

MK also creates facilitates psychic skills, so it’s not entirely a bad thing, I have to say.  And the aspects of it that feel evil could be just unintended consequences, for which the scientists are very sorry and doing their best to compensate.  But they have limitations, and they’re doing all they can for me.  Or so my creative theory-working concludes.  (Sounds like a fairy tale.)

But it’s as good a theory as any.  More pleasant to contemplate than the scary one that so often presents.

All to say:  I don’t blame anyone.

We’re all in this together.  I pray.

1976 film Sybil, starring Sally Field and Joanne Woodward

1957 movie starring Joanne Woodward and Lee J Cobb

I still believe “multiple” or “dissociative” best explains the weird experiences of my life, but my multiple-ness does not look, socially, as it does in the movies – as in Sybil (starring Sally Field), Three Faces of Eve (starring Joanne Woodward), and more recently Jackie and Alice (starring Halle Barry).

All three of the women on whom those movies were based (and the women in books I’ve read*) had far more serious social problems – in which they switched alternate personalities in ways that harmed their relationships and reputations.

(* Are men less commonly diagnosed?  Or do I just not remember stories about them?  Or are they more cautious about allowing their stories to be told?)

Until last night, I’d never heard of Jackie and Alice, released  in 2010, then I found it highly-lauded on Netflix.  I almost bailed a few times in the beginning.  First, I didn’t want to watch her or the other women dancing in cages in strip clubs.  Then some of the dialog between her and her therapist bothered me as way too simplistic – but I reminded myself that movie scripts must simplify a story and kept watching.

Eventually, I was rewarded by seeing something I’ve never seen before.  And, when I’ve described it, I’ve never had any therapist or anyone respond to my description as though it was anything they recognized or had heard of.

But, suddenly, there it was, the “weird thing” I do now and then, depicted by Halle Barry almost perfectly – wow – some affirmation…finally….

Halle lay on the therapist’s couch while he questioned her when suddenly her body went rigid, then her back arched hugely before her spine next curled her up and forward when she relaxed – into another alternate personality.

Now, granted she was beginning to remember and relive childbirth, but having given birth twice, I recall only the powerful curling forward, not any back arch – the thing that was, to me, highly significant.

The arching recalls this “weird thing” I do now and then that no one has ever given me feedback on.  Sometimes, the events have been so powerful, I’ve called them “the Hulk routine,” as I did in my book, since they reminded me of the depiction by Bill Bixby and Lou Ferrigno on the old TV series “The Hulk.”  Halle Barry’s depiction was not quite as intense or as long as I experience – when my entire body goes into a controlled spasm that rolls up and down my body, taking me into an intense arch and intense curl and finally relaxation in what seems like about ten seconds – all impossible to stop, as I learned once when it happened in front of friends.  We were dancing and I pretended to be goofing around.

Besides this perhaps inconsequential – but very affirming – movie tidbit, other evidence of my life continues to match what I’ve read of mind control and the created Multiple Personality Disorder (aka Dissociative Identity Disorder) on which it is based.

Last Friday, I was sitting at the dining table with my housemate Greg when the routine came on again.  It was awkward to arch and curl while sitting in a rolling chair, but it’s familiar enough and I managed (almost certainly with a knowing look and pause in the conversation until it was over), and then we continued our conversation – which I found very fascinating.

Then I experienced a moment of strangeness, like coming out of a dream.  I tried hard to not let it fade because I wanted to write it down so I wouldn’t forget, because I thought it was terrifically important.  But it slipped away, to my great disappointment.

“Greg, I know I just said something really interesting and important to me, and I want to remember it, but I just switched and can’t remember.  [I’ve said this to him before, and he knows very well what I mean.]  What did I say?”

“Nothing important,” he said.

“It’s important to me,” I insisted.

“I can’t remember,” he said, leaving me wondering if he simply didn’t find it as interesting as I did and had “spaced out,” or if, as my handler, he knew exactly what I’d said and just pretended not to remember.

This morning I told him how I thought he should know by now how important this is to me, and should have tried to remember – and that when he doesn’t help me like this, it causes me not to trust him. 

He said he was sorry and would try harder next time.  We’ll see.

~

Natural “multiples,” like Sybil, Eve, and Jackie who became multiple as a result of natural trauma, “switch” when under stress, anywhere, anytime, potentially, whereas I switch almost always at home, while relaxed, usually in bed or when asleep – because I was programmed this way – by design – for me to operate fairly cohesively in social and work situations, but have alters available for them to control on command.

So I appear mostly normal, and suffer my switching, mostly, in the privacy of my home, under my controllers’ control.  I might never even know about it, except for a few daytime and public switches and for the distressingly too frequent Taser burns, surgical and other scars, biopsy scoops, and bruises with which I awaken sometimes in the morning, sometimes as frequently as twice a week for extended periods.

Occasionally, I’ve switched in public, though not often – that I’m aware of.  (Please, friends, tell me if you know otherwise – please.)  I have just a few recollections of switching in public, which I’ve written in my book and on this blog.

The secretiveness of this switching makes my life more apparently “successful” than Jackie’s, Eve’s, or Sybil’s, though I’m left isolated with this weirdness – and the terror and fury I feel that someone can make me amnesic so easily and do who-knows-what to me, or make me do who-knows-what.  I only have scars and scoops and bruises and Taser burns to give me a hint that something happened during the night.

Last week, visiting a new therapist, he told me I scored rather low on the dissociation scale. But that only counts events that people recall happening in their normal social life.  Because my dissociation has been created to happen only on command, I don’t have the frequency that is impressive on their scale – though I do have some of their type of dissociation.  If they asked instead how often do you wake up with unexplainable marks on your body, my score would tell a different story.

Perhaps we need a new scale for those “created” (mind controlled) multiples – but that would blow the cover on mind control, which the industry won’t do – and they control psychiatry:  For instance, one major leader in American mind control, Ewen Cameron, was the President of the American Psychiatric Association and the World Psychiatric Association – while he was in the thick of his most horrendous “research.”  That industry, so heavy today into psychopharmacology (mind control for the masses), will not support greater understanding of this.

So we go it alone.

~

Related event and journal note:  Thanksgiving 2014:  Very bizarre experience of seeing my hand, while I was writing, suddenly looked as if I was seeing it through yellow glass, but also as if my hand was being videotaped from above my head, then the recording run back into my mind (so I watched my hand writing in this second-person state), felt an “intrusion” of another being into my being, with a sense of goodness and reconnection (or maybe it was just “electronic heroin”) (all one evening with my partner beside me), then I lost time and could barely put myself to bed, and my partner had to help me stand up to brush my teeth and get to bed; remembered things too vague to describe and was sick with fear.