On The Cosmic Switchboard, James Bartley and I overview my life in 2 hours. (We plan another conversation soon.)
On RevolutionRadio/AquarianRadio, I have two interviews with Janet Lessin, another mind control subject, and her husband Dr. Sasha Lessin, a psychotherapist. As you’d expect, these interviews are more psychologically focused.
In the first, we spend two hours covering the strange events of my childhood and early adulthood: being ritually tortured, seeing inter-dimensional beings, experiencing strange events with Mormons, military, and individuals in high levels of government, being manipulated into a sorority and into sexually-themed roles in theater. (See a full discussion list below.)
In our second interview, we continue with two marriages to “handlers,” a “nervous breakdown”/spiritual crisis, decision to be a hermit, and introduction to the world of spirit and shamanism – which includes animal spirit encounters, gray aliens, reptilians, reptoids, and more. (See a full discussion list below.)
Our third interview will be next Saturday, November 8, at 5 pm PT, which you can listen to live on Aquarian Radio or YouTube/Aquarian Radio.
Hang in there, Everyone. While you’ve witnessed me in despair and other weak states over the years, I’m hanging in here, continually seeking meaning, continually seeking connection with extra-dimensional help, feeling stronger, and praying that my contributions to our understanding of this strange multidimensional world will also help you find understanding, Help, and eventually soul growth.
Lessin/AquarianRadio Part I:
0:00:00. Intro 0:02:55 Welcome, Dwight Eisenhower, suspected ancient secret society 0:05:30 Secret Societies: Masons, Military/CASU 33, Hollywood, Grandmother/probable early mind control subject 0:09:48 Birthday 7s and moons 0:12:50 UC Davis & Human Ecology Project 0:17:35 Multiple personality “alters” and triggering 0:21:40 Flashback to ritual with sexual torture 0:22:00 Left alone, never learned to play, Asperger’s Spectrum 0:23:40 Couriers, spies, martial arts, assassin, suicidal notions 0:31:30 Portals to other dimensions 0:35:00 2 years mind control programming intensive, age 6-8 0:38:20 Mormon advice to father 0:39:15 Flashback: “She’s getting old enough to remember” 0:39:50 MK still going on 0:40:20 Fear of Mormons, altered state experiences, ghosts, shadow being 0:42:15 Baton-twirling contest, terror on stage 0:43:00 Sexual performance nightmares 0:43:47 Ghosts v ETs 0:45:25 Sexual psy op, age 13 0:50:20 MK to develop sexual slaves for blackmail. “Crazy conspiracy theory” 0:55:10 Theater roles all sexual: stripper, prostitute, sexual spy 0:56:00 Break 1:01:15 Intro 1:02:14 Dr. Sasha Lessin 1:03:06 Theater, sorority life, beauty pageants, prostitute role 1:20:25 How got strong 1:20:50 Last sexual role: sexual spy; joining and deactivating sorority 1:23:00 Initiation ceremony 1:25:00 Who’s orchestrating this? 1:26:34 Frightening hitchhiking event, marriage 1:32:20 Became mother, depressed, abused, hippie church, minister’s wife, houseparent, kids stolen 1:42:00 Student of radio and television, met second husband/handler, MK meeting 1:44:08 Handler definition and how it works 1:45:00 Constantly dealing with weirdness throughout life 1:47:09 Next show: Marriage manipulations, friends in prison and car-bombed, son with cancer, nervous breakdown, went from award-winning journalist and successful consultant to mess, husband angry at MK cartoon 1:55:00 JeanEisenhower.com, ParadigmSalon.net, RattlesnakeFire.com, YouTube.com/ParadigmSalonVideo.
Lessin/AquarianRadio Part II:
00:00 Intro 02:43 Jean Eisenhower resumes life history: marriage to handler 04:33 targeted after 2nd divorce, son’s cancer 07:50 University of Arizona – Master of Fine Arts, Creative Writing Non-Fiction – healing begins 10:00 First Shamanic experience of Wolf 12:50 Discover my multiple-ness in Mind Control, dissociation in trauma (“into the wallpaper”) 15:15 “Put trauma idea into box and into closet” 16:55 Move to my hermitage 19:10 Struggle with rational vs mystical 21:00 Star shamanism – Daughter of Isis, rationality, archetype, history of ancient Egypt 28:30 UFO on highway outside Bisbee, AZ 34:10 first draft of Rattlesnake Fire, MFA thesis 35:15 Next relationship – healing; real estate success 37:30 Inner assassin comes to fore 41:50 Colorado Springs with 5 military bases; healing relationship 46:00 Back to hermitage, Cochise County, straw bale home 48:50 experience re Pleiades – Am I from there?? 52:50 stuck in dualism, childhood charges of crazy for childhood “imaginary friend”/angel 56:00 break 1:03:45 burn all journals re 2nd marriage, begin science journals Jan 1, 2000, all into database w 1200 data lines 1:06:45 Did they want me to be a hermit? (Maybe) I’m Asperger’s, so being in nature is more comfortable than being social 1:08:30 Alien encounters, lost community, “bad Jacketed,” FBI history 1:15:00 thyroid surgery scar on neck 1:16:54 tones from sky 1:17:47 UFOs swarming like fireflies (over White Sands?) with witnesses 1:19:40 Reptilian sex 1:21:30 military Reptilian in my teepee; connections to Ft. Huachuca; 2 friends’ stories confirm; question of Reptilian relationship 1:29:30 Theory of Reptilians vs Reptoids; Reptoid looking through my left eye (“Hulk routine”), then projected image in front of me; Reptoid child hovering in space 1:35:00 Why I’m not allowed to know – theory 1:36:40 My purpose – theory 1:38:00 Janet Lessin – shape-shifting story 1:43:50 Jumping ahead: Altered state w orange alien delivering message of humans not surviving; Sumerian, Genesis warning; thought MK 1:48:40 Highway stop, vaginal implant, laceration, professional photograpic proof 1:55:30: Closing. JeanEisenhower.com, RattlesnakeFire.com, ParadigmSalon.net.
Thanks for being there, Everyone ~
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Before you jump to the conclusion that I’m simply paranoid, having read my earlier post, please check out my super-succinct list here – of some of the stuff I’ve documented over these years – physical injuries, electronic weirdness, and the “Satanic” stuff that I generally don’t name, so I don’t know why I did this time.
Injuries I’ve suffered while amnesic or mysteriously:
– nighttime burn on back of neck (photographed)
– electronic bruising beam 2 1/4″ diameter (witnessed by nurse, photographed two weeks later)
– donut bruises (4, photographed)
– Taser burns (3, photographed)
– lacerations in vagina (3, one photographed)
– apparent surgery on thyroid (scar noted by nurse practitioner)
– back surgery, plates on vertebrae (x-rays not in my possession but seen by me)
– unknown holes appearing on spine (2 or more, photographed)
– bacterial and fungal diseases (Morgellon’s) intentionally inoculated into me (disease extensively photographed, event caused 75 minutes amnesia, disability, documented on Thanksgiving day 2014)
– biopsy scoop marks (photographed)
– on scapula (two, activating constantly, one shown to doctor, tunnel left when one was removed),
– near heart (music in stethoscope reported by terrified Naturopath),
– in g-spot, creating scar tissue or other pain, lasting 18 months; activated once years later; puncture photographed)
– alongside clitoral shaft (documented in journal),
– in ears (2 or more, photographed),
– in teeth, (7, photographed),
– up nostril (2, one photographed),
– left foot near ankle (scar visible, presumed used in first account below)
Electronic events I’ve experienced:
– 4” diameter round vibrating spot turned on my ankle, moving up lower leg about 1” per second, about 6”; after moving, turned on foot again, moving upward again few inches; after moving to bed, approximately 12” round vibrating spot turned on my head, making me unconscious. The next morning, my ears were ringing and always have since, though sometimes to lesser degree.
– many times felt disabled for days, then felt woken up with huge relief that a switch had been flipped – at 10 pm – waking me when exhausted by the shock of normalcy.
– hear a tone, wake on some hour, can’t sleep, sit up to read, hear a tone, notice the time on the hour, fall asleep sitting up.
– black and white movies play short clips in my head, which I ignore, resisting entrainment; once, movie played double speed, once two movies played on top of each other.
– on highway Volkswagen lights go out, I sit immobilized, unable to move even though I want to walk to the gas station, unable to even turn in my seat, estimated 30 minutes, wake out of trance one hour and fifteen minutes later with amnesia. Next day, blood clot blown out of nose, implant discovered in g-spot.
– Painfully loud sound in ears sent me running (under command?) for a relaxation recording, which had disappeared, leaving only a recording I’d been afraid to use, but I used it and experienced oddities and an hour and a half of missing time.
– Chords that wake me or put me to sleep
– Fugue states with feelings of intensity, then unable to remember what I experienced, once immobilized on my step with one foot stretched out for ten minutes (estimate); many fugue states while just sitting
– Sudden need to do something within a few minutes or seconds as if under command, my body responds even when my mind isn’t convinced, once almost falling out the door as I “had to” get out immediately as a helicopter flew low overhead; three times “needing” to get in bed with my pillow, spine, and covers all arranged by a particular time on the hour or half-hour, rushing to accomplish it
Satanic seeming stuff:
– Gloria’s incantation during supposedly “therapeutic” hypnosis, her lying about the time, my discovering her lie on my recording (she didn’t know I was making, which horrified her when I told her), “wrapping me up, every finger and toe,” and my lungs and heart, was disabled for weeks afterward (March 2017)
– Camp group with Masonic emblem, disability for two days after Full Moon (April 2017)
– Other days of disability after Full Moon or New Moon, with amnesia (in journal)
– Hippy Community with Satanic newcomers, extensive disability, painful to walk, weird trance state on Full Moon, dread, left, circled by others, howling crowd in distance later (June 2018)
– New Moon sabotage of my truck, involving computer, seven weeks before its one-year anniversary, with “Yoo hoo” signaling (August 2017)
– New Moon events visiting two people I didn’t want to see, but feeling compelled, leaving impulsively, horrible feelings with both, horrible damage to my rig, mysterious electronic door lock problem between two visits, wonder: truck sabotage by computer a signal for what’s to come?, woman calls “Yoo hoo” (recalling the other woman), realize it’s 7 weeks from the one-year anniversary (April 2020)
…And this is just what I remembered in a few minutes. I’ll expand this, I hope, using my database summarizing my journals.
I’ve chosen not to act emotionally about this, though I once did. Instead I just keep gathering data, and drawing conclusions when I must. And I keep writing.
Thanks for reading.
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“Yoo hoo! Yoo hoo!” shouldn’t be threatening, but check out this chart, and if you want, read the story below.
Three and a half years ago, seven weeks before (I believe) my truck was remote controlled to crash on the highway, it was the Solar Eclipse / New Moon, when a strange woman interrupted my meditations, hollering up the mountain to me, “Yoo hoo! Yoo hoo!”
I ignored her until I saw a man carry heavy equipment toward my truck and disappear behind a bush next to it where I couldn’t see him.
I yelled at him, “Get away from my truck!” at which point the woman began calling out that they were going to town and wanted to know if I needed anything. I repeated my demand, but it accomplished nothing. I thought of running down there, and could have easily, but oddly (except for a mind control subject), I felt immobilized and afraid to confront them more closely.
Six weeks later, my truck and trailer made an “impossible” fish-tail movement on flat highway, then made the same impossible movement again the next time I took the rig out one week later (week seven), and I made a mental note to take it to repair- even though everything had just been checked and maintenanced
Half an hour later, it made the same movement, this time down a hill. I’d experienced mild fish-tailing a couple times on steep hills and knew how to easily pull out of them, but this was not a serious hill and none of the conditions should have caused that.
Quickly, my truck and trailer were overwhelmed by extreme fish-tailing which flipped them, destroying them both, leaving me with a concussion, severe whiplash, homeless, with all my possessions in a mess. It was one year (minus one day) since I’d purchased my rig.
When I awoke in my truck, hanging sideways in the restraint, a trucker came to help, and later another trucker came. Oddly, they both used exactly the same language with me, and I assumed they’d both attended the same class on how to respond to highway accidents.
However, I also watched them both “interfere” with the crash scene, spraying fire retardant under my truck, which it didn’t need, while “checking” the wheels and axles. I now think was a cover for removing the remote device that flipped my rig. They’d also parked their trucks so that no one could drive by them and see my rig. (Later, I came to wonder if one of the truckers had also directed my crash by remote control.)
Recovery (physical, mental and financial) has been slow, and I don’t think about the event much, but today I am because of the “Yoo hoo” woman who visited yesterday.
I’d never realized I’d crashed just a day away from my rig’s one-year anniversary until last night. But I had been aware of the seven-week span between the “Yoo hoo” woman and strange man at my truck and the truck-and-trailer’s crashing.
And now, the “Yoo hoo” woman yesterday made me realize I just passed the seven-week mark before my one-year anniversary of purchasing my current rig. Should I be counting down the next seven weeks until their next harassment?
As I’ve taken care of the annual maintenance this spring, I couldn’t help but wonder now and then whether my Targeters were planning on taking my home away from me again, now that I’ve perfectly maintained it. But I brushed the idea aside – until the “Yoo hoo” woman visited.
To add to the freakishness of this whole thing, she mentioned her son living in Hawaii (I have a son who lives there), and she was wearing her hair exactly like mine at the moment – in a ponytail with an extra band at the bottom! Makes me accept they have cameras to watch us TI’s in our rigs.
Sitting down with paper and pen, I charted out the details roiling in my brain and found all these New Moons and sevens and anniversaries are not random, but perfectly orderly. And so I created the chart above.
I hate to admit I believe I’ve been harassed by Satanists a fair amount all my life. I was born under a Full Moon, not just in the 24-hour period, but within 8 minutes of perfection (2/1000ths of a degree). I was also born on 7-7-52 – which adds up, of course, to 7-7-7, which I’m told Satanists love, along with the fact that my birth date was Monday (Moon day), in the middle of Moon Child, as well as the Full Moon.
My mother’s church that I attended as a child was supposedly respectable, but I believe many churches have Satanic infiltrators. And these last few years on the road, I’ve found myself occasionally traumatically disabled for extended periods of time, and I realize a day or two later it had begun on the Full or New Moon when I’d met unpleasant strangers – with Satanic iconography I’d ignored!
Since I’ve been a nomad, the weirdness has had lots of variety, as I assume my peripatetic wanderings cause the Targeters to have to act on the fly and use whatever secret network is available on short notice, and so I experience a little less harassment, of a varied sort, but including “games” by Satanists.
My new rig’s anniversary will be June 7 this year. Seven weeks from the events of frozen truck door locks to the “Yoo hoo” woman (April 21-25) will be June 2-6, and the Full Moon will be June 5th. So I’ll be on guard from June 2-7.
I’m posting this in hopes it’ll blow Their cover, expose their Satanic games-playing and save my life (and rig).
If anything should happen to me six or seven weeks from now, especially if it involves my truck and camper, I hope everyone will recognize a crime has been committed.
You can bet I will be parked and go NOWHERE that week. And I’ll be praying for protection, and welcome you to pray along with me and for me. (Put it in your calendars!?) Thanks.
I believe these are spiritual warfare lessons I’ve been failing, and I pray to learn my lesson now and keep myself safe.
Crazy times we live in…. Reminds me:
“And demons will be let loose on the Earth in those days.”
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Research has led me to one site that links Morgellon’s to, not only strange, colorful fibers, but also a fungus-like growth called “biofilm,” with plastic properties, which covers the skin. It is extremely strong, does not look like skin, and I cannot remove it.
One writer called it part of a “cyborgian” evolution the Controllers of the Planet are technologically enforcing on us, with some of their former subjects now being used as first test subjects for this. Crazy, huh?
I was trying to remove the film with dermabrasives, enzymes, baking soda, and vinegar; nothing works. It’s like I have plastic all over me.
Biofilm? – covers my face and seems to be beginning to “shine” all over me, reflecting light when photographing, as if my skin were plastic).
It doesn’t show to the naked eye, and seems to be a matrix for other things growing through it.
Fungus on the skin leads to cancer – according to another author – and some of cancer images I found online look like some of the thousands of weird things I’ve photographed on me, like these little red raspberries, which the site identified as a “fast-growing” cancer, and which I’ve photographed about six times on my scalp. Hmmmm. [A glitch in cyborg design to kill their product?]
I’ve spent lots of money on supplements and herbs and organized it all into a daily routine. I’ve always kept sugar to a tiny fraction of the standard American diet, but – it’s weird – I’ve been craving it. I recall I’d read long ago that microorganisms can actually convince our brains that we need something like sugar, and so I’ve been struggling with that – so yesterday I emptied most of the sugar out of the camper and gave it away.
I’m scrubbing (as much as I have energy for) and sunning (when the weather’s good and I’m feeling well), and praying (when I “can”), but I am not certain I’m getting better.
I can’t get help from the medical establishment because doctors don’t want to talk about this “controversial” disease. Why? Well, history says doctors have often been involved in top-secret experiments, and they certainly act like it now.
Each one who learns I have a digital microscope and can record my photos and watch my progress has seemed a little perturbed, as if now they know they can’t bullshit me in the usual way. No one yet, MD or ND, has acted normal, except for the one who honestly said, “This stuff scares me. I need to refer you out.” So.
Yesterday the News announced that hospitals across the nation are now short-staffed and their space overwhelmed, and so all other medical care will be compromised – and for example they mentioned people with chronic diseases – like cancer.
Is this whole thing designed to execute Kissinger’s prophetic statement about our world needing a 95% die-off?
So they invented something to mostly kill the old and infirm. Strategically, that would make sense and be a good start. Better than war. Plague.
I’m over sixty, so Kissinger would have me die. No doctor will give me a blood test to begin any internal treatment. So, I’m wondering if I’m supposed to go soon.
I’m in the pristine, pure desert though! Only have to spend a couple hours in town, one trip each week, to empty my tanks, shower, get water, buy groceries, maybe visit the library, then back to the desert to relax and watch the birds.
And scrub, prepare good food, take my medicines, rub stuff on me, enjoy camp mates from a distance, enjoy solitude, and wonder if I’m really supposed to try to heal this biofilm and fibers and spirochetes.
(So daunting! They’re elated to syphilis! – shades of the syphilis experiment they did for a decade on the Black men of Tuskeegee – the experiment for which the government was shamed into finally admitting and paying settlements. At it again, this time with activists.)
And keep on trying to heal myself as a mind control subject too? Sheesh.
Or (that was just one alter talking) heal myself through prayer? Ask Jesus to heal me? (I have been.)
Maybe this is when I’ll be pushed to such absolute lows that I’ll trigger some strength or knowing and transform myself into something new, spiritual, and healed – ?
Seems like a pretty big order for an old lady, which I’m really beginning to feel these days, grunting and huffing sometimes just to move around.
Feels like, if Kissinger wants 95% to die, I can’t think of much of a reason to say it shouldn’t be me. Ya know?
But I’ll definitely ask that friends and family keep me out of the hospitals! Away from doctors! But let my friends with healing talents come sit with me, help me deal with pain.
The deadly part of this disease is the spirochetes. (That’s why I’ve been so focused on getting a blood test.) They invade the brain, nervous system, and heart. I hope the heart is attacked first.
But if it’s my brain, we’ll have other issues, and I pray for everyone’s kindness, and again to be kept away from doctors or anyone who could be pretending to help but really be another targeter.
That’s why, for awhile, I was thinking the coronavirus might be a faster way to go. But I’m not chasing it – and I no longer believe it’s actually a virus causing the problem. And I don’t believe I’ll live or die according to what I do; I believe my controllers will decide.
Further, I am not philosophically persuaded that I understand everything in this multi-dimensional world well enough to make that sort of radical decision, to die or not. When my angels or family and friends over there make themselves known to me and call me over, then maybe.
Till then, I’ll sit in the beautiful desert or forest, greet the trees and flowers and birds each day, and move when the weather persuades me.
My YouTube channel has videos of my Morgellon’s at:
I’ve been documenting the weird protrusions from my skin for about a year now, and some of the items that people want to call hairs, just aren’t.
Some appear to be fungus, others appear to be bacteria. This one with knobby joints along its length has long fascinated me. Some of the tips have a fine, crystalline point; others seem brush-like. And they often have a swollen base, though this one doesn’t.
The diagram below can be found on a few Morgellon’s websites. I’ve recognized none of the organisms below – though the largest one has features I’ve noted all year long: the knobby stem and the “brush-like” tip.
The large body at the other end is probably what’s under the skin, causing the bulges at the base of each and the inflamed spots all over, as in the next photo of mine, not as highly magnified.
Under magnification, the “hairs”/stems are knobby and the tips are either brush-like or have fine, crystalline points.
I believe these are fungus, and I’ve begun an anti-fungal diet, which I’ll post about next.
Of course, fungus is only one part of this disease. (What’s the little orange blob on the left in the photo above? I have a whole collection of weird blob photos I’ll post soon.)
There are also the spirochetes to deal with (sorry about the high drama in this artwork) – which can enter the brain, nervous system, and heart – which I’m concerned has already happened, judging by my sometimes-foggy brain, trembling fingers, and ongoing ulcers breaking out – though my ulcers are tiny compared to this picture.
(People without microscopes can’t see what I see, so they let their symptoms go longer until it gets this bad. I’m so sorry! If you’re concerned, get yourself a digital microscope online!)
And finally, the weird fibers, which many people believe are nanotechnology – and I have enough experience to have personal evidence that I believe it may indeed be true. I’ll post about that later.
(Sure am wishing doctors in America weren’t in on the targeting so I could get a blood test instead of being given a delusional parasitosisdiagnosis, sadly.
Look at this pink fungal fruiting body! On my scalp.
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Last night I woke at 1 am and since I couldn’t sleep, I sat up and asked my Spirit Help what they might want me to hear, as They often wake me at night for things like that.
Morgellon’s was a spiritual battle, they said – like everything else. Yes, I’m supposed to keep my diet clean and sugar-minimized, and keep sleeping well, and getting sun, but I’m also supposed to be talking with the spiritual beings around me who can also deal with the fungal beings in my skin – on this realm and others.
On this realm, I was also encouraged that simple products could help change the ecosystem of my skin even more than essential oils. Online this morning, I read that using vinegar to create an acid environment could diminish the fungal aspect of Morgellon’s. And so I’m beginning….
…That was a week or more ago and that’s as far as I got. I never put on vinegar after the first day! What’s wrong? Mind control? Sheesh.
Okay. I don’t need to be as gloomy as I was last post.
Going for the vinegar now.
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I was going to share some of the jokes I find myself telling on good days, about becoming part mushroom (which I read later Joni Mitchell has also said about her Morgellon’s) after I saw what appear to be “fruiting bodies” growing out of my chin after only 24 hours without scrubbing and ointments. And maybe I’d share about this balance of living with a whole host of parasites preparing me to see other realities.
Instead, I picked up my digital microscope to check my skin which I’m too tired to scrub.
First I went looking for the two holes I found yesterday in my upper left arm with a handheld 10x lens but hadn’t taken the time to look at with the better, save-able digital microscope until today. They’d looked like very fine hypodermic holes, and finding them on the day of a Full Moon when I felt tired is not typically a surprise; maybe that’s why I just couldn’t pick up the microscope that day – subconsciously too depressed from something done to me in the night. Today, they seem to have neatly closed and I can’t find them. Fine.
Nearby, I found a larger, but still tiny red spot that bled when I ran my fingernail over it, but showed no blood under the microscope. I don’t have any idea what this is. But there is a “cup fungus” (I found online) that lives in skin and produces blood-red, oddly shaped cups – similar to what I find all over me.
Next I looked at my chin and found this fruiting body reaching out, catching the LED light in its translucent outer layer, with other, “common” anomalies which might be part of the natural human skin ecosystem, but I don’t know, as doctors seem loathe to discuss it.
On my left cheek, I found more “common” (to me now) weirdness, with another fungal fruiting body (I assume, and am open to correction) with its dark tip alongside this strange item which I think is a typical tangle of Morgellon’s fibers. I’ve had lots of single filaments, but not that many wads of them.
focus on the fungal fruiting body with dark tip
focus on the suspected small tangle of fibers
I want to scrub my face, my ears, my back, my chest, my arms, my hands, my fingers, my legs, my toes, but it all takes so much energy. Two weeks ago, I paid for my last shower and decided to take all future ones in my camper, not because of the money ($6-20), though that helps, but because I felt under pressure to get it all done within a reasonable period of time, but I lost energy and always did a varying quality job. By bathing in my rig, even though I’ll use more water and propane and have to go into town more often, I can bathe a little of me at a time. I might do my face and genitals in the morning (though I didn’t today, kept putting it off), then neck and arms mid-morning, then torso after lunch, then legs in afternoon, and face and genitals again at night (always scrubbing hands and nails before and after washing each section of me). Just thinking about all that makes me exhausted.
These days I find myself holding my breath worse than ever, wondering why some part of me is starving my heart and brain and everything else. Well, I don’t actually wonder, I know. A few parts of me don’t think it’s worth being around anymore, and I understand. But I think I/we am/are supposed to be here. But that part of me that wants to breath can’t seem to overcome the others who don’t – sometimes. Like today.
I have vegetables to cook, cilantro to wash and prepare, things to organize, receipts to put in my bookkeeping, and I just don’t feel able to focus on those tasks. I did get the dishes done today, left from yesterday. I cooked a healthy, no-sugar-of-any-sort breakfast (then followed it with a chocolate truffle!), and emptied part of my gray water tank, only because I was forced to. It’s raining so I can’t walk, which is fine, as I’d only feel guilty or sad on a day like today because I have no energy.
Sometimes I think my spirit helpers helped me get the infection, to help me leave this life as I’ve sometimes said I wanted to – but I really believe it’s the mind controllers who gave it to me. Here’s my theory on that:
I started life as a mind control subject and still was when I “ran away from home” at age 19, but suddenly they had to treat me in a manner for which they hadn’t planned; they had to respond to activities I chose that they hadn’t chosen for me, so they had to adapt their programs. Twice they got me married to other mind control subjects who were able to exert impressive control, but I left each after about 9 years and have been single for the last 27 years.
After my separation in 1993, I – didn’t know it but recognized it later – was put on the “Targeted Individuals” list. I was gang stalked and sabotaged in everything I tried to do, unless the Controllers determined it could be useful to them.
When I lived remotely as a hermit, my experiences felt like science fiction coming from the nearby Fort Huachuca, a (the?) major American intelligence center, also associated, conspiratorially, with aliens. Besides all that, someone destroyed my computer and socially sabotaged me so that I could not work.
In debt, with no clear future, I sold my hermitage and moved to a small town, and my experiences of aliens and UFOs ended; in their place, anomalies left traces suggesting high-tech medicine and electronic warfare testing. Each experiment felt new, none repeated (that I was aware of), all interesting, disconcerting, exhausting, and not as fearful as I philosophically thought it should be.
In one terrible event, I became conscious with a body memory of some disease organism being technologically implanted in my body. In the next two years, I would begin to wake up with a painful scalp I described as feeling “like someone pulled me around by my hair all night,” and another sensation I described as “like someone had pounded the soles of my feet.” The disease would be diagnosed only 5 years later, and I’d find ulcers and fibers growing out of my scalp and fibers growing out of the soles of my feet.
This last phase of my life since I fled my home to travel permanently may have been concurrent with my demotion from military test subject to simple victim for punishment. At least three times I’ve been led unknowingly to attend Satanist gatherings on the Full Moon and woken up disabled for a day or two. I’ve witnessed many endless common people working for Operation TIPS doing drive-by harassment and such, many business owners who mysteriously treat me abominably, and finally, a new variety of electronic harassment.
My value to the mind control organizations I assume has diminished, so that they don’t care now whether I’m killed or not. Someone did something to my truck two years ago, which I documented and thought about a lot, but didn’t have looked at, then my trailer mysteriously fishtailed twice on flat road and then on a hill flipped me over, totaling my truck and trailer home and giving me a whiplash and concussion. Did they intend exactly that? To terrify and hurt me badly, but not kill me? Or did they not care, maybe even took bets on the outcome? I don’t know.
I’m not as controllable (I assume/hope), and can imagine they’re angry at me for documenting their damages and might want to punish me for it. As authoritarian types always have.
I could try to be “good”; I did for so much of my life, when I believed the American dream. But I don’t anymore. I remember now the sexual abuse in my home, my church and strange places I was taken. I remember learning about money, and hating it, because it was exchanged when I was abused. When I learned about Capitalism, it made me extremely sad for the world, and I thought, “This just cannot work.” I’m a failed mind control test subject – at least failed to some degree.
But I’m not sure I have no value to them anymore. I do wake up at least once each month having slept 11 hours and feeling so exhausted I can’t do anything but feed myself, and I have a dreadful feeling my amnesia occured because I was with them or they were in my home the previous night. Was I actually doing something for them? I’ve had impressions of being used to do remote viewing in an altered state as late as 2014. I’ve wondered if I was used sexually. I’ve wondered if I was used to help groom little girls for this work, which breaks my heart the most. I’ve also “glitched” once, and an alter took over who knew how to assassinate and was thrilled to have the opportunity “after such a long time.” Who knows what I might have done all my life!?
Or are they just doing maintenance these days – checking my heart, testing my blood, seeing how their old subject is?
Or are they monitoring the fascinating disease they gave me in 2014?
Six years after that 2014 event when I believed someone intended to inoculate me with disease – and I “forgot” about it all this time – I’m categorizing types of fibers, photographing them, adapting my life, but feeling like I’m losing the battle. Maybe I’m not. I’ve had angels come heal me before. They could come again.
It feels great to write these things, to make a record. But I really should get up to bathe.
I’ll put water on the stove (far more efficient than lighting the 6-gallon water heater), close the camper door (it’s been nice to have it open all morning), turn on the space heater, close the blinds, lay towels on the floor, get out the body scrubs, put on a movie, and begin with my face.
It’s so much trouble, and if I have the energy to do it, there’s no energy left for anything else. Realistically speaking, not emotionally, it just seems like I’m going to die. And eugenically (!?) speaking, I think I should. As a wimp, I don’t want to suffer. As a person defending her sanity against doctors and her self-esteem with a family that doesn’t want to believe her, I don’t want to deteriorate as predicted by this diagnosis.
So I’ve joked I should go volunteer at a local hospital and hope to catch Covid19.
On the other hand, if I’m still useful to the Controllers, I’m not sure they’ll allow me to die. I have an implant in my heart and, for all I know, they’ll keep me alive to watch the disease develop (like they did with the Tuskeegee Black prisoners who were given a related spirochete, syphilis) and thereby torture me for my sins. But maybe not. I can hope.
If I live, I still have so many other unpleasantries of old age: missing teeth, malocclusion, failing eyesight, and forgetfulness (and we hope it’s not Alzheimer’s); but worst is not old age but the technology mind controllers put in me over the decades. I have documented implants in my heart, g-spot, alongside my clitoral shaft, on my left scapula, 6 in my teeth, 2 in my ears, and I believe there could be more. They can be used to move my whole body or vibrate a part, make me nauseous and anxious, immobilize me, shift my consciousness off and on, turn on other programmed alters, and more. Even if I could heal my Morgellon’s and get my teeth fixed, who would want to be subject to the rest of what I live with? No one.
But if my controllers seem to be trying to kill me, then I wonder whether they’re not using me in any significant way anymore. And that would be an excellent understanding, in a way – to be killed instead of mind controlled. Thank you. But I’m not sure of anything.
I don’t mind dying if they don’t string it out too long and painfully. Ironically, though, my daily scrubbing efforts might be helping me live longer, and that’s not really what I want. I should serve my own needs better, and help shorten this eventuality. Yeah, that’s the only thing that makes good philosophical sense. I should just let it take me over.
Unless I’m supposed to be here still for something.
Back and forth, back and forth.
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Morgellon’s Disease can be painfully isolating – but I’m used to isolation. I’m a mind control subject, and the controllers have always planned for us to be isolated and discredited – in case we’d ever remember what had been done to us.
Since I was a child, my mother has been telling my siblings not to believe me, and while I witnessed her behavior all my life, I’d been programmed to never object to it or anything else my parents might do.
They were being paid, I believe, to cooperate with the controllers with whom they’d contracted when I was a baby, living with them in student housing on the campus of UC Davis where the Human Ecology Project was launched in my first year, a cover for mind control experiments.
My mother created a lot of disharmony between me and my siblings. When they wouldn’t eat all their vegetables, she’d point to me – cruelly mind controlled to obey regardless of my desire – and say, “Why don’t you just eat your dinner like Jean Ann?” and they’d all scowl at me across the table.
Another phase I heard from her often was, “Oh, I’ve always said you had a vivid imagination, and you mixed up your dreams with memory.” Weirdly, she always said the exact same words, never varied, in a sing-song rhythm, so that one day it made the hair stand up on the back of my neck when I realized she seemed to be going into a trance when she repeated the sentence word-for-word, and in that moment I knew something was very, very weird.
I’d just drawn the floor plan of an apartment in which I had my youngest memory, including details about where the linoleum ended and the carpet began and the glazed tall narrow window by the front door – to which she’d exclaimed, “You couldn’t remember that! You were 14 months old when we left there!” Then her face had trembled at the illogic of her words, and she pushed herself up from the table, walked to the window, and said those same words once more.
The memory I’d described rather thoughtlessly (I’d started enthusiastically before realizing it didn’t put her in a very good light but then I had to continue, so I de-emphasized the difficult part) had been of me fussing for her attention, batting around her hips (I was that small), her frustrated response as she stopped her efforts over the stove, threw the spatula, and screamed, “I can’t take this anymore! I’m leaving!” and walked out the door.
My next youngest memory of my mother was of her “washing my mouth out with soap” for something I’d said. I have no idea what it was, but I suspect the thing that enraged her was talking about some sexual abuse in the night. I was so obedient to my mother that after she left me in the bathroom, I followed her, prodding my tongue over chunks of soap stuck to my teeth and my mouth filling with saliva, to get permission to move the step stool so I could spit it all out.
Later, when my baby sister was born, I recall being told to keep my two younger siblings from getting into trouble when my mother took the baby in to nap with her. I was only five and felt burdened to keep two little ones from getting into things they shouldn’t. Of course, they didn’t want to listen to me, and things didn’t always go well. But I still have no memories of my mother’s face or her looking at me.
Today, when I describe anything weird to my siblings, they all ignore me in a similar way; they respond to everything “normal” and are absolutely silent about everything else, even the most extreme.
Once, after I’d woken with a Taser burn on my arm, my face looking as bad as I’ve ever seen it, and my physical energy totally drained for days, I crafted a letter to my siblings and edited it for three days until I thought I had something that was as brief as possible, but still well-documented, limited to what I thought they could handle, with a conclusion simply asking for their advice in addressing this common weirdness in my life, of waking with weird injuries and total exhaustion.
Two of my three siblings responded with one sentence each. My brother would pray for me; my older younger sister said she didn’t have any money to lend (I never mentioned money); and my youngest younger sister just didn’t respond.
Years earlier, I’d learned that all my family had met together without me for a special long weekend at the family cabin, and I was never told the nature of the meeting. I assume they all decided to do something like I’ve heard is done in mental health cases: only respond to what’s “real”; ignore what’s “not real.” I understand. Mom did her job well, and my siblings simply believe I’m somewhat crazy.
That’s not really a problem. I could always just live my life without communicating with my siblings. But one sibling will be executing the family estate one day, and my father’s will has some strange language about money NOT going to anyone who can’t care for him- or herself; and if my brother – who has, as a fundamentalist Christian, chosen to act very hostilely to me in the past, including telling me I’m not in touch with reality as he walked away, waving his hand as if to shoo away any words back from me) – actually believes I’m crazy, then I might get ZERO inheritance – unless I go live in an institution!
So I continue to treat my situation like a good scientist, and document, document, document. I have photos, testimonies, medical records, police records, and more. But my siblings want to hear of nothing; they want to continue to pretend I’m crazy, and no sexual abuse or mind control has had anything to do with our family.
Never mind that our family has connections to Masons, Mormons, the Military, and Hollywood. And one sister hired Madonna’s mother to be nanny to her baby daughter!
One other way I could interpret my siblings’ behavior is that they’re more knowledgeable than they let on, and they know our parents were involved and that I was given into mind control, but it’s best to pretend they don’t know, because it has always been in everyone’s best interests to protect our father (and mother, who passed away last year).
Or maybe it’s to protect themselves. Maybe they’re also in on it somehow. Maybe they became Satanists at some point, willfully or accidentally. Or maybe there’s some other reason.
I choose to believe they were simply encouraged from their earliest years by my mother and father to disbelieve me – because the controllers know that their experiments are not fully refined, and their subjects often “glitch” and realize the weirdness or pain of their lives and want to tell someone. So to head off that possibility, their subjects are called crazy or not dependable from their earliest days to everyone close to them.
The world tells me I have a good mind; I’ve scored high on college exams, Air Force exams (I never joined), and MENSA tests (also never joined). I’ve been offered two six-figure salaries; and in college received comments from three professors that my analyses were the most astute and creative that they’d read in their careers.
Last week, one of my sisters learned about the harsh treatment of migrants in our border jails, and I wrote back to say I wasn’t surprised because of how I’d been treated in jail as an activist. It involved being Tasered and losing 24 hours of memory. She ignored me.
The sad part is my family and exes seems to have also convinced my daughter to distrust me too. My son I’ve chosen not to tell much to, so he’s the only positive “real” connection, but I haven’t had the courage to actually be real, lest he turn away also.
So I live with NO acknowledgement of my reality or the pain or anxiety I suffer, except from random friends now and then who’re dealing with something similar.
I worry about my family. I’d like to protect my kids and granddaughter and some of my nieces and nephews, but the mind controllers have been plotting for decades to keep exactly this from happening.
So I live philosophically. Each of us has their own lessons to learn, and no one can help another learn them. We can support and encourage and love, but ultimately we can’t help.
We have our own spiritual Helpers though, and so I pray for my children and grandchildren, and even my siblings and father and mother on the other side, and my nieces and nephews – that their Helpers are doing what’s possible, and I don’t need to worry. It’s sad, though, never having had siblings to whom I could relate normally.
I’ve enjoyed that sense of family when I’ve connected with the other side. It’s not very often though, at least that I remember.
I don’t blame anyone. We’re all mind controlled to some degree, and some of us with the worst of it can see it better and sooner; those who can’t see it have every reason not to look: it’s scary. I don’t blame them for looking away.
I’m sure life would be delightful if I could pretend this stuff wasn’t real and “make it real,” and I tried that for ten years. But after a decade of denial, throwing all my life energy into other activities, they were always sabotaged and brought down by mysterious forces, either working in me or working through others.
So I accept that my eyes and ears and good mind are right; I’m mind controlled. And those around me have been mind controlled to ignore what I’d like to tell them.
I respect mind control. It’s next to impossible to combat. At least I can’t, yet. So I can’t blame others for turning their backs on me.
Hopefully, we’ll talk about it in the afterlife.
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This is the one of the 3 worst spots with a quantity of mystery fibers.
Many days lately I’ve felt too tired to bathe. I monitor my Morgellon’s Disease with a digital microscope and see fungal and spirochetal co-infections growing wildly all over my face or other places just one day after a good scrubbing.
I also find all sorts of anomalies that match various Internet photos of fungal infection or skin cancer, including many on my scalp and elsewhere that look like little red raspberries called “most fast growing.”
Many days, I can only wash my face and genitals but just don’t have energy to wash any more. In the last few days, I’ve found new patches of fungal-looking growths all over my ears and the back of my neck where I’ve not seen them before – and I despair that I don’t have the energy to address them. To lift my arms for that long, and rub abrasive back and forth just sounds like too much energy to expend all over my ears and neck and every crevice and angle and above and below of every limb and my torso – just way too much.
And for what? So I can live a healthier life to be mind controlled against my will on a regular basis? No thanks. But still the irrational urge to live is still in me.
Spirochete related to syphilis. It’s striped, partially transparent, with knobs and bends, and it moves, but medical professionals glance quickly and say it’s just a hair.
The spirochetes are my main concern, as they can enter the nervous system, heart and brain. In the last month, I’ve noticed my hands trembling and fingers flicking my phone or my face without my intention.
My energy is so low I wonder about my heart, since I’ve already had “at least one” (according to a doctor) heart attack, and keep finding myself holding my breath, feeling weak and even like crying at the thought of a doctor-recommended treadmill “stress test,” which I don’t think I can do. And there’s a strange feeling under my skull, and I often feel unable to focus my mind for tasks I really need to do, so I barely keep up.
Besides bathing, I deal with this complex disease in a few other ways: excellent diet with little sugar, as much sleep as I want, moderate exercise as I feel able each day, sunshine, internal supplements, topical ointments, and prayer. I keep up with these well enough, but I just don’t have the physical energy to scrub every part of my body every day.
I’ve wondered whether to hire someone to bathe me (as if I could afford it or barter enough to pay for what would probably be at least an hour’s effort every day), or give up (intending to die), or try to increase all my other healing attempts so that not scrubbing won’t be an issue. Or maybe I should be on oxygen, so I’d have the energy to bathe myself. Some say I should quit all my efforts and just pray.
I dunno. I think about dying often, and I usually just feel relieved that the battle could soon be over. I feel a little sad for myself, but mostly sad for our whole world, run as it is by people who’d mind control us for their purposes and kill us with gruesome diseases if we weren’t useful enough to them. But scriptures says that’s what the gods have always done.
Hanging in there anyway ~
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No one wants to believe these things aren’t just hairs, so I’ve taken a few photos to show you their structure.
This brown thing definitely moves when the microscope glides around, but sometimes it seems to move as if perceiving. They all have a particular bend with a tiny knob at that bend.
At the base is redness and apparently a second protrusion, cylindrical and stubby, alongside the main item.
It’s common to find two of these from the same place, and also common to find two different types of anomalous growths. This is too short to categorize.
Above the bend, the organism (I feel I can call it now) is striped in color and transparency.
Refocusing toward the tip, the striping continues.
The tip is very difficult to capture with the quality of microscope I have. Often it seems to be a bundle of fine long fibers that read something in the environment.
Hairs don’t look like this. Microorganisms in the fungal family might. Any experts out there?
It seems to be diminishing with oregano oil (a drop in a 1/2t Vitamin E oil). I think I should also get more sun, and consume less sugar.
After a lifetime of not eating much sugar at all, I’ve started to indulge even when I know it’s totally contrary to my healing. I’ve heard some people say our parasites can communicate their desire, such as for sugar, which we mistake for our own desire. So this bacterium and fungus I’m fighting might be the ones calling out for a little bit of sugar.
(Again, every doctor AND Naturopath I’ve consulted (seven in five months) acts like they’re either afraid or following orders to deny this and push me away, adding to the theory that they’re all in a conspiracy to hide and deny the results of secret government research; consequently, I haven’t yet found one to order me a blood test. The Tuskeegee syphilis patients in the 1940s died of a spirochete not too different from the one we’re calling Morgellon’s. Maybe in forty years everyone will get an acknowledgement and apology. But not now.)
So I’ve quit looking for a blood test; I just assume I have this spirochete, and I know it can hurt your heart and go into your nervous system and brain. And all that might have begun. And I might be dying.
On the other hand, I have been healed so many times by unseen forces, I’ve always assumed by my Helpers, but possibly by Mind Control technology in order to get me strong enough for some amnesic task I’m needed for, I really don’t know.
I do know I have implants all over in me, as I’ve felt them activated in various ways, and one doctor heard one. So it finally occurred to me, I’m probably going to live or die depending on whether the Controllers – or my Helpers – want me to.
But in case my life is in my hands, then I’m taking care of it pretty well, except for the few grams of sugar I try to stay under each day (10, but it used to be 5). I eat organic when it’s available, sleep well, take supplements and super-nutrients, minimize coffee and alcohol. And I scrub the fungi away every day – at least for the last two days, but I’ve been intending for a long time.
I read today Edgar Casey said the Unseen is far more powerful than the Seen. I need to be reminded. For some reason – mind control? – these things I know I act like I don’t know! So I need prayer help on this.
I’m trying to design my life for maximum healing (and saving money), camped in a beautiful place in the desert, where I was greeted by an owl, coyotes, and lots of birds, a phainopepla this late afternoon. I’ve bathed in teas made from the leaves of desert creosote. I’m hoping I can keep up the energy the next time I’m “attacked” – apparently hit by some vibe that disables me.
Keeping up the spirit for now.
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First used digital microscope in May 2019 to investigate deep sores on scalp followed by deep scabs. Discovered this wound first:
Later found more scalp ulcers, this one photographed in October, 2019:
Also found ulcers on my face:
And this on the bridge of my nose:
Also, an ulcer in my vagina, with strange fibers in the open wound:
And fibers everywhere on my body:
Even emerging from the soles of my feet:
And this cluster of fibers seems to be contained in lymph and blood, picked off the tip of one of my toes:
And some of the fibers seem similar to hairs, but with strange features like blunt “heads,” jointed structure, and sometimes apparent independent movements:
Along the way I also found things that seem like photos of cancer I’ve seen online – little red raspberry-appearing things:
And I’ve found evidence of what I believe is a spirochete infection, on both my genitals and face:
Since the Morgellon’s controversy contains the story of a secret biowarfare lab working with spirochetes that got out of control, and because another historic controversy involved another spirochete, syphilis, tested on Black men in the forties, it is concerning to find spirochetes on my body and doctors refusing to look or test.
And because of the history of our nation’s biowarfare experiments on unwitting subjects, and my previous evidence that I’ve been used for other experiments, it’s especially concerning to find artificial elements like this yellow, six-sided bead that seems to be planted tightly on my scalp:
One evening when I hadn’t scrubbed my face in 18 hours, I found this apparently complex ecosystem growing on my chin, which thankfully could be scrubbed away:
And this seems to be a fungal infection on my face, according to a medical care provider:
Sorry I haven’t been able to post much. I’ve been dealing with extreme fatigue (another symptom of Morgellon’s) and inability to focus on the few days I have Internet access. Another possible development is that the spirochetes can move into one’s heart, nervous system and brain. Last summer, I took a 6-mile hike, climbing at least a 1,000 feet elevation, and felt fine. Today, I can’t walk a mile without exhaustion.
I’ve also developed a tremor or palsy in my hands! I’ve flicked myself in the face while falling asleep and tapped more unwanted items on my cell phone and witnessed my left hand trembling so bad I have to hold the phone against something steady to be able to use it – all symptoms of spirochetes moving beyond just the skin.
So when I have a hard time thinking and feel a fullness under my scalp I wonder if they’re passing the blood-brain barrier and invading my brain.
Sure wish the 2 doctors and 3 Naturopaths I’ve consulted would have taken this seriously. One did, and she said she was scared of it and referred me to out-of-state doctors. I appreciate her honesty. The two doctors, I assume, are in the secret network, aligned against us targeted individuals. The other Naturopaths might have been threatened, but couldn’t be as honest as the one.
Now I’m away from home and my health insurance plan just doesn’t work for nomads. So I’ve been waiting for two months for one Naturopath to send me an order for blood work, but his office hasn’t sent it.
Some days I feel like I’m dying slowly, eaten alive by fungus and spirochetes, my skin looking horrible under the microscope, my heart feeling fainter by the day, my hands occasionally trembling, no energy to scrub myself as often as I should.
Other days, I just feel better, or if I really need to do things, I “dissociate” well enough to enjoy productive days and some lazy days and visiting with friends. Here’s a photo to prove it:
I appreciate you caring.
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Greta Thunberg is right: Autism is her superpower. Those who mock her should learn from her
Greta Thunberg is being mocked by the right for her autism. In fact, it’s the reason she may save the world
September 12, 2019 12:00PM (UTC)
You’ve probably heard of Greta Thunberg by now. In case you haven’t, she’s a 16-year-old girl from Sweden who has become world-famous in little more than a year. In August of 2018, Thunberg launched a solitary school strike outside the Swedish Parliament building in Stockholm, standing there all by herself with a sign calling for urgent action against the climate crisis. From the beginning, her argument was both simple and compelling: The adults who are destroying the planet are forcing her generation to face an existential threat to human life and the natural world. Something must be done, right now.
Journalists noticed her, and a few other students started coming too; then dozens, and then hundreds. By the spring of this year Thunberg’s solo actions had inspired a worldwide movement with its own hashtag: #ClimateStrike. Millions of teenagers and children all over the world have participated, urging governments and other institutions of power to do something about the crisis that endangers their future. Their reasoning ca be summed up by what 19-year-old named Aji Piper told the House Select Committee on the Climate Crisis last year:
While I am not a lawyer nor a climate scientist, and I only recently came of voting age, I know from studying climate science and living with the consequences of climate change today that my health, my community, and my future — and that of my generation — is at stake.
Thunberg’s gift lies in her ability to sum up the issues of the climate crisis succinctly, in a form anyone can understand. Take this excerpt from a recording she did for “Notes on a Conditional Form,” a new album by The 1975.
We are right now at the beginning of a climate and ecological crisis. And we need to call it what it is: an emergency. Today we use about 100 million barrels of oil every single day. There are no politics to change that. There are no rules to keep that oil in the ground, so we can no longer save the world by playing by the rules, because the rules have to be changed, everything needs to change, and it has to start today.
She concludes, “The main solution is so simple that even a small child can understand it. We have to stop our emissions of greenhouse gases.”
There is an eloquence to that, as well as a simplicity. Thunberg doesn’t go into wonkish detail like a scientist, or overblown (or evasive) rhetoric like a politician. She aims right for the soul of the matter. She has digested the inescapable conclusions of climate change science, and turned them into a few sentences that tell you everything you need to know: The world is heading toward an ecological catastrophe because of our greenhouse gas emissions. Period. Everything else is commentary.
With her sudden fame and influence, Thunberg has also become a target for right-wing abuse — which is probably a sign that climate deniers and their allies are scared of her. Like the Parkland student protesters before her, Thunberg has been mocked, derided and subjected to semi-conspiratorial whisper campaigns by many of her critics on the right.
During Thunberg’s recent trans-Atlantic voyage to the U.S. (she refuses to travel by air), one Brexiteer joked that she might have a yachting accident. A right-wing British MP dismissed her as the “Justin Bieber of ecology.” An Australian blogger named Andrew Bolt took a veiled swipe at her mental health by describing her as “deeply disturbed.”
That last insult was both important and emblematic. From her first moments in the spotlight, Thunberg has been open about the fact that she is on the autism spectrum. (She uses the familiar term “Asperger’s syndrome,” which is no longer used for diagnostic purposes in the U.S.) For fellow autists like me, this makes her both a source of inspiration and a role model. For conservatives wishing to knock her down a peg, needless to say, it’s a perceived weakness and an opening for exploitation and ridicule.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t surprised when I heard that Thunberg was being bullied for having autism. When you’re on the spectrum, being bullied comes with the territory. In high school I often sat alone at lunch and had few friends. Some of those I trusted at the time later admitted that they would also ridicule me behind my back.
Despite the growing awareness that exists for autism, it seems that Thunberg’s story wasn’t very different from mine. She has written on Twitter that before she became an activist, she had “no energy, no friends and I didn’t speak to anyone. I just sat alone at home, with an eating disorder.” Now that she has emerged as the face of a generation that wants to save the planet for all of us, she is being bullied by many on the right for being on the spectrum. Thankfully, times have changed, and she isn’t afraid to speak out.
Thunberg wrote this on Twitter:
When haters go after your looks and differences, it means they have nowhere left to go. And then you know you’re winning! I have Aspergers and that means I’m sometimes a bit different from the norm. And — given the right circumstances- being different is a superpower. #aspiepower. I’m not public about my diagnosis to ‘hide’ behind it, but because I know many ignorant people still see it as an ‘illness’, or something negative. And believe me, my diagnosis has limited me before.
Leading the climate strike movement, she added, has changed her life: “I have found a meaning, in a world that sometimes seems shallow and meaningless to so many people.”
Thunberg’s experience as an Aspie will resonate with many people on the spectrum. Of course autistic individuals are as different from each other as anyone else. But I perceive some common threads here.
1. She has a deep passion about a subject that many people find difficult to comprehend.
Millions of people are concerned about the climate crisis. But when you listen to Thunberg speak, you can tell that her interest is, in some qualitative sense, different. There is an intensity with which she speaks, an in-depth knowledge of the material, that transcends mere familiarity and enters the realm of passion. It is the kind of unbridled enthusiasm that causes many an Aspie to be told to shut up and act normal, because neurotypicals aren’t interested in hearing you “nerd out” about whatever topic has popped into your head. For me those subjects include history, politics and pop culture; for Thunberg, it’s clearly climate science.
Considering that people with Asperger’s are often known for their ability to absorb vast quantities of information on specialized subjects and use it constructively, if there is someone you want to consult as an expert on climate change, it’s an Aspie.
2. Her perceived weirdness is used to discredit her, often by people who won’t quite say they’re picking on her for being on the spectrum.
This one, I regret to say, never goes away. Even in my adulthood — even in environments as supposedly understanding as academia — I still encounter people who read my non-neurotypical way of socializing as inappropriate, who demand that I show more emotion or who pick apart everything I say. These people probably don’t think of themselves as bigots. But the fact that the comments sections under every article about Thunberg are littered with ridicule about her “weird” or “robotic” behavior, or other insults everyone with autism has heard, strongly suggests that they are.
If there is one message that neurotypical people need to hear, it’s that if you viscerally reject an Aspie because he or she is “weird,” your opinion on your motives is irrelevant. Either you are a bigot, or you’re behaving a hell of a lot like one.
3. Most of the criticism of Thunberg that is based on her autism comes from the right.
This isn’t simply because, in general, liberals and progressives have more empathy for marginalized groups. It is also because there is a growing tendency to use “autistic” as an insult on the online right, akin to “snowflake” or “cuck.” The underlying idea is that if you’re on the autism spectrum, you’re a freak, detached from the regular world, either prone to emotional outbursts or android-like in affect. (Bigotry is rarely consistent.)
I’ve been attacked for my autism in Reddit forums on everything from white nationalism to feminism. When I wrote a personal essay in 2017 saying that my autism helps inform my political views, the picture and headline became a meme in certain circles, as if the idea that autism was linked to liberal politics could somehow discredit liberal ideology as a whole.
The right’s obsessive focus on Thunberg’s autism also illustrates their fear. This is where the analogy with the Parkland student protesters is strongest: Conservatives can’t easily dispute the moral imperative driving these young people (who don’t want to die, whether from gunfire or a poisoned planet) or their factual evidence. So they instead resort to cheap shots. Like all bullies, they pick on you not because they’re convinced they’re right, but because they feel inadequate.
As autism expert Tony Attwood puts it, people on the spectrum are “renowned for being direct, speaking their mind and being honest and determined and having a strong sense of social justice.”
The part of our condition that involves disability is largely about socialization: We can have difficulty reading the subtext in interpersonal interactions, reading nonverbal communication and deciphering body language. On a deeper level, people on the spectrum struggle with the ethereal language of socialization that neurotypicals intuitively understand and take for granted.
This presents a catch-22 for members of the autistic community. If, on the one hand, we’re capable of learning the “social script” and thus appear “normal,” people question whether we are really on the spectrum at all. I recall a boss who once told me, “I’d never be able to tell you were autistic if you didn’t let me know that.”
At the same time, many find the performance of constantly behaving like a neurotypical person to be exhausting. When you become too tired to keep it up and begin to display autistic traits, the social penalties are even greater because people can’t understand why you went from being normal to being “weird.” This, of course, assumes that you can perform the social script in the first place, which many of us can’t.
As a result, we experience rejection and tend to self-isolate and self-loathe. Unless, of course, we’re lucky enough to be rewarded for the aspects of our condition that are superpowers.
In June I had a conversation with Temple Grandin, a professor of animal science at Colorado State University and a well-known spokesperson for autism. As we discussed the fact that we had been fortunate to find careers doing things we loved, she said that her advice for anyone on the spectrum was to figure out which of your gifts can be directed toward a vocation and then “make yourself really good at it.”
The gift of being autistic is that you tend to be really good at certain things, often with less effort than others have to put into them. (Which can cause more than a bit of jealousy). The downside is that because of your deficiencies in socialization, you don’t have much choice. You have to be really good at these things. If you’re not, society is likely to discard you for your difference and not reward you for what you have to offer.
We have to work harder, try harder, seize every opportunity and never stop being hungry. Because the moment we fail, the normies may decide they have no more use for us.
This is why it is so inspiring, indeed gratifying, for an Aspie to be taking the lead in saving the world. If Greta Thunberg succeeds in changing history, it will be not in spite of her autism but because of it. It is the fact that she has the passion and drive and work ethic to focus on a singular issue, and the intellect to understand it in all its complexity, and the maturity of a society that is far from where it should be in accepting autism but is miles ahead of where it was only a few decades ago. And, as it happens, the issue she’s so singularly focused on is one that has mobilized an entire generation that realizes, all too clearly, that their future is literally at stake.
Greta Thunberg is right: Her autism is her superpower. And because she is using it to fight for a righteous cause, she is precisely the hero we need right now.
Matthew Rozsa is a breaking news writer for Salon. He holds an MA in History from Rutgers University-Newark and is ABD in his PhD program in History at Lehigh University. His work has appeared in Mic, Quartz and MSNBC.
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It sure seemed like I had a parasite, probably a worm of some sort, in my sinus, and not only that, but it seemed to be laying eggs!
It’s possible, though, that I was mind controlled to believe this was the case. At first it seemed as though someone would have had to mind control me to enter an altered state and let them in my camper to squirt something sticky into the front of my right nostril, then leave and let me come to normal consciousness to find the sticky stuff there and freak out. Crazy.
Later I thought it might have been possible for someone to mind control me to believe I’d found the white sticky stuff in my nostril and twirl five Q-tips in there repeatedly to get it all out. More likely, with my history.
I thought I was videotaping my Q-tip work – part of my usual habit of keeping excellent documentation of everything – but discovered the camera wasn’t recording until I was in the final stages. I saved the Q-tips hoping a lab could tell us what sort of parasite it was. If I was mind controlled, though, then the Q-tips should have nothing unnatural on them.
Of course, discrediting mind control subjects who come partially conscious and begin to speak out, like I have, is one of the Controllers’ primary goals. So I’m inclined to believe, if anything finally proves all my concerns are “imagined,” then this was mind control for discrediting purposes.
If my concerns are not discredited, then I’ve experienced something very weird, have some medical concerns, have been treated very rudely by doctors, and need help.
For now, I believe I was deluded, not delusional – deluded by parties that have an interest in discrediting me, since I have worked for years to blow the whistle on them. Here’s how the latest unfolded for me:
It all began when I used a digital microscope (I highly recommend) to see the surface of my scalp where I believed a microwave shot might have hit me in the head (photos above); if it wasn’t a microwave shot, but something else, I wanted to see it.
I found a perfectly round one, as expected (left), and one that seems to have hit my scalp at an angle (right). The skin in both cases appears to have been punctured multiple times in a round or parabolic shape.
Fine hairs, a tiny fraction of the width of normal hair, and often curling, are found on my scalp and other parts of my body.
Eventually, I had to also acknowledge some things I’d seen but wanted to ignore, like strange fibers that were much finer than hair, and other hair-like things that seemed to act like self-directed periscopes or antennas.
Odd, blunt-headed hair-like structures all over my body often seemed to move as though perceiving.
Other organisms seemed to be swimming in pink and orange puddles of dissolved skin.
And my feet under the microscope seemed to have been punctured in the near-center of every print line at regular distances by some parasite that completely covered the soles of my feet.
These well-spaced holes cover the soles of my feet.
Since I regularly feel as though I’ve been raped in the night when I wake in the morning, I wasn’t surprised to find I have a genital infection as well.
Some of these made me – and some readers of an earlier post – think of Morgellons, and I wondered when I’d been inoculated with it.
This is the one of the 3 worst spots with a quantity of mystery fibers.
Even though only one place on my body had large numbers of fibers, there was at least one strange fiber at every location I set down the microscope, and I felt covered by organisms from scalp to toe, disgusted, and terrified when I considered my life history of doctors seem to be involved in the nighttime amnesic events and to be hostile to me in their daytime offices.
I’d been feeling as though something was wiggling around in my right sinus all day, and it might be related to the sensation I’d had the night before of something crawling up my windpipe into my throat near my left eustacian tube, and then across to the right side before I fell asleep. I used the otoscope to look down my nasal cavity a few times that day, and suddenly I saw for the first time what appeared to be a long white worm, or maybe a bunch of smaller ones, wrapped around the nasal structure – or maybe it was just mucous. I wasn’t sure, so I waited for clarity.
After turning my attention to something else, suddenly something new appeared: fluffy-looking snow-white foam filled the front opening of my right nostril!
It clearly wasn’t mucous. Maybe the worm or other parasite was real, and it’s just deposited this foam – laid eggs – thankfully where I can remove them easily. But where is the parasite, and where else might it lay eggs?
To my great surprise, removing the sticky foam wasn’t easy. When my Q-tip touched the white fluff, it surprised me with its stiffness and stickiness – it had an affinity for skin and did not let go! This was nothing that could be mistaken for mucous.
“my skin was beginning to bleed and the stuff was still in patches here and there”
I used 5 Q-tips, 10 ends, and had to quit after a few minutes because my skin was beginning to bleed and the stuff was still in patches here and there, impossible to scrape or pull off! (Days later it seems to have hardened into a tough thin layer of something like shellac.)
(I thought I was videotaping the foam removal but was surprised to find the software hadn’t clicked on. This still photo is from a video of my attempt to clean up the last bits.)
Looking online for organisms that match my organisms, I have been rather worried to not find them, as that leads me to consider the conspiracy theories about designer organisms being planted in targeted individuals. Maybe that’s an additional reason why no doctors want to treat me?
And of course, looking for information, I watched some fascinating videos about parasites being pulled from people’s ears and noses, with tools that travel in tiny spaces, videotaping while sucking parasites out – I wanted that!
While all the sinus sensations I’d had might be dismissed as imaginary or incorrect interpretation, the white sticky foam at the front of my nostril seemed like something I could not ignore.
It seemed incontrovertible evidence that something potentially dangerous was unfolding and I would be stupid to ignore it.
At the emergency room, the doctor refused to accept that the white foam wasn’t mucous, but for me, it was the clinching reason I was at the ER; something had laid eggs in my head, and was likely to lay more, and some of the foam was still right there inside my nostril, easily available to be collected and sent to some lab for identification.
In exasperation, the doctor offered me a parasiticide, which I took even though I “never” take pharmaceuticals. Dumbfounded to be not believed, I was comforted only that the parasiticide would kill it and make the issue moot. (I thought I’d tell the doctor later when I had proof of the parasite’s existence.) He sent me home with advice on how to treat a sinus condition.
On the Internet the next day, I read about the drug I’d taken, Ivermectin – that it doesn’t kill adult worms. Fortunately, I was able to see a Naturopath that day who referred me to an Ear Nose and Throat specialist and ordered blood tests of everything she thought pertinent. I gave my blood, shopped for a liver cleanse, and twice called the ENT who promised to return my calls within 2 hours, but never did, not even the next work day. When I finally got a through to the office, they told me my Medicaid insurance plan wouldn’t be accepted, and it would even be “illegal” for them to accept cash. (What???!)
For a second day, I’d felt movements in my right sinus, along with odd pressure points about once an hour, at different places each time. I imagined worm eggs being laid in various places, sometimes feeling they were puncturing into my inner ear or brain cavity. My entire head began to feel under pressure. I asked myself at every point, Am I imagining this?
In recent days I’ve videotaped a lot of oddities on and under my skin:
Blood-colored shapes under the skin
Three punctures inside my cheek, along with a crystalline hair!
And many, many more fibers, including many that appear crystalline.
The second evening I wondered if there was anything else to do. Might these be the last days of my life – if worms all hatched in my head one day soon?
Or was I imagining this? How could I imagine the sticky white fluff, when I’ve saved the Q-tips and have a video of me trying and failing to clean out the last of the impossibly sticky stuff from my nose? If it wasn’t parasite eggs, what was it, and how did it get there?
Was I mind controlled to go into a programmed altered state to let a mind control handler in the camper who squirted something up my nose (in the middle of the afternoon), then left me to come back to normal consciousness and find it? Sounds pretty crazy, but it is the way that lots of mind control is done.
What other explanations are there? Both worms in the head and mind control to make someone think they have worms in their head are both equally disturbing.
Two days feeling worm-like movements in my sinus, I suddenly felt something coming up from my windpipe again – that’s what had happened the night before I noticed the first sinus effects – so I grabbed my digital otoscope, plugged it in with shaking hands, and tried to capture video of whatever was coming up my throat. My hands shook terribly, and I was unable to calm them down. Whatever video I hoped to catch was hopelessly blurry. And then I noticed little squiggles climbing up my throat – not one big worm, but dozens of tiny things springing forward, their bodies in tiny S-shapes!
When I saw those tiny “worms” springing up my throat, it tipped me over the edge. Now we had evidence; the doctors would have to believe.
But I didn’t want to go back to the ER without checking with someone else, so I called the 24-hour medical advice line offered by my insurance company.
Dr. Lu eventually came on the line, but in the intervening minutes, I’d decided that I didn’t trust what I’d seen with my shaky hand-held otoscope, and decided the little “leaping worms” might have actually been artifacts of my shaky hand and dots of light, so I skipped that detail and reported only 1) the sensations of things traveling up my throat from my windpipe, 2) sensations of things moving in my sinuses, 3) the sudden appearance of fluffy white foam in my nostril, and 4) my video of what I believed was a worm wrapped around a structure in my sinus (even though I’d once thought it could possibly be mucous, I’d checked later and thought I’d found it entirely gone one hour and then returned – worm-like, not mucous-like). Dr. Lu wanted to see it, but unfortunately, my computer suddenly went offline, so she told me to go back to the emergency room and show the doctors my photos.
So I returned, 24 hours later, shaken but confident that a different doctor would see what I saw and not dismiss the clear compelling description I had of the white sticky substance that couldn’t be removed – that was still there for them to take a sample of – and the Q-tips for testing.
When the doctor arrived after hours of my waiting, he sat in a hunched posture with his head bowed, looked at me through harsh, squinting eyes, and began challenging everything I said. He ended with some comment about “mental illness,” and I knew I’d been fooled again into doing what mind control subjects should never do: give another doctor (potentially in the mind control network) ammunition against my future freedom as a mental healthy person. I concluded again to myself: I should never consult Western doctors, no matter how desperate I think the situation. When the doctor left to finish my paperwork, I left without waiting for him.
The next day, my sinuses were mostly still, but stuffy, and I wondered if the parasiticide had killed whatever it was. With the otoscope, I also noticed there seemed to be a lot of thin white stuff that coated my sinuses in a new way I’d never seen. (And I’d been looking inside my sinuses almost daily.) Was it fibers of web? I followed the hospital advice for a sinus condition and snorted salt water up my nose repeatedly, but it only cleared away what I’d recognized as mucous, while the new white stuff remained untouched.
For the first time I saw the structures of my nose entirely swollen together, the spaces I’d usually peer into were swollen closed. Now and then, I would sense something wiggle, and I’d wonder if it was just the normal movements of the sinus or if it was a parasite or worm.
I’d remember what I’d learned about life cycles of small organisms: sometimes major events like egg-laying happen within hours, sometimes days, sometimes years or decades. And I’d wonder what else I should do as a responsible person.
Gathering advice from online, I put peppermint oil on my cheeks and around my ears. I added garlic, onions, and ginger to everything I ate, and hoped that would make my body a poor host for whatever this is.
I didn’t know what else to do. I don’t know what this thing is. And I don’t know how it might be related to the other odd organisms I see proliferating in other places on my body.
If I’m delusional, someone explain the white sticky fluff, at least. And someone take my samples and get them to a lab.
And why were the doctors so adamant, even hostile, about not acknowledging my perceptions? The whole thing feels like a mind control psy op.
If my experience is of a real parasitic organism, what is it? Is it a new, secret designer organism? Will it kill me? Gruesomely? How fast?
Life is feeling normal again, though my sinuses are still quite stuffy.
I’ve healed the genital infection.
My blood work tells me I’m okay.
The Naturopath was considerate and helpful, and recommends I see a dermatologist to answer what are all the fibers on my body.
And I’ll take the Q-tips to a lab one day when I find one I trust who’ll test them.
I hope I won’t be surprised one day by parasites all hatching in my head. If they do, and I die, you will all know the backstory, and I’ll ask you to report it to the Flagstaff Medical Center Emergency Room staff.
If nothing ever happens, then I’ll suppose either
1) the parasiticide worked, or
2) there was never a parasite, and it was all my imagination,
a) my own, meaning I have developed a new problem, or
b) someone else’ mind control technology was used to discredit me.
In other words, I’ll continue to live with unknowns and ambiguity.
To do: Find a dermatologist.
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This last year has felt very productive. Not only did I sort a lot of possessions, but I also purchased a couple of USB otoscopes and began video documenting the weird technological anomalies in my ears, nose, and teeth, which I have to conclude are probably implants placed by rogue elements of our government, since I’ve felt implants operated in different parts of my body and even had one doctor hear one operated in my heart. (See ParadigmSalonVideo on YouTube.) Nevertheless, I’ve been trying to keep productive and in a good enough mood to keep my friends and family with me.
In the spring, I purchased a new camper and truck and moved in by summer and got back to productivity on a couple of important projects, while traveling in cooler country. (And helped a friend prepare to flee a fire.)
Also, I needed to get away from my trailer home in Pearce. I had purchased a meter and found off-the-charts electric energy fields in my home that I felt was making me sick and lethargic.
When I found a particularly heavy reading in a wall where there were supposedly no wires of any sort, I considered cutting open the wall to see what was there, but decided instead to just leave town! And life has felt better away from home.
On August 1, I got out my barely-used USB microscope and for the first time put it on my scalp to document what I thought was a microwave shot to the head.
Putting the microscope all over my body, I found a lot of anomalies, mostly weird fibers emerging from my skin, along with other oddities:
dots on soles of feet, plus odd fibers
star patterns of skin on torso, with odd fibers and blood under the skin
and curious fibers all over my body, many of which waved around on their own, like little heads looking this way and that.
fiber under the skin, similar to fibers emerged
Alarmed, I put the microscope on my nether parts and found this lesion, swimming with organisms. Most infuriating, many of these organisms seemed to have been just put there in a clump – not emerging, just laid on the skin, disconnected! With my documentation of people entering my home on a regular basis with myself either made unconscious or immobilized, I have to interpret this finding as evidence that someone has been innoculating me with these.
I’ve spent the last few days now, microscopically videotaping the skin all over my body, finding odd stuff everywhere, researching online, and even talked to one researcher whom I hope will get back to me sometime soon.
Meantime, I’m in a sort of suspended-belief shock.
It is rather weird to be still functioning, but see, microscopically, that your skin is deteriorating and little organisms are eating you. And some of those organisms have behaviors like “looking around.”
Because the medical authorities have denied this condition exists – despite thousands of people having it – makes me believe there’s probably something to the theories that this is a government secret project. Since I clearly have secret technology implanted in my ears, teeth, heart, scapula, genitals, and elsewhere (see past blogs and vlogs), and I’ve ignored their warnings to shut up about it, perhaps they’ve also implanted me with living organisms to make me miserable until I die???
Some say some of these “hairs” are actually antennas – explaining their behavior – connected electronically to the implants. Who knows? We can only guess when the government says, “Nothing… delusional.”
For five days now, I’ve been researching, documenting, and keeping almost totally to myself here in our forest camp. I haven’t told anyone about this except for a few people I’m camping with (very briefly) and two email friends.
I have a researcher calling me back, hopefully soon, and a Naturopath appointment five weeks away. Meantime, I have work to do: appointment in town, and a day’s worth of errands, tank dumps, and provisioning. I’ll act like life is normal.
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Above left is a photo inside my right ear. On the right is a photo of one of many “normal inner ear” images on the Internet that look very similar.
The differences I see are these:
First, it appears that the drum – the semi-clear membrane in front of everything including the silver piece – is gone in my ear – though recent photos show it has grown at least halfway back. I took this photo shortly after the highway incident in which I felt the microwave attack, felt the extreme pressure in my ears which I worked to dissipate by rapidly “popping my ears,” was mentally disabled for a short while (and barely continued driving on the highway), and then when I got home found blood in my ears, which may have resulted in my eardrums being burst.
The first arrow, upper left in my ear (left photo above), points to something like a square dark gray button, which I have a few photos of from months past, but that button is nowhere to be seen now, so I assume it was removed after I posted it.
The next two arrows point to the “cone of light” which seems to have two mechanical pieces attached to the outside of it. I have been unable to find anything like this in any photo online.
The last two arrows in the photo above point to something that appears similar to small squares of folded aluminum foil. These have also disappeared from my ears since posting.
Finally, above and below, the wire-like things. This is a recent photo, but the old one show the same thing: apparent wires. I’ve watched videos of the inner ear and heard one doctor state that there are NO hairs this deep in the ear, so I assume they’re artificial.
Thanks for being with me on this journey.
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Places where I KNOW there is an implant – because I’ve felt them activated or have seen and photographed them – and places where I SUSPECT an implant might be – described and documented below. (Numbers 5, 9, 11, 13, and 17 might have been left off the list, as they have little evidence. Numbers 2, 3, 4, 6, 7, and 16 indicate two or more implants.)
1. Top/back crown of head. Often painful and hot. Anomalous radio frequency readings.
2. Represents implants of unknown number in area often painful and hot.
3. Represents implants of unknown number in area often painful and hot.
4. Both ear canals – significant technology can be seen with otoscope, is videotaped and published, appears to attract skin to grow over it (see newest videos); ringing since Dec 2010; unusual experience with ears Oct 27, 2016, followed by sense of water in ear for three days. Appears to match online description of “Cochlear Implant” in which elements are mounted inside a rubber cup, as this appears to be.
5. Occiput. Unsure. Associated with altered state once.
6. Back of back-right-lower tooth appears to have four items stored in geometric order, three vertically, one left of the bottom one, plus a porcelain cap seen in the back, not flush with the tooth. (Also, tooth above, top right, appears very unhealthy at its base.)
7. Two here: Implant in side of tooth, lower left, second from back, with porcelain button cap, videotaped signs of transmitting: patch of white inside stain to right, patch of tiny bubbles in front of mysterious stain dots on porcelain cap, the porcelain cap always curious to hygienists. Also another porcelain cap between this tooth and the tooth behind, gold-colored in this photo with a layer of tooth cement on top of it. (And for the record, the tooth above also appears very unhealthy at its base.) (And I stopped one dentist from placing another implant in a tooth when I discovered the extra hole he’d drilled, and he prompted destroyed the evidence by destroying and removing my tooth.)
8. This implanted the day #10 was removed. It tickles now and then.
9. On spine. Theoretical. Think it might be used to pull my spine out of alignment.
10. In me for over a year. Bruise showed within two weeks, went away within two weeks after it was removed Oct 26, 2014 (resulting tunnel is shown in photo with bruise beside). Tickled a lot.
11. On spine. Theoretical. Think it might be used to pull my spine out of alignment.
12. In my heart or very nearby. My Naturopath heard it in 2006 and was rather disturbed. She appreciated my not pressing her about it, but she confirmed my account after I’d published my book in 2008.
13. Inside left forearm, beneath elbow. Has pressed on a nerve since my 20s or 30s. May be a harmless cyst, but it’s in a location that many people report implants, so it’s suspected.
14. February 8, 2011, I sensed a cut, up alongside my clitoral shaft about 1” or more up inside, where I assume an implant has been placed. I sensed the cut tissue as soon as I awoke and moved my leg. Some researchers report these implants are placed specifically for sexual torture, but I’ve never felt it activated while conscious.
15. Inside my g-spot, where I have a puncture wound (at arrow, above the obvious laceration – a different harassment) – indicating an implant that some researchers claim is placed in people explicitly to torture their subjects sexually. Arrived in November 2004 and was activated once (before the clitoral cut happened in 2011), lifting me off the bed when I was reading. (I would like this implant removed first.)
16. Implants in both my hands, unsure exactly where, but they cause radio interference when handling an EMF meter and also when interacting with my iPhone.
17. Smaller than pea-sized, left leg, 1” above the ankle, 1” inside from center shin. Arrived between 2001-2003, suddenly a hard lump under the skin, during time of many UFO experiences.
18. Found silver two-layer button in nose, videotaped it; tried unsuccessfully to remove it with a q-tip, disappeared two days later. Also, suspected an implant arrived November 2004, causing nosebleed.
Very strange to realize you’re a cyborg, all wired up, and you never signed up willing.
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What do you do when you wake up and realize you were born into a science fiction scenario, and everyone has conspired to lie about it and tell you you’re not too be taken seriously, despite your science journals and other “documentation,” and they want you to just shut up about this stuff?
You’d been fairly successful in living your life as if everything were normal, even though you knew it wasn’t. You lived in an uneasy tension between 2 worlds: the one that everyone else agreed on, that everything was fine, and it even made you feel good to pretend it; and the other reality that opens up regularly at nighttime, steals your energy, makes you amnesic, and leaves you with wounds that any doctor might leave, except for one that makes you think it had to have been aliens. That’s why you go along with the pretense that everything’s fine, to take a breather from the intensity of the nighttime.
I feel like Persephone, innocent, stolen from the Mother Earth Goddess, and released in seasons, to recover, only to be drug back into Hell again.
All this mythology, of gods and aliens, opened my eyes to realms beyond – which disappeared also when interacting in the world where these things don’t happen, where people don’t even want to know that they happen, even to their own sister or mother; I understand; it’s far too scary to contemplate if you’re not forced to.
What do you do when you wake up, and this is your reality, this science fiction story in which the heroine faces strange demons in strange lands, and has had implants placed all over her body and is made unconscious regularly and has her energy depleted sometimes for days?
Some would say this is a human rights crime, illegal human experimentation. Others would say it’s spiritual warfare. Others alien warfare. Since I think the rogue state may very well be controlled by “aliens,” and everything has a spiritual component, I assume it is probably all three. And I must fight it on all these levels.
I want to believe I was born into this life because I am strong enough to endure and grow from it, and hopefully will play a positive role in the resolution of this crime on Earth.
Thanks for reading and caring.
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I’ve had this thing since the late 1990s (received in Colorado Springs, incidentally). Occasionally, a dental hygienist will pick at it with a note of confusion in her voice, then quickly shut up and dismiss whatever she’d said. I always wondered why it caused confusion, but I never looked at it until yesterday – with my nifty (usb connected) otoscope!
First thing I noticed was that it seems to stand out, a bit away from the tooth, with gaps all around – the sort of thing I’d think would make a dentist want to replace it. But none has ever suggested it.
Next thing I notice is that the tissue at the base it looks very unhappy – as you can see in every photo.
In one photo, I caught an angle low enough to see what appear to be three tiny dots of stain above a generally-stained area.
When I expand the photo a bit, it then appears to be a stain edge around three white dots.
And then I notice that the saliva bubbles at the base of the tooth immediately in front of the three dots, are tiny as if they might be fractured by microwave transmissions from the area of those dots above.
Then notice the gum line farther right – it’s purple! That indicates a lack of blood flow. Why? Microwaves? I dunno.
Back to the stain, I wonder whether there might be three small transmitters at the three dots, sending out microwave energy which weakens the porcelain enough to allow stains to enter, but somehow immediately at the site of the transmitter, it blasts the porcelain clean – okay theory? Tell me yours. You can expand the photo to see the tiny bubbles – a least a dozen.
Further, to the right of the presumed implant, in every single photo and video, there is a white flare on the side of my tooth, in the middle of an area that is generally stained. It’s as if a misdirected stream of microwave energy is blowing out the side and killing all the bacteria trying to make plaque on my tooth. Any other reason for a spot of perfect white in the middle of a stain, right next to an anomaly that’s also making the tissue very unhappy in one place and purple in another?
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Sorry I’ve been unable (mind controlled?) to get on the Internet and do simple things like post. But I’m back and I’m going to try to be more consistent.
I’ve been doing better at my , ParadigmSalonVideo on YouTube, and have a lot of stunning information – like video inside my ears, showing that I’ve been illegally implanted with easily-seen, crazy technology that looks like it may be able to receive and transmit sound (am I a walking spy microphone everywhere I go?) and maybe even control me – I’ve certainly felt it done a few times, though I’ve never known exactly how.
At first I was thrilled to have such excellent evidence of the symptoms I’ve been describing for years. And I worried the controllers would remove them before I could document them well and learn who owns the frequencies at which they operate.
To my surprise, it seems they upgraded my implants, probably during the night of May 5-6, because they look different than in the first video (second above). They seem to have incorporated some implants under the skin, creating a structure that blocks half the canal and squeezes the existing elements together; or maybe they were replaced – as the rubber cup that contains it all seems to have changed from clear to yellowish.
It’s shocking to me that they would be so brazen as to upgrade their work even while I’m watching, video recording, and posting it online for all the world to see – IF it’s actually being seen and not hidden by the controllers. It seems to imply that either 1) my suspicion, which I hope is wrong, is actually true, or 2) there’s something so big coming down in the world that my story will never rise to anyone’s attention.
Anyone know a doctor or attorney who wants to weigh in on this?
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Those last ear canal implant photos really shook me, and made me want to put my whole crazy story into a nutshell. Here it is.
I seem to have been put on the TI list in 2002 when I was doing international media work for the historic, 6-week federal trial Judi Bari v the FBI. (The FBI was found GUILTY on ALL charges related to – but not including – the 1990 assassination attempt on an environmental activist colleague of mine, Judi Bari, and they feds paid a historic judgement.)
During the trial, I twice experienced waking with my entire body vibrating inside what felt like a “vibrational cocoon,” and my immediate thought was “men in a van with high tech equipment,” and after a second or two of alarm, I went unconscious.
In the 17 years since then, I’ve documented everything anomalous in daily journals, including Taser burns, scoop marks, “donut bruises,” injection bruises, other weird bruises, home break-ins, more vibrational experiences, implants (implanted and removed), tones and chords and even movies played in my head, fingers out of joint, broken toe, back mysteriously and seriously out of alignment, social sabotage, online sabotage, financial sabotage, highway stops, amnesia, and a few events of consciousness while my body was controlled to do things I wouldn’t voluntarily do, and more.
While I lived in the country, the weirdness included a LOT of alien and UFO events, as well as tones, amnesia, immobilization, animal mutilations, and highway stops. When, trying to escape the terror, I moved to a small town, the weirdness changed to include a lot of apparent medical events, such as scoop marks, dentists unnecessarily drilling my teeth and doing other procedures, tones, movies, vibrations, and chiropractic distress. When I fled that locale, the events employed drones, TIPS people, Satanists, and more electronics.
But all this is just one layer on top of a larger story. Just days after the Judy Bari v FBI trial ended, at home, I received an email from a friend who shares a lot of my symptoms, suggesting I check out a few websites, and when I did, I had the answer to a lifetime of weirdness I could never explain; I realized I’d been a mind control subject since childhood.
My father was in the Navy, and adamantly never wanted to talk about it. He was in CASU 33, which has an online discussion group dealing with the “mystery” of this unit. He was also a child actor in Hollywood. And his father was a high-degree Mason. My mother was a “jack Mormon” (fallen away, not a church-goer), and she occasionally took me to that church, where I had mind-blowing experiences for which I’m amnesic, but still remember the rage and distress. I’ve also had one flashback to my babyhood, too young to roll over, in which I was ritually sexually abused, left my body and looked down on the room – with men in a semi-circle, and my mother there, sunk to the floor in horror with her hand over her mouth – so I believe it was a Mormon ritual, not a medical one.
I believe I was chosen for mind control at birth because my birth date is 7-7-52 (7-7-7), on a Monday (Moon day), in the middle of Cancer (Moon Child, ruled by the Moon), and not just on the day of the Full Moon, but within 8 minutes of the precise moment of moon fullness – that’s 2/1,000ths of a degree of perfection – the stuff that Satanists love, and there are Satanists inside the Mormon Church, as well as the military and Masons and the CIA mind control program. I believe my parents were groomed to give me, their first born (or first live-born) child to the mind control program in exchange for some sort of benefit. I don’t think they had any connection to Satanists, except by this accident of cooperating with the CIA or Mormons.
I have two years of almost total amnesia from age 6-8, the same age that other Monarch mind control subjects have amnesia, or memories of torture. I remember the train trip to New Mexico with my mother at age 6, in which we left my father home with three children under 3 1/2 years, including my sister only 6 months old. Supposedly we went to visit my mother’s aunt in New Mexico, but that makes absolutely no sense. Later, I remember being delivered home by four men in military uniforms, and being silently “beside myself” with rage and betrayal. The next year, at age seven, I was left with my grandmother in California, while the rest of the family left and promised to come back to get me “later.” And that’s about all I recall of those two years, whereas I remember a great deal of the years before.
I was the most obedient child I’ve ever heard of. So it was ironic and a therapeutic change when I became a radical environmental activist in my 30s (1980s), engaged in civil disobedience. But I was on the most conservative edge of the movement. I was the one who typed letter-perfect media releases, and only once did anything more daring. For work, I was a community relations consultant to domestic violence organizations, health clinics, community radio, the United Way, and even Earth First! – which eventually took all my time, until Judi’s car bombing in 1990 scared the daylights out of everyone.
Until then, when I set a goal, I accomplished it. I was invited to the Leaders Circle of Tucson Network for Women. I was invited to Leadership Tucson, and spoke twice at their events. I sat on numerous boards. I successfully debated issues on radio and television. And ran a business and raised my two kids (who are wonderful and happy).
My life changed like this: In 1993, age 41 (typical age for the return of traumatic memories), I realized I’d been sexually abused as a child, The next year, I realized I was a multiple personality (common, of course, with childhood sexual abuse) – though I’m not the typical TV/movie extreme type. (All the alters created by my controllers only come out under their command, usually with no memory; but I do have other alters, I believe, spontaneously created by me, and also organized in such a way as to not interfere in my life like the extreme cases.) For the next 8 years, I assumed my not-too-bad multiple-ness was a simple by-product of sexual abuse; in 2002, I realized it had been intentionally created for the purposes of mind control. And that was terrifying. For a few years, I thought of suicide every day.
A unique sort of Multiple Personality
Because my alters are so well controlled, I’ve been fairly successful in life, and maybe the mind control even helped me develop my skills. Almost everything I’ve tried, I’ve been very successful at – except socializing. Because I lived with parents who didn’t talk to me much, I didn’t get to learn social skills til very late, and then after one year of kindergarten, I was put into MK for two years. My social education didn’t begin again until I was 8, and I’ve been working to catch up all my life; therefore, I score on the Asperger’s Scale. Like many female Aspies, though, I did learn to “act normal enough” in most social situations, and sometimes I’ve actually been quite successful, but it’s always required great effort.
What I lacked in social skills, I made up for in academics and employment. I usually score on intelligence tests in the genius range. In school, I won awards in art, acting, dancing, and theater design, and was one of the two top math students in my 3,000-student high school. In my professional life, I’ve won awards or recognitions in sales, fundraising, journalism – and some of these were regional and national recognitions. I’ve been offered six-figure salaries. I’ve taught English at university level and been executive director of a local Habitat for Humanity, overseeing both a store and a home building operation. I’ve designed and built houses and juried into art shows. In some ways, it seems the mind control has served me, or maybe I was already a genius and they just took advantage.
I was married twice, and almost a third time, and have been in other relationships with men that lasted for years, always to men I can see now were also MK subjects who participated in my control, knowingly or unknowingly, helping direct the course of my life. My most recent partner, after I kicked him out, I realized he’d been responsible for the injection bruises that I found on my thighs twice a week for 14 months – they ended when he moved out.
I’m on my own again now, and think I will always be. I’ve had all my lifetime’s financial gains stripped from me, through a series of legal improprieties that I was unable to fight successfully – though I tried, doggedly. I used to have a passive solar home on 20-acres of beautiful land with a creek. Then I had another passive solar home in a small town that I’d turned into a showcase with natural plaster interior sculpture and a magical garden. I was terrorized to flee from it all. Now I have a fifth-wheel in a trailer park and a little truck camper for traveling. And no savings, vulnerable, just like They like it.
Anyway, that’s the overview: TI and MK subject, which includes being multiple (an unfortunate fact that’s unfairly discrediting), with Satanists involved – which some people also find unbelievable and therefore discrediting.
I therefore try to be very careful with my accounts, distinguishing perceptions from assumptions, and documenting everything like a scientist. For awhile my journals were even pure science journals, kept according to scientific protocol.
A few nights ago I finally was able to take photos from deep inside my ears with my new USB-connected otoscope – and I found 4 or 5 implants attached just around the bend. (I recommend others try this too.)
Note the square “button,” top left, the square tab or two, below right, and the funnel-shaped thing in the middle. Anyone venture a guess what that is?
In past years, I’ve documented in various ways implants that I’ve felt activated, or otherwise felt the presence of – in my g-spot, up alongside my clitoral shaft, in my heart (a doctor was shocked to hear it), on my left scapula, and more. All of them were weird, or infuriating, but they were tiny and couldn’t be seen, and easier to push out of my consciousness. These ear canal implants are freakier and are affecting me in a deeper way it’s hard to ignore.
With almost two decades of journals compiled into a database, I’m now working to find patterns and themes and otherwise trying to make the best use of the information.
I’m so upset by what I’ve discovered, I can hardly type. I found another button-type implant in my left ear.
And I when pushed the otoscope in deeper, I found more than I can make sense of. At first, I thought the black button above and silver button below were one and the same, just a trick of light, but I see now that the black one is clearly round, and the silver button is clearly square, so that makes two. Then there’s something that looks like a tin-foil covered funnel shape with a base and tiny machinery built into the sides. And below that there’s what looks like a tiny square fold of aluminum. That makes four….
From another angle, the square aluminum actually seems to be two squares, one below the other. That makes five. There may be more, but I’m not sure how much might be light flaring off of simple ear hairs. (I never knew I had so much!)
Just before finding this, I’d found what seems to be a crystal embedded in the outer portion of my ear canal. I’ve touched it there with my fingernail for a least a year and thought it was a pimple; with the otoscope, I found this crystal and took multiple pictures of it from different angles. It looks like a natural crystal pushed into my skin.
Then, after I’d published this, the next night I found yet another implant, in the very bottom of my ear canal, with a hint of an aluminum square in the background. That makes six, in one ear canal! I’m beyond words.
For years, I’ve “known” I had implants in my ears and other places, but confirming it now – and finding the evidence so unexpectedly weird, with multiple iterations of the technology all in one ear – has really shocked me.
And I haven’t even had time to tell you about the second major microwave attack I felt two nights ago….
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I’m sorry it’s been so long since I’ve posted. As you might surmise, I’ve been dealing with some challenges.
The latest is my ears – which have never in my life given me problems, but they’re a mess now, and the doctor didn’t seem interested in offering me anything but Flonase (a common sinus pharmaceutical) to reduce swelling. Not a word about the apparent blood sitting in the bottom of my ear canals or the redness.
As you can see, the pale skin turns to pink and further back it appears to be maroon. There is a pool of shiny reddish black on the bottom and reaching out into the canal – so shiny there’s a clear reflection of the otoscope LED light in every photo of both ears!
And what’s that whitish solid-looking object at the back of the pool in the first photo? I’m tempted to say it’s an implant – round, flat against the wall, more than 1/2 submerged in blood – or maybe it’s an artifact, another light reflection. What do you think?
In all the photos, there is a reflection of the otoscope light somewhere on the apparent pool of blood! Does anyone think this could be anything other than a pool of blood?
I’m probably being silly, but: Apologies for exposing the wax in my ears! They’ve been too swollen for me to do my usual Q-tip cleaning (even though doctors always say don’t do that, I’ve been doing it all my life – with a particular, careful technique – and never had a problem).
Now, I can’t clean them, and it bugs me! I hate having dirty ears, but dirty, swollen, and bloody is pretty upsetting to me.
But that’s not the most important issue.
Researchers tell us that microwave energy – which is what ear implants receive and transmit – can cause cancer if exposed to it constantly. So being implanted with them will create a constant health threat – that we MK subjects can do nothing about.
I remember the health care professional who looked in my ears (after dismissing the photos I’d shown her) and then didn’t want to look for longer than a second or two and didn’t want to acknowledge there was anything strange. I imagine her seeing my ears, maybe even recognizing the implant, and knowing she’d come across a (another?) top secret subject of the government and knew there was a protocol to follow: She’d diagnose and prescribe as little as she could, and get rid of me. If I needed care, the controllers would take care of it on their own schedule. Maybe she even called a secret number.
I don’t know. That’s where my years of personal data collection, occasional online research, and reading of a half-dozen books leads me. I’m open to other interpretations. Please – I’d love your opinions.
The first time I thought I might have been given ear implants was in November 2010. I was working hard to finish the 3-minute video for my book, and this event felt like either retribution or a warning, but I still went forward and published it – and had thousands of views, though the numbers have been running backward over the years.
As a MK subject, I know many of us are created for different purposes, and those purposes can change depending on how well our programming is holding up. Since I was working concertedly to disrupt my programming, I believe they shifted me over to other sorts of research, including being a test subject for various sorts of electronic weaponry and MK technology; therefore, I’ve experience a very wide range of electronic effects on my body.
One of the first ones I recognized and documented was that November 2010 evening. I was sitting sideways on my love seat, reading, with my feet resting against the other end of the seat, when suddenly I felt a distinct circle, about 3 1/2” across, of vibration on my foot, not uncomfortable, just odd, which then began traveling up my ankle and lower leg. Quickly, I pulled my leg toward me and my foot out of the beam’s reach, but within seconds it had found my foot again, this time closer to my body, so I jumped off the seat and stood looking at my furniture and thinking. I was sure that if I sat in any other piece of furniture, the beam would find me, and I didn’t feel like being disrupted repeatedly, ridiculously, futilely. I thought of going to a motel for the night, but I didn’t want to spend the money, and I didn’t have any confidence it would ultimately stop this from happening, either there tonight, or here tomorrow.
It made the most sense to me to accept my fate, go to bed, and let it find me there. I lay down, thinking I’d feel it on my foot, and it would be dreadful anticipating its ultimate whatever-it-was-intending-to-do. To my surprise, there was suddenly a huge circular spot of vibration, about 12 inches across, completely encompassing my head, without needing to find me, as if they’d already mapped where I usually slept. My surprise turned quickly, within the second, to the recognition that I was going unconscious.
The next morning, I woke up with my ears ringing, and they’ve never quit.
About two years ago, after I’d lost my home (due to being terrorized out of there), I was living in a little travel trailer, standing in front of my sink, next to my bed, when I suddenly had the surprising realization that I was REALLY tired, and felt the distinct decision that I’d do something extremely rare for me – I’d take a nap – only I didn’t get to climb into bed before I simply fell on the bed and went unconscious.
Three hours later, my phone rang and woke me from such a stupor that I could barely make intelligible statements. Thank goodness it was a friend calling, one of the very few in my life who acknowledge what I’m living with, and she helped me come to terms with what had happened – and the frustration that I could barely contain the constant urge to shake my head because it felt like there was water in my left ear. The urge stayed for three days, during which time I imagined my controllers had planted an implant in my ear which was causing the sensation, or maybe they’d even punctured my ear drum to place one behind, where it would be cleverly hidden from doctor sight.
After that, a new type of hum has been fairly constant in my left ear, leading me to want to purchase the video otoscope (less than $20 online, works with any camera app) to see if I could capture any evidence of an implant.
There are times the humming is constant and intense, and I’ve tried ear plugs, which does create a white noise that softens the effect a bit. On the worst days, I’ve tried heavy-duty layers of foil over my head, but it seems the transmission can be bounced from different angles and eventually finds a way in, and sometimes it feels like the aluminum is reflecting and multiplying it, and I throw it off.
Sometimes prayer works.
Most of the time, I just try to ignore it, and sometimes I take my own advice and try to think of this as a spiritual challenge – and then I try to find other wavelengths to which to entrain my mind, trying to disconnect from the entrainment of that particular vibration, and sometimes I feel I’ve been successful.
There have been many other events with my ears, but those are the major ones since the controllers (as I imagine it) put me on the Electromagnetic Subject list.
Again, I welcome all insights. I certainly don’t have time to do a lot of research, so if you reference anything technological, please include some source material. Thanks!!
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When I heard that a number of American diplomats in Cuba (25 or more!) had been attacked with electronic warfare technology, I was slightly encouraged, that now maybe people would pay attention to those of us who’ve been suffering the same for years, and been only ignored.
A couple of weeks ago I was hit by something similar – while driving! – thankfully only for a few seconds, I assume. I posted a 4-minute video about it here: https://youtu.be/SQ-XtavMvnM.
In the Autumn of 2016, diplomatic personnel residing in Havana began to present with symptoms of dizziness, ear pain, and tinnitus that emerged after perception of high frequency noise and/or a pressure sensation. Understanding the acute symptoms of this disorder is important for better defining the disorder and developing optimal diagnostic, preventive, and treatment algorithms.
To define the presenting symptoms in a cohort of patients in the acute time period after perceiving a noise/pressure exposure in Havana.
Review of 25 symptomatic individuals who reported a localized sensation of noise/pressure and 10 asymptomatic individuals (roommates of those affected) who did not experience the sound/pressure.
Immediately after the exposure, the majority of individuals reported intense ear pain in one or both ears and experienced tinnitus. All of the individuals noticed unsteadiness and features of cognitive impairment. On presentation to our center, dizziness (92%) and cognitive complaints (56%) were the most common symptoms. Formal testing revealed that 100% of individuals had an otolithic abnormality and evidence of cognitive dysfunction.
Conclusion and Relevance:
This study focuses on the acute presentation of a phenomenon in which symptoms emerge after perception of a localized noise/pressure and in which the acute symptomology includes the universal nature of vestibular injuries and select cognitive deficits. The findings presented in this acute group of patients begin to provide a better picture of the initial injury pattern seen after this exposure and may allow for more accurate diagnosis of this disorder in future cases.
Thanks for reading, liking, sharing ~ all that. Peace.
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