Tag Archives: Morgellons

Pleiadian Starseed?

I’ve never used that phrase before, but I’m feeling more confident that it fits. (I welcome your responses.)

I just watched a few videos on Gaia TV, interviews with Sebastian Martin that inspired me to write my memories of my connections to the Pleiades, in context with other important aspects of my spiritual life on planet Earth. While my life experience has been quite different from what he describes, it seems they both fit into a coherent overall design.

In November 1999, I had a sudden and shocking remembrance of leaving my home in the Pleiades. I felt like a young adult, only very well educated, going on a mission with fellow Pleiadeans, watching the star cluster recede from a rear window, wondering what it would be like to be gone for a very long time. I experienced no Earthly emotions.

We joined a convention of other races in space concerned about things happening on Earth, also concerned because one faction thought the Earth should be destroyed to protect the larger cosmos, while we were in a group agreeing we couldn’t decide whether or how to intervene at all until we had more information.

A group of us volunteered to incarnate here to gather that info. And, while we’re here, if we thought Earth was worth saving, we’d try to introduce positive ideas into the social consciousness.

I did not know what I was getting into when I agreed to be born into the heart of mind control. The first time I was tortured, about one day old, I left my body, looked down briefly at the room, then shot up over the clouds to call out to my colleagues, whom I assumed had witnessed my experience because it was so intense and we were still very psychically connected. I assumed they would agree with me that we should all leave, because we had agreed to stay together or leave together, and this was far worse than any of us had expected Earth life would be.

But my colleagues said the families they were born into were worth staying for, and they assured me they believed that was true for most of the planet’s inhabitants.

I was momentarily stunned at their majority opinion, but our colleagues who did not incarnate were also psychically connected and agreed to provide me extra support, which I accepted, though with grave trepidation.

For some years, I left my body a lot to visit with colleagues on other dimensions, until one day they told me I needed to slow down the frequency. They somehow closed the portal I had been using, and I got used to simply waiting for them to open it again. I sometimes tried to will it to open, but never could.

I was always extremely happy when the portal appeared above me in bed, then I would suddenly plop back into bed, with no memories of what had occurred, but with deep gratitude, confidence and assurance that everything was going to be okay, and I knew I was cared for.

One day, when I was still fairly young, I landed back in bed with a new feeling of huge disappointment. They had told me I had to be patient for an even longer time now, but they would be watching and helping me always, but I wouldn’t be able to talk to them for a very long time. And it would even be best if I would forget about them in my Earthly personality. And eventually I did.

Through the rest of my childhood and into my 30s, I had no particular beliefs about the other realms. In my 30s, I met environmentalist pagans and was invited to their ceremonies in the forest, but I tip-toed away, not sure what I believed.

Years later, I found myself saying that if something we call Spirit existed, It would let me know. And soon I had a healing involving trees talking to me, encouraging me to hug one of them, and then an incredible frequency of energy pouring down through me that I described as feeling as though I’d had a radio inside me tuned to static all my life, and suddenly, with the cascade of energy, the static had been turned off. I would never be the same again.

When my son got cancer (later healed), and I realized I had to divorce my abusive second husband (whom I did not know then was my mind control handler), I had a nervous breakdown (highly recommended), and had my first realizations that I had been sexually abused as a child.

The next year I realized I was a “multiple personality,” and moved out to the desert to build a small strawbale home off grid. There, I began to have years of experiences others called shamanic perception.

All those previous years of wondering if something called Spirit existed, I had refused to read “spiritual” books. I did not want anyone else’s ideas to frame my experiences and possibly distort them. And I was flatly disinterested in the subject of aliens.

One weekend, I joined environmentalist friends camping in the desert, where one man insisted I look at the Pleiades through his binoculars. I was talking to someone else and didn’t want to look at little sparkly things in the sky. He insisted further, and with much irritation, I looked.

To my absolute astonishment I was shocked to feel powerful sensations of home and longing that made me want to cry. I couldn’t hold back and blurted out that I thought I was from there, then immediately slapped my hand over my mouth in embarrassment. I had been programmed by our culture to make fun of people who believed in things like this. I continued confused and silent about the experience for years.

As Y2K approached, I became concerned that I wanted to be a more careful documentarian about my strange experiences, so I decided to change my journaling style into something closer to a science journal.

Instead of bemoaning my distressing situation of being a victim of sexual abuse, divorced from abusive men, alone and confused, with weird things continuously happening that seemed too much for one person’s life, I decided to simply document precisely what I had experienced, separate from what I assumed it meant, and separate from my emotions. Sometimes I would write about unusual experiences with animals. And I would write about this new category of spiritual events, where the 3-D world would suddenly be shot through with the revelation of other dimensions and beings – and aliens and spaceships.

Today I have three large boxes of journals, which I’ve summarized into a database with over 1,100 lines describing events that do not fit in “normal life” as described by most people.

One day, I finally went to the library and brought home the maximum number of books allowed, all about aliens and the supernatural, and finally began to read what others have experienced.

Powerful experiences came upon me unbidden in the coming years, with spirit animals, natural animals, angels, Jesus, Isis, orbs, UFOs, angels, demons, “aliens,” and people I assume were government agents. It seemed too much to share with anyone.

It would be years before I recognized I probably had this ability to perceive and interact with other dimensions because I had become familiar with other realms by regularly leaving my body during childhood abuse.

One morning I woke with a surgical incision on my neck that seemed to have been done with technology beyond anything I thought humans had, and it reminded me of a scene in Star Wars when Luke Skywalker was beautifully healed in a machine. I took a photograph of the scar, unfortunately lost. Five years later a nurse practitioner noticed my faint scar, and asked when I’d had my thyroid surgery.

Eight years after realizing I was a multiple personality (high functioning, nothing dramatic), I would realize I was also a mind control subject.

It shook my world, and I wrestled every day with my life purpose, wondering whether it would be better to not be alive, so as not to be an asset to those government people abusing other people like me.

By happenstance, I reconnected with an environmentalist-pagan acquaintance, who came to live with me, and help me believe I had a purpose in staying alive.

When we were deciding whether or not he would come live with me, multiple signs delighted us, including us waking throughout the night in our camp and me repeatedly seeing the Pleiades over his head as we moved and the stars moved.

Over the years, I came to realize this man, as much as he had helped me and I had helped him, was continuously distracting me from my spiritual and meditative life, so I wondered whether he was yet another handler, and I asked him to leave, and he did.

He had also impacted my spending, I was in debt, and it suddenly seemed someone was actively sabotaging my efforts to find local work. Besides that, I was feeling like a sitting duck for alien and government harassment, so I sold my home and fled (as if I could escape them).

The alien beings I had experienced in that home had included small grays coming through my window;a tall one who immobilized me in my bed; ones I don’t remember seeing but who took me up in a beam and moved me through portals; others I also didn’t see but who took me and my partner up into a huge triangle ship, returning us amnesic for what had happened: and one Draco who immobilized me then made me unconscious with some tool put to the back of my head.

I had also been stopped on the highway, lost two hours of time, and had something implanted in my vagina. Once, with two guests visiting my partner and I, we witnessed a UFO shot down fairly nearby and later listened to the reconnaissance mission as it passed by on the highway and back. (My home was not too distant from Fort Huachuca, a major Air Force intelligence base. Later I would have two friends from different social circles each tell me their shocking experiences with Dracos at that base – both of them unbelievers until their experiences, like me.)

I had no context for understanding these experiences, and was afraid to tell anyone. As a child, after I had complained about my nighttime treatment, I had been continuously called a liar by my mother, so I was always careful to tell the precise truth and now was afraid to tell a truth that no one would believe.

However, when I read Whitley Strieber’s book Secret School, about being in some sort of training on another dimension and I kept finding myself going into altered states while reading, I decided to write him. After a year he wrote me back with an odd and emotional account about having intended to contact me immediately, but some sort of mind control seemed to be stopping him. Soon after, I was interviewed by him and Jim Marrs (but I asked them both not to air our interviews as I felt too embarrassed by my disclosures).

I had met and worked with a European shaman and esteemed consciousness researcher, Ralph Metzner, who encouraged me to write a book about my experiences, and offered to write the Foreword, so I did, and he did. (My book was well praised, but has been “shadow banned” on Amazon, and all the reviews of my book have disappeared. A video about my book went viral briefly, then the numbers began running backward, and it too seems to now be also shadow banned.

A local Native shaman I had never met, but seemed to have heard about me, visited me with his wife and offered himself as a teacher by way of a gift of a white eagle tail feather. But my mind control seemed to freeze me so that I could not say a word, and he and his wife eventually drove away. I was left with the conviction I still hold that I missed an opportunity of a lifetime.

After I sold my home and had money, I would attend consciousness conferences for years and be surprised to have Native people approach me and tell me things I had been wondering for years and needed to know. I eventually became aware that many Native tribes claim to have come from the Pleiades.

In one event a group of Native women seemed delighted to see some other-dimensional beings traveling with me over my head as I made my way down a wide, crowded hallway.

In my mundane life, I occasionally experienced a Native woman from another dimension drop into me (or emerge from me?) and simply experience my life on that land I had a short while, and I understood this was their former land for harvesting acorns each year, and they just wanted to experience it again.

At one consciousness conference, I seemed to have been also recognized by people involved in mind control. They never initiated contact, but when we passed in a hallway, they stared briefly, looked away nervously, and I could psychically hear their mental wrestling with how to act as if they didn’t know and hadn’t recognized me.

In September 2009, I had a vision of a translucent egg-shaped ship approaching Earth, just letting me know it was nearby and wanting me to know that. Soon, a number of other women around the world were sharing their psychic vision of a massive UFO that would come to Earth and everyone would see it for three whole days, and I wondered if we had shared the same vision, but I did not have the convictions they had, so I kept quiet, thinking this coincidence was probably not meaningful. Either I was only getting part of the message, or they were assuming too much, or it was purely a coincidence, as nothing like that happened. So I held this vision in a place of wonder ever since.

Soon, it seems someone wanted to punish me for my book and video, as I seemed to have been put on a list for a variety of punishments in the form of government experiments, especially in frequency weapons. I experienced buzzing, tones that woke me up, tones that put me to sleep, tones that heralded an audiovisual experience beamed into my head, movies played in my head, movies played upside down, movies played double time, and movies played one on top of another, all short, no more than 10 seconds long – all of which I knew were induced and not generated by me.

Sometimes I woke up with taser burns, biopsy scoop marks, strange bruises, joints out of place, and eventually an inoculation with Lyme Disease – an event from which I came back to consciousness earlier than the doctors expected, and I heard one man tell another that whatever they were doing to me would kill me slowly. This latter memory was only triggered when I stood up and felt the rough memory of the inoculation in my body.

I soon became disabled, for many days at a time, quit my job, took early Social Security, sold yet another home, and moved into an old RV for five years, camping in Nature.

As a nomad, I realized I was still being targeted with various experiments and harassments wherever I went.

Nevertheless, living in Nature, on Social Security, I had time to think about my life, and remember the positive parts about it, including the mystery of why I should accept that I might be from the Pleiades – as crazy as that sounds.

My mind control had included suggestions to never believe anything good about myself, and to never try to attract attention, so it was a huge struggle to believe these experiences had any reality to them.

Coming here to do good and relay information to others – I could believe that, but I didn’t want to talk overtly about it.

Having spontaneous healing and channeling flow through – I was grateful for, but again didn’t want to talk about it, as it felt like spiritual bragging.

Having been healed myself when in despair and not expecting help – again, I was always astounded and extremely grateful, but I didn’t want to talk about it.

Some of my experiences I’ve never known for sure whether they were from my helpers or my controllers – experiences like downloads that forced me to stagger to the nearest chair to sit and feel information flow into a part of my brain that “I” could not access but only wonder about, dreams about spaceships, beams of healing energy, and the emergence of an inner warrior who can immediately and easily dismiss an evil spirit that jumped out to threaten me.

None of these things did I seek. Possibly because of mind control, I wanted only to be normal, not to be associated with extraordinary things.

Because my mind control and punishments for publishing have included being socially sabotaged, isolated, and lied about for decades by family and handler-husbands and members of the control network, I’ve been very uncertain about how I’m supposed to accomplish anything.

Because “my angels,” as I call them (Pleiadian colleagues?), keep healing me, I believe there must be something I’m still supposed to accomplish here, but I do not understand how to accomplish anything, given my isolated situation.

Currently, I have defined my strange life online on a few sites: my professional/activist website; my book website; my mind control website; and my Garden Healing Church website, which I just sat down one day and wrote in its entirety as if channeled, and haven’t done much with ever since.

I have tried over the years to keep my mind control stuff and my spiritual stuff separate from the rest of me. Fearful, I assume, of driving away the few “normal” friends and acquaintances I have.

I did finally put links between my sites a few years ago, but I never tell anyone in my “normal” group of friends and acquaintances anything about what I post on the other sites.

Why? Having been isolated and sabotaged and discredited, it’s very hard to be vulnerable with information other people don’t want to believe.

Also, my efforts to communicate so often result in government punishment.

Also, I hesitate to state anything with certainty when we live in such an environment of lies. I don’t want to tell others anything wrong.

Finally, these experiences are multidimensional, and our language is wholly insufficient to describe it well, and the concepts have been culturally mocked and tied to silly cartoons.

But I’ve been encouraged by a recent spiritual healing to feel that it’s time.

(The videos I watched were part of Gaia TV’s Cosmic Disclosure: Pleiadian Agenda with Josh Golembeske.)

JeanEisenhower.com

RattlesnakeFire.com

ParadigmSalon.net

GardenHealingChurch.org

Context for my “You hoo” story

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.

IMG_1725

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)
– implants
– 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.

Morgellon’s, Fungus, and Cancer

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.

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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?]

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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.

Screen Shot 2020-04-05 at 9.05.40 PM.pngI’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.

YeshivaOr (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:

https://youtu.be/TsfzsdnczsA

 

Photos of fungus in Morgellon’s Disease

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.

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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.  th.jpg

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.  Photo on 2-29-20 at 7.41 PM.jpg

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.

Photo on 3-12-20 at 10.34 AM.jpg

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.)

morgellon09_02.jpgThere 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 parasitosis diagnosis, sadly.

Photo on 2-12-20 at 8.40 AM #3 4i.jpg Look at this pink fungal fruiting body!  On my scalp.

Peace.

Simple Cure! – for part of Morgellon’s

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.

Daily Check: What do Do?

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.

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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.

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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.

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focus on the fungal fruiting body with dark tip

 

 

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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.

Too Weak to Bathe

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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.

Photo on 1-27-20 at 8.59 AM cropI 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. Photo on 3-9-20 at 5.55 PMIn 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.

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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 ~

One “hair” that isn’t a hair

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.

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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.

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Above the bend, the organism (I feel I can call it now) is striped in color and transparency.

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Refocusing toward the tip, the striping continues.

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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.

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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.

UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_2cb

 

Maybe/not parasites/worms in sinuses

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 themHere’s how the latest unfolded for me:
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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

Many fibers 2019-08-12 at 12.47.18 PM sm

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.
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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.

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“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.)
Screen Shot 2019-08-12 at 2.52.21 PM.pngLooking 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 outI 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:

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green fiber

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orange fiber

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Blood-colored shapes under the skin

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Three punctures inside my cheek, along with a crystalline hair!

Screen Shot 2019-08-12 at 4.02.18 PM sm.pngAnd 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.
Screen Shot 2019-08-12 at 4.25.51 PM.pngSo 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.