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
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.
Or (that was just one alter talking) heal myself through prayer? Ask Jesus to heal me? (I have been.)
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.
Look at this pink fungal fruiting body! On my scalp.
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.”
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.
The Paradigm Salon 