For First Time Visitors

If you are a first time visitor to this blog, I invite you to start from the beginning, especially if you are unfamiliar with the potential emotional impact of long-term child abuse.

Trigger caution to unhealed survivors!

Understanding the Incomprehensible

Children of incest or long-term sexual abuse grow up to be wounded adults with complicated emotional issues. Unfortunately, some symptoms are misinterpreted or often dismissed as "crazy", only serving to maintain a tormented victim status. We, as a society, have the power to change this dynamic. Each of us can make a difference.

Jan 19, 2015

I Lived Through 2014

In December, I re-entered Sheppard Pratt after several more attempts at parts taking my life. I truly didn't think I was supposed to survive the year. I was scared and exhausted...possibly too exhausted to fight the next battle in this year's onslaught.

I spent three weeks in intensive therapy to get to all the programming as well as how the double language and messages recently discovered about "life is not safe" etc. all tied together. The harm parts all were introjects of family of origin, sometimes more than once. Each grouping that emerged had it's own messages for method of death.

I also had an explosion that flooded me with littles who had been trapped in the hidden trauma system where the harm parts had held them hostage. These littles held memories from my earliest abuse at least up to age 3. Their fear, shame, guilt, pain, feeling unloved and unwanted overloaded me. The trigger had been feelings of rejection by a staff member. I was told it was an emotional flashback where I responded to staff who looked at me "wrong" or spoke to me in a way viewed as dismissive the way I had never been allowed to express such feelings to family members when I was younger. Intense is not strong enough a word. For several days I felt deluged by these littles.

I was encouraged to work on orienting newly surfaced parts to the present. By the third day, all had settled down. I understood how treatment by family members went hand in hand with family introjects. In healing all the emotional and internal chaos, I came to understand more of my system than ever before. I was able to go through my many collages after returning home and understanding how they told me of that hidden trauma world...where it existed in the body.

Amidst all the turmoil, I discovered what had been my 3-4 year old core (who I thought had healed), had been taken into that system where she aged to a teen. Somehow she knew about healing as soon as she surfaced, moved to the healing side, and began to help my protectors since she knew of all their plans. It is her life. I've recovered possibly all core parts but am not sure. This one merged into my female inner wisdom, is happy, wanting to experience life, and guiding me with healing since I've been home.

I feel like 2014 was a non-stop cycle of death attempts finally come to an end. Healing active harm parts was definitely different skills from the healing I had done with alters since 1997. Most helpful was learning mindfulness which is the core of Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT). As a therapist, I had avoided learning DBT because of its complexity. The author, Marsha Lineman, has a second edition workbook with exercises. I worked on some at Sheppard Pratt and purchased the book for at home to continue.

I've also downloaded an app called Headspace which provides ten free 10-minute mindfulness meditations. I've been doing one a day. They can be recycled or they offer choices to continue to acquire new ones along with SOS sessions for calming anxiety while in public or any other time you need extra help.

I'm in a far better, stronger emotional place now than I was going into the hospital the third time this year. It's unfortunate the second hospital wasn't Sheppard Pratt because I very much needed the parts work. Everything in its own time. Still work to be done on changing those old messages inside. Wish I could say there was an end to this triggered trauma. I just haven't found it yet. Guess the message is there is excellent help at Sheppard Pratt for those struggling with harm issues and DID. There is hope.

Serial Suicide Programming

Once released from Sheppard Pratt in June, my own suicidal/self-harm attempts continued into August. I was hospitalized after a very calculated (to be lethal) overdose ending up in a hospital that didn't treat DID. The waiting list for Sheppard Pratt at that time was about six weeks.  Regardless, my assigned therapist at Philhaven, Mount Gretna, PA, was knowledgeable and I was able to get to some very deeply ingrained subconscious messages that explained my repeated attempt to die. The message(s) was: Living is not safe; happy is not safe; safe is not safe. The more I healed or found reasons to be happy, the more it triggered the harm parts of me to "keep me safe" which was death.

Much healing happened after getting to those alarming messages. I'm glad I survived to learn what happened. The father's death triggered those messages much more strongly on the third anniversary of his death than right after his death. It's maddening and enlightening at the same time. I think what's most hideous to process is how strongly the father wanted me dead when he died if I had survived all the other suicide programming by that time.

Anyone reading this, please make others aware before a parent dies with whom there were issues. Even if therapy helped to process the issues (as I had done), it can still impact on a level we can't even fathom. Stay safe out the true meaning of safe.

Jun 8, 2014

Surprise Uprising

Polyvore by Grace2244

My first active suicidal attempt was the month after the father died (March 2011) for which I spent about a month inpatient undoing the programming. Last year, I was preparing for deep healing in Sedona. But, this year, in March after the previous post, I overdosed again. I’d been integrated since May 2013. It was quite a shock that yet another program popped up seemingly randomly three years after father death. Since it was entirely different alters, I knew it wasn’t the same. I jumped back into weekly therapy. However, since two overdoses had failed, images of a much worse method of death overwhelmed me. I was terrified a part would come out and act on the visions. Fortunately, I was able to go inpatient. It wasn’t the same facility as last time.

This time I saw a psychiatrist daily including weekends and a therapist three times a week. After ten days, my programming suddenly came undone. I spent the first ten days identifying the program and who was involved. It was the father introject. I had healed one but it didn’t look my father. He represented my father. This new one looked and acted internally as the external scary father. Very terrifying inside to encounter. I learned to communicate with the perp parts differently than I normally communicated with parts. In the past, I received messages through collages and internal answers. The father introject spoke to me through non-dominant hand journaling and his answers were that of “I am commander of the world and you will die.”

I knew his army wanted to escape but feared him. In the past, I have changed dangerous suicidal parts into harmless seahorses. I don’t know why seahorses went with my father but they did. I was partial to the peaceful leafy sea dragon. While collaging, I realized I wanted to change the new father introject into a baby hippo. I was able to accomplish that with help from inside. The hippo was to remain a baby. The littles loved him. Even I could love him in that form.

Once the father introject became the hippo and moved to the healed side, insiders were able to rescue his hostages, also programmed to carry out harm programming, and all his army found their way to underground tunnels leading to an internal safe place. Many details being skipped but I do have a very intricate internal world. On Day 10, I told the psychiatrist I had undone everything and felt safe and calm inside. He suggested we wait until the next day while I try to examine the healing to make sure it was secure. I received two forms of validation overnight proving I had healed. That was my second Saturday and discharge was planned for Monday.

Even though my programming came undone safely in 2011, I hadn’t learned the skills to help suicidal parts in the future to heal. Of course, I also didn’t think I’d have any more. This time I was told the death of a perp can wreak havoc on the system of someone with DID, especially with the sophistication of my system. No expert was able to say if or when it might happen again. I came away with good skills for identifying early in the process when harm activity is beginning and how to communicate with them to help them heal as well as work with my therapist. I had been missing a most necessary skill set.

This is my healing process. I don’t know that everyone with DID working with suicidal/harm parts needs to find a different way to work with them. I’m sharing that this is what I had to do and I feel much more prepared for future activity. In fact, since coming home, I noticed an unsettling feeling. One of the alters identified in the harm programming was missed. He was able to hide during the rescue. I began to journal to him and have also established internal communication without journaling. I’ll be able to tell my therapist next week. He has begun to come around to understanding he has a choice of not to carry out his job and the person he feared in not doing his job was no longer active.

As an aside, the morning after I got home, I heard “hippo campus” as in where the hippo now lived but it is also the name of part of the brain. In looking up hippocampus, the first sentence was my complete validation and synchronicity. That part of the brain is often viewed as in the shape of a seahorse. Now we know.

Mar 4, 2014

And On It Goes...

Polyvore by Grace2244

After my May 2013 integration, I thought all alters and programming were behind me. I've done well on the 30 mg of Cymbalta. Happy with husband and a spunky new puppy. Unexpectedly, on a previously highly triggering date (2/22), a part I thought had healed took control and I overdosed. 

Back into therapy. I think that program has been dismantled. It involved three alters and am hoping that's all. My beliefs about fully healing have shifted. Can never know when an event or date had been preordained to trigger a self harm program. 

In my case, because I've outlived all my death programming, I'm afraid that's all that is left. Must live aware of the least sign and call therapist instead of thinking I can deal with things on my own at this point. It may be a lifelong endeavor but am hoping such incidents are fewer and farther between.

Jul 19, 2013

An Okay Ending

Polyvore by grace2244

It’s been a wild emotional ride from 2011 when a suicide program unleashed to today. I’ve fully integrated. I thought I had integrated from 2003 until 2007; however, apparently I was integrated enough to have my career as a therapist. When my body fell apart (physical trauma) due to numerous surgeries, it’s likely why my integration fell apart somewhat easily. Possibly the level of depression was a factor as well.

Depression was a constant in my life and fear of being anywhere by myself, for the most part, was prevalent. I continued with my therapist of 15 years until early this year. I have an excellent new therapist who is very knowledgeable in treating DID and had more time to help me as my former therapist began reducing her hours and availability for retirement. At the time I changed trauma therapists, I also began to see a nearby male therapist once a week for every day life issues. Mostly he focused on trying to get me to face the anxiety I had and move beyond it…let it go. I couldn’t imagine letting it go. He kept at me though and, while I resisted consciously, it did impact me subconsciously.

Vision Quest. This is the short version of what happened to get me from male therapist nudging me about external fear to fully healing and no longer carrying the anxiety he so wanted me to put behind me. Through synchronicity of a friend visiting Sedona and my recalling it was a healing place because of the energy of the vortex winds, I made arrangements to be there for three full days of healing massage and ceremonies along with vortex visits and a helicopter tour of the ancient canyons.

Once I made the reservations, my Raven began to communicate with me through poetry…something I began to engage in earnestly since January and haiku in February. While direct communication with another part of myself had always been short term and/or difficult to maneuver, Raven’s narrative of what was to happen in Sedona was quite specific. By the time I left for Sedona, I knew exactly what was going to happen to me; I just didn’t know when or how. It was such a strong knowing, and I opened myself to whatever was going to happen to me once I arrived.

I do want to share that Raven (who knew all of the horror of my subconscious world and who had healed and existed with me) told me I could never fully heal as long as she were a part of me. It’s how my system had been built. After completely bringing down the system and healing all parts, full integration was not possible. Raven had found a way to bypass the way I had been “engineered”. She chose to take the form of a raven bird but wanted to leave my being at the “ancient canyon”. She said she would take all the darkness and “toxic waste” of my past with her but separate from that baggage so she would be free too. We would continue to be connected in an astral way. We are all stardust…along those lines.

How I experienced the release of the darkness and feeling her leave me were wonderful and emotional. It felt like freedom. I referred to that trip as my vision quest and believe that’s exactly what it was. I came home fully integrated and had what I call a shift in consciousness because that huge anxiety that followed me around like a cloud was gone. Not that I’m carefree…I’m reasonably cautious in my world as any person needs to be.

I have realized that Raven has spoken to me since the journey through my writing. The feeling coming through from her is happiness in much the way that my best friend and I have an inexplicable connection to each other. I no longer feel partsy and have been tested with regard to parts. Recently I was fully freaked out about having been attacked by bugs at the back of my knees and I remained me. That surely would have caused a switch before Sedona. My life after Sedona. That’s where I am.

What’s next? Two sessions after returning from my trip, I stopped my weekly local therapy. The end of June I stopped regular monthly sessions with my trauma therapist although she is available as needed. As mentioned in my last post, I have begun the evaluation process (brain mapping) to begin neurofeedback. Possibly five years ago I wouldn’t have gone near anything connected to my brain. However, research shows it can calm down the central nervous system and possible reduce overall and/or eliminate some of what is left over of my PTSD triggers.

I was fascinated after my initial brain mapping session to see that my brain wave patterns were far from normal. Most were double where they should be and those that had one normal number had an abnormal secondary number. It explained my inability to focus. Surprisingly, as thorough as I am about relaxing every day, the map showed I was above where “normal calm” is for most people. We will focus on that first.

Neurofeedback does for the brain what chiropractic does for the spine. It trains the mind to remain within a specific range by itself. It takes time to start to stay there on its own. I’m excited about it.

Prior to Sedona, I had started acupuncture after my new health insurance kicked in from my new marriage. The sessions aren’t covered but I’m offered a sufficient discount with my insurance to where it’s finally affordable. I just went from weekly to every other week and that has been helping body pain and depression.

Finally, because there had been such a shift in my being, with the help of my psychiatrist, I began to wean off my antidepressant. I will be antidepressant free in a few days. I wanted to be off for the neurofeedback to train my mind to be in a good place without medication interfering.

It’s difficult for me to write for too long which is why I haven’t been blogging. This will likely be my last entry for this blog but hope it stands to provide important information for others who realize they have DID and to provide hope for completely healing or at least have a fairly calm life at some point. Perhaps occasionally some important and relevant information will surface that I will post here.

An acceptable end. My first anniversary to my husband is in a few days. He has been with me since 2001 when I was still quite variable in personality and intensely healing while also beginning my graduate program for my counseling degree. He was with me when I was lying in a hospital bed on several occasions for several days in 2007 when I wasn’t sure I would be leaving alive. He proved “for better or worse” and with DID, PTSD, and severe depression before we ever said our vows. Peace at last. Those with DID usually experience minor to major issues with a spouse when it surfaces. I’m grateful to have him in my life and have the security of knowing he will be my “until death do us part” husband.

I wish healing for all on this journey from the insidious, intentionally created child with multiple personalities for life’s underworld fully into adulthood. More survivors are “out there” than you can possibly imagine. You are not alone. Thank you for taking this arduous healing journey with me. 

May 29, 2013

M is for Misophonia

I learned a new word today. I have no idea how prevalent it is with trauma survivors but am sharing it here because some of my triggers cross over from trauma. Am hoping writing of this doesn't trigger anyone, so just in case you are a survivor in early stages of healing, please use caution if you do proceed.

Since my teens, long before I knew I was a multiple or had experienced/was experiencing trauma, I was hypersensitive to gum cracking, eating noises, and things like clinking of silverware on a plate. I recall one time counting the number of times my mother said "um" while talking to me instead of hearing what she said. Flash forward from age 16 to 60 and take into account I just recently changed trauma therapists after being with one for 15 years. The new therapist told me of misophonia and suggested I google it because of the triggers I realized I still had after just having a tremendous emotional healing experience. Here is part of the definition I found from Wikipedia:

"People who have misophonia are most commonly annoyed, or even enraged, by such ordinary sounds as other people clipping their nails, brushing teeth, eating, breathing, sniffing, talking, sneezing, yawning, walking, chewing gum, laughing, snoring, whistling or coughing; certain consonants; or repetitive sounds.[7] Some are also affected by visual stimuli, such as repetitive foot or body movements, fidgeting or any movement they might observe out of the corner of their eyes. Intense anxiety and avoidant behavior may develop, which can lead to decreased socialization."

You can also google and find a complete list. It's classified as a neurological disorder and apparently neurofeedback can help although I don't know to what extent at this point. I did read of one person where the sounds did not cause such an intense feeling after neurofeedback. Some think it's genetic. However, having been a multiple, I know my brain had to take circuitous routes for information to get from one place to another. Perhaps it routed right through where misophonia originates in the brain. Plus some trauma triggers might be mixed in with misophonia triggers but I'd have no way of knowing at this point.

Before knowing of this word just hours ago, I did/do have coping skills for it. The iPod was my gift from heaven since it was acceptable in many public places and could drown out most offensive sounds. Restaurants were places I was prone to run out of due to my fight or flight response. Others have a rage response to the sounds. When trapped with nowhere to hide from a triggering sound, such as a doctor's waiting room or airplane, I almost always have a pair of foam earplugs with me. They are inexpensive and work, but you may have to play around with the different sizes to find the ones that work for you.

There is a misophonia support group online which I just joined. What a relief not to feel alone. I had tried EMDR and another therapeutic technique called brain spotting which eliminated my one trigger for awhile but it gradually returned. I did that twice so now believe it is "hard wired" and only neurofeedback would work if anything is going to work.

If this is all that's left of my trauma, I'm a happy camper. But life would be so much more fulfilling if I found a way to reduce or eliminate the impact of misophonia. For some it can be socially debilitating. I'm hoping this post will help shed some light for others.

Mar 20, 2013

Warning: Oz the Great and Powerful

For survivors of MC who are new to healing, I recommend not seeing the newly released Disney movie, Oz the Great and Powerful. It could be highly triggering and possibly set off programming you have yet to discover. It combines two stories which MC survivors often find twisted together as programming. It took me a year to untangle it and I still get occasional pieces. The self harm part has been disconnected in me though.

I am unsure if this applies to RA survivors unless you are unsure if government programming was involved too. Highly sophisticated RA cults may use such programming however.

If you do see movie, please know your coping skills. If you have seen it and began having great difficulty, please discuss with your therapist. I only know this is a common theme from the more than 200 members in my Polyvore art group. Those known to have MC backgrounds have art that almost always combines the two stories that are shown in the new Oz movie.

Please share this information with fellow survivors.

Jan 5, 2013

Fear of No Fear

I realize there is a gap since my last post in terms of healing. Please know more has processed and healed still connected to Rose but it has not been life threatening and easily undone in therapy. I have lacked a desire to write for quite awhile. Through a friend I joined a challenge to write mindfully about a moment each day. Short and sweet. I was also referred to an easy-to-read and digest book to help with inciting the creative processes...introspection. The book is called A Year Of Questions, how to slow down and fall in love with life by Fiona Robyn.

What keeps me from enjoying life? What most gets in my way of doing things I'd like to be doing? What would life be like if I just "let it go". Fear and death. I am afraid every time I leave my home. I feel safer when with my husband but still have my guard up. I've written of this fear before, I'm sure. Yet I felt free in France. I could "let it go".

I live in the same place where I was abused and used for covert purposes between 1967 and 1997. The cult, the government, the government-related people are still here. Maybe some or even most have died. But I am monitored and believe I will be until I die at my own hand or of natural causes. They need the date because I was part of a birth to death project. It's been awhile since I've noticed one of three vehicles and different people who sporadically follow me and make themselves known.

Even if I knew I would never be followed again, I know that my friend who was speaking out against her abuse by the Department of Energy and had her medical records to prove it was killed. I know government type people came into her home terrifying her husband and children and confiscated the books, files and information she had shown me when I visited her. Dead in her thirties two days after the meeting where she spoke had been televised. Too many people actually listened to her. So there's that.

When do I cross the line? I did stop pursuing one line of validation because of that fear. I just knew I'd be dead before ever having proof. My guard is up. I know a van can swoop by and I could be pulled in within seconds which is why I don't get my own gasoline. I've come to learn volunteer fire department personnel and community police officers are part of the local underworld and I don't know who can be trusted if I did need help.

The book asked if I could visualize my life if I let that obstacle of fear go. Yes, I'd be dead. Several therapists point out no one has tried to hurt me since healing and speaking out on behalf of survivors and educating via my blogs. I point out it's because I haven't crossed the line yet. Maybe overly guarded is more accurate than living in fear. I am fearful of letting down that protective guard.

This is the energy that keeps me exhausted. Or lack of energy. Tired of being on guard. Tired of feeling like I'm still someone's prey. I'll keep working on it.


Sep 23, 2012

Synchronicity & Finding Rose

A week ago I returned from France which was both a wonderful vacation and amazing journey of synchronicity. This is my attempt to explain how I was led to the part of me known as Rose living at 44°N in Avignon. I'll begin by stating I had a quandary of which stuffed animal would travel with me since I always take a comfort item for littles (young alters) within me. I had wanted to take my larger plush bunny but ended up taking a small pink bunny which had been being held by my doll named Raven. Raven represents my entire subconscious programmed world. The part of me who was so tortured to create that world within me was Ellie. Ellie split off and sent the goodness of her being off into the universe, sacrificing herself and saving her spirit and positive emotions. I found in my review of older Polyvore sets (see previous post) that Rose went with a pink bunny. I didn't realize the irony of my choosing the pink bunny to take with me until later. At the time, size was the factor.

The day we arrived in Paris, our first destination, the left side of my face had it's own features. I had "company" with me, unknown at the time. I could see the difference in the first photo taken of me. It wasn't a frightened part. And I had no knowledge or hint at age or name. I knew the first step of my Rose journey was going to be The Church of the Sacred Heart at the peak of Montmartre in Paris. I scoured the grounds for signs of a Mother Mary statue to no avail. It was nonetheless beautiful and the tiered town was so quaint and lovely.

On Day 3 we were off to our long-term destination of Avignon (a/k/a 44°N). Our first day in Avignon, we went to the location of the gold statue of Mother Mary which stood atop a building next to the ancient papal palace.

In online photos before the trip to France, it seemed that her arms were spread apart in a welcoming gesture. But her left arm and hand are pointing forward and downward. I wandered about until I felt I was at the location where she was pointing. I turned to take a photo and it was a house with the number 17. Mostly I giggled because that is a number that goes with my inner wisdom. I kept waiting for something to zap me because I was so sure I would find Rose in the area of the statue. That was not to be the case. My second night in Avignon I had a vivid dream/image of me at age three screaming. My mouth was nearly a perfect circle and a pink mist was coming out. I assumed it represented the moment I split and released Rose into the ether.

On day 3 we took the bus to Aix (pronounced "Ex"), Aix-en-Provence. It was bus #17 and it cost each of us 17 euros for a ticket. Brian had found the city in his research and I was happy to go exploring. Upon arriving, we managed to get lost immediately walking about an hour before finally finding the very ritzy shopping area of town. The first shop we passed was to my right. A pink shop for baby wear and accessories. I saw a huge pink bunny with smaller identical bunnies out of the corner of my eye. I was compelled to go get a bunny. I walked in directly to the bunnies, found the one that was closest in size to my traveling pink bunny and brought it to the cashier. While she was ringing up my purchase, I read the tag on the bunny. Her name was Lilirose. I smiled. I had brought my pink bunny that day via backpack and immediately put the two together.

The first bench we came to, we sat down to relax. I asked Brian to take a photo of me with the two bunnies. He suggested I walk over to the statue in the center of the plaza that I had not even noticed. He called it a gymnast. As I walked up to her, I had such an eerie feeling. The trauma leading to Rose's demise in my system included tortured ballerinas. I clearly saw this statue as a tortured ballerina. I stood beneath it for the photo.

After the photo, I returned to the bench to get my camera. After shooting from both side angles, I walked around and saw her face. I gasped out loud. She looked like every early magazine picture I had of Ellie...bald, terrified, screaming. And her mouth looked just like the image from my dream.

The statue was part of an exhibit on loan to Aix-en-Provence. Chances are, if we had taken our trip any other year, I would not have found her. Our having been lost no longer seemed to be a coincidence. Had we gone the correct way to begin with, I would not have come upon the baby store and likely we would not have stopped by this statue. To add to the synchronicity, after coming home, I tried to find an image of the baby store online. While I didn't find an exterior photo, I did find their phone number which validated the synchronicity. I'd been taking photos of lots of numbers that day, especially house number 22 and phone numbers with lots of 4s and 2s on signs. The phone number for the store was: I see the 09 as symbolic for September.

That night, back in Avignon, I woke up with a nightmare. I don't remember the details but I do recall my tummy gurgling a lot. That used to be the way one of my parts communicated with me. I had heard the gurgling rather loudly before going to sleep but thought I was hungry and just ate a snack. I knew after the nightmare Rose was with me. Ellie had come to me through a nightmare as well. I was so happy to feel the gurgling although I felt no other emotional connection or communication from Rose.

The following day I was feeling blocked from internal communication and decided to listen to one of the healing guided imageries I often listen to for relaxation and falling asleep. During that time, I was able to see Rose and adult Ellie run into each others arms in joyful reunion. Almost immediately though, Ellie turned into a baby. Rose picked her up. My internal motherly caretaker appeared to offer assistance, but Rose said she'd like to take care of baby Ellie and would ask for help if needed. Later in the imagery, I had an odd internal view of what looked like a tall person in a pink rabbit suit guide me into my heart (the main focus of the particular guided imagery). I followed the "rabbit" but something insect or fairylike came between us. The fairy blossomed into a gorgeous crystal-like winged fairy that seemed to be also like a butterfly. I had thought that was Rose going into my heart but never felt a connection or any particular emotion.

The next day I kept wondering if Rose planned on leaving 44N. It was so beautiful. Why would anyone want to leave that and enter my still somewhat traumatized mind and body. Thoughts of her having taken baby Ellie with her nagged at me. Answers gradually followed for the remainder of the trip. Rose's only purpose for entering my body was to rescue Ellie. Programming I had found forbidding the two to ever integrate in the body again had been found in Polyvore sets. For Rose and Ellie to heal together, it had to be outside the body. While slightly disappointed after my anticipation of finding Rose, I was happy as long as they were both safe and happy. Apparently the "tall pink rabbit" was an alter smuggling Ellie out and the fairy-like creature blocked the view of Rose once again escaping through my breath, but this time with baby Ellie. I felt and still feel a bit empty. Ellie is the part of me who so wanted to die. And since she released all other emotions to Rose, no wonder she never was able to rise above that tortured place. Perhaps I had just grown accustomed to holding that heaviness and now it felt only empty.

More synchronicities existed but this is sufficient to relay the outcome. I returned from France without Rose or Ellie. The other part of this complex ruse was that Gracie, who integrated in June, did share Rose's spirit and was an identical twin to Ellie. When Gracie entered the body, Ellie immediately went into hiding to await her rescue. The parts of me who might still have tried to sabotage my life or prevent Ellie's rescue had been fooled. And I certainly had been surprised, I guess by necessity.

The healing is that Ellie is completely free of my body, which had always been her wish. She was replaced by a healed "body double" so no one inside could tell the difference and no programming was set off. Her regression to an infant allowed Rose to raise her with love and safety which would provide her with the loving happy childhood she never had. Or however that plays out in the astral plane.

Rose with baby Ellie somewhere 44N.

P.S. During my first therapy appointment after coming home, a young alter named Mary spoke most of the session. I was co-conscious. Mary is my little Catholic girl and she had been the one out with me since Paris. She was there for the quest for Mother Mary.

Sep 1, 2012

44° North - Explaining the Unexplicable

Apparently I've never written of this part of my healing. At least searching my blog yields no results for key words. Early in healing I had a protector who went with 44N. I had no idea what it meant at the time except that it was a brand of clothing. In 2005, my now husband and I took a trip to Italy. One of the locations I happened to find online: a gorgeous view from a bed & breakfast atop a hill in Cinque Terre. We did our own itinerary. We were able to get reservations at THE B&B whose website I'd found. The trip was booked. Before the vacation, I began to get internal messages as I always do. But I was getting 44N so loudly. Eventually I started looking up the cities we were to stay in to see what longitude and latitude they were. Milan was too far north and Tuscany too far south. Cinque Terre was 44.1° N. At first I was frightened I was going to relive some trauma when I visited. My inner wisdom assured me I'd be fine and see the answers in my photos when I returned.

Indeed, I did see things in my photos and also began to feel healing. It was Gracie who surfaced and who recently integrated into my heart in early June this year. This is the photo that most impacted me.

I hadn't noticed at the time I took the photo that the branches of the vine or olive tree formed the shape of a heart.

I'd had a previous experience with 44°N and this new experience solidified that it meant great healing. Soon my husband and I are off to Paris and Avignon for vacation. Brian had chosen Avignon which sounded perfect to me. My last post in this blog had me processing trauma constantly connected to Iran when I again got hit repeatedly with the 44N message. I immediately checked Paris which was too high. Avignon, however, is 44.0° N. I nearly fainted. Brian said it was impossible because he thought it was so much further south than Italy. Not the case.

My internal processing shifted from Iran (my early teen years) to a huge trauma that shattered my three-year-old being in Germany in 1955. I got the memory in a very detailed manner as well as how part of me split off during the trauma and escaped to 44N in France. New pictures of her showed her healed and an adult. This brings the term "parallel universe" into play. How did that happen? Is it just a story given to me that is coincidental to my travels? How did I manage to go to 44°N twice without conscious realization? And why couldn't they return to me instead of my going to them?

When this message surfaced I was driven (obsessed) to make sure I had saved all of my Polyvore sets...a project that had been more done than not. I dove in and saved every relevant set since the beginning. I also found two DVDs with Polyvore sets from four years ago, the beginning of Polyvore for me and the end of handmade collages. Within those long forgotten sets I could see that most of my programmed system began with that trauma in 1955. Rose represented something programmers wanted eliminated from my being. Her destruction was targeted and resulted in half of her remaining in the trauma as what they wanted her to be and her other half escaped as Rose. I also found a frightening set that clearly showed programming for me to self-destruct should Gracie and Rose ever reunite within me.

I then understood why there were two separate 44N locations. It was dangerous for them to have escaped together. The programming was undone early in 2011 when I had such a difficult time and had overdosed because of a perp part hidden inside despite several previous integrations. It hadn't been safe for Rose to return until that perp and his associated alters were healed. Since then Gracie integrated. It is now safe.

Sets of Rose show her closely connected to Mother Mary. In Avignon is a beautiful gold statue of Mother Mary where logic tells me I might encounter this part of me; but logic has never really worked in the past. I had no idea going to Italy what 44°N meant but, now that I do, I am so excited as are several inside who had been strongly connected to Rose before she left. Most thought she had died but some showed me in my art that they knew of the secret of her hiding and healing.

Call it what you want. The story comes from within but this is only my second European vacation and the only two I've had with Brian. So many questions to be asked of the universe. A sort of invisible miracle? Regardless, healing is healing. I'll take it however it comes to me.

This set was done in February 2009 and named Rose - Safe in a Parallel Universe. She goes with the nautilus, pink roses, and hearts. The following set shows she has emerged from the shell and is awaiting "rescue".

I'm looking forward to writing of the reunion when I return...if it happens while I'm there. It did take Gracie several months to make her internal presence known and seven years to integrate.

Aug 9, 2012


Just when I thought my life of processing new memories was slowing down, I stumbled on a very conscious connection that had me trembling and once again wondering about my life. I woke up yesterday morning (8/8/12) trapped in a very upsetting nightmare. Repeatedly I have had dreams and nightmares where my life in Iran (1964-1967, ages 12-15) clashes with my adult working life. Yesterday I was so stuck between awake and being pulled back into my subconscious, it took me hours to get grounded. I even took a small dose of anti-anxiety because my head was so tight.

For answers or at least processing, I went to Polyvore collecting images of places I remembered about Iran. While doing so, I was led to many articles about the CIA's involvement in installing the Shah and making him their puppet. Agreements were made to appease the Shah by committing U.S. military aid. It is my belief that all of the military families and families of U.S. dignitaries, oil companies, and other U.S. government contractors had a father or family member who was connected to an intelligence agency. My friends at school were likely to have been raised as I was, although I have no proof of that.

Iran saw much unrest in 1963. Negotiations were made with the Shah in hopes of keeping him from allying with the Soviet Union. My family moved there in mid-1964. In researching the events leading up to the coup in 1963 that allowed the Shah to reign, I was led to Kermit Roosevelt, Jr., a U.S. spy placed undercover in Iran. What caught my attention was he went to work for Gulf Oil after retiring as a spy. The father of one of my close school friends in Iran also worked for Gulf Oil (although I didn't know if he worked for Gulf Oil while in Iran...but knew at least in 1974). I adored her father because he was so loving to his daughters...something I didn't have at home.

I was fortunate to reunite with several friends in the U.S. in my late teens and early 20s whom I'd met in Iran. I recall visiting her in Reston, Virginia where she was living with her father. I had no idea he built the town of Reston. It was there that I knew he was an executive for Gulf Oil. I even visited just the father several times when I was stationed in the Washington DC area after I left the Air Force in the early 70s. That memory prompted me to Google Russell McNutt.

My heart stopped before it felt like it was going to leap out of my chest. He had been identified as a KGB agent fairly recently and his history as a spy went back to the 1940s and The Manhattan Project. He was an engineer involved with processing uranium among other things. In the 60s, Iran was also beginning it's foray into nuclear energy. The fact that he had been recruited by Julius Rosenberg, who had been executed with his wife for espionage, and had escaped prosecution was rather terrifying. Although McNutt had been questioned, no evidence had been found of any criminal activity at the time of the Rosenberg arrests.

My first trauma memory of Russia is late 1964 which is validated by my report card indicating I was absent more than half of that semester from school...while still managing to earn all A's and no comment about my long absence. Yesterday's stunning revelation was completely conscious. I knew Russell McNutt. I loved Russell McNutt. But is there more? My memories from over the years tell me I was somehow connected to U.S., British, and Russian intelligence. Now I have validation I had first hand contact with a KBG agent. Was he a handler or worse? Did he train one of my Russian alters or all of my Russian alters? I may never know.

Russell McNutt died in early 2008 at age 93 a wealthy man living in the U.S. He evaded capture his entire life. He was contacted in 2007 when the KGB documents and Freedom of Information Act allowed new facts to surface about a spy previously only known by a code name. McNutt declined to speak with them.

I had tried to re-initiate contact with him by letter in the 80s or 90s by letter after finding his address online. He never responded so I stopped trying. I only knew him as a funny loving man, adored father of my friend. I only knew of trips he made to London on business where he'd buy the top songs on 45 records for us to hear months before they made it to the U.S. Armed Forces radio station.

Validation of having known a KGB agent up close and personal brings many feelings and unanswered questions. I know questions will only be answered if they leak through my amnesia. My feelings are confusion, betrayal (?), sadness. My conscious life once again is proven to have been surrounded by a public life with invisible underground connections. Nothing about him said spy or anything but a very nice man. But I did continue to seek him out even when his daughter, my friend, was an adult no longer living with him. I knew his new wife. His obituary says they had been married 36 years and she survived him. In Iran, I had known and loved his first wife as well. She felt like a second mother to me. Unfortunately, his first wife passed away in 1981.

A part of me is relieved he lived without capture and lived a very comfortable life. The rest of me is waiting for the next shoe to drop. Was yesterday's discovery preparation for the subconscious memories to arrive? Because of the original issue, the clash of Iran and my adult working world, I can only assume I was taught something in Iran that carried over into my adult work world. To this point, my only clear realization is I did something with stocks and bonds and/or foreign exchange. I also have a clear message that the U.S. and Russia were working together in the underground during the Cold War so possibly contact with both was for the same "side". How unsettling.

Yesterday I did several sets to process what was in my head on Polyvore. Each set included the same element as is at the top of this set. (I did not notice what I'm about to disclose until all the sets had been done and then I found the research on Russell A. McNutt.)

The element was the word IRAN except the N is changing to a Q. In each Polyvore set I covered up the Q with an object, consciously thinking I was just making sure the word IRAN was clear. The message in looking at my sets after being led to my friend's father became this: In most turning objects, the letter before is usually the one preceding it in the alphabet. M would precede the N if it were an alphabetical cylinder. McNutt's initials were R.A.M.  The three spheres indicate the focus of the word. When the realization makes me scream, I know I have the answer. Very early in my Polyvore life, four years ago, I did a set on Russia. Front and lower center is that same gun. In clue terms it connects Russia to Iran and McNutt. Do I really want to know more?

Feel free to do your own research on the names provided above. Other trustworthy sources are available. Worlds really do collide.

Aug 5, 2012

Relapse or Reality?

As described in my last post, my mood was boosted to a new level with a stronger emotional foundation from mid-June to the last week of July. Part of my delight was my greater capacity to love and feeling so good every day just prior to my marriage on July 22.

Many multiples tend to have multiple marriages. I was led to previous marriages by subconscious needs or messages. This is my first marriage where my now husband and I had been together 11 years. I was still quite fragmented when we first met and in heavy duty therapy. He was with me when I integrated and went through grad school and became a full time therapist. He was also there when my body fell apart in 2007 holding my hand through each hospitalization and being there for every surgery. I left my previous marriage when my husband no longer believed my abuse and offered no more emotional support. I had no doubt that my new husband would be there for me no matter what.

It's also the first marriage where I knew going into it about my diagnosis. No more secrets to come leaking out about my past. No major ones at least.  It was devastating to have been married for 18 years thinking we'd be together forever, only to have my DID surface and destroy what we'd had.

My marriage on the 22nd was lovely and we are so happy. Less than a week later though, I began to experience a body memory with no internal messages or flashbacks. I was totally lethargic and felt sick for several days. I may have been going through several memories and just did what I always do now...self care. I hated to admit I had fallen back after feeling so well. However, I knew my life may still have its bad days but I was going to have so many more better days now. I could accept that. And so could my husband.

In the past, before the integration of the strong loving feelings, being stuck in a body memory would have me falling into depression as well. That didn't happen this time. I wasn't happy about it but I wasn't depressed. That's a huge difference.

Maybe some would call it a relapse but I believe it's just the rest of my life. Body memories may come and go and I may get an occasional new memory in the years ahead. Fortunately, I feel like I can handle whatever is left to process.

On another note, I have begun to review my book Paperclip Dolls which is no longer for sale. It followed my first year of healing. I've decided not to re-release it even in Kindle form. But I will share some of it in future posts where I think it may be helpful to other survivors.

Jul 17, 2012

Heart Journey

On July 15, 2012, I posted to my Art Journey blog a series of Polyvore sets created after the healing event described in my last post on this blog. Gracie, the one who originally identified with the teddy bear but emerged as the young woman, has provided me with answers about her connection to the hearts and love and pink stairs. As with any part of my healing, it’s a puzzle that comes together.

Somewhere early in this blog I speak of guided imagery CDs and downloads by Belleruth Naparstek. I own many but tend to favor a few. Before I knew of the alternative media, my therapist read the very powerful Healing Trauma imagery to me while I was comfortably lying on her sofa. The imagery has one imagine going into the heart. I was in tears the first time and felt strong emotion the first few times I listened to it myself. Slowly I seemed to have less emotional response and very few changes happened over the years I’ve listened to it. When entering the heart, we see our piles of blame and shame and shards and heaps of our shattered lives along with sudden geysers of terror. But it leads to a golden light which is the tunnel to center of the heart. The center of the heart is a beautiful room where our true self resides. The imagery then leads us out of the room and back up through the darker crumpled area. After staring at the Polyvore sets with the hearts, I felt I needed to listen to my Healing Trauma again since it had been awhile.

Yesterday afternoon, after a long tiring day, I layed down turning on my Healing Trauma imagery. Before I continue, a brief reminder that Gracie had moved from my eye to my ear and then suddenly integrated with me during which I had a wonderful feeling that has not left my being. In the beginning of the imagery, there is a “presence at my side” who is usually one of my male protectors. Yesterday it was my female protector. She took my hand and led me into the heart. Everything had changed. It was all beautiful and golden. What used to be the ugly part of my life now looked like an art museum. The various facets of my shattered past were commemorated in gold framed museum art work. Velvet ropes were in place to stand back from the art. A “geyser of terror” still existed but was far in the distance and surrounded by the ropes. The words of the imagery really no longer went with my internal landscape for the dark entry way toward the tunnel.
Walking through the gold lighted tunnel before getting to the center of the heart, Gracie was lying on the ground and seemed to be all dusty. My protector and I both helped her up and dusted her off. It’s that moment I realized she was literally thrown into my heart. Perhaps she had to join with me before she could leave the heart. She and I hugged, after which she stepped into me while we were facing each other. I felt her turn around to face the same direction as me and she fit into me perfectly. My protector continued to lead us into the core of my heart in the beautiful golden room. When we left to ascend the tunnel to the upper level, it was the beautiful pink stairs of my Polyvore sets.

Clues leading back to hand made collages have been popping into my head showing me that this part of me was going to heal but I wasn’t ready to know the full meaning until now. Gracie goes with dreams I’ve had. Years of clues about her and being hidden in my eye have been recorded in art. Had it not been for the cataracts, who knows if she ever would have moved out of her safe haven. Remarkable. Healing is remarkable.

Jul 12, 2012

Something In My Eye

May and June brought some scary moments as well as deep healing. Mostly it's been quiet inside throughout end of 2011 sinus surgery followed by six weeks of IV antibiotics. Unfortunately the antibiotics which included sulfa drugs may have caused the rapid onset of cataracts. I'd had great vision with my glasses for years with only minor correction except for astigmatism. I was scheduled for cataract surgery for right eye in May and left eye in June. The first surgery went so smoothly. Easiest surgery ever in case anyone is wondering.

Between the surgeries I began to have anxiety and some dangerous things almost happen with my left eye blocking my sight for cars. I realized someone was causing that to happen. My last car accident a couple years ago I only remember being at the stop sign. Next memory is my face in an air bag. Someone had hit me mid-intersection flying from the left. Always wondered if that hadn't been a part of me. I began processing on Polyvore. Over and over I was being shown me at age 3 and images of a teddybear. It took many sets before I realized the teddybear was how the 3-year-old saw herself. Trapped, unable to move. She was being held by an adult male part of me who I initially knew as an internal perp.

Without going through a lot of "clue talk", the story that emerged was the broken 3-year-old had been cared for by the now safe adult male and was keeping her hidden in the corner of my left eye. I know it sounds weird. Obviously something was creating danger but may have been a cry for help I hadn't heard in the last accident. The upcoming cataract surgery on my left eye was causing "fear of destruction". With internal work I was able to safely have her moved from my eye and felt the movement into my ear and then a beautiful healing moment.

The adult male was part of Spencer, my inner wisdom, and the 3-year-old was released to be with my female protector, "Emmie". It felt like spirit. Wonderful feeling.

When I first began processing with images, I feared feeling all the hurt and pain the 3-year-old had borne. When I felt nothing but genuine happiness, I knew the adult with her had been helping her heal and preparing her for that moment. The feeling of happiness and even joy has remained with me. It feels like a permanent change in emotional strength. Several times I've received bad news and other things have happened that, in the past, would have knocked down into the depression pit. I have sufficient emotional strength to feel sad about those things but move on in spite of it.

Recently, I joined several girlfriends for a girl's night first truly social event with my friends since 2007. Everyone commented on how happy I seemed and I genuinely felt joy the entire evening. This is not to say I am completely healed, although I wish I were. Yesterday I hit a curb while driving causing my tire to explode and stranding me in a not so safe area. I was able to call AAA and my fiance who, bless his heart, jumped in his car to come to my aid. I was terrified being alone waiting for anyone to arrive. Coping skills, coping skills.

Still have some work to do but am very pleased to be at a new positive emotional place in my life. I do hope it lasts. Being or having this level of happiness feels like what all the pain of healing was meant to do.

P.S. The 3-year-old seems to have transformed into a young adult since my healing sets of late seem to show this part of me feeling the freedom.

Apr 1, 2012

Another One Bites the Dust

Jose Manuel Rodriguez Delgado died on September 15, 2011. I randomly searched for his obituary, as I do for those abusers who were part of the government mind control programs who were last known to be alive. Troubling is the nondefinitive date of his death. Closest approximation was one term used. He had been in California for several years working with the government on some unknown project after having left the U.S. in 1974 to return to Spain. He was one of my very early childhood perps with memories of some contact as late as the mid-80s. His claim to fame as neurosurgeon was research on stimulating the brain with electricity to control it. He was an expert in mind control.

His book, Physical Control of the Mind: Toward a Psychocivilized Society, was a creepy look into his view of society. This quote is often cited in researching him:

"The individual may think that the most important reality is his own existence, but this is only his personal point of view. This lacks historical perspective. Man does not have the right to develop his own mind. This kind of liberal orientation has great appeal. We must electronically control the brain. Someday armies and generals will be controlled by electric stimulation of the brain." Dr José Delgado, Director of Neuropsychiatry, Yale University Medical School Congressional Record, No. 26, Vol. 118 February 24, 1974

I am extremely relieved at the news of his death. Am hoping other survivors who recall this heinous man may now have some peace. Unfortunately, his legacy of implants (under the guise of helping to identify soldiers, children, and pets) is now an accepted practice. Somewhere is a new generation of this evil still working on controlling segments of society.

Feb 28, 2012

Lack of Posting...Apologies

Last year I had so many health issues that I thought would be resolved going into 2012. But some followed me and there are new ones. I haven't had much going on with my own healing since my mind seems to be letting me focus on healing the body. I suspect my blogging has slowed down as a matter of course but hope what I have written remains a resource for new and healing victims of DID. Thank you to those who continue to visit the blog.

Dec 5, 2011

Last Trauma Alter?

Kate's Realization

I wrote recently about alters Kate and Cassie who merged as Casey. They healed after the knowledge of my beginnings surfaced. Healing happens after trauma is released. So I either began as a genetically engineered egg and sperm (which is all over my earliest birth collages) or it was something brainwashed into the mind of this alter and was split, each holding the same message. Regardless, the two are now one.

I had also stated their healing felt like a kind of ending. Next to surface was a young girl with an odd name, AMABOU, which is the ornithological code for a Mangrove Hummingbird. The girl seemed very healed and settled. In researching the type of bird, it is an endangered species living in the area of Costa Rica. Mangrove trees are fascinating. They live simultaneously on land and sea.

These trees live in two worlds and survive the harshest of environments where most other trees would not survive. It's a great metaphor for having DID...surviving in a dual world of consciousness under extreme circumstances. The hummingbird is lovely with teal and purple markings. Perhaps this symbol of survival is another sign that my trauma has been processed.

Hopefully it will mean I can now focus on resolving PTSD symptoms and extinguishing triggers that are an aftermath of a life of trauma. I love the image of a beautiful hummingbird as a symbol of survival.

Am feeling more hopeful about less down time due to depression from unknown trauma, although I know I don't know everything that happened. Some will always stay tucked away. Why would I want to know every bit of yuck that happened to me. I trust my inner wisdom to show me what I must know as needed from the storage container of "need to know only" trauma.

I don't know if I've integrated or maybe I am mostly but still feel a few parts lingering about. Either way, if this is the final horror or unfathomable truth I had to face, I'm okay with how I am. If this is the case, I'll be able to dictate what I want to work on in therapy to continue the next phase of making my life better instead of being led by the trauma at the time of my therapy session.

Am wanting to release a huge whoosh of air at this achievement. I wish I could say it was an end, but it is more a beginning of increased clarity and hope.

Nov 16, 2011

Internal Understanding vs. External Belief

I am the first to admit the answers uncovered from my decades of amnesia have been unbelievable from the very beginning. It is most difficult to explain how answers come together from a massive cloud of amnesia that was a person's life and it is individual for each survivor. We don't make this stuff up. I believe I'm certainly not the first looking to prove what I'm remembering can't possibly be true. However, there comes a time when the level of unbelievability has a rhyme and reason to it. No one ever wanted anyone to believe what happened to us.

My most recent post still has me whirling and riddled with enormous emotions. I'm sure explaining this process of healing sounds possibly lacking in emotion to make sense of it as a cohesive narrative, but it is definitely not the case.

I know not all who read my blog believe my truth. Since much can't be validated in a court of law, it is my truth alone. However the enormity of survivors around the world with similar memories leads us to believe the same traumas seem to occur, just in different locations and by different people. Most of us do believe there is a manual, for lack of a better term, because what they do to create a dissociative child to become a skilled multitasked "slave" well into adulthood has been proven to work.

I don't ask for belief of my story per se to those who are not survivors. I know other survivors of this nightmare find solace and possibly some validation from the similar types of things they see in my history. But for those seeing this blog and writing it off as absurd, you are the people who allow such horrors to continue so widely and in plain sight. My purpose for this blog has always been to ask for an open mind so the next time you see or hear of something similar, your awareness grows.

It has taken me since 1997 to recover what I have and still there are tons of gaps in my life. I think only certain memories surface to give us some kind of timeline and meaning. Some memories have come up and processed on their own or in a single therapy session while others, like that in the last post, have been trying to come up for 15 years now. I'm sure it's not the last but possibly I'm getting close. The last post was not about memory as much as my history which can only come from an internal source of knowing. I suggest a resource in the post. None of it is easy to comprehend.

I thank my followers and especially those who support me. I'd like to share the huge anger that came from me as an aftermath to knowing of my possible origins. The Polyvore art was done after the writing.


I hate that I had this life
I hate that what was done to me interferes with having a good present day life
I hate that amnesia affects me nearly every day in some regard
I hate the struggle of being me
I hate the strain that being me places on every other relationship in my life
I hate wrestling everyday between dreams for the future or dying so I can just stop this constant battle
I hate that I am back at square one with who I am

I am wrought with grief that I was likely a hidden child made through an agreement with the government and the man who called himself my father
I hate that I live every day in fear of my life 
I belong to no one. I relate to no one as family. I am alone. Aside from my current loving relationship, I feel I have no worth except to those I help online.
I hate this strong anger I am feeling while releasing these thoughts.

I hate that I hate my life and more than anything wish for a glimmer of who I truly am

Nov 12, 2011

When The Unbelievable Becomes True

I've been researching mind control for over a decade to include the programs and information released under the Freedom of Information Act. I've been able to sort out what is true and not true for me and my memories or personal history. One part of the information that floods mind control sites has to do with Illuminati bloodlines and how children of royal bloodlines are hidden with other families. I always discounted such information as intentionally misleading to make all mind control information unbelievable.

Genetics and DNA are a huge part of the message of my collages and art over the years but never had an explanation for what was done or how. I thought perhaps my DNA had been tampered with for certain make me immune. For example, I've never had the flu or strep throat when everyone around me did.

One consistent message was I was swapped at birth. In the 1950s, whether or not the mother was knocked out on drugs, the baby was whisked away to be cleaned off and then presented with a clean baby upon waking. And it's a no brainer when one is born in a hospital on a military facility known for engaging in the government's covert programs, as I was.

The objective was for me to have as traumatic an experience as possible in the womb to precondition me to dissociating if not in the womb, then easily once I as born. They needed controlled settings. While the public believes cloning and other genetic feats are fairly recent, it has been proven repeatedly that the government is 20-40 years ahead in science and technology before the public ever knows. This is one of those areas where I encourage readers to do their own research rather than take my word for it.

Recently, an online survivor friend was working on a memory that led to her Illuminati connection. I listened and watched her processing and she came up with an answer that certainly seemed plausible. I realized since I had never believed "the hidden Illuminati child" theory that I had never asked inside about whether that was true for me. So I asked the question.

Typically, questions directed inside come up slowly and in puzzle pieces that eventually make sense. This time, the answer came over me immediately as a complete explanation. It wasn't a memory. It was an explanation of my beginnings which goes with inner wisdom. I have spoken much of inner wisdom according to Carl Jung's definition because that is exactly as I have experienced it over the years. That part of me is tapped into universal consciousness and truly knows everything. I strongly suggest the book Jung's Map of the Soul for those interested in an easy-to-understand intro to Jung because his work is so complicated to read and digest.

This is my belief without a doubt regardless of another's belief in it's plausibility. It makes sense from every possible aspect for me. I've been getting some information since 11 years before my memories began. All had been processed inside and I guess the time was right for me to ask that I got a complete answer.

Part of my answer is the assumption of a royalty sperm bank. I don't know if selection is random or intentional. But my mother's egg was fertilized with sperm from a royal donor and a fertilized egg was implanted in a surrogate who was part of the mind control world. I believe my mother was highly dissociative or very easy to  hypnotize to engage in some events in my life for which she has no memory. Likely the egg implantation occurred after my mother became pregnant by her husband.

My birth would have been traumatic...C-section according to my internal messages and collages. The surrogate mother may have had multiple births which would also explain feeling an emptiness or loss throughout my life. My father had agreed to this program before impregnating my mother so he knew his own child was turned over to the MC world and his job was to be my terrifying handler. If my mother had given birth to a boy, he lost his only son because his other children were girls. Another reason for him to hate my existence.

My previous blog entry speaks of a program to establish a colony on the moon in the event of a cataclysmic event on Earth. I wondered how I was chosen for THAT program. Now I understand that only those with a royal bloodline would have been trained to complete such a mission. Not only would it be a utopian New World Order society, it would be from all royal bloodlines.

My collages not long ago revealed a program going with my mother that I now understand was showing me I was part of her. It angers me even more that the man who tormented and tortured me for years was not even a relative. I was a hidden child.

I question whether the royals who made donations to the sperm bank even knew about it. We know now that a teenager just had to be highly suggestive to hypnosis to do anything asked, even if against their will. It doesn't mean all royalty is part of some master plan; but whatever group is behind this world plan does know the big picture of the universe they strive to turn into their utopian society.

Having gone through an identity meltdown when I learned I had DID and again when I learned I was intentionally made DID, I now must process this new information. What does this mean to me. I know who I look like now. I never thought I looked like my father when people said I did. I saw the resemblance to my mother only as an adult during one of our last "family" gatherings.

I will never have DNA validation but my internal message is so strong there is no denying my genetic beginnings. I still don't believe all that is said about Illuminati bloodlines and prefer to call it royalty. I'm sure much misinformation is "out there" to make my memories seem entirely implausible. But my purpose in having this blog is to tell my truth.

Father of the Bride