3 Memories, Ch. 2

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Along with the memories which made some sense to me that I could actually place within some kind of sense of my own reality were other memories that made no sense and would not fit easily within the chronology of my life.  These memories fell into two categories:  Science or Mind Control, Rituals and Ritual Abuse.

***These may be triggering for other people with DID***

 

#1          This took place in the mid 1980’s.            I remember laying in the dark, strapped down to a cold table in a cold dark room.  Then I would see a man – not very tall, probably in his 60’s, medium length salt and pepper hair.  He wore glasses and a lab coat.  Leather straps prevented me from turning my head.  I could not move.  I remember him leaning in, staring at me like I was some rat he was experimenting on. (Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage, thank you Smashing Pumpkins)  There were strobe lights flashing, they just kept flashing – and the lights would change speed on occasion.  All I could see was the bright white flashes filling this makeshift lab.  Then the flashes would turn to red – that was my attempt to close my eyes and avoid the visual over-stimulation.   Eventually (this type of thing happened many times) I had started seeing things after the lights were used – actually, I saw demons.  That monster scarred me so thoroughly, I screamed so loud – that was when the doctor leaned in, when I was the most vulnerable and frightened, “you are not who you think you are, you do not live with your parents…”  He provided the framework to split my personality.  He, and my uncle, fully intended to give me a split personality.

#2          Under the other category, the first images to pop up consisted of men carrying torches while walking to a certain place.   It seemed pretty “Frankenstein” like.  As time went on, I have actually recovered more of the memories pertaining to ritual abuse, than the splitting of my personality.

It was very difficult to discern the truth.  Were these things coming from the devil just to torment me?  Was this coming from my own imagination as a way to explain certain difficulties I’ve had through life?  I had prayed and worked for so long, but it wasn’t enough.  I decided to talk to the parish priest.

He was honest and said he didn’t know what to say!  He asked my permission to go to his superior about our conversation, and I certainly gave him the permission.  Later on, he got back to me with a deliverance statement which his superior obtained from an exorcist.  This was not an exorcism, but a way to curb the effects of the devil and open the path for God’s help.  I don’t have the time right now, but will create a page with this statement of deliverance on it.  I made this deliverance every day and trusted as hard as possible – I prayed that God would help me to know the truth about my life.  God is Truth, right?  There can be only one truth, just like there can be only one truth about my life – and God knows it, I just need the courage and strength to accept the truth!

After a couple months came the next flashback.  This one, like my first one, was real – I was re-experiencing this memory.  Even though I was re-experiencing a memory, I still had a couple blank spots, but, there was a lot more information given this time!

#3          My uncle brought me outside.  He lived in an old house on about an acre of land.  There was a group of men standing outside waiting for us.  My uncle had a very serious look on his face.

This seemed to be some sort of initiation involving being covered with spiders, and rape by a person wearing an animal head.  I am sorry if that is too much for anyone reading…

When it was over we walked inside.  My aunt was inside the kitchen, wearing her robe.  Her hair was pulled back.  She was crying, asking what was going on.  My uncle put me to bed and said he was going to “take care of” my aunt.  I didn’t see her the next day.

As horrible as it is to finally remember these things, it also feels really good to know more and more pieces of the truth.

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