A Memory for Monday…

Please use caution when reading my post if you are dealing with ptsd or did since reading any posts about my memories may be triggering.

Today I mention: psychic, bath, knife



After a session of being abused I was in the basement having an ice bath.  I absolutely hate cold water, I hate ice on the skin.  After a period of time, a woman came down into the basement, obviously there was a drug problem.  Either she was going through withdrawal or something, I’m not sure exactly.  She was so out of it she couldn’t focus.  I don’t think she could move her eyes.  She was tense and shaking.  The man who ran my “training” for a period of years told me to get out of the tub.  He told me to help the woman get undressed and into the tub.  He told me to get dressed.  I would not dare by this point to attempt to ask if I could get dressed or have a towel.  I would only dare wait for the command to follow.  I knew better by now than to open my mouth or even move anywhere unless it was commanded so.

The ice bath seemed to help the woman snap out of whatever state she was in.  She wasn’t completely back to normal, but at least wasn’t acting the way she did when she wandered down the stairs.  After her bath was over, the three of us went up to the main level, into a bedroom where there was a bed and a desk.  There was a chair on either side of the desk for this interrogation.  The woman and I were opposite each other.  The man was behind/next to me telling me what to say, while at times he just lead the questioning.  He was really intense.  The woman was a psychic. The man had her put her hands out with palms down and fingers spread on the table.  The man gave me a knife and showed me what to do with it.  He had me play chicken with the woman.  I was just a little kid.  He asked her questions about what happened and what she said to a particular person during a psychic reading.  He had me ask her the same questions while moving the knife between her fingers.  Things became increasingly intense as the woman struggled to either remember the truth because she had been on drugs – or she was struggling with the idea that she had to confess to him what she had done.  Either way, it finally came out but not before I missed and stabbed one of her fingers.

From what memory came back – please understand that as a kid under mind-control my brain was focusing on the knife moving, not necessarily the details of a social situation that did not concern me.  What was going on here was that this psychic woman was not supposed to be high or whatever when she was working, but she was.  She had also communicated with this man some information that came to her through her psychic gifts or whatever regarding a person and his impact in the local area.  This person in particular and this information would impact something big that my trainer (or handler I guess you could say) had a strong interest in not letting happen.  The woman had talked to the man previously about this premonition and they discussed how to handle it.  They came to some sort of agreement about what to tell this person if they ever were to come for a reading.  They had it all worked out so this person would not be lead to make the choices leading to the fruition of this premonition.  However, because the psychic woman had done a lot of drugs before this person happened to walk in for a reading, she did not follow the plan at all and said exactly everything she was not supposed to say.

Now that I am an adult and recovered this memory, I can see how their hierarchy was used to manipulate the psychic.  By having me, a child who was treated as the lowest of the low, be the one to put her in the tub, ask questions, and control the knife the man was putting this woman in a position of being lower than the low while at the same time continuing my training.

One more secret is no longer kept!


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