Tag Archives: Jesus

Jesus’ Agony

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Every so often I come to a point where I start to question everything.  I question these memories, or my Others and how separated are they or if they are real.  I test whether or not the life I remember is the life i lived.  I get to a point where I am like, Oh COME ON ALREADY!!!   Are You Serious??? Really???  Every once in a while it gets to be too much, because honestly I am currently living the life that fits with the past I remembered.  Usually this happens when I am faced with a major change of perspective on how I apply what I am learned so far to my life in a way that I can not hide from. It is then that I go back to what brought me here in the first place.

This path I am on started ten years ago with St. Padre Pio.

It has been Ten Years Already!  Wow!  Back then I was 75% sure that I had not experienced abuse.  The first day asking for St. Pio’s intercession to heal this mental chaos, he gave me one small flashback.  And that was it – the question’s I had throughout my life regarding whether or not anything abusive happened was in fact answered.  But, isn’t that interesting too?  I always questioned whether or not I was abused – as if even as a young person I knew what I could not consciously know.

This post is more of a continuation of two previous posts:

Setting the Stage for D.I.D.

Accepting the Worst

When I was probably 2 years old our family lived in an apartment.  Hanging on the dining room wall was a painting that my great-grandparents bought when they were first married.  It was a painting of Jesus in the garden of olives (I believe is called the garden of Gethsemane?)

As a very little girl I would look up at that painting.  It was a very dark painting, set in a dark wooden frame.  It was difficult to understand what the painting was about.  One day, my dad must have been sober for a moment and took interest in his daughter pondering this painting.  He stood next to me, and gave me the opportunity to ask him, “Who is that?”

He said it is Jesus.  It is a painting of His agony in the garden of olives.

I didn’t know who Jesus was or what agony meant, but couldn’t help staring at this painting of a man kneeling and praying with heartfelt expression on his face.  His apostles, sleeping in the distance.

[39] And going out, he went, according to his custom, to the mount of Olives. And his disciples also followed him. [40] And when he was come to the place, he said to them: Pray, lest ye enter into temptation.

[41] And he was withdrawn away from them a stone’ s cast; and kneeling down, he prayed, [42] Saying: Father, if thou wilt, remove this chalice from me: but yet not my will, but thine be done. [43] And there appeared to him an angel from heaven, strengthening him. And being in an agony, he prayed the longer. [44] And his sweat became as drops of blood, trickling down upon the ground. [45] And when he rose up from prayer, and was come to his disciples, he found them sleeping for sorrow.

[46] And he said to them: Why sleep you? arise, pray, lest you enter into temptation. [47] As he was yet speaking, behold a multitude; and he that was called Judas, one of the twelve, went before them, and drew near to Jesus, for to kiss him. [48] And Jesus said to him: Judas, dost thou betray the Son of man with a kiss? [49] And they that were about him, seeing what would follow, said to him: Lord, shall we strike with the sword? [50] And one of them struck the servant of the high priest, and cut off his right ear.

[51] But Jesus answering, said: Suffer ye thus far. And when he had touched his ear, he healed him.  (Luke 22:39-51)

For some reason, that painting connected to my heart.

Growing up learning the traditional catechism, we were taught that during Jesus’ agony Satan was there.  The devil showed Jesus all of our sins, all the horrible things that would still happen until the end of the world regardless if Jesus suffered on the cross or not.  And the devil showed these things to Jesus – ALL of the sins of mankind – all of this within an hour.

It makes sense why Jesus was sweating blood from every pore of His body!

I try to place myself in that position…

Jesus, during this agony, saw…

innocent babies being tortured,

children being raped,

children being scandalized in countless ways,

His own church, His own priests abusing others

His own followers allowing Satan to infect, betray, and deceive

Jesus saw how “anti-apostles” who are satanic priests would deceive others into allowing them into a catholic church, turn the unleavened bread into the body and blood of Jesus, only to then turn around and use His body and His blood in black masses – and still, nobody believes this happens.

That is not all, no, He also saw the suffering He was about to endure.

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Jesus saw and felt not only the victimization and perversion of innocence, but also the sins of those who committed these crimes.  Contemplating this in regards to my own life feels impossible because I know how hard it has been to remember and allow Christ to heal me.  Just one memory alone is too much, let alone my entire existence and lives of those who did in fact choose to abuse and torture me.

Jesus saw this all, before he died.  Not only my life and the lives of those who did this to me – but every one – ALL sins til the end of the world!

No wonder he sweat blood.

So, whenever this all seems like it is too much I unite myself with Jesus Christ’s Agony in the Garden.  Whenever this seems like it is too hard to believe when another memory comes up – I suffer through the memory anyway.  Jesus endured my memories, and He didn’t deserve to suffer through them.

Jesus took some of the suffering upon Himself, so that I wouldn’t have to suffer as much.

When it all is too weird for words, I say to myself this:

“Even if this isn’t true, I am going to suffer this anyway because chances are that somebody somewhere in the world is in fact going through this.  Chances are that somebody in the world is too weak to endure remembering their trauma, and I am remembering now for their sake.”

This is how I unite myself with Christ’s agony as best I can.

Then, I am usually reminded of all the examples that show me how this is all true and I did go through this.

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Jesus, I trust in You!

 

Sometimes, it feels like we will never get through this.  It feels like the suffering will never end.  The hard days become more common that the okay days.  But, I know that as long as I am able to cry out to God –

God will show His mercy and His love.

Bits and pieces on my mind about God

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After my last memory post, my husband (who does all the research on my situation) discovered one of the techniques used in mind control or severe manipulation as it relates to the victim’s personal view of God.  To be honest, none of the phrases I can come up with can really give an adequate description of how intense and psychologically torturous mind control really is.  To call it “mind-control” or manipulation, or brainwashing – does not do it justice.  The best thing to call it is Psychological Torture.  Back to the point, one of the focuses is to give the victim a view of God as being someone who can help you, but just chooses not to.  This God, who is supposed to love and save you, threw you into the hands of people who abuse you and refuses to protect you.  They turn God into a person who is one of the abusers.  They force you into a position of having to do something wrong and make you believe that God will not forgive you, twisting bible verses to reinforce their heretical teaching.  Another tool they use is getting somebody from their group and telling you that this person is Jesus.  I believe that is what lead me to stop the ritual I mentioned in the previous memory post.  Part of me was stopping Jesus from being killed.

I know that how the programmers and abusers worked on twisting my view of God was very painful, because as a child I remember before falling asleep at night I would pray and think about how my guardian angel was always there to protect me.  I kept praying to God to please send my parents to pick me up, let me go home.  I believed that my angel would help me, and I never gave up believing that fact.  My others though, they had a rougher time.  Through all the pain and internal conflict, I know God preserved me.  It is because of Him that I am alive today.  It is because of God that I am married to my husband – who just happens to be the absolute most perfect person for me to be married to. I have SO much to be thankful for!

There is so much more that I want to explain, but can’t make the connections and bring forward the information that applies to this subject.  I know the information is there – but access is limited.  What I do know and what I can share is this:  God’s mercy is infinite. The only thing that prevents God from forgiving anybody is the person’s unwillingness to say they are sorry and ask forgiveness!  I also learned that I am not above any sin – given the right circumstances and conditions, I can fall for any temptation.  That is a key to humility and is so necessary as a follower of Christ.  And you know, the more you lean on God to help you through the tough times, the closer you become to God.

My husband and I work together on healing with the use of imagery in the format of hypnosis.  I am unable to become unconscious and remain completely aware during these sessions together – but it still works out well.  My husband guides me downward to a deeper part of my brain the same way a person would during hypnosis.  He guides me to my castle.  (there happens to be a kind of mind control programming called castle programming)  I incorporated God into my castle because that made me feel safe.  In the beginning there was a simple white cross that my alters and I put our suffering on and offered up to God.  Then, after fighting off demons with the help of my guardian angel, I turned one of my reclaimed rooms into a chapel.  My relationship with Jesus was not formed so well, and so I went to Jesus’ mother – the Blessed Virgin Mary and asked for her help.  Eventually I brought a life-sized crucifix into the downstairs living room.  This way, upon entering my castle, I would kneel before the image of Christ and ask for His assistance during this therapy session with my husband.  Eventually, one of my alters converted.  I prayed for my full conversion, and Josie did, Emily is reluctant but has accepted Christ, and Nicky is one I am still working on.  When Josie accepted Jesus, I brought her downstairs where she knelt down before the crucifix and began crying at the feet of Jesus.  As she did this, the statue of Christ on the cross became real!  We had reached the place where God resides within us.  Since then, Jesus has been closer to me than ever before.

At this point, I have another chapel within my castle where my alters and I can go in prayer or during therapy to pray and talk to God.  Recently, Emily was having trouble understanding why God didn’t save her.  Jesus came to her, with his crown of thorns, and his skin torn from the scourging at the pillar, and he knelt down by little Emily, held her, and with more love than I could imagine He expressed how all His cuts are for her.  The thorns in His head, are for her.  Before I was ever born, He knew what would likely happen.  This upset him so much that he bled during His agony in the garden.  It is hard to grasp what this really means, but now Emily knows Jesus is really a loving merciful God.  The thing is, this is true for all of us – not just me, not just you – but every person on Earth!

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A Memory for Monday

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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 angels, demon, switching personalities, catholicism

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The broken heart in pieces

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In a sense, the division of my personality into separate parts is more like the broken pieces of my heart. Left to heal on their own, there has been no shortage of scar tissue. This scar tissue, so to speak, became more like walls that separated each part. Each broken piece of my heart became self sufficient on its own. Some parts had been able to communicate with each other. My piece of the heart, however, had no communication or knowledge of any other bits. Maybe my heart was smaller or less capable than the hearts of others, but it was my heart and I would make the best of it. Read the rest of this entry