Tag Archives: validation

Still Quiet

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About nine years ago already was my first flashback.  It only consisted of two hands and arms of a boy wrestling with me to hold me down.  This flashback was triggered by my husband being affectionate with me.   I could not see anything other than two hands and forearms.  My eyes were open, but I could not see my husband.  I couldn’t see anything other than these two half arms pinning me down – or trying to.  I was moaning while my husband held me but I was reliving childhood, fighting a boy.  It took my husband a few times of asking “What’s going on?” while he was holding me before I could get a good grip on reality.

Our third child was only a baby at the time and we were living with my parents.  Needless to say life was stressful.  My initial reaction was to finally think I was actually abused at some point during childhood – but probably only one time and that’s why I had forgotten it.  Four years later I had my next flash back involving a satanic ritual where some man was wearing an animal head with horns.  Between my first and second flashback I absolutely POUNDED my brain for memories!  And, yeah, I did get quite a few memories, but what I recalled back then did not paint the picture which is before me presently.  The memories I retrieved were choppy and didn’t make sense.  They didn’t fit together.  In fact the truth was still being furiously protected.  I was more willing to believe a new lie, just to protect myself from the truth.

One good thing about the various ideas I had about my past was that even though I may not have been completely accurate to begin with – the exploration helped me to become capable of handling the truth.  Much of what I retrieved initially was actually correct, but some of it was not.  Now that I can see more of the whole picture – I am ok with having been wrong at times.

It is knowing that I am not perfect and can interpret things incorrectly at times that helped me to keep all of this crap to myself for so darn long!  From the very beginning my goal was to keep the commandments.  One in particular I have done my best to keep is to not bare false witness.  Knowing there was no substantial proof to bring forward allowing me to say, “See… See it now!  My uncle did this!!” all I could do was keep it inside.  I never went up to anybody accusing them of abuse.  But, you know what, I never had to.  Asking questions to try and figure out if any of this was worth pursuing was enough to break the family apart.

That was all I needed to move forward, at least within myself.  As long as I have no proof or witnesses to support my lonely word I can not go to my family.  This is just me, other people and families are in different positions.  My family is not in danger by my keeping this to myself.  But, the danger of divulging what I discovered is much much more severe.  Maybe that is just the programming though.  Either way most people in my family wouldn’t believe any of this and if anybody did it would cause so much strife.  I have told who I needed to tell what I needed to tell.

It is hard to keep this to myself – to be so anonymous.  So many times the intense compulsion to open up to my brothers or anybody else in my family nearly won out over sense.

So many times the burden of this trial made me cry out to just reprogram me – let me forget what I remember!!  But, I have hope and faith that one day I will be able to open up to my family.  At that point the burden, the cross may seem to be put down for a moment and transformed into a new burden.

The point is, patience has served very useful so far.  If I had told people years ago they would have only heard my immediate interpretation of these memories which really was a very narrow scope.  I understand now that there is SOOOO much more going on.  The most important understanding of the past didn’t come until after I was accepting of the few shocking memories that came back.  Looking back at the journey so far I would have stopped a long time ago had my husband not supported me in healing.  If one or two people even mentioned disbelief before I was strong enough psychologically to defend what I know now is true it would have made me crumble and give up.

So keep praying, put one foot in front of the other every day – and before you know it there is a lot of healing behind you.

—Dory

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.

butterfly21_flowers_moving

I’m Still Swimming…

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At this point in the beginning of my awakening, I had no real validation except for my mom telling me it was possible somebody had abused me and the single yet extremely short flashback containing nearly no information.  My mom has a twin sister – I will just refer to her as my aunt, and her husband will be the uncle I talk about in future posts.  If ever I do give names, they will be made up names.

Anyway, I had gone to my aunt for information.  You see, all of the babysitters my parents used were referred to them by my aunt and uncle.  I knew that my uncle knew them for a long time.  My aunt had heard of some scandal in the family of the elderly couple who babysat my brothers and I, although she claims she didn’t know what that was.  She said whatever it was had been enough for the other family friends to warn her against having her own kids watched by their family.  She would neither confirm nor deny any possibility of abuse or mistreatment.  She did however confirm the existence of the old man, previously I had been told he did not exist.  It seemed that whenever I searched for validation or some reason to keep pursuing my questions, I didn’t get it.  The problem is that I didn’t get anything at all to lead me to disprove any of the crazy memories or images either!

I had talked to my brothers.  Bro #3 doesn’t remember anything, although he has issues of his own.  Bro #2 informed me that we did not spend only 2 weeks at the old couples house – we spent 2 SUMMERS there!  Bro #1 said outright that he doesn’t remember what happened there – he knows he blocked it and has no intention of remembering.  So, this is like, evidence without having any evidence of sorts.  It is enough to drive me crazy.  Nobody could simply say – “you were never abused”  or  “nothing ever happened.”  I desperately wanted somebody to reinforce the lies I had believed my whole life.

My life felt more and more like Neo from The Matrix (1999).

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zQ1_IbFFbzA

That is the scene that expresses the beginning – my introduction into the life of DID/mind control.

It is not easy to accept that I have not been in control of my own life.  All it took was a simple phone call containing odd dissonant tones and code phrases to bring out the desired personality.  I only remember an introduction to the tones that were used.  I was told (which may be the truth) that every firehouse has a different series of tones they use in order to alert the firemen when a call came in who needed to go and what the call was about.  When I was a child, hearing the tones play over my uncles cb radio – well, I felt such peace and safety.  You see, my uncle was a fireman.  He is now the fire chief.  His firehouse is a family.  Since more memories surfaced, I know now he is a satanist.  He and the other families in the cult are firemen of course, but also policemen, doctors, lawyers, judges, scientists, and certainly government officials of various positions.  So, I am very paranoid.

I want to keep talking, but am getting dizzy.

There are so many things I kept from my teenage/college years.  All of it I see now has clues to the truth.  Take my obsession with doodling spirals.  I learned that is a pagan symbol.  Or the eight pointed star – also used in paganism.  However, it is also used in the government, and in Christianity.  Whatever the intent was for allowing me to “follow the star,” didn’t work because I thought of the 3 Magi/3 Wise Men/3 Kings of the Bible.  They were pagan astronomers who had learned of the star through generations of oral tradition and the science of their time.  They did not know who they were seeking, except that He was great – possibly God or a King.  They were pagans who sought God, and eventually converted.  Throughout my 20’s the Christmas Star became my own personal navigational symbol.  And, like some Christmas cards say,

“Wise Men Still Seek Him”

Nothing more than the thoughts and feelings of a woman who thinks too much and feels too much (August 1999)

Nothing more than the thoughts and feelings of a woman who thinks too much and feels too much (August 1999)

Whenever I feel triggered – I go back to thinking about God, and you know, I become safe again.  “The Lord is my refuge”