Alice in Wonderland Programming Part 2: “Crazy” Alice and Black Alice Programming

Trigger warning: this post contains information about programming that could be triggering to survivors of ritual abuse and mind control. 

Crazy Alice Programming

A part of the Alice in Wonderland (presenter) programming is the “Crazy Alice” programming, which is meant to warn the Alice controller (a presentation controller) to never allow memories to come up, or they will be labeled “insane” and extreme abuse will occur. This is often the root of insanity fears when a person first starts remembering their past; the presentation controllers know that if they remember, Crazy Alice is supposed to present.

 

In this setup, the child (now called “Alice” and dressed in the typical blue dress and white pinafore) is taken to a “mental institution” that looks like one from 400 years ago, where the “inmates” are chained, and who rant, rave and curse at her. The child is left there for days, with her only food being rancid water and rotten cabbage. The inmates (actually cult actors) hurl feces at her, verbally abuse her, and the custodians sexually abuse her while she is chained to the wall because of her “insanity” (remembering).

 

Because she is “sick”, and “mentally ill” Alice is taken regularly down to the basement for “treatment” which consists of electroshocks, drowning, and being held over a rat pit filled with hungry rats that are allowed to bite her feet and ankles. The child is told repeatedly that “remembering” or “telling” will have her labeled “crazy” and that she will be taken to the institution (or one similar) for “treatment.” This is part of developing the presenter amnesia and vows to never remember (or seek treatment).

 

During the hospital stay, a team of doctors in white coats walk through the ward and stay with Alice, and the head doctor (usually, a primary programmer) says “Alice is my favorite patient” and “I will do everything possible to help you get well.” Alice keeps a stuffed rabbit with her (“foo foo”) who at night seems to come alive and sexually abuses her (this is done with a hand puppet). When Alice reports the abuse the next day, the doctors look at her sadly, and insist that she is “sick” and “needs more treatment.”

 

There is a special room in the “hospital” for the religiously insane, with Bible studies and church meetings, where Alice is raped and abused by the “Christians” and “Jesus” in the hospital. After several weeks of this treatment, “Alice” is pronounced “cured” (e.g. this part is heavily traumatized and has learned to never disclose what is going on, and to promote presenter amnesia) and is allowed to leave.

 

This “hospital” is also part of the presentation re-programming. If the presentation amnesia begins to break down, and the individual remembers, the “doctors” (programmers) will come internally and take the parts that broke programming  to the “hospital” internally for treatment (reprogramming).

 

This is also linked to recontact programming as well. The presentation is often programmed that if there is too much programming breakdown or remembering, to believe they are “sick” and “need to go to the hospital right away.” This is meant to get the survivor to an “approved” hospital or treatment center where they can be accessed, and reprogrammed.

 

Black Alice Programming

 

In another version of Alice programming, Alice has a “dark side” that comes out and kills everyone around her in a killing spree. The terrified presenter wakes up to a room full of bloody bodies, and is told that if she ever remembers, the “evil” inside of her will “escape” and she will kill her loved ones. This is a particularly cruel form of amnesia programming.

 

Black Alice wears a black dress, black stockings and shoes, and a white pinafore (covered with blood stains). She lives in Nightmare Wonderland, a black and terrifying version of the white wonderland. In Nightmare Wonderland, the prime terrors are re-enacted time and time again, such as rats that chase the child, large stinging insects; black woods filled with horrible creatures, huge caterpillars that look like maggots able to sting, etc. The woods and other areas of this wonderland (which includes a large cemetery) are also filled with dead bodies and rotting corpses, and zombie-like creatures chase the child.

 

Black Alice has often taught to “love death” and insists that she loves killing, and death; she has often been forced to have sex with dead bodies, and cannibalizes them as well. This controller terrifies the white presentation, who fears that she will come out if they “lose control” (e.g. by trying to break programming, or remembering too much).

 

During her creation, Black Alice is heavily tortured and traumatized by everyone around her except the dead in the room; the dead bodies are her only “comfort”. She has a rabbit called “Edward” who hates all living things, teaches her how to kill to protect herself (rewarding her with sex) and later encourages her to “kill, kill, kill” to give him something to eat. Edward is Black Alice’s only friend, and protects her in a nightmare world.

 

Black Alice is also a part of the child’s assassin programming, since for simple jobs she can switch out and do a kill, and the white presentation will be completely amnesic.

 

The individual needs to realize that “Crazy Alice” is not crazy, but traumatized. She and the others in the “hospital” have been programmed with scripts, and the traumas need to be recognized, worked through, and resolved. This is true for Black Alice as well: she is not “evil” but a very traumatized, very young child who was frightened and wanted protection. These are very difficult memories to face, and the presentation will often experience a lot of anxiety working with these parts due to the fact that these are their own controllers.

 

The traumatized parts can heal, and will be relieved to talk with someone who is safe. They may fear being hospitalized, or alternatively, may insist that they go to a hospital for “treatments”. If possible, it is best that the individual has a safe person stay with them until this programming is worked through, and they realize the traumas and fears that drive it.

 

As with any other program, there will often be threats to both the individual, or to loved ones, if this program breaks (the individual’s loved ones will have to go through the “treatments” or torture if Alice refuses, etc.). Bringing the trauma memories to conscious remembrance, and refusing to act on the programming, will often help it break, as the individual processes the emotions.

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Dealing with Harassment: Part 1

One concern that survivors who attempt to leave cult groups mention is the issue of harassment. After all, groups that have invested time, money and thousands of hours of effort into controlling the mind and developing “useful” skills in an individual do not want to lose that person for several reasons:

  • They need that person’s skills
  • Pride: it makes them look bad if someone leaves
  • Fear that others will get the same idea.

Harassment is real, and it can be quite intensive, based upon the group the person left, their money and resources, the individual’s position within the group, and how much personal investment in “getting the person back” the group’s leaders have.

In these blogs, I will describe some of my personal experiences with harassment: these are autobiographical and part of my history. You will learn about both the good things I did, and some of the incredibly stupid things I did, in response to cult harrassment. Hopefully, by sharing my experiences, it will help encourage others that they are not alone; and help people realize there are different options than they were taught by the groups for dealing with harassment.

Some of the experiences I describe I went through for several reasons:

-I was top leadership (in the “top 4”) for an international occultic group when I left, and their head trainer; which made leaving unacceptable to the top leadership at that time – I was considered a security risk

-my brothers, sisters and children (who by this time were in the early 20’s) were all at the time I describe part of the leadership council for this group, and several had a vested interest in “bringing me back” for punishment

-I have a tendency to speak my mind, and to make top leadership angry with me (by doing things such as writing articles or giving interviews)

Arkansas Nightmare

Eight years ago, I bought 11 acres of land up in northern Arkansas.  I had been free of the cult for two years; and in the early fall my best friend and I decided to go and homestead on the beautiful, wooded land with a pond fed by a stream.  There was a small shack on the land, and we built a cement floor, installed a wood stove, and proceeded to clear the brambles, cut wood for the winter, and work on improving the property.  Things went well, until in the middle of winter, we found evidence in the snow that others were visiting our property: footprints that came in and out over several fences. We also saw men in military uniforms walking the perimeter of our property; when we walked towards them to ask what they were doing, they left rapidly.

One night, we heard splashing in the stream that ran past our small residence; upon going out the next morning, we saw bootprints in the mud; someone had waded in the stream until they were slightly downhill from our cabin;  the footprints then led to just outside our cabin.  The bootprints were small, nearly child-sized; next to them were adult prints.  The next night, we sat up, and heard activity outside our cabin. I took my pistol out (I had been practicing my marksmanship after breaking presentation programming to be afraid of guns), and my friend and I shot into the bushes where we had heard the noise coming from, telling the intruders to “Leave, now, in Jesus’s name!” There was silence.

The next day, the noise began: a low-pitched rumble that seemed to go through the ground, and that caused waves of nausea; and a higher pitched, incessant noise that was in the same range as “ringing in the ears” but much louder. This noise caused almost immediate pain.

Each day, the noise continued, and my friend and I became seriously ill, with joint pain, fatigue and horrendous pain throughout our bodies. Finally, I packed a bag, jumped in our truck, and told my friend we needed to get off the land. We stayed in a motel that night. The noise stopped entirely, and while we both felt “buzzy” for the next few hours, we immediately both felt better.

My friend and I both deduced that we were being hit with a combination of both low frequency and high frequency waves. My friend went online, looked up the symptoms of being exposed, and we both had every single one.  We decided to leave our land, since the pain had increased the past day to an alarming amount. The next day, we went onto the land, packed our bags as quickly as we could. Within minutes of our going onto the land, the high pitched noise started, much louder than before, and we were literally staggering and both almost passed out. We grabbed what we could, jumped into our truck, and ran, leaving our land abandoned and feeling grateful we hadn’t died from the intense pain caused by the electronic tech waves.

On the Run through Four States

Because it was winter, we left in the middle of a huge snowstorm.  This ended up being a blessing, because it would slow down those looking for us.  I cannot describe the feelings of being pursued, and trying to get away; it is NOT romantic or anything like movie depictions. We were both tired, hurting and afraid. We both prayed a LOT.

We found a motel to stay in (that didn’t require ID), painted our truck a different color, and spent two days resting, doing our laundry in the tub and sleeping lot more than normal; we were both recovering from the tech wave effects, and our bodies were attempting to recover.

I was angry at being chased off my land, which I had loved. I was upset that this was happening. And I had no idea what we would do. My friend and I went to a neighboring state. My friend did not have a legal ID (this friend had stayed hidden for many years, and had successfully left an intelligence agency located overseas), but helped with the driving. After my friend drove for four hours, we were in another state, and I felt an urgency to take over the wheel. “I’m fine” my friend said, “I can keep driving”. But I insisted. We pulled over, I took the wheel, and ten miles down the road, we came to a police blockade; they were checking the IDs of all drivers. If my friend had been driving, we would have been stopped, and possibly risked a fine or even jail.

I believe the LORD prompted me to drive before reaching this point.

My friend and I were praying continuously. We stayed at a motel and the next morning, continued driving. I didn’t feel comfortable with the area, neither did my friend, so we continued driving two more days until we were in yet another state.

Finally, we headed to a state to the south. We found a cheap motel (the kind that charges hourly rates) and checked in without ID, since we didn’t want to be found.  There were loud parties, and it seemed obvious that quite a bit of drug dealing was going on in the rooms around us. We laid low, prayed, and started looking for a job.

God Comes Through

After searching for two weeks, my friend and I saw an ad in a local paper. We answered, interviewed, and were hired to work on a horse farm. I loved the idea; I had raised horses myself for several years, loved them, and best of all, a smaller camper was included to live in, next to the barn.

We stayed and worked on the farm for over nine months. During this time, we drove the owner’s truck, and never used our ID. It was difficult for my pride; our employer knew that we didn’t use ID, and from the looks he, his wife, and his uncle and the uncle’s wife next door gave us, I knew they thought we were criminals on the run. Obviously, the idea of getting cheap labor ($100 a week in pay) overrode the owner’s scruples regarding the past of those he hired.

I learned how to feed the horses (there were seven), clean stalls like a pro (my own horses had lived in a field with a lean to; this was luxury horse housing); and loved exercising the mares.  I had one favorite with a bouncy gait and a temperament to match, and also helped break a young gelding.

Meanwhile, I was developing my talents as an artist (after all, cleaning barns and taking care of horses didn’t take all day, and I was bored; in my previous life before running, I had worked 80-hour weeks).  I started painting oils, and over time, participated in several art shows and held a one-person show at a luxury restaurant in the “big city” a half hour away. Living under an assumed name, I was glad for the peaceful life;  there was no harassment from the cult, and it was a wonderful time.

After nine months, I went to visit a local upscale furniture store in a nearby city that the farm owner’s wife suggested I go, to market my paintings at. My friend was with me.  The store owner was extremely friendly; visited my art site online, and seemed interested in selling my oils. My friend and I then went to get an ice cream; but suddenly, I felt uneasy. “I think I knew the store owner” I told my friend. “I don’t have a good feeling about this; we need to get to the truck and go.”  My friend was unsure. “Are you sure? Don’t you think you are being a little paranoid about this?” my friend said.  We walked back to our truck, and saw the store owner outside with a pen and paper, writing down the license number of the truck (it was the farm owner’s, not mine, and registered to him). As soon as he saw us, the store owner scurried back inside. “Oh, sh-t!” I said. My friend and I went to our truck and left.

Once Again, It Starts

Over the next two weeks, there were a lot of new “visitors” to the horse ranch; individuals interested in looking at the horses (one was for sale), in buying hay, etc. One couple held a picnic in the field outside our camper and asked to come inside to use our bathroom. I refused, not wanting to give them a chance to view the inside of our place, and suggested they go to the main house, which had three bathrooms.

The husband of the couple took a camera out, and started taking photos of the camper, of my friend, and I (I turned away). I asked him to stop; he insisted his hobby was photography and that he “couldn’t resist” taking pictures wherever he went.

My friend and I prayed; we realized our place was being scoped out, and didn’t know what to do. That night, the horses in the barn became restless, and my favorite mare whinnied, at 1 am. I went out to check; as soon as I turned out the outside light, I saw a figure dart away from the barn, leap over the fence, and run into the nearby woods. I told my friend, and told my friend we needed to make plans to leave right away. My friend agreed; my friend wanted to give our employer notice for two weeks.

When we went into the barn, we saw evidence that the intruder had entered the stall of the mare that had whinnied (fortunately, she hated strangers, and gave the alert); the water tray in the stall was bent from the intruder stepping on it; from that point, he had a perfect view of our home. My friend and I were wondering what he was doing in the barn.

Two days later, my friend and I felt a low, deep vibration that was all too familiar; the feel of ELF waves. This was followed by bursts of very high-pitched  noise (sounding like a dog whistle in frequency) that could barely be heard. My friend and I started experiencing joint swelling and pain; were unable to sleep, and began feeling the nausea and pain. I was terrified; I didn’t want to go through Arkansas all over again. Two days later, we packed our truck, and left in the early evening, leaving before the two weeks was over.  My friend and I were exhausted, nauseated, feeling “buzzy” and experiencing joint pain all over.  We drove our truck to a nearby city, and found a cheap motel to stay in.

Chased by Helicopters

We slept for five hours; then at 2 am, we heard a door slam next door to our room. Within a few minutes, we began hearing odd noises: high-pitched noises; and a phone ringing in odd patterns. “We have to leave, they’ve found us” I said to my friend, who agreed.

We decided to check out, even though it was only 3:30 am. As we entered the lobby, we saw the door to the room next to ours open; a woman and man came out, and stood in line next to us. “We’re checking out, too” the woman said to me. They had stayed less than two hours in their room.

My friend and I got coffee and donuts, got into our (ancient) truck and headed out. A few hours later, it was daylight. As I was driving, my friend exclaimed, “Oh, crap!” My friend then stated, “there are two helicopters right above us, following us.” I couldn’t believe this. I pulled over, looked up, and there they were; two black helicopters hovering in the sky at a fair distance above.

“Helicopters?!?!!” I yelled. “How the h-ll are we supposed to escape them?” We got in the truck, and I was driving, tears streaming down my face (I was not faith-fulled at all at this point, as you might have gathered). I was yelling at God instead. “God, what do we do? There’s no way out!! Why are you allowing this??” I was terrified. I knew they would hunt us down, get us, and there was nothing we could do.  My friend and I stopped at a rest stop next to a park, decided to walk down to the riverside and pray. As we did so, a couple, one that was all too familiar, came walking nearby. “Imagine seeing you again!” said the woman from the motel, who was wearing dark sunglasses.  “We must be going the same way.” She gave a smile that looked more like a smirk. I couldn’t punch her, or I would be arrested for battery; but I hated the insolent smile and jaunty wave she gave as my friend and I turned around and went to our truck. We realized that she and her companion believed they “had” us for sure, and I wasn’t so sure they weren’t right.

As we got into the truck and continued driving, my friend and I were praying non-stop. “God, HELP us! What do we do?” My friend then said “I have an idea. It might not work, but it’s worth a try.” My friend then said, “the next time you see a power station, pull up and behind it. The electrical frequency should block the copters from using their tracking technology.”  An hour later, we came to one; I did what my friend said, and parked. We waited.  We looked above, and to our amazement, no helicopters. Nothing.

“I know of a better place to hide” my friend said, who had lived in the area several years before. We found a large power station on a river, with woods nearby. We parked our truck in the woods, and took out some enamel spray paint we had bought two years before, and painted the truck in camo colors. The homemade job was not pretty; but our truck certainly looked very different. Meanwhile, I slept on a blanket from the back of the truck, beneath the trees. From time to time, I heard the chop-chop-chop of helicopters far above, and would start awake, terrified. “Go back to sleep,” my friend said. “God is going to protect us.” “I wish I could be as sure as you are,” I said. Faith was not my strong suit at this point. I fell back into an uneasy sleep, then when it was dark, we drove our truck (that unfortunately did not have working headlights) for several hours, until we were out of the state. It was early fall, and we both had no idea of where to go.

“I know of a place a few hours from here” my friend said, who had lived in this state for two years. We finally came to a secluded lake near a state park. We set up camp, and exhausted, slept most of the next day. We ended up camping there for two weeks, and it was a wonderful time of rest and recovery from the terrible pursuit. I felt grateful to be alive, and to God, who had saved my friend and I. I believed at the time that God protected my friend, who had much more faith than I. It wasn’t until years later that I realized that He was also protecting me, in spite of my small faith.

Do Miracles Still Happen?

After camping out, my friend and I chose to stay in a very cheap hotel for a few days (the running water and electricity were wonderful luxuries after roughing it). But we were running out of money. Down to our last $100, we drove south across the state line to a small town, and got a local paper.  I found a place advertising a room for $100 a month; we answered the ad, put our last bit of money down, and rented a small camper for the next four weeks. It was damp, musty and scary; but at least we could rest for a bit.

The next morning, my friend and I realized that we needed to find jobs quickly, since we were completely out of funds.  I was terrified; after being on the run for the past few weeks, and now penniless, I was also depressed about our situation. My friend decided to apply at a local meat processing plant, since my friend had worked as a butcher in the past, and had experience. “How can you apply for a job without ID?” I asked angrily. NO ONE will hire someone without ID in this day and age; it just doesn’t happen.” (my friend did not have a legal ID, so this was a legitimate question). My friend replied “God will take care of me. He will provide the job if I’m meant to have it.”

I snorted in disbelief, and told my friend, “If God gives you a job without needing identification, then I will believe in miracles.”  I had thrown the gauntlet down. I had faith for church services; I was a Christian; I believed that God loved His children. But seriously – a job without ID? Even God couldn’t overcome this obstacle, in my mind.

My friend went inside. A half hour later, my friend came back smiling. “They hired me; and they would like to talk to you; they would like to hire you, too, to wrap meat, since they need extra staff right now.” My mouth dropped open.  I literally couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

Neither my friend or I would need ID; we both had jobs; and the company paid us in cash at the end of the first day, so we could buy groceries.  I realized then that God does do miracles; He had heard my challenge, and chose to answer it.

If what you need is a miracle, God can provide it.

 

Alice in Wonderland Programming: Part 1: White Alice Programming

Trigger warning: The material in this article could be very triggering for survivors of ritual abuse or mind control as it contains graphic descriptions of programming; it is best to check with your therapist before reading material such as this. 

 

It is a common misconception that “hosts” or “presenters” have been protected, or have undergone less programming or trauma than other systems. On the contrary, the presentation is often one of the most extensively programmed systems in the survivor of international occultic programming. It can be some of the most difficult programming to dismantle since basically, this involves looking at their own programming.

 

In most international occultic groups, the child spends the first three years fulltime at a cult facility, being continuously programmed. At age three, the child will also be placed within several host families around the world. The child may grow up with anywhere from two to seven families in different countries, and will typically spend some time each year with each of these families building a “life story”. School photos are taken, and a cover identity created in the countries which they anticipate the child will be working for them as they grow older into adulthood. The families will be given photos of the child (or a look-alike) in infancy for photo albums. These host families will have programming to prevent the child and the host parents from bonding with each other, since the cult wants the child to always maintain their primary bond with the primary programmers. The true host and core will always only be allowed to bond with these programmers.

 

Because maintaining the amnesia between presentations, and the prevention of remembering the cult life, is such an important cult goal, there will be several programs used to keep the amnesia in place. One of the major ones is “Alice in Wonderland” which will be described here as it is used by the Jesuits. Many other international groups also use this programming, or some form of it.

 

White Alice, Black Alice and Crazy Alice Programming

 

There are often three versions of the Alice programming installed, and each will be a backup for the other, in case one fails. Each will be described separately below. “White Alice” programming is designed to ensure the “host” parts does not remember any cult activity and believe that her “ordinary memories” of life are the whole picture. “Crazy Alice” programming is designed to make the “host” parts feel like they are going crazy, be afraid of going crazy and to return to the cult for “treatment” if they start remembering what they are not supposed to. “Black Alice” programming is designed to make the “host” parts afraid that they will hurt the people around them if they remember what they were told by the cult to not remember. I will share about “Crazy Alice” and “Black Alice” programming in future articles.

 

If is common for members of occultic international groups to have at least one presentation that goes by the name “Alice”. This is for a specific reason: this is a trigger for Wonderland programming. The programming starts in the womb (prenatally), with the various Wonderland creatures talking to the birth mother and fetus, and with specific traumas that create the main characters. It continues during infancy. For instance, the infant will be dressed in a “Dormouse” costume, and taught to drink tea that makes him/her sleepy on command, or as a Cheshire Cat, with an outside actor modeling the role of this part.

 

The initial programming is continued and reinforced over the next few years in the programming studios,that have props and virtual reality films, as well as costumes and actors, until all parts for all three versions of the Alice programming understand and reliably perform their roles.

 

By age three, the child will be taken to a large estate in France (or, other locations, depending on the group) for the full re-enactment of Alice in Wonderland programming. This is an elaborate setup, and occurs over the period of a week. The child enters through rooms that reinforce previous training (“control the children”: is recorded and replayed, with pictures of dead children displayed on the walls of the room; mirrors, “remember the flowers” and other triggers). The child then enters a “backward world” where everything is backwards (much like the third dimension; this prepares the child for this travel). White Alice (representing the presentation main controller who is heavily demonized) is dressed in the blue dress and white pinafore, with blond hair and blue eyes, and guides the child (who is dressed in the same way) through backwards houses, where people walk and talk backwards (a common cause of childhood dyslexia is the confusion this creates).

 

The child is then taken to a setup street where things are not backwards, but “crooked” or off slightly, which is even more disorienting. The child must walk with the Cheshire Cat (who represents a demonic guide) leading them through houses where things are insanely wrong, where people talk nonsense, and the floors and roofs may be upside down, to teach the child not to trust reality.

 

The White Rabbit

The Cheshire Cat then brings the child at last to a place where they see the white rabbit (the primary trainer or bond dressed in a costume), and they follow him/her “down the hole” (representing amnesia) to a room where the presentation stays behind, watching a movie (screen memories which account for the lapse of time). Alice agrees to always follow the white rabbit, to do what he/she tells her, on pain of her/his death; because she loves this individual, she makes the promise. The white rabbit is the primary love bond in this program, and controls Alice.

 

The Caterpillar

 

After performing a sacrifice and making agreement to always forget, and only remember what they saw on the screen (videos of presentation normal memories), the child then enters a garden with animated/demonic flowers that at first talk kindly to the child, but later turn on the child and attack them. Wasps come and sting the child, and the large caterpillar (the at first kindly guardian of the garden, played by another primary bond) tells the child what to do, and how to escape. The caterpillar then blows smoke over the child, which induces amnesia, and tells her to “always remember to forget” or the primary bond will be killed. The child (playing the Alice role) agrees, and takes a bite of the mushroom offered, which represents this agreement to only remember what she is told to remember.

 

Jabberwocky

 

The child then enters a huge maze created from hedges. Soon, the child is pursued  by the “Jabberwocky” (a demonic presence and strong presentation persecutor/punisher), and must rely upon their theta skills to run and escape, and even leave the body and fly away. The white rabbit and the Cheshire Cat lead the child to safety, but at times will try to “trick” the child until the child learns to rely on themselves instead of these capricious demonic “helpers.”

The jabberwocky pursues the Alice characters, and punishes them if they are “disobedient” (going off the path to investigate interesting things put to the side as tests), or if Alice ever tries to leave Wonderland. Because the presentation parts live in Wonderland, they are told to never leave, and at intervals throughout the program, they do sacrifices at altars installed at various points in Wonderland to keep the agreement going. The Jabberwocky and others are guardians of Wonderland that keep the presenters inside.

 

The Croquet Game

 

As the child goes deeper into Wonderland, they sleep frightened outdoors, running from the Jabberwocky if it comes near. As the child attempt to go through the maze, they will run across the queen of hearts (a primary double bind, often a twin sister) and her court playing croquet (with the severed heads of human children used as the balls). Hearts is the royal, or controlling, suit in the white Alice program; while spades is the ruling suit in the Black Alice (killer) program that will be addressed in another article. The queen becomes very interested in using the child’s head (the child is constantly called “Alice” throughout the setup, to represent the presentations, since Alice in Wonderland is ultimately presentation programming to remain amnesic and rely on demonic help to do so). Alice is very frightened, and this trauma is used to reinforce her obedience and amnesia.

 

Valley of Shadow of Death

 

The demonic Cheshire cat helps to “rescue” the child, leading her away through a hole in the hedge. Alice then follows the cat, and goes through the “valley of the shadow of death.” The valley goes into a deep forest, is quite dark and frightening, and the child by now is hungry, frightened, and hearing terrible noises.  In the middle of the woods is a cottage; it is now nighttime, and the weary child knocks at the door, to be greeted by a kindly woman. The child is fed, sleeps, and is warned to avoid the Jabberwocky, which seeks to kill the child.

 

During the night, the kindly woman gets up. The child is awake, vomiting from the effects of a mild poison they were given in the food. The woman calls in her familiars (wolves) and tries to kill the child, who cries out for help to the “Cheshire Cat” to rescue her. A mage (spiritual person) also comes and helps rescue the child, who continues the journey, meeting other characters.

 

Palace of Hearts

 

Finally, the child ends up at the palace of the Queen of Hearts, who demands a sacrifice (the child was already told that the last child to complete the Alice scenarios will be her sacrifice). The children who live watch the final child come in; this child was “too slow” and is sacrificed in a ritual. This reminds the children to never be slow or tardy when coming to a “party” (ritual) or event. The “parties” in the Alice in Wonderland books are always referring to rituals.

The King and Queen of Hearts are individuals the child loves very much and has been bonded to. They often represent a twin or beloved brother and sister; or beloved cult parents. The love bond is represented by the heart, with the understanding by the child that if he or she ever remembers, and the amnesia breaks, these individuals will be killed. During one installation of the programming, the child is invited to break the Wonderland programming, and she or he sees a mock killing of their King or Queen of hearts.

 

The Tea Party

 

The tea party is an important component of the amnesia programming. Internally, the presenters and other characters are always at a continuous tea party to reinforce the amnesia programming. The script often goes as follows:

 

The tea party is presided over by Alice’s mother (a cult mother; the mother is called Mnemosyn, or the demon over amnesia by the Jesuits). This part becomes a strong amnesia controller. As the tea party progresses, to the child’s horror, one by one, the people at the party (who are doubles of people they love deeply; including their presentation mother, father, sisters, brothers, and loved ones in the cult) are killed in horrendously gruesome ways.

 

The horrified Alice is reminded by Mnemosyn that “everything is fine” and is told to “let me take care of everything” and asks Alice to give her the memories.  If Alice agrees, Mnemosyn then “takes away” the memories of the murders and sacrifices, and the dead characters are removed one by one; and replaced with living ones. Finally, there are no bodies left, and Mnemosyn assures Alice that “nothing bad ever happened.”

 

The various characters at the tea party have control over the presentation amnesia in different ways.

 

Dormouse: The Dormouse is a small child/toddler who constantly falls asleep (presentation sleep programming, to fall asleep on cue), and believes that “nobody loves me, everybody hates me” (a rejection program). Dormouse believes she/he can only be happy if the child falls asleep on cue, when the child then experiences “happy” dreams.

 

Mad Hatter: The Mad Hatter will contain numerous scripts to reinforce amnesia and dissociation, including anti-healing scripts, scripts that the individual can “never get away” from the group, and the belief that the universe is “crazy” and without meaning, and will often punish the others sporadically. His role is to make the presentation feel nervous and anxious if they start remembering things, and to punish.

 

The White Rabbit: the Rabbit asks Mnemosyn for tea, and to serve it to the parts at the party, which is a cue for amnesia; as long as the characters are drinking tea (which contains a drug that brings bliss and forgetfulness). He works in tandem with Mnemosyn to keep the amnesia party going on, with the reinforcement of agreements to never remember by the presentation controllers at the table.

 

The Teapot: In the physical setup, there are two teapots; one is where the Dormouse sleeps, and the other is continuously pouring tea out to continue the amnesia (the two are the same in the VR version). At times, the tea contains the blood from various rituals and sacrifices conducted and performed by the presentations to seal the amnesia program.

 

March Hare: this is the representation of insanity programming, with the threat that if the amnesia breaks and the “host” remembers, they will become “mad as a March Hare”. The hare does terrible things to the other characters, acting insane, throughout the party.

 

The Jabberwocky often visits at intervals and comes to the edge of the table, and is thrown bits of food (including sacrificial body parts) to keep him happy; he then goes away. Mnemosyn, Alice and the White Rabbit take turns feeding the Jabberwocky.

 

These are some of the characters at the tea party; others also come and join in.

 

Working with the Parts

 

When working with these parts, it is important to realize that these are the individual’s presentation controllers. Breaking the program will often create great anxiety in the presentation, because the individual is “breaking the rules” and fears retaliation both for themselves and their loved ones.

 

The greatest fear is that the individual will “go insane”, which is triggered by the Crazy Alice program (a backup if the main Alice program starts to fail; this will be discussed in another blog). It can help greatly for the individual to realize that these feelings are normal, and that they will not “go crazy” or “become homicidal” (due to the Black Alice program, which will also be discussed in another blog). They may also fear their own murder (in one tea party script, a double of the individual is killed at the table for remembering to install the implicit fear).

 

It can help if the individual understands that they really can break this program and heal; that the characters do not have to keep continuing doing their old roles, and they can break out of Wonderland. Wonderland is controlled by spirits of delusion, denial and amnesia, and removing the spiritual (which will drive the program) while helping the human parts heal from their traumas is important. Kronos, or the timekeeper, will sit over the Alice white system, covering for any lapses or lost time (this is installed with a huge clock, with an infant sitting on each hour; the time hand slices the infants unless Alice can make time go faster, slow down, or “skip” the infant). Kronos oversees this sense of the elapsing of time, in tandem with the other characters.

 

It is important to get to know each of the characters in the program, and listen to them. They will have reasons for doing the jobs they are doing, and these are often based on trauma, including very early (infant or prenatal) trauma that has been reinforced and layered upon over the years.

 

Hearing their traumas, comforting them, and providing validation and relationship will help these parts to decide to leave their old “jobs” inside. Once they do, the whole system will benefit greatly. It takes time and safe relationships to heal this type of programming, and for parts to make the decision to give up their amnesia and agreements to forget. These agreements are based upon deep love for individuals they were bonded with, and these bonds must also be addressed in order to give up these agreements.

 

(note: part two will cover Crazy Alice and Black Alice programming).  

 

 

Growing Up International Part Two: The First Three Years

Note: this article contains graphic descriptions of trauma and programming setups under Mengele

At the moment I was born, and took my first breath, my birth mother was killed by being pulled apart as I came out of the birth canal. This trauma was designed to create a guilt that the programmers would build upon the rest of my life: the belief that by living, I “killed” my birth mother.  The guilt would be used to drive me to perform ceaselessly over the years in an unconscious attempt to justify being alive.

A ritual was done immediately, in which one of the people I had bonded with in the womb (my primary trainer – a father I loved) began to suffocate me, asking me if I would accept a demon present behind him; if I did, he would let me live. I agreed, and was allowed to breathe.

I was given to a woman to nurse, one of several nannies at the cult facility I was raised in who would nurse me, rock me, and sing me songs about the group I was in, the heroes in the group who performed great deeds, and songs of praise to Satan.

My genetic mother and father were also present, and participated in a ritual that dedicated me to Satan.

Afterwards, I was taken to the newborn nursery where other infants in my group (we were raised in groups of 12) were in their cribs. Each infant in a group was born within a day or two of each other. My birth date was January 5, an important date to the group I was born to: Epiphany. I was considered one of the “gifts of the magi” to the group, and many other infants were born on this date as well.

Spiritual Programming

From my first breath, the programming was non-stop for the first three years.  The programming involved numerous setups in which trainers dressed as various “deities” (“celestial beings”) appeared by my crib, clothed in white or silver robes, and glowing with a soft light, as their kind voices taught me to love them – and to identify with them.

Others trainers dressed as “demons” and showed the splits created just before their appearance how to act and sound like a demon, with guttural growls, snarls, etc. These splits learned as toddlers to enjoy eating raw flesh, the only food they were allowed.

The highest (core) systems were bonded to trainers who dressed as ascended beings. Their eyes were covered with crystals to prevent me as an infant from seeing human eyes, since these parts were taught to hate and fear mortals through setups that involved “humans” or “mortals” raping and torturing them, until the “ascended beings” rescued and comforted them.  I bonded completely to these creatures that appeared in various forms: a young form (appearing like a small dinosaur), a huge form (resembling Jabba the Hut or a similar grotesque appearance) and a beautiful form, looking much like a beautiful human but with unhuman eyes.

My love for these creatures would be tested time and again over the years. These parts felt that only these “celestial” creatures could love them, and they all held one feeling in common: they utterly despised mortals and the human race, who had tortured them in the womb, and were committed to the destruction of the human race (my fetal rage was held by them).

Celestial Paradise and “Hell” programming

As a baby, I was placed in a special baby carrier designed as a chariot in the programming labs. This chariot slowly rose upwards on a clear cable to an upper level of the lab staged to look like celestial paradise. In this “paradise” beings dressed in silvery white robes greeted me, held me, comforted me and gave me sweet drinks and cake.  Harp music played, and a celestial “choir” sang songs of the joy of ascending. I realize that this sounds more like a Hollywood studio than a programming lab, but a young infant is very susceptible to believing these setups, since they have limited life experience to balance it against. As an infant, I truly believed I was “ascending to the heavenly realms” and loved the experience – and the beings who lovingly greeted me there.

As an infant, I was also taken at other times to “hell”, which was a programming studio at a lower level. Trainers dressed as Abbadon and Apollyon came to my crib, grabbed me, and told the young infant me that I was going to be “punished for my sins” of “disobedience.” It was a terrifying experience as they took me down a long, dark tunnel to a place lit with flames, with demonic creatures (young trainees in costume) dancing around poles where victims were tied and being tortured.  As I descended into this place of horror and fear, I heard the “demons” discussing how young and tender I looked, as they drew nearer and tried to cut some flesh off with a knife, or spear me with a fork. I screamed in terror, and then “Satan” appeared and “rescued” me in this setup (in others, various people, such as the trainers I was bonded to, or a messiah figure were the ones who rescued). “Satan” scooped me up and took me away, telling me that as long as I obeyed him, I would be safe and he would protect me.

By the time I was three years old, I was utterly and completely committed to the belief that those who obey “ascend” and those who disobey cult directives and orders “descend.” The proselytizing that began in the womb, and reinforced heavily, had taken hold. I had internalized the creatures ranging from angels, to demons, to celestial beings, to dragons, and others inside, and had created an internal “heaven” and “hell” to hold them in. Punishment for questioning the group’s orders included the inside parts being dragged into the internal hell by internal representations of Abbadon and Apollyon, and rewards for instant obedience and good performance (such as killing on command, doing sacrifices well, etc.) included being allowed to visit “paradise” and communicate with the beings there.

I was considered successfully spiritually programmed by the trainers who installed these setups and beliefs.  It would not be until years later, when I became a Christian, that I learned to my great surprise that the Bible never mentions a hell populated by “demons” who are overseen by “Satan” with the power to “torture” individuals; instead, the concept of Sheol is quite different, and the gehenna of final judgment is very different from the cult setups I experienced.

 

Early Loyalty and Anti-Christian Programming

Loyalty was considered one of the greatest imperatives of the Order, and extensive time and thought was put into the programming for loyalty.  Men and women dressed in shabby clothes would come into the nurseries where the babies were, shouting “we are traitors and are here to get you.” They would hit, rape and abuse us; all the babies would be screaming, until one of the Fathers would come in and “rescue” us from these terrible “traitors”.  Numerous setups of this type were done, until the mere mention of the word ‘traitor’ would make our infant hackles rise.

A man dressed as “Jesus” would also walk into the infant nursery at times, abusing the infants and causing intense dislike and pain. Again, the infants were “rescued” by one of the Fathers, who “chased” him away.

Presentation and Amnesia Programming

Because the Jesuits are international, they create presentations to be hosted in various presentations in the infants.  Nine presentations were created for the infants in the group I was in: a presentation for America, another for the UK, another for France, another for Germany, one for Italy, one for Japan (where the Jesuits have a large interest and alliances with the clans that operate there), one for Russia, one for Amsterdam and one for Israel. The latter was considered one of the most important, since the Jesuits do extensive intelligence operations against the Mossad and Israel, and have numerous agents placed there.

The programming labs had rooms set up, where members of the future host families would meet with and interact with me. I met my parents and siblings from each of the families I would have in these various nations, and they took family photos with me, talked with me in the host country language, and worked on my amnesia cues (to prevent bleedthrough, or having memories or speaking in the “wrong” language).  I grew close to the other siblings and my new parents, and was warned in the various presentations to never remember the cult facility, and for presentations to never remember living in another country, on pain of the death of the host family. Sacrifices were done several times during the first three years, and agreements made to keep the amnesia intact between presentations intact.

In one country (France), to my joy I was to be hosted with my identical twin, E.  We both loved our times together during the presentation programming, where we were taught how to  be part of a “normal” family and interact normally, to create our covers within these countries and cover the fact that we were actually raised in a cult facility.

The closest friends and family members in each of the host countries were, of course, cult members, since for the first three years, I spent almost all of my time in a cult facility and would not be actually spending time in the host countries until I was three years old.

Just before I went to host in the countries, each time, an important event occurred. I would be asked to “remember” living in the cult facility, would say something about it to the host parents. That night, a baby sibling (considered expendable, but allowed to bond with me over the past several months) would be killed in front of me because I “remembered”. This trauma was used to seal the amnesia between presentations. The cult host (the real “host” in an international system) also made agreements to never allow memories of the “real” (cult) life rise to awareness in the presentations. The Fathers would have me go into a room where a Jesuit Father was present, along with the host family, and later ask me if I remembered anything unusual. If I remembered the Father, who I loved greatly, the Father was brought into the room and tortured in front of me, to my screams and distress, because I had “remembered” the cult life. I was supposed to completely forget seeing a father when in my presentation, to completely “blank out” any memory of this other life.

In one setup, I would go into a room where cult objects were placed. My presentation was switched out. Later, I was asked what I had seen in the room. One time, at age two, I remembered and reported seeing a dead body and a chalice, and a Father in the room. The Father then came into the room, held a gun to my head, and said I would have to be killed, since my remembering would endanger the Order. I vowed to always forget. He said I must, or he would be forced to kill me, as sad as that would be. The next time the setup was done, I forgot, and lived. I did know children who actually were shot, because they kept remembering in spite of their trying hard to obey. The gun was not an idle threat; I had one brother shot this way, and never forgot this.

Pirate Programming

Babies love parties, and there was a special setup done in the programming labs with a pirate ship, jolly pirates, plenty of good soup and cake, songs and holding for the babies. This setup was done to create an internalization that would keep the internal baby parts inside and entertained, unless they were called out to be programmed.

Mengele and Senseless Deaths

Mengele (“Herr Josef” as I knew him) was head of the programming labs during this time.  There was one lab in Italy, another in East Germany, and another in Switzerland at this time.  He had students who walked around and mimicked him, assisting him. His main assistant was a young woman named “Hilde” with blond hair, blue eyes and an ice cold manner much of the time. Hilde was extremely efficient, and knew exactly what he wanted.  Herr Josef was not one of the three Fathers I loved (bonded to primarily) but he was a primary trainer, and I bonded to him out of necessity and survival.

Mengele loved “survival of the fittest” setups, and would place two bottles in the middle of a roomful of infants. A bell would sound, and the infants would all crawl quickly to the bottles; those who got there first and could fight off the other babies “won” and got a bottle that day. The others were killed in front of the survivors, to teach what happened to “slow” or “expendable” babies.

Mengele did not value human life at all. He would kill 99 babies in order to find one baby he felt was “worth keeping” out of a batch. He was terribly manipulative as well. Babies in the nurseries were punished terribly for disobedience. If a baby held onto the bars of the crib, because the baby didn’t want to be taken out to be tortured (programmed), Mengele would chop the hand off in front of the other babies, as an “object lesson”. All babies would watch this scene with round wide eyes and horror, as the consequences of disobedience or hesitation were shown dramatically. Herr Josef would say “That was a BAD baby; you don’t want to be a BAD baby” and all the babies, including me, made the instant decision to never be the “bad baby”.

Only ten babies out of a thousand would survive the first six months in this kind of environment. Mengele and his programmers insisted on absolute, complete obedience even in infancy, including allowing sexual abuse (babies were taught to open their legs on cue and allow this sadistic cruelty without crying), as well as other forms of abuse. If a baby cried too long after a programming session, or failed to greet Mengele with a smile and outstretched arms even after a previous day of unthinkable pain, the baby would be placed in a sliding box that would be locked for a day, abandoned in the dark as punishment for disobedience or “bad behavior”. The baby would be taken out, frantic to be held, and told to never disobey again, or they would be kept in the box “forever”.

I was rewarded for performing well: I would be held by a nanny who rocked me and gave me a bottle, and who would then take me to a window to get a peek at the outside world and sunshine. Or the Fathers I loved would come and spend the precious 15 minutes a day that I cherished, telling me they loved me, holding me, and teaching me what they expected (including allowing sexual abuse).

By the time I was a toddler (15 months), I was put in a cage in a room with dozens of other children my age in another “survival game” that Mengele made up. A buzzer would sound, the cage doors would open, and we would all rush to get food and drink. We had to fight one another to get food.  There was only enough for two or three.  I remember that after a few days, the little girl in the cage next to me seemed sick; she wouldn’t get up or run any more when the buzzer rang. I felt sad for her, and when I ran and fought and got my food and water, I took some to her, and tried to get her to eat, but she wouldn’t eat or drink. I didn’t understand what was wrong with her, but to my dismay she got weaker each day until one day she fell asleep and didn’t wake up any more. I tried and tried to get her to wake up, but she wouldn’t. Other children were getting sicker and sicker, and only three of us were alive and healthy out of the sixty children.  We watched the others slowly die, one by one, and wondered why Herr Josef thought this was a good thing, and praised the three of us so highly. I felt guilty and sad that I was alive and the others had died, and that I couldn’t wake the little girl in the cage next to me up.

In another setup, as a baby I learned to crawl through a maze. At intervals, there would be a bridge; another baby would be crawling from the opposite direction. I had to crawl across the bridge, and get to the other side, or get shocked; so did the other baby. The only way to get across was to push the other baby off the bridge. If I did so (and I always did), I was rewarded with a bottle and no more shocks; but I also had to watch the other baby be killed. I was said, but also knew that the price of my survival was the death of another; Mengele made that very clear in his infant programming.

Mengele had several top assistants who were younger (teens) that I began bonding to.  By age 12, children in the Order are considered adults, and they by age 13 were full trainers.  One would become my primary trainer during most of my childhood, and was a Father I loved; her name was Father Matthew and I wanted to be just like her when I grew up.

As soon as I could toddle around, I tried to follow her around any time I was allowed to. By age two, I was allowed to wear a little white coat like Fr. Matthew’s, and tried to act and sound like her. I wanted to be a head trainer just like her, and she and the other Fathers said that one day I would, because I did very, very well and learned quickly. Most importantly, I had survived many of the brutal tests of strength and intelligence that Mengele put infants through during the first year of life; I was considered a “keeper” and to have potential by him and the other fathers.

Any infant that survived the facility during this time period was at the top of the charts for strength, intelligence and survival instinct. Those who would be chosen for leadership also had another quality that I had shown by trying to save the little girl next to me: the ability to look out for the interests of others, and the common good.  All I knew is that life the first three years was a constant round of pain, testing and sadness with all too few moments of nurture and bonding.

 

 

Dealing with Torture

Trigger warning: discusses torture and Christian faith

Several years ago, I wrote an article about torture: the psychological effects, and how people respond to it.  This article is a bit different. I want to write about how to remember having been tortured, and still keep your faith that God is good, and the world still has good people in it.

Torture is a difficult topic; in fact, the very word can bring up terrible images for many people.  This is the “stick” used in the reward and punishment sequences used to put in programming.

It starts in the womb for many survivors, and goes on throughout childhood and even into the adult years, until an individual chooses to get out.

It causes immense physical, emotional and spiritual effects in those who survive.  In this article, I want to address this pain, and share some thoughts.

The most devastating effect of torture is that the survivor believes that God is bad, because they were hurt badly.

This is a common, and understandable reaction, that has plenty of help from the programmers, who tell the individual “See, God hates you, or you wouldn’t be getting hurt like this” and other lies.  A fetus may be surgically removed from the womb and tortured on a table by a programmer who tells the fetus that they are “God” and the pain is because of the fetus’s “disobedience” (i.e. trying to escape a needle or shock within the womb).

Prenatal and infant torture creates implicit memories (emotional memories without the actual full recall) of pain, rage and anger. The fetus or infant becomes enraged at God, who has supposedly abandoned them to this type of torment, and at all mankind, since they were hurt by people.

This is the root of the rage that is used to install assassin and other programming internally, and the unconscious fear of disobedience that keeps many survivors afraid to get free.  This pain also makes it difficult later in life to pray or trust God at all, after all, He didn’t seem to “be there” when the survivor needed Him most: their point of deepest pain and grief.

There is no “easy” or pat answer to this kind of pain.  I remember asking in the depth of my pain, as I recalled core fetal traumas that involved terrible torture in the womb, “Why did God allow this to happen to me?” Christian answers such as “Because people have free will” or “Because the devil made them do it” made me want to smack the other person.  I remember thinking “If free will is why, then people shouldn’t have so much free will…God made a mistake giving us free will…I will take less free will and no pain if this is what free will means!” I ALREADY knew the “devil made them do it” and that didn’t heal the pain or make me feel better at all; it just made me feel as if he must have an awful lot of power if he could get people to do things that hurt me this badly.

If you are a survivor, don’t rush to come up with explanations. Don’t try to “let God off the hook” as a way to stop your processing your pain or rage at what happened to you.  I don’t believe there are any easy answers to this; and that we may not fully understand until we meet Him in heaven.

Until then, I do believe God is big enough and loving enough to be able to take our heartfelt cries of pain, hear them, and understand.  He can sit with us through the process of hearing exactly how we felt about it all, and will even meet us and bring comfort.

If you are a therapist, or someone who supports survivors you need to be patient as the survivor processes their pain. They don’t need answers; they need someone who can sit with them where they are in their pain, and be there.

I believe that each person, in their journey, will find at least some answers that help, but this is individual. I remember working on some terrible torture memories, and sobbing, asking God “WHY?” As I did, I felt that I heard Him answer, not why, but what. He reminded me that when Jesus was on the cross, He experienced every single thing I had gone through, willingly, in order to provide for my healing. How He could take prenatal torture and tech torture, I don’t have a theology for, but I believe it.

Jesus understands our deepest griefs, because somehow, He has been there too.  In Hebrews, it says that we don’t have a high priest that hasn’t been touched by our weaknesses, and it is true.  He really, truly “gets it”; and knows how awful it really is.

It takes letting God go back to the point in time where you were wounded, to find healing. Again, I don’t fully understand how all this works, except that God is outside of time. As I prayed through many of my prenatal torture memories, I had other memories: that in the womb, I “hummed” (without sound in the watery environment), and that I was recalling the beautiful melodies I had heard in heaven prior to conception;  that God never abandoned me, but instead, I turned away from Him in anger because of the pain, and that He was willing to heal even this.

I admit freely that I don’t fully comprehend a universe where evil such as I remember exists. This is one reason that so many churches fear supporting survivors of ritual abuse and mind control: it messes with their theology, in which evil is limited. The things survivors report undergoing bring this theology (which feels safe and comfortable) into question.

I do believe that God is greater than any evil. The devil is not nearly as powerful as he would like people to think (otherwise, why would he have to pick on unborn children and infants, the only audience he can get to truly believe his nonsense)?  The devil has no real power, other than what we give him; this is why he tries to target unborn children with no outside experience to combat his lies.

But God can heal even this.  The God of the Bible can stop Satan with a word, and frequently does.  He does put limits on the evil that a person undergoes in their lifetime, and in His love, provides them with people that care and support them in their healing, whether a safe therapist, a good church, or a caring friend.

The devil is constantly communicating discouragement, defeat and despair, but God communicates the opposite throughout our lives, if we are willing to hear: unfailing love, amazing hope and abundant joy.  This is the heart’s response, as the traumatized survivor realizes that God really does love him or her; that He never failed to care and has always wanted to protect and heal.

The answer to torture and evil? The knowledge that regardless, God is good, and wants to heal, bless and protect. This is His true heart towards us, that no amount of programming can change or take away.

 

 

 

 

 

Recovered Memories and Denial

From the beginning of their healing journey, most survivors of ritual abuse or other forms of complex trauma will encounter a reaction that occurs at times almost immediately after a memory that was formerly dissociated is recovered: denial.

The survivor will question: Is my memory true? Am I making this all up? It feels like I’m “faking” or “seeking attention”.

Whether or not the memory is physically true usually cannot be determined right at the moment, until further healing occurs. The memory may first come forward in bits and pieces, in a fragmented manner; it may not be easy to understand the context and what happened at the beginning (since the survivor may be tempted to “fill in the gaps” with what they think the first parts of the memory mean), until various parts come forward and the whole memory is recovered.

Also, a survivor may have memories that are absolutely “real” and yet not “historically true”, such as the survivor remembering talking to the leaders of ancient Atlantis, or to a human-sized rabbit, or playing with angels who encourage the child to obey cult orders. These are real memories of what parts of the survivor have been through, but storylines themselves are deceptive set-ups that were staged with actors on a set, or through virtual reality and other technologies. Typically, when the entire sequence has been processed with the all different parts involved, the survivor is able to remember entering the studio where the set-up was staged, or entering the VR studio, or putting on a VR helmet. Or, the survivor may get in touch with older parts who know the technicalities of how such events were made to seem real to the survivor, as these parts had to be involved in the programming of other cult members.

I have heard individuals state “You can never know if the memories are true, or not” and this is NOT true. Over time, with healing and internal communication and sharing of information, the process of sorting out what physically happened, what was done in a programming setup in a facility, and what was virtual reality will occur.

Survivors, as they heal, can truly know what happened to them, and quite accurately.

There are plenty of articles, books and foundations online that claim that ritual abuse and mind control are ‘false memories” or a form of “mass hysteria.”

Baloney.

There are too many survivors who have remembered planned, sequential governmental and cult programming and mind control, and documentations of the realities, for this viewpoint (a good example is Daniel Ryder’s book “Breaking the Circle of Satanic Ritual Abuse” which documents verified cases that went to court, and it was proven that ritual abuse occurred).

I also personally remember after about 5 years of working on my own healing, wishing I had some external validation. I even prayed for validation, saying, “LORD, will I EVER know if my memories are true?”  About a year later,  I was emailed by an individual who asked me if I was (my legal name), and formerly a nurse. I told him yes, and he then shared with me that his wife had recently died, and while going through her closets, he found some boxes of records with my name on them.  Many had been censored with black lines, and he asked if I wanted the records.

I said yes, and asked him to fax some right away. He did, and I was stunned to see a picture of me at age two and a half, inside of a wire enclosure with a woman I had never consciously met; and records with my name, and also a code name, with medical procedures indicated; and also some emails from the West Cost to the East Coast discussing my leaving the group “AWOL” and what to do about it, etc. I remember shaking as I had physical proof of mind control, and took the records to my therapist.

The next day, I got a terrified email from the same man, asking “Who the HELL ARE you???” He then shared that his home had been broken into, papers scattered around, and all the boxes with my records which he was going to send had disappeared.  He asked me to never contact him again (I didn’t).

Several years later, another member of the group I was raised in chose to get free. She shared with me information about who I was that I had never disclosed openly with anyone other than my therapist. She validated that I really was who I had remembered, which was a gift.

In the end, though, the real issue is not whether the memories retrieved are completely accurate, or complete, in the beginning, but with how the individual’s system will react to memory retrieval: denial.

Denial Programming

Various groups will program in denial in various ways, depending upon the setting and the reason.  Most mind control systems will have at least one, and usually several, parts that have been given the specific job of denying memories if the individual begins remembering.

If the amnesia programming starts to fail, and there is “bleedthrough” (e.g., memories of the mind control trauma begin surfacing), these denial parts will immediately begin denying the truth of the memories. A survivor may wake up in the morning with bruises over their body, bits of bark in their hair, with no conscious memory of going outdoors, and will simply think “Huh, I wonder how those got there? I must have….(the denial part will then insert a cover memory to explain).

Denial parts will often be replicated in every system in a survivor of mind control, because this role is so important. They often sit next to distractors (whose job is to distract and prevent the presentation in the survivor of being aware of what is going on that they aren’t  supposed to see according to the programmers) and with unbelief parts.

From the presentation, all the way to the initial core splits, denial will be found as an active part that comes in, and does his or her job: denying the memories. A common scenario will look like this: the survivor will abreact with high emotion an extremely painful memory, with various parts switching in and out as the memory is shared. With tears streaming down her face, the survivor may turn to the therapist, and ask “Do you think this really happened?” “I’m just sick” or “I must be making this up.”

At this point, it is important to realize that the survivor is not really asking for validation (although they will probably want it at some point in their healing). Instead, the survivor is using a defense that was programmed in since earliest infancy or even prenatally, to protect themselves from feeling overwhelmed: the denial part is stepping forward and telling the survivor internally messages such as “This didn’t really happen”, “This is unbelievable, no one really does this to a young child,” “you must be making this up”, “no one will believe you” or even, “if you believe this, you will go insane,” etc.

The denial part is looking to the external person to see the nonverbal “cues” for what to believe, since they have been trained throughout their life to look for such cues from trainers;  or they are working very hard to keep the memory contained inside, and unbelieved by the survivor.  After all, this is the job of denial.

Denial parts will come forward to block therapy, and say things such as “I’m just making this all up,” “I have a really sick imagination,” “I am just seeking attention,” and other statements that negate the memories being worked on.

Denial parts are put in with intense trauma, with a demonic spirit of delusion attached. This part will go through frequent rituals and reprogramming, since they hold such an important place in the system.  Survivors have reported denial being one of satan’s or other demonic entities’ “favorite part”, and they are held, hugged and praised heavily for doing their job well (keeping the survivor unaware of activities going on), and are punished severely if they “fail” and the survivor remembers their abuse or current activity.

Some of the reasons denial parts keep doing their jobs, in spite of extensive memory work, can include:

  • They believe they are protecting the systems from flooding and overwhelm, and resulting “insanity”
  • They are invested in protecting the lives of loved ones they were heavily bonded to (including their trainers and other group members)
  • The core denial part believes they are protecting the core from destruction

What should be done if denial appears – quite strongly perhaps – and blocks any further processing?

It is important to understand why the denial part is out. Is the survivor overwhelmed with emotion, and is this a cue to slow down trauma processing a bit?  Is this defense being activated because “high security” memories are coming forward internally? Is denial trying to protect a loved one?

It is important to appreciate and develop a relationship with the denial parts. Often, survivors and others see these parts as “difficult”, or “getting in the way” but they serve an important function within the survivor. It is best not to simply try to “go past” a defense such as this, because it will keep coming back and blocking.

Find out WHY the person is denying. What do they fear will happen if they recover their memories? What does the denial part (or parts) need in order to feel safe?  Once the reason for the denial is addressed, the memory the denial part has been defending against may be processed more completely.

What if parts really do lie?

There are times when a survivor shares a memory, and then their parts disclose they were lying, and upon working with the parts, it is discovered they really were making up a story. If this happens, don’t assume that every memory is false, and don’t berate the part.

Instead, try to find out why the part felt it was necessary to lie. What purpose did this serve for them?  What are they hoping to gain, or to prevent, by lying?

Some possible reasons for this behavior can be:

  • Parts may “make up stories” to sabotage therapy, by appearing to be completely unreliable or unbelievable to a therapist or supporter.
  • Parts may lie to prevent the survivor from getting to the real (emotionally painful) story.
  • The part may have been programmed to lie in therapy for the above reasons, with trauma to prevent their remembering why they make up stories.
  • The survivor may be desperate for help, but the younger parts in the system feel unable to disclose what is really going on.
  • The survivor was accessed, tortured, and forced to recant an earlier accurate disclosure (the lie is that the memory was a lie – it is in fact true but now the parts are claiming it was a lie).
  • The survivor was surrounded by adult role models who lied, and this is part of their presentation protection (e.g., never let people know the truth, and they can’t hurt you).

The important thing, especially earlier in healing, is that when doing memory recovery, the real question is not “Did this really happen?” but “How can I help parts who feel this is true for them?  What do they need to feel safe as memories come forward? What does this memory mean about the survivor – and how can they process the information and make it part of their history?” “What makes it difficult to believe the memory?”

By helping denial parts, hearing their stories and issues, and helping parts to communicate with one another inside, the details of memories often become clearer over time.  Anyone working with survivors should not judge or invalidate memories, but instead, look at what is occurring for the individual as a whole, and the context for the survivor recovering the memory.  The survivor will need support and caring.

If a survivor shares a memory and asks, “Do you think this really happened?” it is tempting to want to answer them reassuringly, or immediately validate them (or not, depending upon your viewpoint of the memory). But this takes the locus of control away from the survivor, e.g., making the perception of the therapist more important than the survivor’s own perceptions, which recreates the powerless feeling the survivor had when others told them what to believe.

Instead, it is better to respond, “I can’t answer this for you;  I will be here for you as you work on the memory and over time, you and your parts will know.” Or even,  “I know of other survivors who have recovered similar memories as this, but it is important for you to discover what happened to YOU. You and your parts know deep down whether the memory is true, and I work with you on helping parts to share their history, which is your history as well.”

 

The Source of Hope

(trigger warning: Christian content)

I believe in sharing the truth, helping others become aware of the realities of what is going on in the world behind the scenes, and admire many who have chosen to expose to the light the dark realities at work in politics, finance, the media, and other areas.

At the same time, I also feel it is important to balance this with looking at the source of hope and healing; to the answer to all the terrible things that go on in the occult and mind control realms. Otherwise, it would be all too tempting to despair, or wonder “can anything really be done?”

This is when I go to the source of hope in my own healing journey: the LORD, who loves me and all mankind, and who has the answer to the darkness.  The answer, as one philosopher put it so well, is not to curse the darkness (although I must admit that I have in the past cussed out some pretty high-level folks who were engaged in it), but instead, to light a light to dispel it.

This light has a name: Yeshua HaMeshiach (Jesus the Messiah) of the Bible. I remember once when I was going through tremendous warfare; the type that makes you feel as though every demon of hell has been sent against you; the despair was like black clouds, and I wondered if I would live through the night (okay, I admit I have a tendency to piss off people in high ranks, so experiences like this have happened more than once).

In the midst of this, I prayed one of my favorite prayers: “HELP, God!”  And He showed up, and literally shoved it back. Not because I am good, or deserved it, but because He is kind. I felt His incredible love surround me, as He held me and comforted me, and gave me hope.

Not wanting to lose the chance to ask Him a question firsthand to help, I asked Jesus, “What should I do when this kind of warfare starts up? How can I get it to stop happening?” His answer surprised me. He stood in front of me, and said simply, “Look at Me.” He was reminding me to look to Him when the battle gets furious, and to remember that He conquered it all.

I can state with great certainty that the only reason I am alive today, and sharing what I do on my blog, is the love and protection of the true God (I use the term “true” to differentiate from  the fake setups with actors portraying “god” and “jesus”).  His love and protection are available to anyone who cries out to Him for help.

He truly is the source of hope in the healing journey.