Thursday, September 2, 2010

Depression, headache, weight gain, abductions…..

August 31
Depression, headache, weight gain, abductions…..

I have to hope that somewhere, somehow, there is good news for the good guys. Certainly, there is not for me. I continue to be abducted nearly every night, including last night, during which I received at least two injections. One puncture mark, and resulting “bump” from all the nanotechnology they put in is in my frontal lobe, about 1” into my hairline, directly aligned with inner edge of my right eyebrow. Why do they have to mess with my right side, damn it? I’m losing eyesight in that eye from all the pressure on the optic nerve, and today is no different—eyes having difficulty focussing. The second puncture mark is in the occipital part of my brain, in the lower right rear quadrant.

I bring this up because I hope somewhere good guys can figure out what these mind controllers are doing to me with these experiments. I guess the simple answer is that they are constantly trying to get me to plug ito the matrix—the computer reality with which they interact. To that end, they have added actual hardware—right near my belly button. I can just imagine them plugging me into something. They also added all the nanotechnology connections right in my belly. All I know is that my stomach hasn’t felt right since my castration and the addition of the technology. It is painful from my belly button to my groin, in a straight line.
I find that physical exercise that I used to be able to do—little things like riding a bike or doing the 30 minute circuit at the gym has gotten to the point of near impossibility. I literally get breathless to the point of stopping, after 30 seconds of doing slow (not brisk) stepping on a single layer stair stepper. I havent done yoga in over a month. I don’t know if I will ever be able to do it again. Energy drain is so complete unable to do any poses. So depressing..

So the question is do I ever get my life back after the fockers are successful and I plug into the matrix? Do I ever feel like a human being with energy and vitality again? I suspect the matrix has no physical reality whatsoever but is all mental illusion, so maybe it is wrong question to ask. I guess I can run 10 miles, without ever moving a muscle, curled up in a fetal position with a tube hooked to my belly button and all the neurological implants. Where is all my energy going, sucked off for the reptiles, no doubtt. Don’t know.

Just know that I worry about the manipulation of emotional and psychological altered states that the matrix and their agents can cause. I once read a sci fi story (Ursula K. Leguin) about a society that enslaved a portion of their humanity, but the norm was that the slave children ran free and played without restriction, until they were ten, when they were sent to work in the fields. Their masters had learned the hard way that to enslave and hobble a child’s spirit led to a neurotic and dysfunctional adult, resulting in less productivity.

Our slavemasters are not so humane. I think the reptiles prefer their slaves to be neurotic (and if they get really lucky, psychotic) and dysfunctional. I think I have successfully resisted the mind control and being plugged into the matrix for so long, because when the mind control began, I already had an optimally healthy mind, formed by years of spiritual formation and discipline. I’m reading some really scary stuff about brain manipulation though, and I can’t help but wonder what would have happened to me if these people had gotten their chemicals in my brain when I was still a child, youth or a young adult. The thought of humanity’s future existence as defined by a prevailing autism bothers me. I have experienced the limitations of being seriously autistic, and that is not fullness of life. But what if that was all I had ever known? If I were brought into a world where it was considered the norm, instead of a handicap? Would any child ever grow out of it? I am sad because I have lost the vitality and joy I once had. But at least I know what mental vitality and emotional joy is….

Anyway, I don’t know why the Aryans keep abducting me if they despise me for my “dragonseed” DNA. Maybe it is just a mind game they are playing with me, a kind of “hazing” to let me know they despise that part of me. Well then, I don’t see how they will ever succeed, for all the drugs and all the beatings in the world are not going to turn my love of myself as God made me, into self-hatred (but believe me, I have to pray not to hate them). I love all parts of myself equally, though right now I really have to work to love the Aryan side of me, but that is what love of self entails—loving the dark and difficult parts of your self-identity, and not just the “good” qualities or “DNA” that you CONSCIOUSLY choose to own. All hatred of the other originates as hatred of the self. Currently, I’m picking up a lot of self-hatred, not only from the Aryans, but from those who would read my mind in hopes of finding some kind of balm to ease the self-hatred that only their own spiritual life and progress can erase. I’m dipping my toes into waters when I am too drugged to swim. Know what I want to say. Another time. Time to go to bed and await another nite of abduction.


Later…having to take tylenol pm to stand the brain rushes. Now know caused by excess csf stymied in my brain. Eyes got the drugged look again. Worst of all the smell. The smell that is my brain is XXXXed up and being prepped for abduction. Smell of cheap floral perfume. Vacuum cleaner carpet powder. Smell that for the rest of my life signifies hell. Cant sleep with brain rushes this way.. severely autistic..


September 1—I woke up groaning again. God, I hate my body. I hate my sleep. I hate my waking hours. I hate what the Aryan PIB’s and their Vatican and Nazi allies are doing to me. My stomach is hurting more and more, and the computer hardware that they placed in my bellybutton literally seems to be increasing. I have no sensation in my stomach. The stomach is the seat of the emotions, and the implants they put their steal the emotions, leaving nothing behind but physical pain in my viscera and depression and flatness in my nervous system and psyche. A long time ago, I remember what it was like to be alive. I have known what it is to be joyful and emotional, and to have it stolen from me by implants is crushing. Do I go through the rest of my life half dead as I feel now? My brain too is changing from the nightly implants. Every morning I wake up to find out what area of my brain was injected the night before—just feel for the swelling. Slightly behind and above my ears, my brain has “caved in”, gray matter sucked out and destroyed by the Aryan drugs, implants and manipulation.

I just wish that I were a free woman again….as it is I have to go to sleep and endure another night of hell..

September 2nd, 2010—Woke up crying, so miserably unhappy and distressed to wake up in this goddamned body for another day. I know that I am on some kind of psychotropic that sucks all my energy and joy. I know that celibate Vatican, Jesuitical, and Opus Dei types are doing their alien masters’ bidding in the matter, as they try to mold me into their pathetic image and mold of their own phony and false “spirituality”—desiccated, sexless, emotionally dead. They are succeeding too. I have no emotions, just the blunt depression of moving through my days wondering how long I have to live in this hell.

I am alienated from reality, both the physical reality of my environment and the mental reality of my own ideas. I can tell because my house is a mess, and I don’t care. I’m not even in reality enough to bother with it. When I am healthy, I keep my home picked up and relatively clean. When I am severely depressed, dirty dishes are everywhere, I throw things—books, shoes, whatever--on the floor, and just walk around them like the somnolent half-zombie that I am. Mentally, I am disconnected as well. There is no wellspring of joy or love in me when I write, no positive spiritual energy to lift my ideas out of my head and inform my expression with unique zest and flow. My writing has become all brain and no heart. I was so disturbed by it that I wondered if I had internalized some kind of luciferian computer rhythm. The biggest tip off that a channeling is not from the divine realm, but rather from a demonic agency is that the writings have no “personality,” no emotional energy and joy, no “heart” shining through. As I look at my writings for the past few days, that cerebral deadness is what I see in my own writing, especially when I compare them to my earlier writing from, say, just five months ago.

In my head, I know that I want to write for my offspring, but I don’t want my children to see an emotionally dead and spiritually alienated woman, which not only is what my subjective feeling tells me that I am right now, but which also is revealed in the sterile, flat prose I currently am writing. So the only thing I write is this blog, and I am sad to see how dead and cerebral my writing is. Amazing to me, that anybody who considers their own self as a spiritual person, cannot see how devastating this psychotropic drugged state is to my true spiritual self and creativity. For genuine spirituality, at least in Christianity, involves the feeling life. I may cry every day, and no doubt the pharisaical PIB’s are rubbing their hands, thinking I am on the verge of conversion, but really my spiritual life is as dead as my emotional life. Not only conversion, but any authentic spiritual life is impossible to have, with the kind of dead emotions and blunted affect that I currently am experiencing.

In my dream, last night I dreamed that a mechanic told me that I needed an expensive repair to my truck. He said that a spark plug couldn’t be tuned, but had to be replaced and it would cost a couple of hundred dollars more. I knew that he was full of XXXX—the spark plug was fine—he just was looking to make a predatory buck, but unfortunately, my own truck was not in my possession. He had already started the repair without authorization. I had no control over my own truck! I have no control over my own body, and I don’t know if I will ever get it back.

Since I am not incapable of writing a memoir for my children, let me recommend a book written by a young woman, who despite her youth, seems to have figured out early on how to live life. FULLY, with both hands. It is Meghan McCain’s book about politicking for her father's’presidential campaign, and I can’t wait to read it (I’m waiting on a library copy). Even so, it did my heart good to see her handle a brief interview on Bill O’Reilly with complete poise and precocious aplomb. Every answer she gave revealed a srong, healthy humanity, and self-possessed of an age-appropriate maturity.To be honest, it has been a long time since I saw a young person so vibrant and healthy, refusing to warp their personality to ideological bullXXXX, narcissistic posturing, guilt-slumping whining (whether piling on self or projecting onto an "other), or tin-eared bullhorning. No matter what got thrown at her, she just rolled up her sleeves and went to work, including the hardest task of all—dialogue with people who don’t agree with you. Very positive, refreshing and hopeful. Hopefully, I will see more of this kind of attitude from others.

As always lways, there is more that I want to go into, but I feel so bad, so drugged, so sick, that there is nothing I can do but sign off, hoping for the day I am free of these goddamned implants and drugs. In the meantime, go Meghan and all those others who live life to the fullest.

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