Conflicted and confused

Conflicted and confused, and all the while abductions continue. I am in a lot of pain, as the cutting continues, and there no longer is any excess muscle, so they are cutting essentials out of my back and shoulder, and the spasming is very painful. I am waking up with terrible headaches because of the "stinger" or implant that is lodged in the top of my mid forebrain. I no longer know who is doing what. I dreamed of the MACHINE-RA people abducting me last week, but I am not sure who is doing it, now. I cannot remember my dreams (may be that implant, rather than drugs--the /Luciferian/Amon Ra devotees may have put it in to stop me from engaging in astral battles.

I get the impression that the Salusa Sirian contingent is trying to get me to willingly walk into their chamber of technology, but I continue to balk (nice to know my free will is respected on some level). I cannot help it. I admit that I am paranoid and untrusting--I have just had too many bad things happen to me in my sleep. I know that there are negative Sirians out there, and that the Christian tradition tells me that Lucifer will appear as an angel of light. I do not think the Salusa contingent are luciferians, unless they are very devious ones--or else why would they save me--twice! The first time was when Salusa came after me on my "rogue" solo mission, and he gave me a paternal drubbing. The second time was just last week, when I teleported to God knows where (the South or maybe somewhere in Central America), and they came after me.

However, my cynicism runs deep. I remember a short story I read in high school. An American pilot of WWII bails out of his flaming plane into the English channel. When he wakes up, he is in what appears to be a British hospital with a doctor and nurse sporting the proper accents. However, something feels "off" to him, and he wonders if it is the concussion or drugs, or maybe it just is the cultural difference--after all, the Brits are a little different than Yanks. However, his unease remains, especially when they press him on debriefing details. By the end of the story, he realizes the awful truth--he is a POW in Nazi-occupied France, and the lovely British accents and touches are all part of an elaborate psych-ops to get him to spill classified information.

I have been in an unending psych-ops for so long, that being in one feels more normal than not. I am on constant alert, and being on constant alert makes it difficult to trust the motives of the operators of the psych-ops--for I know the good guys are running them, just as well as the bad guys.

Now, it would be fair to say that I have paranoid fears; however I think I have probably earned them. I think that deep in my psyche, there is a memory of being betrayed by people I trusted, and burned so badly, that I my soul was entrapped, enslaved, entombed by the MACHINE for generations, maybe centuries. I remember attacking the nurse after my first MRI, when I still lived in California. She had pulled me out to give me a shot, and I was not in reality, and went for her throat. It took me a few seconds to realize where I was and stopped, but the question is, what kind of chamber had I just been put in, during my initial abductions, that left me so discombobulated, that I would attempt to throttle a nurse? Finally, there has been my experience over the last few years, when night time became hell time, and never knew what abomination I would experience in my sleep. I felt all alone as I realized that a lot of the astral and psychic humans that I encountered, were actually enslaved to the MACHINE themselves. Somehow, most of them have been freed, but again, I cannot be certain that there is not some evil entity looking to spirit me off into soul slavery should I consent to ceding the vigilance of my free will. Nor am I certain that all parties will respect my desire to get back into either an intersexed lesbian body or a male body.

For the evil entities of the world want ME really bad. I am the fulcrum that decides which way the future of the world shifts, and I take that responsibility very seriously. If I go falling off a cliff, there will be a lot of innocents who will fall off the same cliff, too. Likewise, if I stick in my head in the sand, while all around me the earth is quaking and renting into deep chasms, and I deny the lifeline thrown to me from a "Black helicopter", I will just end up dead, and unable to impact anything positively. I recognize the PLT and positive Sirians/Pleidians involved in this endeavor to "unplug me", have a genuine desire that I join their dimensional reality. However, while I DO trust the people and aliens involved--I just have to be sure that they themselves are not being deeply deceived themselves.

If I knew more of what was going on, the decision to trust would be easier. Instead I encounter psych ops, which scares the shit out of me even further. I have to be in a place of psychological peace to make a momentous decision, and right now, I am spending all my time wondering and worrying, "What is going on?". That is not a place of psychological and spiritual peace; rather I am on edge. I guess that I am used to being on edge, but it puts me in survival mode, cover up and endure mode, rather than take a leap of faith mode.