May 3, 2020
For the last six years, which feels more like 15, I’ve been getting a recurring message about myself I couldn’t understand. It did not seem accurate. I knew better than to ignore it, so I filed it as a note until I had further information. In the middle of the night last night, I finally decoded it enough to make sense and can now work with it.
A familiar way to describe the message is that I am like the Bourne Identity. As in, a super high end assassin working for an evil organization, who is put undercover with an implanted identity to the extent of not remembering s/he is an assassin, until activated by the organization and put into action.
The messages were always about these kinds of assassins with variations on the cause of the false, forgetful identity. I’ve seen an interview of a “normal” person discovering this happened to her in real life. She found the stash of weapons… But there is really just no way I am an assassin. I am physically weak and there is nowhere to hide weapons ny van… So I didn’t buy it. But the message kept coming.
One of the themes of these messages is redemption. Hmmm. That I do relate to. I know something is up, but what?
Last week I shifted from trying to remove the control of the “demons” fucking with me (a losing game,) to diving in to them to find my power and hidden truth. Things started unraveling for me.
In the middle of the night I found more of the mystery puzzle pieces and started putting them together. It goes something like this:
Since birth I was repeatedly attacked by the unknown “evil organization” that was using and programming me. Primarily though sexual abuse. By the time I was 5, a dissociative coping mechanism had fully taken over as my conscious personality – the false identity complete with the amnesia, forgetfulness, blind spots and control mechanisms. Events related to the programming trigger me and cause suffering in myself and others as intended by the “evil organization.”
Here I am in my van in the dark and rain. I can hear the velcro holding up my window curtain starting to lose hold. Rip, rip. I continue my work.
Wetiko (a Cree term for the pervasive mind disease,) or archons, or whatever term you like for the “demons” causing vast destruction on personal and global levels, is a strange, double hidden phenomenon. It holds what the victim is missing, her power, her creativity, the truth of her true nature. The evil demon disease needs to be mined for the jewel inside. Now combine that with robust scientific theories in quantum physics and cutting edge cognitive science. There is no objective solid reality. Consciousness may co-create reality every moment. Matter is not the building blocks of the universe: information and probability fields are and metaphors are the mind’s interface. The division between inner world and outer world may not be accurate. I synthesize this into a working belief that our perception of our experience is made of metaphors of things arising from within, from the subconscious and superconscious and collective.
Now return to the metaphors of the assassin and me. Instead of extracting myself from the reach of the demons and the things that trigger me, just as in the Bourne Identity story I am to turn toward the evil and disarm it. During my amnesia, like Jason Bourne, I developed the ability to see it for what it is and choose to not play that way anymore. I developed the ability to perform the disarming and the mining dive. The triggers activating me can be used for the construct or to dismantle it. Rip, rip.
(There is a fascinating and revealing conundrum in there.)
And then I remembered another clue I’ve been carrying. During one of the attacks, a demon in me attacked back. Like Jason Bourne and the many other messages I received, I am not innocent.
** I am not innocent. **
I am involved in some way or another. There is no division of me and them. This is another thing I’ve learned and integrated during my amnesia. Riiiiiiiip. At that very moment the curtain in my van fell along with the curtain in my mind.
This opened the pathway to recovering the parts of myself lost when I was 5, and the healing my spirit has been after all these years.
Note to reader: this story is not to be construed as any kind of victim blaming, or claims of the harm being for a good reason, or that I chose it upon myself. It is absolutely essential to hold perpetrators accountable for the harm they inflict. That accountability occurred in an earlier part of my process. The sense of unity expressed here is a different, internal process that opens other doors. It is not meant to be practiced with the perpetrators in the flesh. It is exceedingly rare for that to work, although many have tried. I suggest great caution and professional training to avoid further harm.