The Background; Pt.1

I don't want to tell this story. It makes me sick to talk about it. I am just the tiniest bit autistic so I have a hard time getting thoughts into words and am ultra sensitive and socially anxious. But I really need to document these things on the blockchain where it can never be erased like I have been erased. We have a serious culture problem here in the US and I feel obligated to do my part to correct it for the few who care to correct it. I can't do it all at once so it will have to be a series.

I am giving the background information so you will understand what factors contribute to domestic violence, and susceptibility to enslavement. I also hope to provide some balance to the media-generated perception of the "freedom and justice" of the United States.

I entered the Earth in the mid 1970's in a vessel made by a man who entered the Earth in circa 1925, and a woman who entered the Earth around 1945. They were both heterosexual, "Christian" (Presbyterian), University educated, and decended from "White European" American colonists. My father from "Sooners", mom from "Quakers".

He was a pilot in the Army in WW2. Later, as a geologist, he made a relatively large income owning and operating a directional drilling company in the oilfields of North Texas.

My father had been divorced twice, and my mother once, previously. My father was a smoker and an alcoholic. We had very nice things, but he was a horrible man and was very abusive to my mom, as well as both me and my younger brother.

My mom was much more loving and responsible than my father. She tried her best, but the situation was very difficult for her, I realize now. She was an educator but stayed home full time until they divorced when I was around 7 years old. She often left us with sitters to go do hobbies which I did not like. She had a terrible habit of screaming at me all the time which urt me a lot with my sensitivity. She did not have the resorces she needed to help me understand things.

My parents were both big into politics. They went to President Regan's inauguration and always volunteered on local Republican campaigns. They were "fighting for freedom the right way." They listened to conservative talk radio and watched tv news. They wanted ro use their votes to violently elimate communism. They read the major papers and periodicals. They paid their taxes. They said they believed in Jesus. They looked great on paper.

I was very traumatized by both the abuse and the divorce. It gave me anxiety and behavior problems. I had a lot of medical problems during this time. Strep throat a lot, kidney infections, bedwetting, night terrors, chronic constipation, severe allergies requiring routine injections, and minor self harm (plucking out my hair and picking at wounds). I abused my brother horribly and could not be safely left alone with him when we were little.

It made my mom sick. She had to spend all of the whole family's money and 2 years in court to get free. The whole time, she needed me to care for her and my brother when she had sick spells. We would often be left to our own devices when she was in bed for hours or days.

My brother and I still were forced, by the court, to spend every other weekend, plus 2 weeks straight in the summer, with that raging psychopath, alcoholic, pervert. My mom had to drag me, literally kicking and screaming in horror, to that monster's house or THE STATE would use violence against her, and us children as well, so that we might never see her again.

My father always told me he was hurting me because he loved me so much. I had trouble understanding that. Mom sent me to a therapist, but that did not result in any extra protection for me from the causes of my behavior problems. I was told by adults I complained to that I should love my father, and that it was "good" for me to be with him. I did not understand. I developed a very unhealthy concept of "love". I shared this kind of "love" with other kids, for which I was rejected and punished. Parents had to protect their children from me and I had no idea why.

Mom made the mistake of sending us to the government schools (day prison for children), but thankfully, we had preschool at the Presbyterian Church. The elderly ladies were very kind to us, told us the most amazing stories from all parts of the bible, played piano, and taught us songs of encouragement. It truly nourished our starved little souls.

After the divorce was final, and we were forced to go to him for visitation, I began begging those old ladies at church to call CPS, as I had heard ads on the radio for a "child protection hotline" and was sure these guys would save the day if only someone would call for us. They were horrified at the things I said about my father, and said they would call. They must have honored their word because a CPS agent came next time we were at his house. They talked to him and left. They did not save the day. I was so shocked because the ads had gotten my hopes up.

My experience in the government schools in the 1980's was horrific. I don't even want to talk about it, but someone has to. Although I was very intelligent, schoolwork was a boring piece of slave cake, socially, I was displaying every single tell that I had no idea who I was, or what was right or wrong. I also had learned, from the custody order and the CPS visit, that I did not have a right to be safe so I was very axious and distractable.

It made me easy pickings for anyone who cared to amuse themselves by terrifying me or hurting me. None of the teachers would ever do anything to protect me, and on the contrary, punished me very severely for any percieved infraction. They were very focused on getting MY behavior under control.

They were mentally abusive, as were the principals. On two occasions, I was made to give false confessions. Once, in first grade, I picked up a peice of chalk on the way out of the classroom for lunch, quickly made a small scribble on the blackboard, and quickly put the chalk back, and acted like I didn't do anything in case there was a rule against me doing that. After lunch, the teacher found out it was me, and asked me why I did it. I did not know how to analyze myself at the age of 7, so I said "I don't know". She became very angry, and told me I would have to stand in the corner until I figured out why I had done it. I did not understand this at all. I had to think of a lie to get out of the corner. I decided that I needed to make her look more favorably on me, and told her it was because I admired her so much that I wanted to be a teacher like her. It worked. She then let me out of the corner, and I learned to lie to authority for self preservation, even though I knew in my heart lying was wrong.

The second one, when I was in 3rd grade, some other kid told the teacher he saw me steal stickers from her desk. I told her I did not. They forced a false confession out of me by making me do my school work in the principal's office for 3 days. Needless to say, it was horrible because my mom had taught me not to lie, but now some other grown ups say I must. I learned hatred for "authority".

My ever-so-inconvenient "behavior problems" grew worse with each year of cruelty and abuse until I was 13-14 years of age, at which time I began to be truant from the day prison, and runaway at night from whichever home I was ordered to be in at a given time. Thank God we lived in a small, rural town so I did not face being trafficked as a prostitute. Maybe I was way too much of a pain in the ass LOL. Some old men would try but I always managed to escape.

I learned whatever I could about life and how to survive from the old drunks and potheads who sheltered me. I spent as much time at my friends' houses as their parents would allow. I observed nature hiding from cops and my abusers in the vast oak savannahs and seasonal creek beds. I read a lot of books of my own choosing, mostly historical fiction and stories about horses and other animals and their relationships with people like me. Little House on the Prairie, The Black Stallion series, Call of the Wild, stuff like that. I wanted to be a homesteader. (Guess what? Now I'm a homesteader! Take that, ye slave traders!)

When I was 15, I got locked up for 6 months at the juvenile detention center, full time prison now. A shitbag excuse for a psychiatrist who I would name in this story if I remembered it, and was probably friends with my wretch of a father, was paid tax dollars to recommend this as treatment for my abuse symptoms, and "diagnosed" me with "authority oppositional defiant disorder". I had inconvenienced my owners once again by accompanying a friend during a pregnancy test heist at a local grocery store. My friend was too afraid to get a test from adults and had no money to buy one, so stole one.

That 6 months of all kinds of assaults on my well being rendered me unable to function at all. I think I had PTSD but they weren't aware of it at the time. The courts allowed me to take my GED instead of going to high screwel day prison, THANK GOD, but also ordered me to a year of probation and to take antidepressants and see a therapist. It didn't help me but made me much more compliant. I no longer tried to express my instincts and started drinking and running off with friends instead.

When I turned 18, my maternal grandfather, who was a wonderful and kind man who tried to help us cope with the horrors, gave me a little isuzu pickup and I got a job delivering pizza. I was going to make it on my own.

At 19 someone reminded me of Jesus and i decided to devote my life to Creator and live according to the instructions in the Bible. I worked hard on developing good character. I thought this way I could figure out how to be good enough to deserve love and maybe even some emblance of a family. Unfortunately I made the mistake of assuming that "teachers" in institutional "churches" shared my convictions from the biblw and allowed them to manipulate me into participating in voting and obeying the authorities. I worked hard to reduce my hatred of these vile criminals and believed the same lies about politics that my parents had. That I could make a difference through participation and submission.

By the time I was 20, I was the manager of a pizza shop and got a mortgage on a cute, modest brick house in Wichita Falls. I loved being a grown up and looked forward to a bright future now that I was free. I was doing 50 hours a week at my job and taking a half scedule of classes at the local community college. I was also responsible for my now fully disabled mom. In my free time I enjoyed church activities. I had a nice 3 years of relative peace despite the grueling schedule. I still wanted a happy, healthy family and that was plan A. I didn't have a husband so I pursued plan B, the goal of working a career in agriculture, or at least something like wild horse management or fish and game management in the mean time.

Then, when I was 22, I met a very convincing liar and witch that I believed was "my dream guy". He was a very attractive, very charming young airman from the local air force base named Bradley Preston. I'm going to try and find a way to describe how this creature, and his coven, utterly destroyed me and pillaged my womb, with the assistance of the government.

These creatures are everywhere, especially in the institutions of this country, which we have been taught exist for our protection. I am going to do whatever I can to teach others how to AVOID them, because our lives truly depend on this discernment. I am slow, but I will get it done, so stay tuned.

Also, this is a new experience, so I welcome constructive feedback, and thank you in advance.

#familyprotection