I had someone ask me last night if my blog was real or if some of it was half-fiction.
I told him that at one point, some of it was fiction because I was trying to figure some things out and wrote things sometimes to mislead and try to get discovery. However, in the last year or two years of torment, I have pretty much told the truth.
The stuff about God or dreams and the cut on my head--that is all 100% truthful. I feel that if I lied about dreams I had and wrote about them, or if impressions I got were lies, or this weird phenomenon of a cut were lies, it is not just "me" lying, but me dishonoring God and provoking the wrath of God. So of course I tell a fib maybe every so often like anyone, about something that doesn't hurt anyone, but only in regard to my life in general and not about spiritual things, or things I feel may be spiritual.
The thing about the cut on my forehead is very similiar to a cut I got in Wenatchee or D.C. too. It had no possible explanation and I blogged about it and then the next thing I knew, Mykal Holt was using this as an opportunity to claim I weilded knives in my sleep or in a "psychotic" state. This is a lie and she knows it. She knows I've never been psychotic and she never witnessed such a thing. She said this and attempted to ruin my custody of my son with it.
She thought that since I wrote I had an unexplained cut, that she would make it out that I was psycotic. Well, this just happened to me, in a room full of 20 0ther women. I did not have my bag with me that night, and had only a bag full of curlers and my Bible and a book called "When Pigs Move In". I took it with me upstairs after dealing with the cops that night--the night I had wanted to be tested for being doped up with meds.
I am doped up. It comes and goes and I believe it's an anti-psycotic because my memory is affected and my speech is such that I have a mild effect of the tongue-tied feeling. And my normal body responses are not normal.
My entire family believes I should be tested now, but not in TN. So I will be tested in another state or if necessary, another country. However, I think I can do it in another country.
But yeah, there are over a dozen witnesses who can confirm I was sitting up talking to this one woman about food before I fell asleep, and there was nothing wrong with my face. I was sitting up talking to more than one woman and if I had blood on my forehead, I'm sure they would have asked why. I fell asleep, with nothing with me and nothing sharp on the bed. Then I woke up and there was this cut. I considered that it was from a bad source but then because of the way it showed me something through prayer, I felt it wasn't bad at all. I hadn't felt afraid or harmed or as if I was being attacked by an evil spirit (though I believe this can happen and take different forms). I think it was God allowing it because then I was lying prostrate to God and my entire body was straight out and then all of a sudden, why would I even think about my foot? I never think about my body posture or parts when I pray. I am too focused on praying. And I was lying there and trying to honor God and then my attention was drawn to my foot in the middle of this focused prayer. I even cried a tiny bit which I very rarely do. It was very short but meaningful, and that's when I felt this internal "voice" that wasn't a real voice, but someone drawing attention to me to notice my foot. So I don't know what it means other than "marked for worship". I'm not saying that's the interpretation, but it was on my face and then this corresponded less than 24 hours later to prayer. It was more like something that just made think more about God and not as much about me even though I didn't know why it happened. I was lying down on my stomach and my right leg was straight just like my left leg. It was only my foot, my right foot, that was crooked inwards torwards the left foot, bc it was hitting my bag. It was a straight angle and matched the cut on my face.
There is no possible way I did anything to myself in a psychotic state because there are a lot of witnesses who can testify I had nothing sharp and how would I do this to myself anyway? I didn't. I sleep through the night, and I sleep soundly, in a top bunk. I don't roam around sleepwalking and we have cameras throughout the building. I would be on camera if I did. So there is no possible way for me to do anything to myself at any time and it happened in the middle of the night. I thought maybe someone else had cut me with a razor but then I didn't know why I wouldn't wake up from it.
If anyone looks at it, it looks like something done with a razor. There is no possible way it was done with my nails because you can see it's not from nails. And it's wider than a thin papercut. If you see it you can tell there is no possible way I did it to myself with my nails. And I sleep on the same bunk with the same mattress every night. I have, a few times, taken my bag with me if I forgot to put it in my locker, but rarely and I didn't have it with me at all that night. I was told to lock it up and did.
But I had someone ask me today if it's happened before and yes, it has. I didn't know what it meant before but this last time at least, I didn't feel it was a bad connotation.
And I'm just a normal person. I mean, look at me. I'm just normal and have flaws that are obvious and I don't hide them, and I try to work on them but I get lazy and lax like everyone else. I got mad about something this evening and didn't have the best attitude maybe, and a few things were really bothering me, on top of being tired tonight.
Then, I thought, at the very end of the night, "God, how do you feel about me right now?" or I just went to my Bible bc I felt so defeated in so many ways even if there is sometimes a good streak, and I asked for something and randomly opened the Bible right up to this passage I read recently over and over, but landed specifically on: "I will build you with turquoise and your foundations with sapphire." I just stared, shocked, and thought, "Why do you even care about me?" I thought I might open up the Bible to something of reproval but it was all encouragement and right at a time when I felt I had just blown everything forever and sealed the papers and put the nail in the coffin and yet I didn't "feel" wrong for some very odd reason but maybe it's because I'm doped up.
I noticed times when I was trying to humble myself (as if I need to be humbled or humiliated anymore than I am already) and trying to keep thoughts from my mind that I feel are wrong, in any small way. Then there was this one man, for example, who came in and was pretty rude and I was so mad, but just bc it was built up with other things, that I was thinking, "I guess I will just drop his check and bow in front of him" and why would I do this? I don't know if it was some passive-aggressive way to say "I can bow in front of you and it means nothing" or "Here your majesty, for thinking yourself superior," or maybe partially it was to humble myself and force myself to do something that was the exact opposite of what I wanted to do. The thing is, I reserve my bowing for God, but I don't know what I was thinking. I didn't know for sure but I went by and tried to deliberately let it slip from my hand and it wouldn't slip. It refused to fall. I tried several times, and it kept refusing to fall even though I wanted it to and the paper should have fallen, by all logic and gravity. I finally gave up and just put it on the table and then later thought, "Well God, who knows, maybe you were trying to spare me an indignity even if I didn't care." The only reason it stood out to me was because I was trying so hard to make it happen and it wasn't happening. It was some man wearing a NY baseball hat who was there with a woman and they were both wearing purple. It wasn't stuck to me with salad dressing either. It just refused to fall. My plan was to let it slip from my fingers as I was walking by to the next table but it refused to fall to the ground. I believe they were Jewish and she seemed okay except for maybe one thing I caught her feeling sort of happy about which wasn't great for me, but he sort of put all this money on the table and then said did I think it was for me? and he wouldn't tip that much because that would be "huge" but he first indicated I was to pick it up and then he was humiliating me. I sort of felt like I was going to do this bow to them just to swallow my pride and make him feel important if he wanted to belittle me and God wouldn't allow it. I guess they could have been Catholic maybe but some of the features looked more Jewish. But honestly, she looked a little bit Italian too. Who knows.
I just think to myself, I don't even know why all these things happen.
Other remarkable things...
My mother and father and some premonitions and things with my son.
Oh, and before that, I had an impression of someone playing on a pinball machine at about 5:45 or so this evening. I saw an arm bent and going back. It was a man. But then I thought maybe it was pool, to aim the stick jostling for an angle. I thought pinball more though, on first impression.
My Mom and Dad told me about this movie they saw, right after I told them about being tortured at this store while shopping for my son and then the whole England flag thing as I was sitting on the ground. It was SourceCode. So I looked it up and paid the most attention to the header: Make every second count. I have been thinking about this for the last 2 days now, since I read this. I have thought, "How do I write about all the things I need to write about?" And I have to work and make my minutes count at work and make more money. And redeem the time by reading scripture. So many different things to do and some sense of urgency of "What do I do regarding a particular situation?"
God, do you want me to say nothing at all and let everything slide? God, why didn't I ever ask you if you intended for me to have some part in things? God, why have I been too afraid of getting what I might ask for? God, was I wrong to never ask because I was afraid or was it because I didn't know and didn't want to assume I knew?
I have so many monumental questions and then new things where I thought, "I have been asking you for an answer to such and such but why didn't I ever think about putting it this other way? and would you help me to know or understand?" and then, "I have really screwed up and time is lost." and then, "But God, you alone know how impossible things have been for me and how hard I have tried to beat back the forces and how could I have humanly done anything differently at such a great disadvantage with the things that have literally been done to me?"
I have been pondering all these things and feeling this urgency and trying to make seconds count. Then I took time to eat and thought, "Well I'm not eating fast enough. Should I be eating when I have other things to do?" and reasoned, "You have to eat and be a good example whenever possible of what you eat. It is a necessary part of using your time."
And then with all of this in my mind about making every second count, I made lunch for myself. It had to be quick and fast and I made provolone on wheat sandwiches and then mixed corn with spinach, fresh cilantro and freshly squeezed lime (1 lime) and then decided to add a little Pad Thai seasoning sauce to it. So I opened the box today and I was pouring it in and something caught my eye from the corner inside the box and I only saw, "...to be slow" and thought what is this? and I pulled it out and it was this ad for Saving The Turtles and it said, "Now is not the time to be slow." Something like that.
I thought, I have been thinking this very thing. The problem is, I don't know exactly what to do yet.
And then I saw this man running past me today as I was walking back to work after a late lunch (at about 3:30 or so) and I just sensed it even more.
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The cool thing that happened with my son was on Easter.
I had these moments where I was laughing and felt so happy and wondered if my son was. I found out he was taken to a really cool thing for kids that he's never been to before: a petting zoo with train rides and inflatable jumping gyms and an inflatable castle maze. I asked what he liked the most and my aunt said, "The jumping contraption (where he could jump inside of this structure with lots of kids) and the castle."
The social things, playing with kids and having fun. I also thought, maybe he had good memories about the jumping thing because I took him to one at a gymnasium at a play time I paid $3 for, at least 1-2 times a week. Usually 2 times a week. He loved it and we went to it all the time together.
And I asked what animal he liked most and I was told "the bunny". Which also made me feel good but sad because I wondered if he thought about me and how I had tried to buy and give him a bunny.
Then the interesting thing was that I had been trying to think of what he was doing that day, before I got to talk to my aunt and I had all the same things come to mind. I sort of saw him doing things at a petting zoo and had train ideas and all kinds of things come to mind but most of all, I saw him picking a flower.
Then, that night, while I was talking to my Granny on the phone she said, "Oliver is coming in from outside and he just picked a flower."
I said, "What kind?" and she said, "A violet."
I found out that all day, during the playtime, he never picked a flower. But I had a premonition that he was picking a flower and then he did. The main thing that came to my mind was him picking a flower and then I thought, "Why would I think he would stop to pick a flower?" out of all the things I could think of. But this is what came to my mind most and then HE DID.
But it was later that he did this. And I was on the phone to hear about it when it happened.
Which made me think, "Did someone read my mind and know I thought he would pick a flower? and then he did this?"
I sort of saw him picking just one flower too.
But that was one of the strangest things, and sweet things to hear.
I was so upset and crying last night. I was so devastated and still am and yet not in this very moment but I was trying to feel what I should be feeling, despite this crap that's in my system. I have lost so much time with my son. He is going to be 5 and there are only 13 years left to raise him before age 18 and I have been robbed.
I have Been ROBBED of my only joy.
I told my Granny, "There are mothers out there who love their kids, but maybe they put their careers first, or their boyfriends and romances even above their kids, and I have always intended to have children and made a concerted effort and plan to babysit and learn as much as I could just to be an amazing mother. And I am an amazing mother and God knows this.
And I have been robbed of my only joy and there are only 13 years left.
I am the one God wants for his formation and emotional and intellectual development. My son wants to be with me. And I think to myself, what kind of a country is this if they don't investigate his kidnapping from me?
How can I live here if they don't. I pray to God someone is investigating bc there is no reason to refuse to return my son. And last night I came to a realization that much more of my recent problems have been centered around royalty than I thought. I never knew. It's not the Pentagon guy bc he's married and no one was ever worried about that. The only thing that would cause international people to worry, some of them, would be hype about me or fear about the other.
My problems didn't start with this but when it may have appeared like I might have an interesting situation or get out of the defamation and get ahead, there was an enormous fear. and this is the only reason, combined with the desire of some to use me and my son, that anyone would even care. And even if I never knew, someone else did. If psychics and people have been on my case, hard-core in the last 2 years, to live with me, torture me, follow me and have access to me, and try to read my mind, what were they reading in the mind of someone else who has probably been tracked and tapped their entire life? There would not be any fear, I realized, if nothing was there at all.
And for things I didn't even know about or realize or understand, my son and I were further tortured.
So I do sense an urgency, but I really do not know what to say and how to write. Probably tomorrow I can do a little writing. I will try, with God's help and I always pray to be wise with what I write. Well, not always, but most of the time.
I need the prayers of others to say and know the right things. I need your help.
I have also prayed for Bradley in jail in Virginia and know some fear that if they share with me, the same thing might happen to them. I hope I am able, despite all attempts and even medication, to say what God might want me to say. I am also hoping for courage from others and that God will move in their hearts however he should.
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These hispanic housekeepers are saying all this stuff in the background (at this hotel where Im typing by a window) about don't be a princess to eachother. This woman from Colombia came into my workplace today and I felt she was intentionally trying to provoke me, at this time of all times, in a restaurant, blowing huge bubbles with bubblegum and popping them, which is not what anyone from Colombia would do unless to mean something. When I blew bubbles, it was while trying to get to the courthouse for matters and maybe she didn't mean it that way, but I didn't feel like she was there to help me at all. When bad things were happening for me I had people imitating me blowing bubbles as if to mock my nonchalance.
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My son has suffered and suffers and I have had to endure this for a long time.
This morning at work everything was fine but this afternoon something was happening--as soon as it was the second shift, someone was using technology on me. It didn't happen at all until about 2 p.m or so. Then I went to lunch and then came back and someone kept doing this. Then they quit from maybe 6-8 or 9 p.m.
I have to get to bed and have to write seroius stuff tomorrow but i got distracted looking up stigmata. What I just read is that it has often occured on Good Friday and then disappeared by Easter. So that's kind of wierd this happened around that time. Mine isn't disappearing though. It's just like a normal cut or mark that is healing naturally even if it appeared out of the blue, supernaturally.
I looked up this Marie Rose and it says there are photos of the cuts on her forehead so I was curious and then I also saw something about a Christina Gallagher who gets this and I guess she's in modern-day Ireland and her cuts on her forehead look like the one I have except I only have 1 and she has a lot and they look bloodier. I washed the scab and blood off of the one I got.
I can think of 1 other time this happened to me but maybe more than 2 times and I just don't remember. But after I blogged about one of the times, later someone tried to use it against me as if I would do this to myself, with or without psychosis and I would never do this.
For me, I don't think it makes me a holy person even if it is from God. It's more that God is holy and maybe it was to get my attention about something. My cut is approximately the longer length. I guess I'll photograph it if I can, to document, but it really just looks like something someone did. I also saw some icon for the Order of Francis and stigmatics, and it is an oval with the hands crossed at the wrist and that's how I decided to pray when I tried prostrating. I already had the mark on my head and then this is where my hands were crossed, at the wrist, but I for some reason had my palms closed. I don't know if it is an unconcious symbol of being a slave or servant to Jesus but I didn't think about why I was doing this at all. I had no symbol in mind. It just happened that this was the posture I fell to and I said to God I was submitting myself to his authority and honoring his majesty (basically, in these approximate words) and what Jesus did too, and the Holy Spirit. And I asked for my son. Anyway, I am reading about some of the stigmata stuff and I think it can happen to anyone probably, no matter what denomination or whatever. But I agree it might be to cause one to think of God but I don't agree it is like getting credit for wrong or is some kind of penace or whatever. I really don't know totally. My first thought was not stigmata. I thought william of wales bc that was my only frame of reference and then passover and then later looking it up saw other ideas. I thought it might also be an attack from a bad source until I prayed and felt it was confirmed to me in a different way. But no, I don't want to be a nun or a protestant nun or whatever. I am meant to be a mother of my son, and a single mother if I am not married. And God has never told me I have to have this or that or be married to have my son. Never. I read something about a saint named rita who had just 1 mark but she asked for one and I think it bled all the time or soemthing. It says she didn't reveal to anyone some of the things she "hid in her bosom". I even swore again today--I mean, I am not holy moley nor do I want to be except in the sense of trying to honor God or have a relationship. I just think it's a little weird and it's happened more than once too.
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After sobbing and getting almost hysterical about not having my son with me and how I am robbed of this civil right and joy, in my own country, and how I wanted to RAISE him, and others are too hateful and afraid to even allow me to raise my son, I got a scripture verse from the basket at the Y today and it was a verse about raising your son to remember the law and about raising children.
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