Monday, January 9, 2012

"We're Not Who You Think We Are" (to UN)

This was said to me, not by my parents to the UN, but today they asked just what kind of complaint was I writing. I said, "The one I'm getting tortured over." They said we hope it doesn't include us and I said it did. Then my mom said, "We're not who you think we are."

We are not who you think we are.

I don't know what that means exactly, but following this she said, all in the same paragraph: "...we're not being tortured, we're not being blackmailed, and we're not lying."

Just turn those negatives into positives.

I know for a fact they have to lie because they do it to my face, knowing I know they're lying. They're forced to and they are NOT safe to tell the truth.

I'm not sure what "we're not who you think we are" means, but then she added we're not being tortured, and we're not being blackmailed and included it with we're not lying.

So that says to me, in code to anyone who even cares:

Yes. We are being tortured. Yes. We are being blackmailed. Yes. We are telling the truth but forced to lie. And then possibly yes (?) we are who you think we are. ? Whatever that is, and what I've thought is that they're government remote viewers and forced to work for the U.S. I've thought they are CIA or former CIA that got dumped and tortured and forced to work for another leader or group. Or that someone was accused of treason and instead of being given a case to judge by facts, since the nature would expose too much, forced to work for the U.S. as penalty, and our entire family forced as well. Or that it's Army related, with their programs.

I do know, without a doubt, that they are being tortured and blackmailed and they can't tell anyone here.

I've been tortured to the point of being driven out of my house recently, and night and day and all they gave me at ER was stuff to shut me up by knocking me out to sleep for days. I took an Ativan today and slept until it was dark out and I still feel groggy. So they started torturing me again until I took another Ativan, and instead of sleeping, I'm forcing myself to stay up.

No, my neck pain wasn't cured by Ativan. They just decided to quit torturing me after I took it because they know this will knock me out.


Anonymous said...

You can't accept the truth. I think your parents are basically telling you that you are mentally ill and that they are not subject to all the crazy things you say are happening to them. If anything your parents are being affected by your mental illness. It is hard to deal with a child who is so obviously mentally ill. Emotionally and physically.

Mama said...

My parents have never said
"We're not who you think we are"

to me, ever.

I have never said to them, "I think that you're...__________" or given them some kind of idea of what I think.

It is a fact my parents are reaching out to someone, to try to discreetly affirm they ARE being tortured, and they ARE being blackmailed. I can see that much with my own eyes.

I live right next to them. If I were psychotic or delusional, I would have been assuming this about them when I couldn't see them, when I was in TN or Wenatchee. I don't make crazy jumps past reality. I wait and if there is evidence that clearly proves something is true, I am not going to lie about it.

The evidence is that they are tortured and blackmailed. And if anything, "We're not who you think we are", said to me, if turned to a positive, (we are who you think we are), would be that they are forced to do psychic and remote-viewing work for the govt. Which is pretty obvious. But guess what?

NO PERKS. We are all tortured. My parent's property has been tied up for decades. It's all a show of assets and freedom when there is no freedom. They've been forced to even give their kids bad advice or pressure them to do things. If they don't, THEY and WE get punished.

Do you think it's just a coincidence that my mother broke a ceramic swan?

Mama said...

My parents never fought around me when I was a child. Never. If they had arguments, they quietly discussed things out of our hearing. Except for one GRAND occasion.

And now that I'm an adult, I believe it was made to be as big as it was, or happened to be, coincidentally, to make such an impression on me I wouldn't forget it.

They had a SCREAMING match in their bedroom. They never screamed. It was OUTRAGEOUS and it was a full blown screaming match. I was at the door and heard a huge CRASH and then knocked and my Dad left, furious and my mother was bent over, picking up pieces of something, crying (or pretending to cry). It was a ceramic swan. It was something I had always liked. One of my favorite things to look at. And it was shattered into pieces on the hardwood. I bent over and helped my mom pick up all of the pieces.

I am not sure, but I almost think there were two of them, and that one broke. But maybe it was just one. Then they later had real swans in their pond and someone stole one of them. My mother was especially upset, saying they mate for life.

I don't think it was an accident this was broken, and yes, my parents are being blackmailed and my family is being tortured.

Mama said...

This is the only huge traumatic event I remember, involving my parents fighting with eachother. And it was all about a swan.

Stop telling me I'm crazy and go get yourself a drink.

Mama said...

Oh yeah, and we're related to some kind of royalty on BOTH sides of my family but no one has papers for the estates to prove it, even though genetic testing proves it.

My mother is the one with elf ears like me, and that comes from the Scots I believe.

For some odd reason, my Dad's mother had proof we had an estate in England that was lost to an unscrupulous cousin who either stole the property or was swindled out of it. Then we're related to the Howards on the other side and French too.

On my mother's side, Granny's father was Luxembourgish and had pins of some kind and the photos have disappeared, along with Granny's Dutch sugar and flour and coffee containers she had all while I was growing up. Granny would NEVER get rid of those Dutch canisters. They were of a little blond dutch girl and a blond dutch boy and they were ceramic and held sugar, flour, coffee, and were labled in dutch: zucre (I always remembered zucre bc as a little girl I stared at them while eating cold cereal and thought the z was funny for s and would repeat it in my mind), and then the words for other things. There was a ceramic windmill for one of the jars, and I think cookies went in that one. But I know there was flour, sugar, coffee, and something else and then the windmill. The girl and boy wore clogs and she had blond pigtails and the colors were blue and white.

Granny's mother or mother's mother's name was Queen. Then my aunt locklyn named one of her daughter's Rani, which means Queen, and her face got cut up when she was starting to grow up and was pretty, and as for "Queen" I highly doubt anyone in my family would give one of the relatives such a name unless it was as a reminder of something.

Someone STOLE all of Granny's dutch ceramics, just like they stole everything and anything that might have felt "threatening" in some way.

Mama said...

Granny would never get rid of the Dutch containers. I believe they had been her mothers. Her mother was a McQuery, a Scots-English McQuery. Either that or a Wooten. Maybe she was the English Wooten.


Mama said...

She had them all lined up on her windowsill. The little dutch girl, the little dutch boy, the windmill, and something else but I forgot and the ONLY word I remember is "zucre".

I used to move them around, put things inside of them, look inside of them, and ask Granny how to pronounce the words and she knew how to pronounce everything.

I am TIRED of people being JEALOUS and STEALING from my family.

The last time I remember seeing them on the windowsill, it was before Kyle Flick moved into town.

I was preteen or possibly a young teenager. When my brother and I spent summers there, that's when I stared at them everyday. I was more middle-school and intermediate school aged then.