My Mom's Cake & Torture

Yesterday I thought it was banana bread she made and then I had some impression of a cake. But it wasn't the banana pie, though it looked like a cake from distance. And I found out today my mom made banana cake. So she had actually made cake, and with a cream frosting. I know there were no pecans on it. What my mom made looked like what I had an idea of, except what I saw was round, I thought. I was tortured last night, until I started thinking about Dempsey before I fell asleep. Dempsey, the director for military in D.C., from NJ. I know he has something to do with it. Technology was being used against me for hours last night, until I started thinking about him and who he gives orders to. Today hasn't been the best day. I missed some work because of PTSD and being traumatized by seeing my parent's tortured, with no one doing anything. That's why I wrote more online last night, because I was upset, because I see they are tortured and evidence for it and then they lie. They lie like my son has been beaten into lying. I lost my temper because then I started to cry about my son and they said something to excuse others, and it's all to cover for the same people who torture us. It's like we've been blackmailed into paying the rapist. Why are we doing favors and forced to cover for abusers? So I lost my temper after I told to leave or have water dumped on me. I said, "And water is supposed to be bad after I've been tortured?" Those priests are responsible for everything that's led up to our torture. If they hadn't incited others to hate us, and colluded with some Jewish, none of this would have been possible. They used lawyers and police they knew and money, and went from there. So I had water thrown on me from a cat dish, but I said, "You throw water on your own daughter from a dog dish?!" and then I stomped on a rose and swore. Which is not what I did when the priest assaulted me. And he was not a relative, and he has ZERO excuses. It's one thing for my Dad to do this, which I felt more allowance for getting upset over, but when a man pretending to be a "man of God", a total stranger to me, does this in public, in front of everyone, I never shouted or reacted in anger. I was shocked and I cried and then left quietly. It was 100% different. Also, the priest didn't tell me to leave. He just assaulted me. His way of telling me to leave was to assault me first. So I apologized to my parents as soon as I got back from walking to the store, because you're not supposed to let something go unresolved if you know it's wrong. If you are convicted or know something you've done was wrong, the moment you know or felt that, you're supposed to apologize if you know God is telling you to apologize, and you're not supposed to wait. If you don't do this, it's curses upon yourself. It's not a "spell" or a "trick", it's just the way it is with God. If God is the one to bring something to your attention, then you're supposed to act on it, otherwise, God doesn't bring the Holy Spirit around so often anymore, because you've hardened your heart. Having God tell you to do something is different than others telling you to do something too. Maybe my heart is hardened to something for a reason, and others may fault me for it, but if God has not convicted me and made it clear He's not happy, I don't have to answer to them. I mean, in a sense, if there is cause to, or it's not like you don't listen to others, but people can point fingers about all kinds of things and no is perfect so there will always be something to find fault with, in anyone...so, it is my opinion, that the one you "fear", as in respect, the most, is God and what he puts in your heart or mind to do. Today I cut up a pair of underwear. I loathed looking at them. I went shopping with my mother months and months ago and while I was buying something, she picked out a pr. of underwear, knowing I needed another pair. But I felt it wasn't really my mom choosing them, and I didn't know who or why someone else would attempt to choose them, but she got these nylon underwear that said "karen neuberger" on the tag. They were solid black. I have 1 black pr and then other colors, but something felt "wrong" about those underwear. I said maybe I'll just throw them away or burn them. I really wanted to burn them. My mother said, "You're going to burn perfectly good underwear?" So I didn't take them for months. Just left them in the other house with my mom. Then they were given to me and I left them in my house, ignored. And finally, I couldn't stand it anymore so I cut them up today and threw them in the compost pile. I really did want to burn them. I even took those scissors and cut through the little tag. I did it before I saw my parents that day, before they were back from church. I have no clue why, or in whose possession they were, or what they may have represented, but they bugged me. So I got rid of them, having never once even tried them on or worn them. I know it was good to do but not sure why. Sometimes I do the right thing not knowing why and other times I don't, if it comes to things like this bc it seems so "irrational" and yet if there is a hunch about something, I am sometimes right when I follow and sometimes not. I wouldn't follow hunches alone for something really important, but a pr. of underwear is not a big deal. Then I opened up my Bible and was at random on a passage about being clean. (II Sam. 22:21-51 thereabouts). Which was great until then I lost my temper and stomped on a rosebush. Anyway, I want my son back. I don't know anyone, other than my own family, that has to go through things like this. If they are out there, I don't think we've met. My mom asked which one but I have no idea. I know where it is but I don't know what it's called or anything or even what color it is.