I Prayed

I wasn’t raised with religion. I’d gone to Sunday school once or twice with my friend’s family. But my family didn’t have anything to do with God except for using his name in curses. So in 1996 when they anxiety torture picked up in earnest and I begin to pray I found myself curious as to what would happen. It was the torture group who had control of me and was forcing me to act out this behavior. This was reflective of them and their beliefs.

I would lay in bed after a fight I started and pray silently to god. I heard the voice of my thoughts asking god to end the problems that made my family so mean and upset me all the time. Please fix things I asked. I was hearing the thought voice. This wasn’t my own thoughts. The torture group had only just introduced religion as a belief system and was showing me through demonstrations how people practice one part of religion.

Things quickly went south. After I prayed for some length of time and nothing changed for the better the torture group used their control over me to force another private acting out. I started cursing at and flipping off god. Who was somewhere in the heavens above me. About where the torture group positioned themselves. I was in a way flipping off and cursing at the torture group, my watchers above. I was always alone in my room when I did this.

I gave up on god according to my thought voice. For years she theorized about his nonexistence and how colorful and creative the stories in religions were. But slowly creeping back into my thought voice narration was the belief not in god but in a higher power. A something, she said, made things the way they were. And I was a victim of fate and destiny. I think my torturers are more religious then they raised me to be. Or once again they were talking about themselves.


Clap On, Clap Off

For all of my torture and as long as I can remember (which are the same length of time) I’ve seen street lights go out around me every now and again. They don’t flicker. They don’t turn on. They sometimes go out when I’m passing them by. Ask my mother and she will say as she always has half jokingly “I put out that light, with my magnetic force”. She believes in this kind of stuff. I however experienced the full story and can now share it with you…

During the first few months of my schizophrenia torture when I would walk at night to relax myself I found that street lights north of my house would randomly go off. One night while I was walking in the park near there I was instructed to go sit on the swings on the playground and then I was given a show. In front of the older kid’s playground at the park by my house is a old fashioned looking lamp light placed in the middle of the grass. As I watched the light in front of the playground was going on and off while I swung on the swings. The light went off in a controlled fashion. Jakob, who was the main character at the time, would predict when and for how long the light would go on and off. This was a continuous mechanized flickering. This was said to be a special show and it was claimed that city lights were actually being shut on and off by a controller at the city’s electric company control center and Jakob was telling that person when to turn the light on and off.

That’s the story. The torture technologies interfere with one other modern technology. They temporarily put out electric street lights. Presumably when they come into contact with the beam of the technology as it’s in use. Likely a specific use and/or a specific one of the technologies. If you’re ever around a torture victim and you see this event occur then it’s one way you can know for sure that the torture group is active. There are these subtle and indirect ways of detecting the torture group in action.

Hawaii 2012, New Years

I had agreed to go to Hawaii with all but one of my immediate family members for a week after Christmas 2012. The torture group chose to threaten to make me act suspicious from torture symptoms and be pulled out of line by TSA or make me have a seizure at the airport and other such threats. They’d revealed their control of my body and were having fun with what they could demonstrate on me for me to experience. It was enough to send me into hysterics. One day before the trip I told the family that I thought I might not be able to go while sobbing. Then I went and made it there anyways.

This was my first trip after the schizophrenia torture had begun. First flight, first time trying to relax, first time away from home. Though they threatened big they went into the same old regular vacation torture mode. Which means that they put me into polite and quiet mode. I seem anxious and shy when this occurs. Instead of me being a problem the family got annoyed with my brother. Which is typical.

Things went normal there despite the newest raises in my daily torture activity. There is a type of torture they’d been doing since the schizophrenia started during family holiday celebrations where they lowered everything but the thought voice program and made her extra critical of me and my actions while reminding me I was being tortured. So they did that for most of the trip except for some times when I was alone in my bedroom or outside smoking alone. Then I got a few of the new schizophrenia style torture attacks.

The trip was successful as far as vacations go. Only because nothing bad with the torture group did occur. On the flight home in the last hour of the five hours it takes to fly from Hawaii to Southern California the torture group laid down a visual torture attack. As I looked upwards at the ceiling of the plane it was visibly moving from side to side in an optical illusion type of visual attack the torture group can do. It sounds kind of normal but I’m not talking normal at all. I was incredibly worried that it would be getting worse. They stopped and let me get home without incident. All their threats and they carried through on none of them.

Las Vegas, 2008

I was excited to go to Las Vegas with my twin sister and my mother for my twenty-first birthday. That excitement died quickly when I got there. It was too busy. I’m not supposed to like places that are busy. Too many people, too many flashing lights and my torture goes crazy. I think the torture computer has trouble processing it but no trouble throwing down torture attacks in response. It started when I found out there was no smoking in my room. I couldn’t find the smoking lounge. I wasn’t allowed to smoke inside by the torture group. Except for one visit to have my first adult drink in a bar which was enjoyable. I could have smoked in the casino but that felt wrong. I wanted to be as alone as possible. I like to smoke outside.

I was grumpy and stayed in the room for most of the trip.┬áIt’s this behavior which lead to fighting between all of us. But it was the long trip home which caused an eruption. I was so fed up with the smoking situation and all the stress of being around people with the added bonus of a hours long drive home while unable to smoke that we went at it. It was me and my mother mostly. In return for her gift the torture group decided to abuse her. At one point I asked her to let me out of the car and to drop me off wherever we were. But we were an hour from home and she refused. This request continued until we got off the freeway. It was then that I made my move.

I asked to be dropped off again. She refused. I opened the door as we were moving. She thought she’d call my bluff and kept going, I wasn’t bluffing. I jumped out of the car as she drove at a casual speed. My sister screamed my name. I don’t remember much but for rolling and twisting as I hit the street. It was shocking and startling but not too scary. When I got up a stranger had pulled over to see what had happened but drove off when she confirmed I was an adult doing a ridiculous thing during a supposed family spat. My mother stopped to check on me. I gathered myself up and started walking home which was only three or four blocks away.

My mother drove off. I felt shaken. I had pulled out some hair, ripped off the laces on one shoe and skinned my lower back falling out of the car. But I had my purse with me and stopped for cigarettes. I walked all the way home just fine and got my other sister to help me clean and treat my back. I was very lucky. It was a stupid and dangerous thing to do. I had a crick in my neck for a few days. This was the third time I consider the torture group to have played fast and loose with my life. All I know is the thought voice said jumping out of the car would be fine and it almost wasn’t. My temper carried over into other bad behavior for many years until the second year of schizophrenia torture. Now it’s a rare occurrence.







A Million Little Army Boots

I had ear aches around the time of my earliest torture experience. This was around 1990 when I was four years old. It might have been a regular illness coinciding with my torture or it might have been a physical reaction to the torture. The torture group might know the answer to that but they aren’t telling. Maybe I’ll find out after the torture is over and the torture group’s surviving records are examined. Or from the torturers themselves during interrogation.

Anyways, I had ear aches which were severe enough to require frequent trips to the doctor and antibiotics. It was so bad that as my father used to say “Don’t give her the pink baby antibiotics”. I needed the adult stuff to make it go away. These ear aches and infections got bad enough that I needed tubes in my ears. Tubes, I believe, open the ears for fluid to drain. As the child ages and grows the tubes naturally fall out or in one instance of my case can be removed easily.

I would often get the ear medication in liquid form. This meant I would have to lie down for some length of time as the medicine slowly dripped into my ear. This was excruciating. Not because of any normal reason but because I was being tortured at the same time. There was a specific type of pain attack being used in connection to the ear aches and related problems. There was a singular torture attack connected to the medicine.

As I lay on my side with the medicine drip, drip, dripping drop by drop into my ear I could hear an intensified stomp of a million little feet marching. The torture group would sing to me “The ants go marching one by one” and I could see a visual of an army of ants, ants in army boots, marching down a tree. The ants were the medication marching into my ear and I could feel them entering my ear. This attack was painful because the torture group are cruel like that.

My ear stopped getting infections and I didn’t have to go through this torture attack anymore. It’s possible that my body acclimated to the torture with the help of many a strong dose of antibiotics. This torture attack and specifically one incident where everyone went off to visit with my Aunt C and left me alone with my medicine are still strong and clear memories from my torture even now almost three decades later. During the September-November, 2011 months of the first year of schizophrenia torture the torture group replayed the pain attack I used to get. I cried at experiencing it again. It was loathsome.

Early Torture Memories

I’ve lost a lot of information temporarily but much of it’s been brought back to me through the thought voice program. When I did regain memories of the past I often next reminisced with others. They frequently proved my memories to be inaccurate. The torture group claims they’ve been messing with my memory by inserting false memories into play. I don’t know how true that is. Because everything starts to blank out when the thought voice isn’t talking about something. If she doesn’t bring up the past I’m not thinking about the past. I don’t wander off in my thoughts and meander down other paths. I can’t disengage from the torture.

I have a collection of memories I’ve tested on others that didn’t pass the test. They remembered differently. This intrigues me more then it worries me. Because the all powerful torture group may have messed up content they consider important enough to attack me with. Or they can’t withstand the challenge of a fellow participant in the event remembered. A memory from their records of decades ago may be wrong and it’s all because they didn’t record it down properly. What else does the torture group inaccurately record? There may be problems with their record of their torture of me. I like what this suggests.

The torture group has proven that they record live and use that record in torture quickly and then log it away or delete it. They seem to have issues with storage space. Their massive catalogue of torture content takes up too much space to allow for accurate records on the victim during torture. What they record is their own actions instead. They record their audio, sensation, visuals and physical control of me not what was happening during the torture then. The torture group fails to record and analyze my side of the torture. They focus on themselves always.

The Probability Is High

Though the torture group likes to terrorize me about what the future will bring there’s nothing more potentially dangerous to me then my time after they are done torturing me. There’s a few reason why this will be risky. The first being that after nearly three decades of being physically controlled by the torture technology I will likely have physical as well as psychological problems from this torture. I’ve been researching similar types of experiences such as kidnapping and I get information like the victims have trouble thinking for themselves. I’m thirty-three years old. I’m no longer carefully watched by adults. The torture group controls me now and tells me what to do by making me do it. I’ll be on my own for the first time ever. This could go very wrong.

Being physically controlled for this long and then set free might be a dangerous health risk. I’m told I could collapse to the ground unable to hold my own body upright independently. I find this reasonable and demand more information which they refuse to give me. I know in the case of such a medical emergency my family would find me on the ground or in an emergency state and get me immediate medical help. The time between my release from torture and my family finding me is a probable risk.

There’s the risk of the people involved in the torture group who know everything about me including my personal information like my social security number. They can do so much damage that was never allowed to be done during my torture once my torture is over. They probably won’t but knowing that they might is bothersome. I could also be at risk from attacks in person from the very people who tortured me from a distance for all these years. They might have a personal investment and be adverse to my torture ending and cutting off their access to me.

So then I would be enfeebled by my torture with the danger of people coming after me to harm me or use me. This is not good. I do have a superb support system but the problem with my family is that none of them even remotely believes the torture is real and are not in any way prepared to monitor me correctly once I’m freed from my torture. They simply don’t know what the dangers are and would never believe them. Trust me, I’ve told them plenty. They think it’s schizophrenia. I’ll have to find the way to communicate my needs and protect myself if this situation should occur. Perhaps I should write down directions in case such an event should occur. Or publish more information online until they can find the answer themselves.