I was a small town kid. It was a nice town. Our neighbors knew each other. We'd borrow butter and sugar from next door if we ran out. They'd borrow from us. Nobody locked the doors of their house or car back then. I was born in the 60's. My father was a severe alcoholic, He's sometimes put two fifths away + beer. His liver got him into medical textbooks, not for cirrhosis but for its resistance to toxins. He was a gunner in the army, and he was an incredible carpenter/model maker. So home was not a happy place. I basically lived outdoors. I was a happy kid when I was very young. I'd hug strangers if they looked sad. I loved angels, crowns, and glittery things. I believed in God. I had a bubbly happy personality. I liked people. People liked me. I liked kitties.
My next door neighbor had a son. He was my best buddy. We'd play matchbox cars and have squirt gun fights. His father used to call him home with a dog whistle. Anyway, this man presented himself to me like a stand-in father. He was nice to me. He didn't scream and be in stupors like my dad. He was concerned if I got hurt--unlike my dad. And he played with me, too--tickle battles swinging me by my arms, Popsicles, camping . . . and all those things kids like to do. He won my heart. Meanwhile my father was busy being drunk with his buddies. He worked up at a local military base. He was stuck in his own haunted life.
My mom was the quintessential doormat. She was depressed and was into pop psychology and psychic phenomena. She said on an admissions form in one of my hospitalizations that she had me to relieve her own case of colitis. Yet she tried hard to hold everything together in our house of pain.
This man who won my heart next door was a pedophile and claimed to be a Christian. Our neighborhood believed him. His wife was perverted, too, and she was deathly afraid of cats. I had a black cat I loved. I could not fathom why she feared cats. This man along with his family would show me filmstrips of the apocalypse with a tape soundtrack that would beep a signal to advance the frame. One scene I remember was of a little girl with a black kitten standing by her mother against a brick wall in the shadow of a man holding a shotgun. There was the sound of a mom begging for her life, her daughter's crying cat meowing, and chaos . . . bang! . . . and the next frame showed a smear of blood on the wall, the girl holding her cat crying, and her mom dead with blood pouring out of her head wound. In the next frame, they all were dead. The cat was gone. In this film there were motorcycle mounted guillotines and people with 666 stamped on their heads and lots of gore. This man showed these things over and over with the window shades down in the bedroom. I was 4 at the time. I was scared, too. He would come over to "comfort" me. And he did very perverse things to me. I was too scared to move. He claimed he molested me to save my soul and so I would not be cursed as a woman of Satan. He said, "Do you want to be possessed and shoot little girls?" I said, "No . . . " So I tolerated some very sick things, so I would not become a devil someday.
He'd threaten my pets and pay me money to hush me up. One day my cousin saw the huge wad of bills I had acquired. I told her how I got it. It leaked out through my cousin what went on, and my mom told my dad. He said, "What's wrong with her?" My mom never confronted the neighbor. She just told me stay away. His son was my only friend. His sick game became my path to Satan, literally. I began to think I wasn't meant to be in this world. The pedophile moved out because the cops were onto him for fraud. The molestation went on for about 3 years. I went to Sunday school twice. I was outcast there, too (kids there knew me from school). The teacher kept a lid on it however. Then I heard about Noah's ark. I was horrified. All I could imagine was little soft kittens drowning who did nothing wrong and were not chosen to go on the Ark, too. I saw my cat killed. I cried. I called God an "s.o.b." and ran out into the yard and cried. Nobody explained to me WHY God killed the "innocent "animals. I fully understood by experience why He killed all the wicked people (I had thought of that, too). But I had no clue that the people were so cruel that they made the animals become wicked, too. I started to hate God, and I hated my life as a human made in God's image . . . My father would take me to His workplace. I remember the psi cards being in a sound sealed gray room with an intercom sitting at a desk. They'd ask me to guess this card over and over. They'd hook me up to wires saying, "Slow your breathing." I went to a hospital and was taught "biofeedback" and was tested like crazy. I watched a dot spin around a clock face and hit a button when it hit 12:00 or switched colors. These were what my father and daughter outings consisted of that my mom insisted we go on. After sitting at the desk or going through 4 hours of "tests," my father would take me to a bar until late . . . If I was lucky, he'd let me spend 5 seconds at a gemstone/rock shop on the way to the bar--maybe get a pretty new rock.
My father would come home with weird rashes from work. He told me some strange things about work when he was sloshed. He'd bring home "samples" to show me. His pickup truck once mysteriously blew up after he told me about some energy devices that reduced gas mileage to almost nothing. He got out with some toe burns. In my perverted neighbor's absence, I sought my father's affection. I even did what the neighbor taught me because I thought that was how you asked--inadvertently dressing skimpy and displaying myself in a seductive manner because that's what got the pedophile to play with me and give me attention and care about me.
I got raped by my father at age 7 when my mother was having an emergency hysterectomy and might have died. I was in my room doing artwork, and he broke the door down, grabbed me punching my chest, pinned me on the spot, and ripped my clothes. I called the police afterwards, but I could not say the word rape. I was bleeding and scared. I sort of blanked out. The cops told me to drink warm milk and go to bed. This happened because both sisters left me alone with my drunk father. They went out on dates until wee morning hours. Also my aunt who was supposed to pick me up was also out looking for men. My only comforter through all this was my pet cat.
This all had an impact on my fitting in at school. The kids sensed something wrong with me upstairs although I was civil and got decent grades. They harassed me EVERYWHERE I went. I could not go to class without being cornered and beaten or gang humiliated at least once a day. Teachers looked the other way as I was humiliated, hit, and my projects ruined right under their nose in their classrooms! The halls were free-for-all. School was a place of misery, and hooking school was a thought I had everyday. I got very good at faking illness once I gave up trying to learn in that place. In third grade I remember studying female reproduction and childbirth. I was horrified. I swore right there NO babies outta me. I hated school. I hooked as often as I could until my father retired. Then I had no choice. This was when I was in 6th grade. There was no refuge. It was like this--year in and year out--until I began to lose it.
I used to hallucinate kids' heads exploding as they were at their lockers as if I could kill them with beams from my eyes. My father had a shotgun. It was accessible. I knew how to load it and shoot. How many kids could I trash before I had to kill myself I wondered? But something held me back. Even when these kids beat me up, I could not make myself hit them. I wasn't a wimp. Pain didn't faze me. I cut my own arms with razorblades. It made no sense.
My heart had God's Word inscribed on it. I didn't know it. I just assumed I was stupid, crazy, wimpy, or cursed. I blamed my femaleness. My mother was a doormat. I started hating all femaleness. I could not fathom why I cared about these people. I began to think I must be some sort of alien. Maybe that's why I went through all these dumb tests. I dressed in boy's clothes. Alien me got off the bus after school everyday with spit in my hair and my notebooks miles away scattered in some cornfield.
Everyday my cat would come running up to greet me. I would hold out my arms, and he would jump up--purring and licking my tears away. I loved him. He was the light of my life. My cat became my idol. Simply because he was so unconditionally kind to me. I decided people were monsters, and I was stranded here in this place . . . Cats loved anyone, just like I once did. I was always a smart kid. I read a lot, and I soon discovered ancient Egypt. Bast was the goddess of choice. Sekhmet was my "protector." She almost killed one of those monster humans. In middle school in ceramic class, the first thing I made was an idol of bast. I got my first deck of tarot cards that year on my birthday. Then my cat got murdered by bullies in my neighborhood. I hid in a rusted out dryer as they hanged him and laughing at my future reaction when I found him. They beat him as he choked like a piñata.
I declared war against humans and decided I was a feline soul trapped in a human body. I was NOT human or from this world. I was supposed to be no-sex--a cat god. I went nuts. I would have dreams of demons coming into me, giving me "gifts," helping me remember "home" which looked very much like Heaven. One dream in particular I was visited by a cat being with light up hair silver skin dressed in shimmery white robe that flashed purple and blue called LUX. (Lucifer?) He wore a horned hat like isis wears. He asked to come into my heart. I said. "Ok," because he looked kind and beautiful. Glowing purple snakes flew out of his hands and bound me and sunk into my skin. Soon after that, I became very good at tarot. I learned other forms of divination.
Those rocks I got on outings became useful. I could see him in my brain. His name was "Ahortah." He became what shrinks call an "alter personality." It was really a demon "friend"/defender/helper inside me. I scared people because of what I divined about them was dead on accurate. I liked people being scared of me. That meant they'd be less inclined to beat on me. I would have preferred friendship, but they didn't want that. I got very messed up in my head, and spiritually I began having an affinity for satanic images. I didn't worship satan . . . yet. In a Halloween window painting contest, I painted a Woolworth's window in our local mall with a reverse cross with a cat demon crucified on it in flames, and it upset the town. Woolworth's--without informing me--washed the image off before I could get my picture beside it with my prize. I cursed Woolworth's business.
People who hated me called me devil cat, evil b-tch, and would treat me like a I was devil with fearful respect . . . I still got beat up. But the same bullies sought my help with Tarot during lunch. I made a business out of it. I charged them for readings and charms. I had to set up an appointment book. I got good at hypnosis and sorcery. I would have kids hypnotized and squawking like chickens at lunch. I didn't do much spells. I did psychic work, hypnosis, and divination. Later I began to stop taking care of myself. I would not shower or comb my hair. I saw visions all day. I began acting like a cat demon. I cut myself everyday, lapped the blood off my arms, and smeared the rest on the wall drawing pictures of cat demons/pentagrams. I tried to kill myself over and over trying to "get home." I talked about mysterious stuff. I spoke and wrote in languages the 'demon/alters' taught me. I got "locked up" as a ward of the state. I was in and out of mental places for years. I never had a drug problem. I never broke the law, and I was not into any sex, drinking, or other socially risky things. I was just legally and frighteningly evil.
Later on, I learned to look more "sane" to please the staff to get more freedom. I learned to think more manipulatively. I still would get in trouble defending patients who were exploited. I organized a unit riot because the staff were keeping the adolescents from attending school and risked their graduation. They never let me off the ward. I took up for people who were scared to defend themselves. I taught people how to blow sand into the locks of the isolation rooms because staff used isolation rather than talk out problems.They were lazy and bullies sometimes. I would fight hospital boards on behalf of witchcraft--arguing why patients should be allowed to have crystals and ritual implements as part of "religious freedoms" (except sharp knives). It was okayed. I learned a lot about the psych system and the roots of psychology and the social engineering side of "therapy." I noticed therapist is spelled THE RAPIST. I discovered Freud was a pedophile sympathizer and said that it was "normal." I hated Freud. Meanwhile, I explained to shrinks quite convincingly that interests in the occult, sorcery, psi, and transexualism were not mental illness because psychology is rooted in shamanism, mesmerism. They checked their texts and found it was true. Some agreed with me. Two shrinks I had learned magick from me. They were amazed at the psi abilities I had. I met my future hus, and, and he was into satanism. I was figuring out that satan WAS indeed the source of magick. My research indicated it. I looked not only in "new age" sections of bookstores but also in psychology, anthropology, art/advertizing, and history, and I found magick was everywhere.
We got involved with satanism because it seemed logical. We worshipped our flesh. We thought that we were little Gods and satan was subjected to us because he was just this" dark flame/flesh force" that Christians fear. We had all sorts of phenomena. Soon we were disgusted at the Church of Satan because the followers were so obedient to their masters, the higher ups in the group. All their talk about self-mastery and self-definition was a joke. They were cultic. The church treat their allies like allies at all. Everyone was brownnosing and ego tripping, and playing silly mind games. What a waste!. WE got detected as having either ethics too satanic to be useful to the leaders, or they saw the writing from God on our heart we denied was there. We called it nobility or both. Either way I gave them trouble for a year or so online. I wrote alot of annoying stuff that was true. I wasn't gonna wimp out in cowering silence like all the others who left the Church who had issues with the mishandlings of higher ups. I was gonna make them eat their own "satanic principals."
I caused some waves. I posted the admissions questionnaire with a machivellian expose on why they'd ask such questions. I urged other people to reveal documents the Cos holds secret online for all to see and judge for themselves. I had a cultie come visit my home and hang outside to spy on me. I shook his hand. I knew but said nothing. I just told a cop that I was friends with. Later on, the Church followed our advice about a church schism much to my amusement. I got "excommunicated" from the Church of Satan for being a pain in their neck. They say all sorts of psychobabble rationales. It's hilarious. I was using their own satanic principles on how to treat an enemy satanically on the Church of Satan, and they couldn't "Hack" it! Oh well. Hypocrites. We left the Church of Satan and hung around a satanic goofball named Egan online for kicks. He worships satan as a god and hated the Church of satan we left and created a rival cult. He ordained us. We left him because he tolerated sociopaths, abusers, as members in the Church and saw nothing counterproductive in it. He was a moral relativist. We were not. Egan had pedophile leanings and would not be precise with us about what age is it wrong to sexually seek relationships with kids. He had a relationship with a 14-year-old Christian closeted gay boy who killed himself because he could not date Egan. Egan blames his Christian parents for the boy's death. We were disgusted with Egan and left his group. Next we went into chaos magick, Osmond Spare, etc. Then migrated to Kabala, shamanism, Wicca, Buddhism, then finally to UFO/New age. We actually saw a UFO one night. It scared us. It was a very strange experience and very real . . . Two days later the parents of my husband showed us an article in the paper about a bigfoot sighting right near where we saw the UFO! I was stunned. Bigfoot described in the books I had explained was an emanation from a deity. I was into.
The panther cat people (Sirian) beings--that is who I desired to meet! I thought I was a Sirian. That is why I was a feline soul trapped in a human body!! It explained my transsexualism and anthropomorphic feline desires. I began to suspect humans are but mere pawns in spiritual other world realms. I had no clue how vast what I didn't know was until then. I had to find out why evil beings come here and how to save myself or at least defend myself or pick the right alliances. I devoured books on the UFOs. But I soon realized that those books were nothing but wishful thinking--rehashes of magick we had practiced before repackaged . . . I read David Icke books. The "reptilians" looked like demons. Patricia Hand Clow talks about a future photon band and making every unenlightened person evaporate as the new frequency evolves us into "gods." The reptiles in places of power . . . I began to wonder. What does JESUS say about all this? Isn't there something in the BIBLE about people disappearing suddenly, too?
My husband and I bought two Bibles, and we read Revelation expecting?? . . . It looked VERY different from when I read it before. I actually wanted to know what JESUS had to say not what I thought Jesus would say filtered through my opinions about Him. Jesus was in His Word and stomping the very forces that caused all the pain and confusion in my life--destroying the sinful spiritual motives of pedophiles, addicts, sex freaks, body/self-loathing, and abuse. He would destroy those demons and people who choose to be evil by removing them from those who seek goodness. I began to remember being a little girl and hugging legs of people running around in an angel costume and laughing. Tears welled up. It seemed so impossible to recapture THAT level of innocent, pure, fearless, joyful love in my broken heart. God IS a God of the impossible. I HAD to accept Him. And I did.
November 11, 2000: Jesus came home to my heart. God says what I so desperately want but dare not dream. That's what He wants for us--to be loved, unafraid, unmolested, and not hurt, lied to, seduced, stolen from, humiliated, or beaten. He doesn't want us confused about who we are because of what has been, or confused with what we want with what we think we want because we believe we must hate what we have, or to hate our own bodies because they are weak or hurt and vulnerable or not ideal in the eyes of others--Jesus' promises to me and everyone who accepts Him. That makee me cry to this day.
I am recovering from my past, not with psychology that says if you make accommodations for sin, anger, or evil thoughts to relive "pressures" you might "feel better." That's a LIE . . . I know that "pressure" that leads to despair or power seeking is just the demonic forces that led bullies to hurt and exploit me as a little girl and that turned me into an evil person, who stopped loving herself and mistrusted all relationships with people and rejected a Good God even to the point of wanting to be a de-sexed cat demon. I hope that people can come to value each other as God wants us to. Love does not "tolerate" sins people love and use to hide pain. It is people who identify themselves with sin by choice. It is that choice of sin that compels people in sin to confuse others that accept their sin with being loved and accepted as a human being. This is a LIE. It is sin itself as God defines sin that causes death, abuse, sadism, fear, and pain. People seek sin to stop pain when they do not understand God. To make a social allowance for sin also effects the spirit realms, and it hurts even if you don't feel it now personally. We don't have to tolerate and entertain any desire/thought that leads our mind away from Goodness.
In the 70's, the doors of our homes where I lived were kept unlocked. That doesn't happen anymore. I wonder how much more good can life together be if our hearts can be left unlocked to each other? God can change us, so we are not ashamed or haunted by our own deeds and words done in secret to others or ourselves. God can change us, so we do not fear anyone or ourselves humiliating anyone even in their own secret desires because we are all that good. Can you imagine such un-defensive, un-manipulating, non-controlling, non-sexualized, safe, uninhibited, fearless, relationships with each other like that? In the Kingdom of God, the lions will play with the lambs and a little child will lead them all in a place where no one gets hurt or humiliated--God's Holy Mountain. I await that day when I hurt no more and no one else does either. And remember, everyone who gives up a love of sin as their security blanket is invited to feel that innocent joy forever--no more insatiable desire, insecurity, humiliation, or hurt living with our real father in a perfect world--with our Father who loves us dearly and understands the pain of a broken heart.
Because He died, was humiliated, was beaten taking each of our pains in a body like ours for each of us and as bitter, hurt, dirty, sinful, and cruel as we are, He still wants us as His own child . . . How can you pass this love up in favor of money, sex, or power?