I’ve been in a highly triggered state recently. Like a constant high state of trigger. It feels intentional. When I vocalize that I am feeling this it seems to get worse. I’m having a really hard time fighting it and getting out and stable. I’m not sure I know how to fight what’s happening to me.
I think I’ve remembered something. I had two voluntary abortions in my early twenty’s, during a time in my life when I thought I was just making bad choices with my boyfriend (now husband) and did not have any conscious memory of my abuse. But the memory of one of these abortions has surfaced today. I’ve always known/thought these babies to have the same father. I wasn’t a promiscuous person. Sex between my boyfriend and I was not frequent. We lived 4 hours away from each other at the time. However, I remember when I went in for the procedure, the nurse told me I was 13 weeks along after performing an ultrasound. I remember being very surprised/shocked by this, as I felt like I knew when this conception took place…8 weeks prior.
I’m wondering now. Was this his baby? Or was it one of the others? This is heavy on my heart. Did I discover a pregnancy before they were able to claim it and use the baby? I feel like such an evil, disgusting, dirty person. I don’t even know the extent of how sexually active my body has been in it’s lifetime. Imagine that. How many more babies are there that I might not remember? Are any of them still alive? Can I save them? I don’t even know how to comprehend and process this…
Red shoes. Cannibalism. They rape the babies and children. They eat them. They skin them. The red shoes they proudly wear, they are made from their flesh.
A little girl talked to me yesterday. I was sitting on my bed deep in thought and was surprised by her presence. I wasn’t sure what to do or say so I lay there silent, with my eyes closed, and listened. She told me a story of something that happened to her. This is what she said…
“In the underground there are cages. It is dark and cold and scary there. It is sad and painful. I cried a lot. Not out loud though, because if you do, that is bad and you get in trouble. You can only lay down with your legs curled up to your stomach. You can’t talk to the others who are next to you. If you do, they will take you and do things to you. They burn you. They eat you. They cut you open. They tie you up and put things inside of you. They scream in your face. They hit you and don’t stop until you stop making noise. I don’t like it here. I can never leave. They will chase me and take me back. I have to do what they say or they will cut me. Or burn me. No one will help me. Everyone forgets about me. I try to tell them what’s happening but they all stop talking to me. They are too busy. I don’t think they believe me “
When she was done talking, she cried.
This story took the little life that I had left out of me. It has frozen me in a way that I have not felt in a very long time. I feel stuck in that cage again. With no power and no will to fight for freedom. I can only sit there and obey. It is the safest thing to do. I want to help her but I don’t know how. I want to save her but I don’t know who she is or why she came to me. I want to talk to someone about this but no one is there.
In the darkness of the night I stood in front of the stone table. I was led there with no clothing on, blood dripping down my legs, holding an infant. The man with no hair nodded to me and I placed the baby onto the table. There was a fire burning underneath.
This image has reappeared over and over in my head. My body goes numb, shuts down, every time it appears. And for days after I feel sick to my stomach. I vomit. My head hurts. My heart races. I cannot sleep. I cannot eat.
Each time it returns I close my eyes in fear. Pushing it down as hard as I can, trying to avoid the unavoidable overwhelm. A voice in my head repeats over and over “She’s burning. She’s burning. She’s burning. She’s Burning…” And the glow of the fire fills my eyes and covers the image. I’ve screamed. I’ve panicked. I’ve cried and fallen to the floor praying no one finds me.
Oh God. What have I done?
…the fire burns…I am praised…I am tied…I am touched…I am used over and over for celebration…
My gaze goes up and I float into the top of the giant trees. I hide and rest in the canopy, hoping no one will find me and make me come down ever again. But they always did. Over, and over, and over, and over.
In the underground rooms there was a young girl like me who I now know was in labor. I was in the room next to her and I heard them through the door say “she is ready.” I could hear she was in pain. I heard footsteps and a door open and close. I know they had left her alone in the room. She cried and she moaned. I got up from my bed and I peered through the door. I saw her laying there alone and afraid, wearing nothing. She rocked back and forth, side to side.
I was sad for her. I knew the pain she was in. I made a dangerous choice and walked through the doors over to her. I talked to her and held her hand. I started to cry with her and I rubbed her belly in an effort to comfort her and soothe her pain. I told her that I hated it when they touched my stomach and asked her if she hated it too and she said yes. We smiled at each other and cried together. She groaned and began to vomit.
A flurry of black and white rushed into the room towards me. I froze while I clung to her hand. There was yelling and words I could not understand. My head whipped backwards and my body was grabbed from behind.
I can feel the fear of that moment in my throat. I can hear the grunts of my own voice as my body jerked backwards and violently shook. I don’t know what happened after that. The pictures in my head disappear. I never saw her again.
My body is experiencing sensory overload. It’s overwhelming. I’m forced to shut myself down and numb every last cell of my being. It works for awhile, until the images push their way to the front of my mind. Tears leak. Hands shake. My heart pounds loud and fierce. Fear and anxiety fill my soul. I fight and shut it down again. I need to forget. The cycle repeats over and over. See. Watch in Horror. Fear. Anxiety. Overwhelm. Numb. Repeat.
I watched as they laid his small naked body on the ground. His arms outstretched and wrists bound. His feet and ankles entangled in ropes that made the shape of an X around them. Eyes wide in fear, he is erected high. The knife touched his chest. He screamed and cried out. I remember how his body shook so violently, his eyes and mouth so wide. I stood, rigid, and still, frozen, watching the blood stream down his belly, his legs, to his feet. His head dropped down. They opened his stomach. They opened his legs. They opened his arms. They said he was an angel. His skin pulled to make his wings. My hair blew in the wind. My knees shook. I knew he would never come back down from there. My stomach feels sick. I do not move. I know not to move. I wonder if I will become an angel too. I wonder this to this day. When will they come for me?
My insides are full of evil. Gruesome. Unbelievable. Unimaginable. What has happened to me? When will this end? I don’t want to see this anymore. Close my eyes. Push it away. Breathe it out. Forget. I have to forget.
No. Open your eyes. Stay alert. They are coming…closing in. I cannot hide forever. I am afraid. I am overwhelmed. Stuff it down. Numb it out…
I am evil.
As I was drifting to sleep the other night I had an image come into my head of a baby whimpering in distress and sorrow. It had something black attached to it’s head that resembled the look of headphones. It was so clear in my head and I felt immediate sadness and angst and wanted to literally grab that baby out of my head and hold and comfort it. It was such a strong feeling, I picked up my phone and recorded the details. I had this gut feeling that it might be of significance. I have had flashes of babies before. One was covered in small black snakes, crawling all over it, on its face, it’s head, it’s body, it’s hands, everywhere. Dozens. The baby didn’t move. It just stares into nothing.
Last night I disclosed to my therapist some things I have been seeing in my head. I had absolutely no intention of going into any of the detail that I did and I’m not really sure how it all came out. There was so much fear inside of me. I felt like I was going to throw up. I stood up and paced. I was trying so hard to not say a word about it. I couldn’t contain what was happening inside of me. I don’t remember a lot of what I said, which scares me, but I do remember some things and being in such extreme distress. More than I have ever allowed myself to outwardly show him. I regret everything today. I’m waiting for the consequences. I know they’re coming.
I told him about the babies in my head. The nursery where they were kept. The metal white cribs all lined up in a row. The babies just laid there. No movement. They stared without expression. Wires attached to their feet and their heads, right above their ears. They were trained from birth to comply. If they cried, they would be shocked or burned. Their limbs would be pulled straight and restrained so they couldn’t move. They were fed, but only after they had to endure their torture. None of them had hair.
At this particular time there were five babies. Three were laying lifeless in the cribs. The baby that cried, it was taken away. I never saw it again from that day. The fifth baby was in a sling chair on the floor. It was smaller than the rest. They wore white shirts. Their legs were bare. There were no blankets in the beds, just the babies. I was never allowed to hold or touch them. There were times when they would take them away and I knew I would never see them again.
As I write about this, I am now seeing a young girl giving birth. She wore a white gown. They just pulled the baby out of her with some sort of metal instrument. She stared at the ceiling. Frozen. Her hair was light and fell over her shoulders as she lay there. There was a man between her legs and a women standing next to her. I don’t know where I am in this room. I just see it happening. In a weird way I can feel her extreme agony and pain. But she doesn’t show it. She just lays there.
I don’t feel like myself. At all. But when I try to identify what’s off and what’s “me” I have no idea either so how can I even feel this way? It’s like I’m floating in an unknown world in my head. Super slow motion. Watching things slowly spin around me as I watch and wonder where I am. Nothing looks familiar but at the same time I know it’s not a place I want to go back to.
Today I was sitting with my therapist and my mind went down a path it has been avoiding for a very long time. I knew it as soon as the images entered my mind and I tried furiously to push it back away. I have been here briefly before. I was screaming and fighting three men who had me restrained. I was kicking and battling, trying to get away. I charged forward, they grabbed me. I dropped my body down and went limp like a toddler throwing a tantrum, they held on, their grip was so tight. I kicked my legs and flailed my body. They growled in my ears and held me tighter as I bucked like a wild bull trapped in a pen. I was trying with everything I could to not go through the doors they were leading me to. They commanded my obedience. I don’t remember what happened after that. It ends with the chaos of this incident.
My mind went from there to solemnly following a woman down a long hallway. I don’t remember what she looked like and there were no words exchanged until we reached our destination. She opened the door and pointed to a pile of neatly folded clothes laying on a bed with a metal frame. The sheet and the clothing were white. There was nothing else in the room except for a metal chair. I was instructed to put them on and sit in the chair next to the bed. I was left alone and went through this routine I feel I am very familiar with. I sat and waited, frozen, not daring to move a muscle. The woman returned and she sat in front of me. She asked me question after question and I had to answer them correctly or else I knew something horrible would happen. She left me alone again.
When she returned she opened the door and motioned me out to the hallway. I followed her to an elevator with a silver door and we went up several floors. I followed her out, turning right down another long hallway. It was brighter than the one below. She stood at a doorway and motioned me in to sit. In front of me were three men. Their faces were very stern and serious. I know these men but I can’t make out their faces in my head. They wore dark suits with white shirts and dark ties. They stared at me as I sat frozen in front of them. The door closed behind me and I was left alone with them. There were two large windows with black frames. One behind the men and one to my left side. The sky was white and there were trees in the distance. I felt very cold.
The man in the middle spoke firmly in what seems like a language I don’t understand but somehow I know exactly what is being said. I am given my instructions and asked more questions. I am to work with the babies. When the mothers give birth the babies are put into a nursery where they are tortured and deprived and trained. I don’t know how I know this or why I just wrote that. My instinct is to delete because I don’t understand it.
Tears are falling as I write but I feel nothing but confusion inside so I don’t understand their purpose. I don’t know what this is. I fear I have a mental illness. All feeling is gone inside of me. Something else has taken over. Something is horribly wrong.
I did tell some of this to my therapist this morning. His reaction was strong and it felt as if he was angry and irritated with me. I felt immense shame for saying anything and an incredible amount of fear for speaking any of it out loud, like something awful was going to happen to me. I haven’t processed this enough to know what it even is. I feel like I don’t have any context for it, yet at the same time, other things fit into it that have never made sense to me before. I don’t know how these things could have even happened. I don’t know how I get to these places with these people. I don’t know who they are. I have no answers other than I am wrong. Something like this just feels like it can’t be real…I would remember. Wouldn’t I? What has taken over my brain? What is happening to me? Is it even real? Am I sick? Like, literally, have zombies taken over my body and made me into some creature of hate who loves making up stories that isolate and bring me down to my knees or curl me up in a ball in fear? I feel dead. I know no other way to describe it. I am scared. I am worried I’ve lost it and am unfit to parent my children. I am so confused and lonely. I am living in a place in my mind that feels foreign and fuzzy. I’m trying to figure it out. I need help.