I find that the horrors of my past continue to follow me into the present. I don't think that I will ever be free from this legacy of isolation and despair. I have broken free, thanks be to God, from the influence of the group itself. The last (I believe) rope that kept me tied to them was my ex-husband, R. Parts of me recently revealed that he had been involved in perpetuating the mind-control programming and accessing alters to assure their continued involvement. Exactly what that involvement entailed, I am not clear. What is clear to me at this point is the following:
I have found it increasingly detestful to communicate with R in any way, but particularly by phone or text. Email is a last resort only when something MUST be addressed.
There was a period of time when he would call me, without fail, the morning of my therapy appointment. On no other day of the week would he call in the morning. That, of course, stopped during our separation and divorce. However, the week following the initial dicovery, he called and attempted to carry on a conversation, fishing for information about the current state of my life.
He never accepted and consistently supported my journey into truth. In fact, more often than not, he would attempt to discredit things that I was uncovering in my sessions. He also did not respond in a "normal" way to young child alters, prefering to yell at them and ignore them. Additionally, he would often push for a reconciliation with my parents. He willingly invited my mother in on the ocassions when she would appear on our doorstep.
My alters have shown me a conglomerate of pictures that include him holding an upside down cross, evil and malice evident in his face. They believe that our entire marriage was a set up, that the group intended for it to happen so that they could keep me exactly where they wanted.
What the group could not predict, nor prevent, was the working of Holy Spirit in my life. He opened my heart to the everlasting, unconditional love of the Father. He demonstrated His power that overcomes any and all evil. He has led me in His paths and exposed the plots of the enemy, setting him to flight.
I have recently reconnected with an old classmate from school. The first time we "chatted" online, I sense something that I can only call God's calling to me. There was a resistance within me to continuing a discussion and that was because I was fearful of becoming involved with him, even though it seemed to be what God was placing in front of me and saying, "Will you trust me and take it?" We have been talking online for hours now, and twice had plans to meet face to face. Both times they fell apart. Our discussions ranged from the mundane to the immensely profound and Truth was at the center of it all. There was open discussion about looking for a marriage partner, rather than simply dating for the hell of it. He posseses so many qualities that I have been longing for in someone with whom I could share my life: he's funny, kind, loyal, generous, spontaneous, sacrificial for his children, excellent parent, respectful, thoughtful, intelligent, seeking my best. He developed a faith in God after a time in the wilderness, making it that much stronger than if he had simply "followed the program" he had been raised with.
I knew that it was important to share my past with him sooner, rather than later. I felt it only fair that he know exactly what he was entering into. Little did I expect that his objection would be on the grounds of his children's safety. Their safety never was a question in my mind. I thought about his need to understand the spiritual implications involved, his disturbance with my having many alters and what that would mean (am I crazy?), I was even prepared for skepticism. Instead, he believed everything I said and immediately thought about what it would mean for his kids. Again...reasons to love him.
Now, however, I have to struggle with the very real possibility that he may end this relationship before it even begins. I have no idea what I can say, if anything, that will provide him the peace that he needs to continue in this, sans fear for his children's safety.
In a current conversation, he is asking me to go back IN the group undercover in an effort to bring them down. Amazing man that he is, he spent hours today reading about ritual abuse. He continues to believe that it happens, but finds it difficult to accept that there is NO WAY to prove it. I don't understand all of what God is attempting to do here, but He's doing something. My task is to allow God to continue His work without interfering. And without getting defensive or feeling the necessity of proving myself.
In turning to my pastor for prayer covering, the word that he gave was, "Very slow is very Good." What does that mean? My idea of slow, others' ideas of slow, and God's idea of slow are very different. I am beginning to realize that perhaps the reason God brought D and I together is to open his eyes to something more. His sense of injustice would be invaluable in the fight against this atrocity.
It enrages me that I am having to pay for what was done to me by possibly losing this relationship. My father, mother, and other members of the cult are the ones who sinned and I am the one who suffers...first by having a husband who was involved, now by possibly losing a potentially great relationship. Shouldn't I be reaping the rewards of loving the Lord? I recognize that I share in the sufferings of Christ...where's the ressurection life that also comes?
Friday, March 13, 2009
Thursday, March 12, 2009
The Ultimate Betrayal
How's this for total bullshit? I just came to realize, via many parts inside, that my now ex-husband, R, was part of the abuse I experienced. What a fucking asshole! The pieces are not all in place but this much I know...he knew what was taking place and helped make it happen. They're also starting to let me in on knowledge about our whole marriage being a set up by "the group."
Some of you may understand this and others may not, but people involved in the cult are at in levels of society, including doctors, lawyers, police officers, and the military. They are also in other jobs that carry less power, such as blue collar positions. Such was the case with R. We worked together and I was married at the time. We knew of each other, but didn't know each other directly. One day I left for lunch and got about a half mile from the office when I realized my tire was flat. Great! Just great! What to do now? Walk back to the office in high heels? Call for assistance? Just then, R pulled up. He just happened to be going to lunch at the same time, to the same place, taking the same route. He gallantly changed my tire and as we talked, it turned out that we had both gone to the same high school, he grew up in a Dutch Christian Reformed Church, his parents and mine square danced together. It was uncanny how many things we had in common. And of course sharing the stories from high school just fostered the connection between us. It didn't take long for him to seduce me, although he'd likely say I pursued him. What I believe now is that long-hidden programming was triggered that made it impossible for me to resist the temptation to be with him. I quickly divorcd my first husband and moved in with R. Or rather, he moved in with me.
The courtship was volatile, filled with low-level phyiscal violence, verbal abuse, and alcohol. But what I thought was love that I felt, was actually fear. On some level, I knew that I was SUPPOSED to be with him. If I had known then what I know now, and if I had had the personal relationship with God that I have now, I would have run for the hills as fast as I could. I remember sitting outside our villa on our honeymoon and saying to myself, "This was a huge mistake and now I'm locked into it." I had no skills or ability to set limits and boundaries, so I didn't know how to stand up for myself. After years of being abused by my family, I didn't know that I COULD say no to something. I thought I had to go along with the program.
Within a few months, I was on a prescription tranquilizer to help with my nerves, which were beginning to fray. The fighting was constant and I felt hopeless that things would change. There were many times I grabbed a kitchen knife and seriously thought about cutting myself. I had not been a self-injurer at any other time in my life, but it was looking better all the time. Looking back, I think that the cutting would have been an attempt to strengthen the dissociation and get me "back on track." Six month after the wedding, we got into a fight and I took the whole prescription, which landed me in the hospital ER. I was given the option to stay for a week in the psych ward, which I gladly accepted (how many people WANT to be there?) because it meant a week of peace in my life. While there, I started to learn new skills that would allow me to say "no" and make choices that were better for me.
My counseling continues for two years and at one point, I was feeling suicidal again. I distinctly remember sitting on the floor in the dark of my bedroom and thinking I had a choice: I could kill myself or I could reach out to my pastor's wife, C, whom I barely knew. Thank God I chose the latter. When I met with her, she explained that God is intimately involved in my life and the struggles we have are not against flesh and blood but against the spiritual forces in the world. It was as if a lightswitch was flipped and things made sense. I didn't suddenly remember the ritual abuse, but I at least began to understand that God was personal...huge for me.
Needless to say, the changes in my life were not well-received by R. When our church went through a major split, he wanted to go with the "others," effectively removing the influence of my pastor and his wife, W&C. I fought tooth and nail to stay put and he capitulated. At every turn, my personal and spiritual grown were challenged. I was accused by R of being in a cult (how ironic), taking the spiritual things too far, discounting any revelation or understanding that the Lord provided.
There was a time when I began cutting myself. I remember it started just as a tiny scratch, wondering how it would feel. It escalated to doing it every day. Eventually, it became something that I did to either prevent dissociating or to enhance the dissociation to protect myself and other parts. It was also a way of punishing myself for perceived wrongs, and at other times to keep from physically lashing out at others, R in particular. Most of the time, he turned a blind eye to the cutting. When he did pay attention, he was angry and told me I was crazy. He cared little that he was provoking and eliciting that kind of response. In no way am I absolving myself of the responsibility for my choice. It took me a long time to realize that I really did have a choice to handle things in a different way.
Over the years, trauma and stress would trigger a switch and other parts would make their presence known. Whenever this happened, he would became angry and unresponsive. He reinforced the incident that caused the switch in the first place. At times, a younger part would come forward and he would treat them like an adult, rather than the 4 or 5 year old that they were. As memories would surface, he would discount and discredit them. At times, he would tell me I was crazy and should be locked up. He consistently defended my family, saying what good people they were. There were times that my mother unexpectedly appeared at my door and he invited her in.
There were other connections, as well. His mother kept my mother up-to-date about goings on in my/our lives. When our house was being built, his brother took both mothers to see the house in progress. Even though we had buried a Bible in the foundation and the house wasn't even complete, I felt an evil presence before we even moved in. Now I understand why. R's brother bowled and drank with my brother every week, so another source of information was available to my family.
Every time I made progress, he would make attempts to set me back. At times, he aligned himself with a family in our church who were Satanic plants, bent on destroying the ministry there. He repeatedly chose this person over me until he realized that their time was limited and the Lord was forcing them out. Then his tune changed. I remember during one time of group prayer in which R was involved, it very clearly came to me that there were spirits of blasphemy and degradation present. I kept it to myself but shared it with my pastor's wife later. Since we didn't know what Randy was involved with, these spirits didn't make sense and it seemed that I misheard. Now...they make perfect sense.
Since we've split, R has made feeble attempts to keep in contact. A text here or there about a friend's health, asking me to watch the dog while he goes out of town, showing up at church out of the blue, making sure he knows that he broke up with his girlfriend. I give him no information.
I am very grateful to the parts who finally were able to step forward and tell me the truth. While R's influence and ability to cue programming was diminished a long time ago, being fully cognizant of his ploys makes life so much less complicated. It is easy to see through his tricks and there is no grey area...it's all black and white for me now. There was a time when I loved him, but that time has passed. I realize that "there but for the grace of God go I." There is no difference between he and I. Both raised in the cult. God saw fit to rescue me from hell. I don't know why me and not Randy, but I do pray that he would come to know Christ during this lifetime.
Some of you may understand this and others may not, but people involved in the cult are at in levels of society, including doctors, lawyers, police officers, and the military. They are also in other jobs that carry less power, such as blue collar positions. Such was the case with R. We worked together and I was married at the time. We knew of each other, but didn't know each other directly. One day I left for lunch and got about a half mile from the office when I realized my tire was flat. Great! Just great! What to do now? Walk back to the office in high heels? Call for assistance? Just then, R pulled up. He just happened to be going to lunch at the same time, to the same place, taking the same route. He gallantly changed my tire and as we talked, it turned out that we had both gone to the same high school, he grew up in a Dutch Christian Reformed Church, his parents and mine square danced together. It was uncanny how many things we had in common. And of course sharing the stories from high school just fostered the connection between us. It didn't take long for him to seduce me, although he'd likely say I pursued him. What I believe now is that long-hidden programming was triggered that made it impossible for me to resist the temptation to be with him. I quickly divorcd my first husband and moved in with R. Or rather, he moved in with me.
The courtship was volatile, filled with low-level phyiscal violence, verbal abuse, and alcohol. But what I thought was love that I felt, was actually fear. On some level, I knew that I was SUPPOSED to be with him. If I had known then what I know now, and if I had had the personal relationship with God that I have now, I would have run for the hills as fast as I could. I remember sitting outside our villa on our honeymoon and saying to myself, "This was a huge mistake and now I'm locked into it." I had no skills or ability to set limits and boundaries, so I didn't know how to stand up for myself. After years of being abused by my family, I didn't know that I COULD say no to something. I thought I had to go along with the program.
Within a few months, I was on a prescription tranquilizer to help with my nerves, which were beginning to fray. The fighting was constant and I felt hopeless that things would change. There were many times I grabbed a kitchen knife and seriously thought about cutting myself. I had not been a self-injurer at any other time in my life, but it was looking better all the time. Looking back, I think that the cutting would have been an attempt to strengthen the dissociation and get me "back on track." Six month after the wedding, we got into a fight and I took the whole prescription, which landed me in the hospital ER. I was given the option to stay for a week in the psych ward, which I gladly accepted (how many people WANT to be there?) because it meant a week of peace in my life. While there, I started to learn new skills that would allow me to say "no" and make choices that were better for me.
My counseling continues for two years and at one point, I was feeling suicidal again. I distinctly remember sitting on the floor in the dark of my bedroom and thinking I had a choice: I could kill myself or I could reach out to my pastor's wife, C, whom I barely knew. Thank God I chose the latter. When I met with her, she explained that God is intimately involved in my life and the struggles we have are not against flesh and blood but against the spiritual forces in the world. It was as if a lightswitch was flipped and things made sense. I didn't suddenly remember the ritual abuse, but I at least began to understand that God was personal...huge for me.
Needless to say, the changes in my life were not well-received by R. When our church went through a major split, he wanted to go with the "others," effectively removing the influence of my pastor and his wife, W&C. I fought tooth and nail to stay put and he capitulated. At every turn, my personal and spiritual grown were challenged. I was accused by R of being in a cult (how ironic), taking the spiritual things too far, discounting any revelation or understanding that the Lord provided.
There was a time when I began cutting myself. I remember it started just as a tiny scratch, wondering how it would feel. It escalated to doing it every day. Eventually, it became something that I did to either prevent dissociating or to enhance the dissociation to protect myself and other parts. It was also a way of punishing myself for perceived wrongs, and at other times to keep from physically lashing out at others, R in particular. Most of the time, he turned a blind eye to the cutting. When he did pay attention, he was angry and told me I was crazy. He cared little that he was provoking and eliciting that kind of response. In no way am I absolving myself of the responsibility for my choice. It took me a long time to realize that I really did have a choice to handle things in a different way.
Over the years, trauma and stress would trigger a switch and other parts would make their presence known. Whenever this happened, he would became angry and unresponsive. He reinforced the incident that caused the switch in the first place. At times, a younger part would come forward and he would treat them like an adult, rather than the 4 or 5 year old that they were. As memories would surface, he would discount and discredit them. At times, he would tell me I was crazy and should be locked up. He consistently defended my family, saying what good people they were. There were times that my mother unexpectedly appeared at my door and he invited her in.
There were other connections, as well. His mother kept my mother up-to-date about goings on in my/our lives. When our house was being built, his brother took both mothers to see the house in progress. Even though we had buried a Bible in the foundation and the house wasn't even complete, I felt an evil presence before we even moved in. Now I understand why. R's brother bowled and drank with my brother every week, so another source of information was available to my family.
Every time I made progress, he would make attempts to set me back. At times, he aligned himself with a family in our church who were Satanic plants, bent on destroying the ministry there. He repeatedly chose this person over me until he realized that their time was limited and the Lord was forcing them out. Then his tune changed. I remember during one time of group prayer in which R was involved, it very clearly came to me that there were spirits of blasphemy and degradation present. I kept it to myself but shared it with my pastor's wife later. Since we didn't know what Randy was involved with, these spirits didn't make sense and it seemed that I misheard. Now...they make perfect sense.
Since we've split, R has made feeble attempts to keep in contact. A text here or there about a friend's health, asking me to watch the dog while he goes out of town, showing up at church out of the blue, making sure he knows that he broke up with his girlfriend. I give him no information.
I am very grateful to the parts who finally were able to step forward and tell me the truth. While R's influence and ability to cue programming was diminished a long time ago, being fully cognizant of his ploys makes life so much less complicated. It is easy to see through his tricks and there is no grey area...it's all black and white for me now. There was a time when I loved him, but that time has passed. I realize that "there but for the grace of God go I." There is no difference between he and I. Both raised in the cult. God saw fit to rescue me from hell. I don't know why me and not Randy, but I do pray that he would come to know Christ during this lifetime.
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