Articles ยป
Surviving in Wonderland
Written by Editor   
Monday, 10 September 2001 16:32

Survivorship became a badge of honor, a crown of courage, and those who wore it, wore it with moral rectitude and outrage and pride, victimhood, and pain. Do you have the courage to heal? Are you a secret survivor? Did you know that emotional incest is a hidden epidemic? Do you even know what emotional incest is?

Co-dependents anonymous, adult children of alcoholics, incest survivors anonymous, and other twelve step groups sprang up over night. America was healing the child within and taking one day at a time as they brought their stuffies to comfort them at national conferences in their pajama'd feet. Sexual abuse was redefined to a look or a touch or a partially clothed baby picture. The new definition brought survivors in droves and tales of abuse spread throughout the country and everybody agreed, pain is pain, the only way out is through, and they just knew it had to get worse before it could get better.

Survivors were applauded for being strong in the broken places from betrayal trauma as they disclosed more and more behind the closed doors of their therapy sessions, and they were encouraged to journal their thoughts, practice guided imagery, undergo sodium amytal or hypnotic interviews in search for their past, as they participated in survivor support groups, rallies, and hands across America. Some were urged to break with their families of origin or sue or press criminal charges as whores of the court lined up to testify as expert witnesses.

Soon, a few survivors started revealing, in barely audible whispers, they had multiple personalities too and another wave of books hit the stores as rabbits howled and personalities shattered and first person plurals told their stories from the inside out. As the number of personalities grew so came the stories of horrific abuse while a few researchers claimed MPD was the most under diagnosed mental disorder in America and paraded their patients at conferences specializing in the diagnosis and treatment of MPD.

By then there were articles and books describing multiple personalities, that mysterious internal landscape, the great inbetween, with its internal self helpers and persecutory alters, it's infants and children, it's ancients and animals and spirits, and lest we forget, the perp; that paper-doll cut-out of the abuser whose job it was to remind the survivor not to tell.

Triggers were abundant, a smell, a color, a flower, or some seemingly innocuous letter penned with words like "I love you". Nursery rhymes were no longer cute and fiction held darker underlying meanings. Survivors huddled in fear their agoraphobia growing by the day.

Not surprisingly the implications took on a life of their own as whisperings of satanic ritual abuse began surfacing. Gone were the days of chaotic multiplicity, a random result of chronic childhood abuse. Gone were the days of scared child alters and mute animals. In its place were complex systems with interwoven universes as more and more papers were written and presented describing internal programmers, those alters planted by satanic cults to reprogram or keep existing programs in place. There were noise programs and recorder programs, sex programs and courier programs, spin programs and self-destruct programs.

It was time to come out of the darkness and break the circle of satanic ritual abuse. "I'm an MPD and SRA survivor too," some fearfully disclosed in closed rooms where survivors are wont to gather, sharing their secrets and their pain as their many voices were explained by claims of satanic ritual abuse.

Such stories were surely to hit the media and they did. Talk show hosts incredulously queried their guests on America's stages, people who'd claimed they were both baby breeders and high priestesses for intergenerational satanic cults, while the audience looked on in morbid fascination and curiosity, their guests never quite explaining how they could be both. Wouldn't the two be mutually exclusive?

These new survivors struggled with a cacophony of memories as their daily lives and once vanilla abuse memories faded into the background amidst the noise and clutter among graphical visions of ritual sacrifice and baby breeding, torture and cannibalism. Their waking hours filled with fear as they left their jobs and families, divorced their husbands and lost their children to protective custody, only to reside in seclusion, secretly cutting or burning that hateful skin from their once unmarred bodies, the only visible tribute to their internal pain and chaos. Wondering if they had completely lost their minds or whether they deserved to live and how their lives had managed to spin so completely out of control.

Their treators listened in empathic unison struck by the horror of the visions their patients painted, a vicarious nightmare in an ever-maddening gloom, yet urging them to dig deeper and deeper. They held their patients' pain and wrote books and poetry claiming there was too much pain for their patients to keep as they rushed to conferences and bookstores furtively trying to educate themselves on the occult and its workings in hopes of finding clues or patterns that matched the mapping of their patients' internal psyches, looking for something that might reveal the antidote or code, maybe even a key to free their patients from the destructive downward spiral.

As patients began to disclose of beings from other planets, alien entities or angels and the long since dead who channeled their thoughts and others went from being SRA survivors to holocaust survivors these treators began to wonder if their patients' memories might not be real after all. Just perhaps they were screen memories.

The occult books had most assuredly led them to Adam Weishaupt and his Bavarian Illuminati and the Freemasons that in turn led them to the American eugenics program and eventually Nazi Germany. A nation whose history was rife with occult underpinnings and just maybe, they speculated, the memories were screen memories after all.

Memories planted by Nazi mind control doctors who had been spirited to the US in the 1940s under codename Paperclip, who went by color-coded names in their think tanks and cover organizations, cooking up bizarre programs of torture as they planned for global domination in a world of Manchurian candidates.

Surely they were on to something; after all there was Bluebird, Artichoke, and MK-Ultra, with their LSD experiments, shock therapy, psychic driving, sound concussions, lobotomies, and implants. This surely explained the ever-growing lawsuits; the full frontal attack led by the CIA-infested FMSF, an organization whose purpose, some were certain, was a cover for pedophiles and their supporters.

Never mind those who hold such proclivities would be less interested in ruling the world and more interested in abusing a child. Never mind some of the very researchers who propelled some of these survivors into their journey into madness also participated in CIA sponsored activities involving controlling people's minds. Never mind the perpetual darkness and extreme pain these survivors now live in, regardless of whether their memories are true or not.

And so it went and so it goes. As the battle rages, survivors are left to roam in wonderland ... their own personal hell ... lost in the noise of the recovered memory debate.


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