Reality of my life at this point (dark subject Ritual Abuse)

Since I have finished my memoir and plan to get it published I know that my life is going to change. I always knew if I went public with my ritual abuse that I had to be strong enough and ready for the negativity and skeptics that will come with it. I have been visiting other blogs and web sites on RA as it is known and I have found that there are a lot of skeptics out there. A dose of skepticism isn't a bad thing. It becomes a bad thing when people who have survived horrific, horrendous trauma are put through another form of hell because people don't want to believe that such a thing happens. Or honestly there are people that want to make sure that things like this aren't proven. When a survivor comes forward there are people that will spend time trying to discredit the survivor. Writing this memoir and blog isn't about my being abused by a world wide conspiracy who is out to take over the world. There are web sites out there that discuss that. I am not saying that it isn't true. I am saying that for me I have no proof that those who were involved with the occult and committed my RA were involved in a world wide plot. I work in a field where facts and data are important. I have both facts and data on my RA.
I am appreciative of my memories that weren't suppressed or repressed. These memories support my recovered memories. After I stopped Ruth's inappropriate touching of me and the incident with the knifes occurred. Ruth made the decision to take down mine and my sister's bunk beds. She made me be in the bed on the right side of the room. I had asked her to please leave the bunk beds up because there was more room in our room with them up. I asked her to put the bunk beds where she put my bed now and she refused. Then that summer one of my brothers went into the attic to get something and there was a statue of St. Christopher with it's head off above my bed. My brother called down from the attic and told Ruth that there was a statue of St. Christopher with it's head off. He told Ruth he was going to bring it down and throw it out. Ruth became hysterical and said, "No leave it up there it needs to stay right where it is."  My brother thought this was ridiculous and said so. Facts; the occult bible reads from the right to the left. My memory of ceremonies is they are always on the right side of the darkness unless they are walking around the pentagram. All of my memories of the RA are in complete darkness with the light of the moon or candles if there was any light at all. When they put hexes or curses on people they use statues of Saints and take their heads off. This is a verifiable story that if and when someone investigates it will be confirmed. That is one of the things I am so happy about because my story can be taken apart but the facts are facts. The reason Ruth didn't want the bunk beds on the right side of the room is because my sister would have had the hex or curse put on her as well.                                                        

I know I was programmed and I know that I was followed for most of my childhood. There would always be this person with blond shaggy hair who was about 13 to 18 years old who would just pop up places along my paper route as a kid. He showed up even when a friend came with me. I did that paper route from the time I was 8 years old until the time I was 15 years old. It scared the heck out of me. I felt paranoid and fearful of everyone and everything. I became hyper-vigilant about my safety and always knew where I was and where I could escape to if I needed to escape. I also carried bottles with bleach in my paper bag in case I was attacked I was going to squirt it into the person's eyes. This blond person never said a thing to me he would pop out between two houses and just stare at me. It was never the same two houses. This just reinforced my paranoia and fearfulness. I think he was part of trying to keep me quite. I also got into a car with a blond adult male when I was 17 years old. I don't remember talking to him. I just remember getting in to the car. We didn't say a word to each other and he drove me home. I don't remember telling him where I lived. I am sure this is because of traumatic amnesia or splitting. I was tested intensely to see if I had multiple personality disorder. It is know known as Dissociated Identity Disorder. There was never definitive proof of this but there has always been definitive proof of my traumatic amnesia. I do have some memories of what I call waking up in the middle of sexual abuse not knowing how I got there or how it even happened. I know I suffered from psychosis as a child and that could have been brought about due to medication, programing or both.                                                                          
 How I can prove I was programed is because after I had my first flashback/memory other memories and flashbacks came flooding in. One night I was trying to fall asleep and when I closed my eyes I saw a dark room. One the right side of the room was a desk and a man who was sitting at a the desk. He was wearing a white robe and he was bald. He didn't speak with his mouth to me he spoke telepathically and he told me to walk through the room and enter the other door. I immediately woke up and I knew that I had been programmed to become psychotic. I was in a panic and got up and went into the kitchen. Then I started having flashbacks of water I was being submerged into this water. Then I heard the programming; if you remember we will know, if you remember we will kill you and if you remember you will die. I was hysterical by now and I didn't know what to do. I had a good friend who was staying over to be with me because of all of the flashbacks. She was trying her best to keep me calmed down. We were sitting in my room talking and I got up to get a drink of water in the kitchen and for some reason I had left a knife with a wooden handle on the kitchen table. When I walked toward the kitchen and saw the knife the way the light hit it I felt a compulsion to pick up the knife and stab myself in the stomach.

That was it I called the priest at the Catholic Church and told him I needed him to pray over me and anoint me again. He told me that I was sick and needed to tell him where I was that he needed to take me to the mental hospital. I hung up on him. My friend called a couple of people who were part of my treatment team. Then we called a couple of my good friends. I was really convinced that I was programed to kill myself. I was terrified that if I didn't get help I would do it. My treatment team encouraged me to go to the hospital and tell them what was going on. My two friends came and picked me and and the friend staying with me stayed with the kids who thankfully were sound asleep. I went to the hospital and the psychiatrist treated me like I was severely mentally ill. I have a pentagram on my right shoulder and my right ankle. I showed it to him and he still didn't believe me. I asked him to call my therapist and my treatment team and he refused. He wanted to put me in restraints and my friends told him over their dead body. They told him that I had already suffered by being restrained in the arms and legs at RA ceremonies and they weren't going to let him traumatize me further. They reminded him that I made the choice to go there to protect myself. About 7 hours later the Psychiatrist came to my room and told me that when the Department of Social Services opens up he is going to have them go to my house and take my kids away from me. I started crying and my friends told him he had no reason to do that. Soon after that two people from my treatment team came in. When one of them realized I hadn't had my medication even though I asked for it she demanded to see the Psychiatrist. She told him he needed to call my therapist. She told him that everything I had told him was real it wasn't in my head. She made it perfectly clear that my diagnoses were panic disorder, PTSD and severe anxiety not any other mental illness. He told her that he didn't need to call my therapist. She told him she was going to see to it that my kids didn't get taken from me.
I was very lucky another Psychiatrist came on duty when I was there eight or nine hours. She came to get me to take me to her office to talk with her. I shared my story. I asked her if I could have my medication and she asked me the last time I had it. I told her I had, had no medication since I came in. She was surprised about that. I asked her to call Joan she was surprised that the other Psychiatrist hadn't done that already. I told her I wasn't mentally ill. I told her that I had refused to walk through the room into the other room and when I didn't do that I remembered the programing. Then I shared my concern about seeing the knife on the kitchen table. I shared that I was very afraid I would kill myself and I didn't want to do that. I didn't want to leave my children and I didn't want the assholes who did this to win. I showed her the pentagram on my right ankle and on my right shoulder. She told me she believed me. I started crying I asked her if she could admit me just overnight so I could sleep. I hadn't slept in over 36 hours. She told me that she didn't feel that ethically she could do that. She felt that it would put me at risk once the other psychiatrist came back on shift. She didn't want to risk me being admitted in to the psych ward and having my children taken away. She did speak to Joan and Joan came to see me and was furious at the first psychiatrist. I am so lucky I had two people with me there at all times. Joan was a big support and the second Psychiatrist was wonderful. I can understand being skeptic but how many people have pentagrams cut into their skin after the skin was pulled back so that they are only noticeable if you pull the skin back. The only other person I know is someone else who has been through what I have. The Psychiatrist and Joan felt that since I didn't harm myself the risk of me doing it was relatively low. Joan told me that she had been aware that at some point I would remember the programing. She told me how proud she was of me that I didn't do anything to harm myself.
My friends took turns the next couple of days being with me around the clock. Once I realized that I had won that they didn't make me do what I was programmed to do I was pretty happy with myself.  Joan had told me not to see anyone or go anywhere where I remembered where the RA happened. As I was remembering more RA I remembered exactly where some of it happened. I wasn't going to do anything like that even though I wanted to. Joan told me that I was at risk of over burdening my ego. Unfortunately I didn't listen to her I went with one of my friends to see a Priest who worked with survivors. I didn't see the harm in seeing him because I was wanting as much spiritual support as I could get. This Priest was very nice but my visiting with him did throw me for a loop. This visit made me remember several things that were very horrible. Things I won't write about right now. I called Joan after this visit and she made me come and see her. I shared with her what I remembered and she told me she had been told from the survivor she was consulting with that I would share stories like this. She told me that she was putting her foot down. She told me I wasn't allowed to do anything except take the kids to school, I couldn't watch the news, I couldn't read the newspaper, magazines, etc. She said I needed a break from these memories that I was pushing my ego too much. This was the time of the riots in CA because of the Rodney King beating. I had no knowledge of all of that for almost a  month. When Joan felt that I was doing better she told me that I could start watching the news again. I learned from that episode that I needed to not push myself that I was going to have memories and I needed them to come by themselves. I am very lucky I didn't do more harm to myself. I am very happy I had so many great people in my life to help me. So when someone investigates my story I will give them every single name of every single person who was aware of this. Facts are facts they don't lie. I feel so free to say I SURVIVED RA AND I HAVE A WONDERFUL LIFE. I AM NOT GOING TO KEEP MY MOUTH SHUT ANYMORE. Have a blessed evening, Rosie