reply to post by CallmeRaskolnikov
My position very much sucks. I'm the kind of person whose heavily preferred mental state is total acuity and clarity. I was a double science major
so that should say something as well. There's not much "cute and fluffy" about me. I have a very long list of "flaky stuff" that I abhor and am
severely reality based (comes from mental mind games that my mother used to try to play on me in "altering" my history). I don't like ambiguity
and am relentless at seeking facts. That would be my self profile and it should be pretty plain to see in about every post that I make her. Now
stick someone like me in my particular position where I know that I was, in fact, brainwashed. I'm in hell. The one good thing is that I am all
those things and one hell of a researcher to boot. Never looked at my own life before with a fine lens but I am now.
I do have a link to that specific song from the tape on another thread in the Gray Area. It is absolutely a hypnotic based trigger. I am loathe to
link it here because I don't know what lilultra has been through. Listening to it is pretty unsettling for some people. It's freaking weird and I
hate its existence to be honest. I'd prefer being nuts because then there are pills for that. It'd make it a lot easier. The dialogue that has
been gleaned from that particular song is this:
doesn't make any difference what the experience was....might be something big, might be something small..might be something...something..it doesn't
matter. absolutely related to...your job...or school......personal experience...get into as deeply as possible...what were you wearing? ...recall it
as vividly as you can...just bury it...the pride...the justified pride that you have...this is power...it's good.
Not creepy at all. To me, I think it is most likely a fail safe against remembering. The above basically is suggesting that I visualize an
experience to the greatest extent possible and then burying it with a glossy coat of pride and sense of power. The lines of the chorus are:
Then I remember When the moon was full and bright I would take you in the darkness And do the tango in the night
I'd be also lying if I said that hearing that particular song didn't make me feel powerful. Not good. Flashing lights are used for interrogation
along with musical bombardment. I did find that information in my research. It was used against prisoners in Iraq so that's a pretty uncomfortable
thing to consider. My grandfather was military intelligence for an unknown length of time (his military records and AF-11 are heavily truncated but
mentions of Holabird, military intel, DSS and being subject to an ebi are all still within the whopping 48 pages given post FOIA request from his 30
year career). I have two options really. 1. Blame the government, whose motive would be spurious or 2. Blame my significantly abusive family for
using those techniques on me to cover for their own misbehavior. I tend towards the second because there is actually a motive there. I'd make for
an unlikely Manchurian candidate as I would have been classified as 4-H due to bleeding disorders and juvenile RA. I'd make for a really gimpy
assassin.
I was definitely groomed for the military. My summer vacations were filled with military touches but I tend to see it as being kind of like a plumber
trying to teach his son his trade. My grandfather just happened to have been a director of training at one point in his career. I'd also make for a
terrible sleeper because the first thing that people note about me is my military level posture. By the time I was in the 6th grade, I was singled out
for it. I can't even stand in line normally. I stand "at ease". I'd never pass as a "Betty Homemaker". His intentions on the grooming were
overt. He wanted me to follow his own career path and perhaps surpass him. Promised that I would make it into the USAF with no problems and he'd
pull strings to fast track me into officers' school. There was nothing secret about those things.
The one thing that I've definitely learned from all of this is that my parents are incredible liars. You know it's bad when you have to blackmail
your own parent to get information and I had very good threats that would've resulted in, at the least, jail time, loss of property, and loss of
future expected income. I had him nailed to the wall. He gave me one year, said that's when something happened to me and that I was living with my
grandfather. Wouldn't say what. What I do know is that my parents went from financially struggling to being able to buy a new home across the US
plus money to start a business, courtesy of that same grandfather. That doesn't look good either. His admission to this was a bit of coup though as
I had heard all my life that we moved from State A to State B. Instead, it turns out I lived in San Francisco with my grandfather for about a 1 1/2
between those two states.
No reason was given for denying me access to my own medical records. No PCP so that root is a bust. Nobody has been forthcoming with anything. Like
I said, already dipped my toes into blackmail and blackmail is not in my nature.
I'm really very cautious about looking at external sites such as those because they tend to operate on a foregone conclusion. I'd rather come to my
own conclusions about what happened to me to avoid the possibility of so-called "false memory". Luckily, I'm good at these kind of puzzles. Just
never thought to turn it on myself. I've dug up a great deal.
lilultra--I like your poem very much. Feel that way a lot. Don't give up hope on actually feeling feeling (sounds so strange). I still bounce to
dissociative states but not as severely as I once did. I am remembering things and with that came feeling. It was a bit messy for a bit because I
wasn't used to it but I got the hang of it. I can cry now when I'm sad. You'll get there, too. I have a wicked good memory, too. I remember
telephone numbers of friends from 30 years ago, lol. It just makes the not remembering so much worse because of that contrast, doesn't it?
I was taught by my mom to hide things. If someone asks "how are you?", you say "I'm fine, thank you, and you?" with a nice smile on your face,
no lower teeth showing, eyes crinkled up a little to show its true...even if the family dog got run over that morning. Getting their children to have
automated responses to intrusive and risky (to the abusive parent) is not uncommon with abusers. It's all about appearances. You know what's funny
though? My jaw about dropped when you talked about your grandpa on his death bed. When my grandfather was dying, I was prevented from seeing or even
talking to him. However, my mom told me that he was screaming for me in the last few weeks of life and begging everyone to protect and save me.