In my experience, both physical and, for lack of a better term, astral abductions occur - with the astral being most prevalent. Usually if you are taken physically, it is what has been termed MILAB, or Military Abductions. That's a whole different subject for later. But it is entirely possible to be snatched by the cybergenetic creatures known as greys along with a smorgasbord of other entities. The trick is figuring out which is which.
What happens is this: the greys and reptilians etc. are located on fourth density, and have the ability to temporarily visit the third density (us). This is different than the 'bloodlines' information as presented by Icke and many other researchers. The DNA anchors the entity in that case and various rituals keep 'the door open' so to speak, such as SRA (Satanic Ritual Abuse) and using human blood and other acts of malevolence.
What happens on an astral abduction is that your essence, a template if you will, is taken from your third density form and moved to fourth density where 'time' is totally different. (Time is an illusion anyway). They do whatever it is they do, such as insert implants, do the usual exams, create screen memories, and so forth. Then you are returned to your third density body which incorporates the changes made while you were 'gone.' Occasionally the 'timing' is off when you are returned and you might experience missing hours, or in some cases, days. Wow, what a weird dream! Why is my right nostril bleeding onto my pillow? This has happened to me countless times. I have also had visits in the night, complete with physical paralysis and horrific pervading evil (there is no other way to describe the feeling). Later I'll get into some of the specific abduction memories I have, including meeting a baby. An example is that one night I grabbed something standing by my bed (I became extremely angry and apparently foiled the paralysis) and all hell broke loose.
Something flew, with a loud flapping sound, around my bedroom knocking things over and hissing. My dogs never moved. The next morning I awakened with the usual first thought: what an odd dream! Then I sat up and looked around and my end table and lamp were smashed on the floor, my dresser was knocked sideways with everything else on the floor! I can't help but think that was a winged reptilian. Who knows? I'm glad I avoided THAT little travel adventure (or did I).
I started posting in 1997 and used to write a lot on forums and in email lists. I started out on the C email list, then others. Suddenly forums were the big thing. I joined Kent Steadman's (RIP) Cyberspaceorbit forum, and interestingly enough was one of the first people to join Godlikeproductions when Elaine created it and separated it from Kent's forum. I think I was number thirteen at GLP!! That ended with the Christmas Massacre . . .
One mans demon is another mans reptilian. One persons angel is another persons 'Nordic' or Pleiadian (or whatever). I personally believe it's all the same thing - the names change to fit the 'times' in which we live.
My experiences started when I was a small child. A bit later, having joined the USAF, I found myself in Military Intelligence (an oxymoron - come on, you were thinking it) from 1974 until 1980. There are considerable periods during that six years, much of which was spent in the Middle and Far East, that I simply do not recall. And that was before I began to self-medicate. That particular fun-filled roller-coaster ride started at the end of my enlistment.
***********
Did he mention shape-shifting space lizards? What?
There was a time in 1995 when a lady I knew who was very psychic suddenly took me aside and told me I had a large entity attached to my back via a cord. We went outside into the back yard and she did her best to cut the cord and at the end of the day she said she could no longer 'see' this entity.
The next morning, and to this day, I have a cyst that won't go away no matter how many doctors squeeze it. !!! Right where she said the cord was attached . . .
That all happened after I took myself to the Veterans Administration Hospital here in town, in 1994 - to the ER - because I was overdosed with drugs and alcohol and had called a suicide hotline. The lady found out I was a Vietnam Era Veteran and told me about the VA and recommended I head to the Emergency Room. I completed an inpatient treatment lasting thirty days, and by some act of a higher power I got a counselor that understood and believed me when I told him of my abductions beginning in childhood, as well as a sneaking suspicion that I was in an MKULTRA program.
I do not recall anything before the third grade. Except for 'blinks' as I call them. Blinks are little cameo shots. A lot like flash cards, but with 'memories' such as *blink* a back porch, and *blink* that damned curved slide. A bit more on that later.
As mentioned, I was in the military from 1974 till 1980. Since 1980 I have repeatedly tried to self-destruct using drugs and alcohol. Before the military I was teaching bible studies! It seems to me now that religion is one of the ways they keep you in check psychically (believe this or you're gonna burn: forever)! But He loves you. (Kudos to George Carlin).
In any event after 1994 I bounced in and out of AA and NA for the next few years. I just couldn't get over ninety days without medicating myself.
This was an intense period of abductions and night visits. I would awaken paralyzed over and over again and have many memories of being taken to ships and being attacked repeatedly by reptilians and/or demons (again, pick a word) in my little house. I drank to make it stop. I used drugs to make it stop. Nothing made it stop. I even rehired Jesus for a while. No luck there.
In 1997 I OD'd again and ended up back at the VA. They sent me by ambulance to the Topeka VA which had a different sort of program. The attendant on the ambulance was a beautiful girl. I was in Topeka for thirty days and the day I got back home this girl called me. We were married two months later. It was my first (and last) marriage. I was 42. She was 27.
She had two kids, a boy seven years old, and a gap-toothed little girl of four. I fell in love with them both and stayed clean and sober for the next eight years. The wife had taken a job at the American Red Cross and was literally gone from Monday morning until Friday night every week traveling on blood donation runs.
Meanwhile I had gone back to school and gotten an Emergency Medical Technician education and began working on the ambulance. Then I got a position at the Red Cross myself. (Google Len Horowitz to learn about the RC. He is right in my opinion).
During all the time she was gone I had immersed myself in the internets.
I found Cyberspaceorbit, Branton, the Andromedans, the Cassiopaens, Montalk, and all the rest. I was reading Marciniak, Seth, and every other book I could find at the metaphysical bookstores. I still cannot read the book E.T. 101 without crying. Find it and read it. It is so uplifting.
Fast forward to 2005. Eight years clean and sober and two teenagers in the house!
During those eight years we had a plethora of paranormal activity in and around the house. We all had stories about it to share almost every morning. I'm positive the kids were being taken. My ex-wife had no problem with earth based entities and ghosts etc. but would not entertain the possibility of aliens. One night she came home and saw a group of short beings with big heads standing around me while I was asleep in bed. She said she 'talked' to them for hours but it wasn't words. It was more like pictures. After that she was I think she was a bit more open to the alien possibilities, but I'm not sure. (c:
During this time they got sneaky with me. I began (or continued to be) stalked in the astral plane, and taken non-physically. That continues to the present time. If they snagged me physically during those years I have no memory of it.
In August of 2005 the wife announced she was leaving in order to have quality time with her boyfriend and that we needed a divorce. Of course I agreed. Interestingly the two kids asked to stay with me. That was fine with me, as I love them and it wouldn't disrupt their schooling and networking.
In September of 2005 through a series of events my 89 year old Dad - the only living close biological relative I have along with a thirty year old daughter conceived during my military time - fell and broke his hip. He ended up in hospital for weeks then in ICU after heart attacks and strokes. I had to make the decision to unplug him that month. I had to make it alone. I miss my Dad. He would be happy to know that my genetic daughter, who lives in Delaware, has produced three wonderful grandchildren - with one currently in the oven! He also loved my stepchildren very much. My son is 21 and almost done with his tour in the Marine Corps. Afghanistan sucked pretty badly. My youngest daughter is 18 and graduated from High School early this year. She is currently employed (where else) at the Red Cross. She was also with me when my Dad passed, and we each held one of his hands. I'm proud of all of the kids.
I need to insert a short history here. My memories begin when I was eight years old, in the third grade. My Mother had - the only word is kidnapped - me from Ohio where I was born and brought me to Kansas. I recall bits and pieces of cement rooms and doctors - strange children that were deformed - and long, narrow underground tunnels through which I had to crawl.. She told me my Dad was dead. During this time I was molested often by her female friend Jean.
One day in the third grade I came out after school and my Dad was standing there. I knew him immediately. We started sneaking around after school getting ice cream and things like that. He told me I could tell my Mom he was here but I did not. I never did tell him about Jean.
On another occasion (still in the third grade) I got up late at night to go to the bathroom. This was always an adventure because I was terrified to go into my bedroom, and once there terrified to leave. That damned closet! And the faces in the windows. Anyway I got to the bathroom and found my Mom in a pool of blood. She had slit her wrists. I called my Dad and he and the police came and got me. I never heard from my Mother after that. One time while I was home on leave from overseas I recall putting on my dress uniform and going to my Mother's house. She answered the door and we talked for a few minutes. She said "I see they got you anyway." I still don't know what she meant, but I have my suspicions. My Dad found her obituary in 1983.
Also I might add that I have had cluster headaches, the worst headaches imaginable, much worse than migraines, since 1980 - when I got out of the military.
Ok back to 2005. After my wife left one month and my dad died the next month, I lasted approximately two more months before I bought a quart of whiskey. The two kids were still living with me and though I tried to hide it they knew. I started the same pattern I had in the nineties - clean for three or four months, going to meetings, then off again. I wanted to die.
So for almost five years I once again tried to self-destruct. I think it is called Omega programming. I refuse to submit.
On Christmas 2009 I made a conscious decision to live. I did not go to the VA this time, I detoxed at home alone with my dogs. (And The Cat. I'll be in deep trouble if I don't mention her!) I do go to the VA for PTSD. I feel safe out there at the VA. (?!?) I see a psychologist every week (she also believes me about the aliens and the rest - another higher power thing. I lent her a six-hour David Icke DVD set, and later found that she began buying his books, among other things Is that awesome or what!!).
Two years ago I was declared totally disabled by Social Security. I am barely making it on the money I get. The VA also declared me totally disabled but won't pay me because I am already getting Social Security.
I am 55. I went for disability due to a blown out back, the headaches, a fused right wrist (I am right handed) and then we have the other little problems. PTSD, major depression, severe anxiety attacks, and things like that. For a while the VA had me on so many meds I was a zombie. When I sobered up and cleaned up at Christmas 2009 I developed side effects from some of the meds. I told them I was done being a lab rat, and they could keep their meds. My psychologist agreed that cognitive therapy was best for me because of the side effects, and also because she doesn't believe in medicating the problem. I was doing that myself with the drugs and alcohol and it wasn't particularly working out. Now I'm only on a mild med for depression and also as a feeble attempt to stop smoking. I have alprazolam but try not to take it. I am fully aware of benzo hell.
So. I decided to begin posting again on the internet. I want to know what happened and is happening to me. I want to experience happiness and joy despite the dracos, greys, clones, TPTB, discarnates, PLF's (programmed life forms) ghosts, ghouls, and American Idol!
All of my abduction experiences have been terrifying except for one. The one time I wasn't paralyzed first and in absolute terror, with an underlying sense of pervasive evil, was as follows.
I was walking down a path toward a ramp that led across a short stretch of water to a floating disc. There were several beings behind me. I say beings because I never saw them; I was constrained from turning around - but I knew that they were there.
I was prompted up the ramp and into the disc. Once inside, I looked around (but not behind) and saw equipment with blinking lights. I wasn't exactly pushed - prompted is the best word - across the vessel to the far side where I saw a sort of crib or incubator - it's hard to describe - inside which was a very small child. I recall the child but not the facial features. I was - again - prompted to reach out and hold both of the child's hands with mine, and did so. No, no, I was prompted. Cross your arms this way making an X and hold hands. I did so and was immediately totally immersed in what can only be described as an electrical current. It pulsed top down throughout my entire body.
I then became aware that I was in my own bed, with the electrical current still pulsating through my body. It continued for another minute or so and then subsided. I felt no fear at any time during this experience.
It was completely different than all my other experiences such as the one with the winged draco I related earlier in this piece.
I have not had a physical experience for several years, until last night. I often, however, have astral abductions and manipulations of the dreamstate, both astral and aetheric.
Last night I once again apparently took a little side trip. I recall nothing of it aside from the very first part. It was precisely like the dozens of previous experiences I have had, except that this time my memory was screened very well. All I recall is awakening completely paralyzed, trying to scream or cry out and producing only the well-remembered croaking sounds. I then remember floating upward. That's it - it ends there. *sigh*
As far as physical marks of any kind, this time I can find nothing. Many times in the past, after an experience, I had a scrape down the left side of my abdomen across the ribcage. I have no clue why.
As I mentioned above, I have had similar escapades since my memory begins in the third grade.
Staying up all night - I never could sleep. And then I awaken every hour or so. I just sit here on the computer all night, reading things and now beginning to post again (c:
During the day, I try to stay as active as possible. The weather often allows me to ride my motorcycle, and I enjoy putting around in the wind. But then, night falls . . . many times I have a feeling of being watched at night. I catch 'them' out of the corner of the eye - and I usually just say 'may I help you with something?' (c: I get the feeling during the day as well, but mostly at night.
One weird thing that happens is that when I am driving (hasn't happened yet on the 'cycle) I get some sort of time slip or glitch - like I just went a hundred yards suddenly or something. It is always on the highway, normally with few or no other cars around.
At night, sometimes I get spun in my computer chair. The dogs will stare at one spot, and begin growling and barking. It is usually the same spot. The Cat also stares at it. I think it is a portal of some kind. When I stand in it my hair raises and I feel presences. I'm well versed in Protection (knowledge is the ultimate protection). I've learned all kinds of things over the years. Eastern mantras, Wicca (I personally do not believe in rituals), Druid teachings, and all kinds of wizard stuff like that. But ya gotta sleep sometime . . .
When you learn who your creators were, and then that you've been genetically engineered, and that it is all lessons, and karmic debt, and that there is a good chance we are an experiment, it is hard to really believe in the balance - that there are good guys here and out there as well. And I'm having a hell of a time knowing who to pray to and ask for help.
"There is a principle which is a bar against all information, which is proof against all arguments and which can not fail to keep a man in everlasting ignorance - that principle is contempt prior to investigation."
~ Herbert Spencer
"A mind is like a parachute. It doesn't work if it is not open."
~ Frank Zappa
I once had a Book that seemed to answer all of my questions. I carried it with me everywhere I went. I even taught classes about it. The Book itself said it was the only true source of information. The more I studied it, I mean really read it and studied it, comparing it to other Books (which was tacitly forbidden in the Book) the more I discovered that most of it was a crock of - well - rabbit-shit. Not that there weren't good ideas and morals in parts of the Book - all sources of disinformation contain Truth - but I came to realize that most of it was an horrific blood-stained evil chronicle of terrorism, genocide, and eugenics. Untold millions of people have been killed because of that Book.
So, I'd be careful reducing my World Paradigm into a neat little box because I read just - one - book.
Once I allowed myself to seek answers outside of the Religion Box, information began appearing in all sorts of places.
I guess you'd have had to have been through the shit-filled rabbit hole yourself to recognize the smell. And they all smell alike. As well, they all seem to lead straight back to the same Source. As with any brier patch, there are many entrances and exits. Sometimes one is born inside the hole. Other times one is caught up in the brier patch seemingly by accident; the draft - a brush with real corruption - or an unfair personal tragedy that should not have happened, but did.
A few months back, on a Saturday, I walked out of my bedroom into the living room and was bathed with a light so bright that I had to squint at the wall clock. I saw that it said two o'clock and thought, "Well, hell! I can't believe I slept until two!"
My next memory is standing in my living room in light so bright I had to squint at the wall clock. I saw that it said four o'clock and thought, "Well I'll be damned, I slept until four!" Then I walked back into my bedroom and crawled into bed.
When I awakened, I got up and headed for the living room. It was daylight, and I looked at the wall clock and saw that it was ten o'clock, and also noted that my ex-room-mate was sitting on the couch. I sheepishly told him that I couldn't believe I had slept an entire day away. He said, "What are you talking about?" I told him that I had gotten up at two and four the previous day, and had apparently gone back to bed. He looked at me oddly and said, "Dude, you came home from your meeting last night about eleven and were in bed at one-thirty when I came down for some coffee. You were on your computer most of the day yesterday."
Ok -that one isn't so bad, and can be explained several different ways. I don't think it sounds like greys or their ilk, and have tentatively opted for MILAB. Having read Greenbaum, Helmut Lammer, Eve Lorgen, and pretty much everything else I can find about the subject I can only guess that I had an unscheduled two-hour vacation - somewhere.
I don't sleep much, and tend to stay up late online, sometimes until dawn. Recently I was awake at three-thirty a.m. and had an Icke interview going and was trying to pay attention but kept nodding off in my chair. Ok, this is weird, and I know it. I couldn't make this up. Suddenly I was choking; I couldn't breathe. I tried to take a drink of coffee but it wouldn't go down and I had an intense pain in my throat. I was choking! Having worked on the ambulance in the past, I gave myself the Heimlich maneuver. I coughed up an object and it clattered on the floor.
When I got my breath, I bent down and picked it up. It felt like a piece of plastic about an inch long. Huh? I turned on the light . . . and . . .
It was the DELETE key from my keyboard. Yep, there was the hole. I popped it back in (it took a minute) and then tried to get it back out. Couldn't do it. Maybe with a little bitty screwdriver or something thin, but not with my fingers.
Needless to say, I don't recall taking out the DELETE key at all. I was nodding off, then I was choking.
I told you it was weird . . .
As far as conclusions, I don't have any. And you know what? I didn't even connect the fact that it was the DELETE key until later in the day. To DELETE me?! Oh shit. Was it a warning? Because I'm writing again? I don't know. But I'm more hyper-alert than before, if that's even possible.
But none of my experiences, including the last two, have made me feel crazy. Mostly it pisses me off. (c: It's also nice to have a government psychologist who insists I'm not crazy as well.
As a side note, I got an email from a fellow veteran. He went to the VA for a normal doctors appointment with his PCP, which we have regularly. He answered the standard questions about smoking and then the Big Three: Do you feel like harming yourself? Do you feel like harming someone else? Do you feel threatened? He answered yes on question three; I think we all do, I know I do. The VA reported him to Homeland Security and the County rescinded his concealed carry permit. Most veterans are heavily armed. When I got straight this time I decided that I no longer needed an arsenal - if I can't take care of it with whatever is at hand then so be it. I sold my AK-47 and .45 and made a mortgage payment. I - um - do have a lot of knives. (c; Paranoia will destroya - unless there is a reason. I'm guessing stabbing a reptilian would just piss him off. (c: But I did grab one once. Yep, sure did. I think.
If the latest two episodes were indeed warnings, well, whomever it is, keep on keeping on, because I'm not gonna shut up. Maybe I'm a threat to the two people who will accidentally find this blog!
My first memories are of cement rooms, doctors, disfigured children, and a image I cannot get rid of consisting of a curved slide. Crawling through long underground tunnels. Night time terrors, and faces in the windows. Large lizards in my closet. Other things. My teddy bear was alive, and I knew that he'd finally say something, but he never did. My first stepmother, the one who threw me into the snow with all my belongings (fourth grade) threw my bear away. I also had a dream about her, wherein she chased me all around the house, and turned into what I then called a T-Rex in the laundry room.
Maybe somebody just dropped me on my head when I was little. (c: I have a large scar on the back of my head, and another large scar on my forehead.
It's interesting to note that I have boxes of baby pictures (from my Dad's belongings after he passed in 2005) and pictures of me on a tricycle and in a suit, and also in a Cub Scout uniform from when I was living with my mom - during the third grade. There are no other pictures of me between baby and the Scouts, aside from one: a picture of me with my first grade class. Every picture from the third grade on shows the scar on my forehead.
I'm thinking that this is quite enough for a first post, and if you made it this far, thanks!
