I love puzzles.
That is why I worked solving people for free for over twenty years using my intuitive sight and worked very hard to learn empathic abilities.
The most intriguing puzzle you will ever face is your own soul.
I was naturally the wild child. A daredevil who rode her bike into pricker bushes, laughed in the face of her mother’s madness. The one who smiled to your face, told you to fuckoff, Honored her chores but did not adopt your way of thinking or ever have issues with loyalty making her desire to be your subordinate. I had raised two children before I was thirteen and nobody was going to tell me anything.
My intellect was even sharper than theirs and I was self educated to the point I lived in the self-help and psych section of the library by third grade trying to solve my mother. My headstrong curiosity and logic caused me a great deal of issues growing up in a strict church.
I seriously identify with young Sheldon.
I have nothing against faith as long as it does not hurt others or cause harm to someones free will, to their ability to love themselves, or any of those vital parts of our being. This story violated all of the above and I loathed them for it.
I have since released most though I found myself getting angry writing this because I cannot stand someone feeding on another’s pain or manipulating souls.
My father (let’s call him Dracula) Not the man in the above photo) Is a textbook clusterB something or other. He hides it behind this gentle giant hippie in a paisley button down look and a ginger Cheshire cat smile with this really soothing voice.
He studies his prey, to figure out their deepest shame and then uses it to control them, records his conversations, keeps email logs, and even uses humans as Manchurian candidates and my own personal “Trojan Husband.”
One day out of the blue after I was offered a great opportunity that I had planned to turn down because I fear cameras, He announced to the church that theatre was evil and to be wary of me for I was an immoral slut who was so in love with herself that I had no more time to believe in this church he was a minister in and not only that but prom was going to be banned for the teenagers in our church as well. Because its not wholesome. (awesome run on sentence from the sleep deprived, oh well, you will live.)
My response to that was to audition and nail the title role of Oscar Wildes Salome, stripping to a bikini and making out with the bleeding head of John the Baptist, several months before my seventeenth birthday.
I was busted shortly after we did the show. One of the grown women from the cult were hunted down by her mother for being out past nine. Disturbing as Hell that a grown woman was being treated like a thirteen yr old. She later told the church to fuckoff and left her uptight husband for a woman.
I do this thing where I am cornered unreasonably that I go into verbal attack mode. If I can see into your secrets, your soul with my intuition I know how to cut with precision. I never do unless I absolutely need to fight back with someone who has no morality or compunction to honor a persons heart.
That time I told them to fuck right off, I was sick of the hypocrisy and brainwashing madness, I cut their fraudulent relationship to shreds and announced I would be moving out the very moment it was legal because I had already been in touch with lawyers.
I was hardworking, devoted to keeping any promises and never lax on my chores, I was expected to clean a three story house daily and provide the meals, the infant baby duties starting my freshmen year for them ( I slept many sleepless nights up watching that stupid Starr report Dracula was obsessed with while feeding their newborn and trying to juggle Algebra 2 exams and anything you can possibly fit on Cinderellas calendar.
My friends added insult to injury by actually calling me Cinderella because of my work schedule from home. There was no reason to go after my one thing I did for myself. Other than sheer ego, abusive manipulative control issues.
I was never a shit stirrer, showing emotions or letting anyone know they affected me in the least was not my bag. That is why I needed acting- Because if I did not have the stage to safely release emotions on. I would likely have gone to the asylum before I was twenty. It took me many years to realize why I fought so hard for the right to stay an actor.
I remember I was wrestling with potentially hurting anyones feelings (when you are aspie you tend to take in things as fact, until you can disprove them, so when someone says something emotionally as though it were a fact, it used to really fuck me up until I got the notion of disproving it.
I would get stuck in a loop of “well I suppose this could be true, or not, How is this true? Instead of realizing it was some subjective emotionally biased bullshit they made up because they tend to be damaged broken little children inside grown up bodies who only know how to “win” by manipulation.
I love Elementary. It taught me. Some people play a game to win and others solve puzzles to help. I am a solver of puzzles. It never occurs to me to win. Unless I absolutely desire something and there is no way to get around the attack.
When I was wrestling whether or not I would tell the church to fuckoff, My Honors teacher displayed Dead Poets Society that winter break. I had an emotional meltdown when the scene involving the actors suicide happened. The grief, the fear of not letting myself stick with my passion, with the one thing that kept me going and made me feel like my own person.
I almost never cried until I was twenty-four barring injury. A vow I made to never open up or let myself show emotion unless I was onstage. I knew it was very important to my inner self and clearly my body that I let myself remain an actor. I knew in my heart it was right and the story was biblical, how bad could it be?
I hated the attention that being a performer brought me. For me it was all about the emotional output. If I did not have acting I would have gone fucking crazy like both of my biological contributors.
I was a peacemaker, a voice of reason, and the nanny/scullery maid in a constant warzone. Anytime I spoke up or remotely showed emotion, I was quickly shamed and told I was like my “crazy mother” Remember her, the one who slit her wrists in front of me when I was five?
The atmosphere was so oppressive, there were nonstop dramatic triangulation and mindgames. The only peaceful time was when I agreed to LAN nights with my brother, his friends and Dracul.
I never understood my personal need for an emotional outlet. I was certain I had no emotions. I would have sworn in a courtroom I must be vulcan. I only knew I needed to be onstage.
However to a narcissist, everything and anything you do is meant to hurt them. I was denounced as Jezebel, a witch, my mother, any insult you could imagine. They threatened to file false police reports on me for doing drugs (never touched them and even as a runaway)
My response was to smile at them and go to the counselors I had worked with for two years as a highschool peer counselor and tell them everything, asking if I could please have testimonials to my work in writing and if I needed them for character witnesses would they assist.
I had already consulted with lawyers the year before and had been biding my time to leave the minute it was legal.
This culminated in an overly dramatic weeping show from one of the ministers in this church, crying my name and begging me not to go to hell. Being mad at God, any humans or the church, does not mean it is for life. But whatever makes a good act to pull on peoples heartstrings or manipulate them into obedience, right?
That is fucking ludicrous, unless one of those narcissistic fools manages to actually wound someone for life creating deep wounds, I have come across that a lot in this work.
Just the other day I had a conversation with about 120 women with those kind of wounds from fucked up preachers. If I were this God, I would fire a lot of his reps. They suck at their job and abuse their titles.
I told her to “Go fuck yourself” Very loud. In front of the entire adult audience.
I was so furious to be called out like that for chasing my passion, when it hurt nobody and I was the victim of an insane narc smear campaign lobbied by my biological contributor after he got up in arms I was asked to try modeling and his ego food wife #2. I was there trying to make peace and please my brother, it failed miserably.
Labeled a problem child for sticking to my guns and doing this show secretly. It was my body, my career and my choice. I never smoked (vocalist) I seldom drank, My biggest vices were my eating disorder that I kept under wraps, exercise obsession and doing shows. I lost touch with my extended family due to ongoing lies for decades but I found myself. Sometimes the best decision you can make is to burn a toxic and manipulative bridge.
I spent most of my youth arguing the bible with my father. His love of the Old Testament and thinking that God should have stuck with that persona really showed his fruit. My logic would be to would constantly argue that well if you are going to believe in him, you kind of have to follow the abridged version of the rules. Which are updated. “Love thy neighbor as thyself”
This is hard to share because I thought I was healed from it but it is the story that horror movies are made from and its my actual life. Kind of surreal sharing all of this at 4 am after waking from a nightmare and feeling a nudge to make this weeks topic for me and Rio “cults”
Thus began Dracula’s obsession with thwarting my existence. For doing a goddamned play.
I moved out 12:01 on my birthday and I never looked back. But I paid a hellish price for my freedom, I found out much later.
Before I learned any of the great evils of the past. I watched this film with my sister, Red State. There is a scene where he says “God hates you, God don’t love you.” I melted down, screaming. The blonde with the mole in the film looked so much like a younger me, I was catapulted back into the cult days. When Dracula was always doing everything in his power to argue, brainwash or break my spirit.
My sister jumped up to turn it off. I said “No. I have to conquer this, nothing is going to own me.” Then proceeded to watch it six more times in a row. Letting the energy tear through my body and screeching like a banshee. After I was limp and I felt purged of his evils.
When I was nineteen, I conceded on my church ban and I went to a father’s day service with him at a kindly vineyard church. Not a bad place. The curse came after, when ego food #2 commented on how Dracula and his “prophet” friend were praying for me to get ovarian cancer unless I stopped rebelling against them. My response was, I will never come back to you two. I stayed away for more than a year.
At twenty-five I actually had a surgery for 3 massive benign tumors on my ovaries which nearly killed me, disfigured my body for a season- I went from a 12 to a 28 and then lost it all by training my butt off.
I imagine if anything; they had an inkling I was carrying my illness and decided to spit that out over my body as if it were their work. I refuse to believe anyone so cowardly as to be scared of a teenaged girl’s energy holds any magical ability.
Shortly after my exhusband (The Trojan Husband) came clean that Dracula had been brainwashing him from the first few months we met into hating me, mistrusting me and feeling justified in attacking me every chance he got and that was why he strangled me, had vicious fits and accused me of terrible deeds.
He had lay hands on his shoulders and tried to convince my ex he was gay. When that failed, he just told him stories about me being a druggie and having secret flings with anyone who would have me. Then mocking him behind his back to Dracula.
My ex confessed he had hated and mistrusted me from that first incident when he was seventeen. I actually remarried that man, prior to hearing this after three years of peaceful friendship following a nasty divorce. Only for his abusive nonsense to reignite that evening of the wedding.
It is important to know what you are feeling so you do not excuse poor treatment as a “bad day” When someone has 365 bad days a year that are taken out in emotionally degrading manners upon you. He is not such a good hearted person.
What led him to believe those lies outright? What kind of person in their right mind shares their misadventures with their parents, let alone a cult leader? Clearly some people do not know the first thing about rational thinking.
I found out later Dracula had exaggerated my abuses, trauma and personality in order to chase away any man who spoke to me. A high school boyfriend admitted to me that when he spoke to him alone when we were sixteen,
He said “She is very needy, Shes not very bright she just talks big, She needs a white knight and is desperate to get married and have a baby, She does drugs and shes crazy like her mother, she cuts and might try to harm you. run away from her son”
None of it were true. I never asked for anything, I never expected anything and I would not have known what to do with love. As an aspie I sought to understand love most of my life. To me it was a carving in ivory, glittering and set with a starry backdrop as roses and ivy climb around it dancing to music. While a very specific classical music song I cannot remember plays before the word.
I read 400 quotes on the topic and hundreds of books and articles trying to get a tangible understanding.
His possessiveness over me was creepy and emotionally incestuous. I wish it had been possible to bring police charges for psychological abuse.
I think it is a form of abuse to be so obsessed with your child’s virginity or lack thereof and what a kid needs is guidance and to understand what love is and is not. It is just another form of seeing them as an extension of yourself, shaming them for being human and asking for them to end up escorts or fuckboys.
Dracula admitted to me once that he was teased for being so sensitive and gentle and that the kids called him “paper doll” I suspect his militant hatred of any other forms of sexual identity or lifestyles was an overcompensation. I think we would all be happier if we just minded our own fucking business about peoples choices unless they hurt others.
I personally only call something out when its hypocritical. Like the time I watched someone be shamed for not being married and living with her boyfriend, when the guy doing the shaming was secretly involved with his stepsister and wife in a three way slave situation remarkably close to a cult itself with how they worshipped his puny arrogant personality, Ew.
Some people like to wipe their shame on others and that is just unacceptable to me. It is one thing to tell the truth, it is another to always need to feel superior by exaggerating one’s flaws and abusing another.
I got free of Dracula after I moved cross country and refused to speak to him, He would ask me for intuitions and then denounce me to others as a witch. As if that is an insult.
He used to show my picture as a fat cheeked little girl of eight to his new cult members and would tell them it was “proof” that I was a witch and full of demons very young.
I know he sounds mentally ill. But there is mentally unwell and there is using your ability to harm others on purpose, to take their worship as if you are a god and to mindfuck them into harming themselves if they disagree with you. That movie still makes me shake when I watch it. Because even though I stuck to my guns, there was a part of me he tried very hard to code with a self destruct sequence.
Having intuitive ability is not a “demonic” thing. It is simply a white sparkling energy ability that some have and others do not. I liken it to having plant tendrils, rose vines emanating from my energy that can reach out and feel things. In the past, the present or the future. As someone who could barely feel my emotions, this intuitive ability has served me well helping me understand others. Except pure evil, I still cannot them.
Ego food #3 He got caught cheating by #2 contacted me to ask a question using those abilities he was denouncing me as a “witch” for possessing. I do not hold back when there is an opportunity to help someone get free of abuse and asked her “Did Dracul ever tell you your engagement ring was originally mine?
It was my mothers, She gave it to me when I was a child. It was the only item I ever received from her and I cherished it because it was one nice memory out of thousands not so nice.
One day it disappeared and I did not see it again until that day I helped him wrap it for you before you date. Stunned me. I was trying to be supportive and I was speechless at the bold theft of father stealing jewelry from a twelve year old.
There was no denying it because it was a spoon ring, with a distinctive lily pattern on the edge.
First he denied it. Then he broke down crying and told her he was afraid I would throw it away so he stole it. Because it was originally his so he was entitled.
Narc says what? She was so desperate to be special to someone she ate up the lies and is his happy little stepford bot to this day.
It amazes me the evil that some people are willing to do to others.
Yes I use that word because for me, it looks greenish, murky a fog that poisons you and envelops you and sucks the life out of you with black oozing sticky tendrils to intuit your shame, grief, to feed on your pain and anything possible to take superiority and manipulate your soul. That is how I see that ability.
Know your triggers. When something elicits an excessive emotional reaction out of you. Dissect. the HELL. Out of it.
Do not let anything that has hurt you, threatened you, tried to manipulate or dominate or SHAME you, Have any fucking power over you and if it does. Cut its head off and get your RAWR back.
Not if its a person, don’t kill them. Just write a letter and then decide if you are to send it or not based on how you heal and your style of combat. I am a fan of sending them because I like to fight back for my soul. I personally do not do the passive, just ignore and send them love and sugar cookies from the astral world way of thinking.
Do not be afraid to be true to yourself and YOUR style of combat, of healing or processing and releasing. If you have to fight back and it won’t get you killed. Do what frees YOU. Not what some talking head or positive thinker tries to shame you into doing.
I do the roast their ass with fire and perhaps they will think twice before hurting another. Not to mention your inner child is jumping and screaming YAYYYY fuck yes! as if you are in a playground fight with a bully.
It really helped me recover my Rawr.
Rio and I have been working with each other for over two years, healing cult wounds and narc relationship wounds, child abuse trauma and more. Before her, I was on my own and just working through my intuitive abilities, helping others for free because I wanted to balance Dracul’s evil in the universe.
I figured for every one he mindfucked and got to worship him, I could help someone see their strongholds, anything holding them back. Help them conquer them and find their inner child, creative inspiration and magic.