TW: I do go into some detail in this chapter about abuse, programming, and how systems are created and navigated through such abuse and programming. I do not go into a lot of detail of such abuses; however, what I’ve written may be triggering to survivors of abuse, ritual abuse, and mind-control programming. So, if you are a survivor, please read this chapter with caution. If you feel yourself being triggered, please stop reading and tend to your immediate needs. ❤
Disclaimer: I am not a mental health professional or counselor, and I do not offer advise regarding your mental health. Please consult your own mental health provider to devise and implement strategies that are best for you and your individual situation. Please read my full disclaimer.
As a survivor, I no longer believe it’s always a good idea to make public too many details about one’s personal internal system, particularly when mind-control programming has been involved. Unfortunately however, at the encouragement of my former so-called “life coach,” self-proclaimed “DID expert,” Dan Duval, I’ve already previously shared a certain amount of details, some that I now wish I wouldn’t have. But since the damage has been already done, I might as well talk about some of the things I’ve learned. At the least, other dissociative survivors may be able to learn from my mistakes.
On the other hand, I also believe that explaining a few basic things about systems can be helpful in the overall conversation surrounding dissociative disorders. So the personal experiences and opinions I share here is with that end in mind.
In case you don’t understand about the dissociative system, I’ve written a short definition and explanation about systems that can be found here: An Overview to Understanding Dissociation and D.I.D.
But basically speaking, the “system” of a dissociative individual consists of the safe and unsafe parts of their inside world (often created either subconsciously, through trauma; or, in cases of TBMC, through programming), as well as all the other parts of them (who I usually refer to as “alters”) that stay there when they aren’t taking full or partial control of the body.
Although it is not the same thing as a dissociative system, it should be noted that there can also be an internal world, of sorts — a spiritual space that is either created or “found” through a process of meditation and visualization — within occultists who have intentionally become dissociative through unsafe spiritual practices, such as through the various forms of meditation, or within so-called “Christian” doctrines, such as with the “Spirit Man theology.”
I’m not suggesting that all occultists create or see an internal space. I don’t know all of them, so I can’t possibly say this is true for all of them. But some of them do create or “find” a type of inside space.
The spiritual internal space they create or find can look different for each person, and depending upon the person, they will call it by various names: inner world, spirit place, spirit home; or they may give it names that indicate the type of space they have created or found, such as cabin, laboratory, tree house, island, cave, etc. “Christian” occultists may refer to this space as a prayer closet, a realm, a heavenly home, the heart, or something that has a more Biblical-sounding tone. The point is, there are many different names that people can call this inside space, so it’s not so much the words they are using, but the way they give description to and interact within this space.
Their spiritual inside space is open to demonic beings that they sometimes (but not always) call “spirit guides,” who usually take a human form, but sometimes a non-human form as well. It is common for both self-proclaimed “Christian” occultists and non-Christian occultists to be deceived into believing they are being guided by “angels,” by “Jesus” (or other translations of the name), or other spiritual entities who take on various names or titles.
⇒ For a short list of names and titles these beings can sometimes go by, see: “Lucifer’s Hierarchy, Structure, and Purpose.”
These spiritual internal spaces are connected to other spiritual areas (also known as realms, dimensions, spaces, etc.) that are under demonic control, and the individual can use their personal inside space to connect with and interact with the outside spiritual spaces.
Since the occultist has created within themselves a form of dissociation, it’s also possible that the internal spiritual world they have purposefully created (or supposedly “found” through meditative practices) could house the other parts of them, too, that have split off because of the spiritual trauma they have caused themselves. And because of the unsafe spiritual practices in which the individual has engaged, those parts are either demonically controlled parts of them, or are actually demons themselves who have deceitfully assumed the role of a part of the person.
Examples of self-proclaimed Christians creating a type of dissociation within themselves, and even purposefully splitting off parts of themselves, can be found within the “Spirit Man” practices, and also within various forms of meditation (and by the way, many self-proclaimed Christians call their meditation to be “prayer,” and some call it “contemplative prayer”).
So to summarize, internal systems are created in four basic ways:
1. Inadvertently, by the individual themselves, in an effort to escape and survive ongoing trauma that usually begins in early childhood.
There can be spaces in the system that are happy (to be a safe place to escape the trauma being experienced on the outside), and there can be spaces that are scary (these spaces could be thought of as being a reflection of the trauma that has taken place). The spaces can also be created to hide secrets, or to hide trauma, or to hide alters, or a mixture of all the above, plus more; and all these different areas can exist alongside one another, or nested inside one another, within the same space on the inside of the person.
There are many different variations, and it all depends upon the person, so I don’t imagine I could list all the variations… but this is just a very basic summary. I’m sure others would have plenty more description to add to this paragraph based upon their experiences.
2. Related to the above, but with definite differences, I’ve also personally observed that people who have certain mental illnesses can inadvertently create an inner space, which could be considered a type of “system” in my opinion, to either deal with the stress of their illness, or because of the mental illness itself (or a combination of both).
In some cases, I could see where the creation of such a space could be purposeful, too, but because of the mental illness, there is a reduced understanding of the possible negative consequences of such an action.
Regardless, this chapter is not speaking of this type of internal space.
3. An internal system can also be created purposefully, by someone else perpetrating trauma upon the individual, through a process that is often called mind-control programming or trauma-based mind-control programming (TBMC).
In my opinion, the overall space within this type of system is scary or traumatic to one extent or another, and there are most certainly elements of confusion. However, these types of systems can also have pockets of “safe zones,” so to speak, where the alters can converge and have relative safety. This is just a very simple description based upon my experiences, however; other SRA/TBMC survivors might have more to add to this paragraph based upon their own experiences.
4. And finally, a spiritual space (that can be similar to, but is not the same as, the internal system of those who are dissociative) can purposefully be created or connected to, by the individual engaging in unsafe spiritual practices, as described above.
It’s my personal opinion that, depending upon the person or the situations that caused the dissociation, some dissociative systems are simply within the mind of the individual, and are not necessarily “spiritual spaces” that reside within them. On the other hand, I believe that some dissociative systems are spiritual spaces that have been opened inside that individual; or, parts of the system are spiritual spaces; or the system itself or parts of the system are connected to spiritual spaces.
I also believe that every dissociative system has the capacity to be connected to these “outside spiritual spaces,” because of the very nature of what has created a system: trauma, to whatever degree that trauma may have been, or from whatever source that trauma derived.
This is why I believe it’s so important to maintain a CLOSED system, in order to avoid being connected with these spiritual spaces, which I will explain in a moment.
But these opinions are just hypotheses that I am offering based on my own experiences, and based upon my observations concerning how other people have described their own dissociative systems. I’m not saying that it holds true for everyone. Maybe it does; maybe it doesn’t. I’m not claiming to be an expert (please see my disclaimer). I’m just offering my opinion. If it rings true for you, fine. If it doesn’t ring true for you, that’s fine, too. I just ask if you would consider it as a possibility.
Being in Touch with Your System
If you are a dissociative survivor and are unable to be in touch with your system (the other parts of you and the space they occupy inside of you), or if you don’t have an elaborate system, please know that it’s okay. It’s normal.
Over the years, I’ve spoken to people who are unable to get into contact with their parts, and who are unable to see their system at all. Many of those people were distressed about it, expressing that they felt something was wrong with them. Namely, their fear was that because they weren’t able to be in touch with their system, then perhaps that meant they were making up the trauma that caused dissociation in the first place.
But this isn’t true! There’s nothing wrong with being a dissociative survivor, but not having a complicated system. Or with not being able to be in touch with your system, including your other parts. Everyone is different, and your system and your ability to be in touch with it will be based upon you, as an individual.
And regardless of what others may say, I believe it is possible to find healing from the trauma that caused your dissociation in the first place without being in touch with your system, because healing comes from the Heavenly Father, not your system!
So don’t try to visualize a system that you can’t see to begin with.
This is unwise, and can actually open you up, or open up your internal system, to being influenced and controlled by the demonic (or, connected to a spiritual space, whether internal or external, that is open to the demonic).
Furthermore, don’t allow someone else to walk you through visualizing a system that is not already there or that you can’t already see.
In fact, even if you are able to be in touch with your system, don’t allow someone else to walk you through visualizing and navigating that system at all! This is not wise, and by doing so, you are quite literally opening up your system to the influence of an outside force (which is the essence of mind-control programming), and by having an open system, you are susceptible to being influenced by the demonic.
So keep your system closed, because an open system is a system that is in danger of outside influence.
(And, by the way, keeping your system closed is very simply accomplished by just asking the Heavenly Father to close it! There’s no need to be scared about it. There’s no need for a special prayer with magic words, and you don’t need a self-proclaimed “powerful deliverance counselor” to walk you through repeating one of his or her so-called “powerful prayers.” Just submit to the Father, submit the problem to Him, and ask Him for what you have need of, and then continue to walk in obedience to His Word and in submission to His will.
For more detail, keep reading. 🙂 And also see: Finding Freedom for the Dissociative Individual)
It’s already hard enough being dissociative without having an open system, because it is my opinion that the state of being dissociative causes one to be susceptible to greater demonic influence, anyway.
I know that what I’m asserting is probably controversial, and I expect that many would strongly disagree with me, or even be hurt by what I’m saying, and for that, I’m incredibly sorrowful! But please don’t stop reading!
I hope that over time, as I continue to write about these types of issues surrounding dissociation, the full meaning of the point I’m trying to get across will become clear, but for now, please do not misunderstand me or read more into what I’m saying.
⇒ I’m not saying that the state of being dissociative is the same thing as being demon possessed. That’s a horrible, hurtful thing to believe and to say of individuals who have overcome and survived incredible amounts of trauma that the average person wouldn’t be able to even fathom, and it isn’t true!
⇒ I’m not saying that the different parts of you (what I refer to as “alters” or “parts”) are demons. That’s an incredibly ignorant statement to make, and it’s not true! Even the fragmented or wounded psyche of a human being is still human, and is completely different than a demonic being.
⇒ I’m not saying that if you have a system, then you are open to the demonic and they are influencing you and controlling you. That’s a ridiculous statement, and it’s simply not true!
⇒ Furthermore, I’m not saying that people who are not dissociative are not susceptible to demonic influence and control. This is absolutely not true! The state of being human is cause enough for the demonic to try to exert influence and control through whatever means necessary, whether one is dissociative or not!
But I’m simply suggesting that in regards to those who are dissociative, the issues surrounding the state of dissociation
(namely, the trauma that caused the disorder in the first place!)
can cause the individual to be susceptible to the demonic in ways that they probably wouldn’t otherwise. And certainly when open systems are involved (by whatever name such an internal space is being called), those open spaces can make it easier for the demonic to reside in, or connect to, and to exert influence and control.
As such, in healing from the things that have caused a dissociative disorder
(sometimes I misspeak and say, “in healing from dissociation,” but I believe there’s an important distinction between the two that I hope will become clear as I continue to share about these things)
it is imperative that the dissociative survivor who is doing what is called “system work” (something that I don’t necessarily and always advocate, because heavy system work can be dangerous for reasons that should become clear as I continue writing about this topic), do so very carefully, by yourself, and always always always by submitting everything to the Father and asking for His will to be accomplished in your life, within every part of you, and within your system/s.
So now that the important preliminary information is out of the way for now, on to the essence of this chapter. 😊
Systems: The Main Hall
A few months ago, while processing and writing down my memories of meeting three different people who were instrumental in my subsequent programming (Links: Snapshot #5, Snapshot #6, and Snapshot #7), I was unexpectedly flooded with seemingly innocuous memories of a visit to a museum when I was very young (seven…? eight…?).
And by “innocuous,” I don’t mean that being flooded with these memories was an easy thing. While the memories themselves seemed innocuous at first, my reaction to remembering the visit was intense, and it was very clear that there was something more behind what I had remembered.
I was in bed, nearly asleep (a process that takes up to an hour, usually more…), when suddenly, for no discernible reason, I remembered the visit, and I gasped and bolted upright, heart pounding, head aching, feeling as if I were about to jump out of my skin, struggling to not have a full-on panic attack.
Remembering the visit to the museum filled me with anxiety, with sadness and loneliness, with fear, and with an inexplicable anger.
But I had no idea why.
The memories themselves didn’t seem to be traumatic and they didn’t seem to be anything which would warrant such an overwhelming and confusing reaction, so it seemed ridiculous to be so upset about a visit to a museum!
So why was I angry over the visit to the museum? Why was I panicked and feeling overwhelmed with anxiety? Why did I feel such sadness?
After giving what was probably an incoherent explanation to my husband, whom I had accidentally awakened, I jumped from bed and ran to the computer where I started writing snippets about what I remembered. But aside from that initial, frantic journaling at 12:30 in the morning, I tried to put the memories of the museum on the back burner until I was in a better place to process everything, because I was still busy trying to process everything about the meetings I had had with Pamela, Baldy, and Dr. A…. and working through the trauma that I once again felt over the betrayal by my mother who purposefully and knowingly put me into contact with those three vile people… and the anger and grief of knowing that she will never admit the truth, but will instead do her dead-level best to protect her public image, partially by accusing me of being a liar and of being delusional or mentally ill, something she’s done periodically throughout the years as part of her public campaign to malign my character and my testimony, should I ever dare to speak the truth.
(And, by the way, I don’t have a mental illness. I have a mental disorder — one that was caused by the abuse my mother and others subjected me to. But if I did have a mental illness, it wouldn’t be my fault… and neither would it change the truth of what I’ve survived in my life…)
So although my extreme initial reaction and the ongoing unease that settled into the pit of my stomach indicated that something important had happened during or surrounding that museum visit, I was too busy trying to process the other memories, and I just couldn’t deal with another deluge of memories right then.
But after those three chapters were completed and posted, I was able to start better processing the memories of the visit to the museum all those many years ago.
While processing, I came to the early realization that at least some of my initial “memories” of the visit that I had quickly typed out in my journal weren’t actually memories of the visit itself, but of people and things that I was associating with the visit, giving me clues as to which museum I had visited.
For instance, when I first thought of the museum visit, I immediately thought about two of my cousins, Virginia and Sara. So my initial assumption was to think that the visit to the museum involved those two cousins.
On the other hand, it turns out that the memories of my cousin Reba being there were true (Reba is not her real name, and although she is now deceased, I will use the name “Reba” to protect the privacy of her surviving children and grandchildren), although when I first started remembering the visit, I tried very hard to discount my initial memories, thinking, “Surely Cousin Reba wasn’t there! That can’t be true…!”
And then, because I made a startling connection between a place in my system (the Main Hall) and the museum, I thought: “Maybe the woman I saw there was Pamela.” (the woman who eventually became one of my mind-control programmers) “Was I mistaken about when I first met Pamela? Did I first meet her at the museum, and not in the mountains, like I had thought? Because surely Cousin Reba wasn’t there! Surely my memories are tricking me!”
But after processing everything, even though I don’t want the tall, dark-haired woman I remember at the museum to have been Reba, unfortunately, all the little snippets of memory can only add up to one possibility: it was Reba.
Regardless, I’ve learned to not base the truth off of my assumptions, nor off of what I’d rather to be true, but on what actually is true, as painful as that truth is sometimes. So when I start remembering things, I simply journal exactly what it is that I’m initially remembering, and then come back later and work at putting the pieces together.
Another of my initial thoughts surrounding this visit were of two of my mother’s prized figurines she had, one of The Blue Boy and the other of Pinkie. So my initial thought was that perhaps we had visited the museum so that Mother could get her special figurines assessed and authenticated…? But that didn’t make sense to me, because her special figurines were already stamped and authenticated by the manufacturer, so why would she need to take them to the museum to tell her something that she already knew?
Once I started researching, however, it didn’t take me long to realize that Mother’s figurines had nothing to do with the visit itself (at least, not directly), but my mind had been making a very important connection to the place we had visited.
But it was hard to start the research.
I was afraid.
What if I came up empty-handed? What if there was no museum like what I remembered? What did that say about my memories? Would that mean that I was just making everything up, or lying, as my mother has constantly accused me of throughout my life?
All the doubts and denial and fears were flooding in and threatening to overwhelm me, tempting me to just forget about researching. To just chalk it up to yet another mystery that I’ll never fully understand. To throw in the towel and pretend like it didn’t matter or like I didn’t care.
But conversations with my husband and with my friend, Carolyn, gave me the push I needed to go ahead and do research. After all, I knew we had visited that museum, and I knew of specifics of what I had seen there. So if the worst case scenario was that I couldn’t find online evidence of the museum, there would be a dozen plus reasons why, and none of them had to do with me making anything up.
As it was, however, I didn’t come up empty handed. It only took a few minutes to come across the museum that I remembered: The Huntington, in San Marino, California.
Looking at the Google map of the area, as well as consulting the map of the grounds on The Huntington website, and coupled with visitor’s pictures of the gardens, I quickly recognized the museum as being the one we had visited all those many years ago.
I remember leaving the building we had been in, skipping along the path with my brother, Mother trailing behind, talking with one of the docents who was escorting us through a small portion of the beautiful, expansive gardens while we were waiting for our car to be brought around.
(I’m not sure if we were actually “waiting for our car to be brought around,” because in my mind, it sounds like something rich people do: “wait for their car to be brought around.” And we weren’t rich, although I’ve realized now, as an adult, that my mother always had much more money than she let on… but that’s a different topic. So “waiting for our car to be brought around” doesn’t make much sense to me, but that’s what I remember believing as a child.)
The lawns were like thick carpets of bright green grass, and when my brother and I started to run on the plush turf, Mother stopped us
don’t get on the grass. stay on the path
and we reluctantly stepped back onto the path.
The docent, however, said we could run in the grass
when the owners of the property were alive, they loved to have children run on the lawns, so we encourage all the children to run barefoot on the grass, too. so if it’s okay with your mother, please take off your shoes and run in the grass! just stay on the grass, don’t get in the flowers.
and Mother said “yes,” which thrilled us.
There was a huge mansion off in the distance a little ways, across the lawn
the Huntington Art Gallery
and I asked about it.
what’s that place over there?
The docent said that was the house where the original owners used to live, and she rattled on about it, but I wasn’t paying attention to her words. I was thinking about the large house itself.
It was very impressive, but I couldn’t imagine actually living in a place that big. After all, how many bedrooms did a person actually need? Even though the house looked beautiful, I couldn’t imagine why anyone would need a house that large. It didn’t seem reasonable to me, but I kept my opinion to myself, because I figured it would probably be impolite (uncultured or low-class, as Mother would have said) to suggest that such a large, beautiful house lacked appeal in any way.
We walked past an herb garden, and walked through a rose garden, and we saw a large statue of a woman with a little naked angel baby
the L’Amour Captif de la Jeunesse
and since I had been told that children who died became angels, I thought the statue was depicting a mother whose baby had died, and I didn’t like the sculpture. It was very disturbing, in my young opinion.
But, of course, I kept my opinion to myself, because I figured it would probably be impolite (low-class) to show distaste for what was otherwise a beautiful and impressive piece of art.
I saw water in the distance, and a bridge, and a curious-looking building with a curved roof that piqued my interest
the Japanese Garden
but I don’t believe we went into that area of the garden. We just walked past it and circled around to where our car had been parked on the gravel drive alongside one of the buildings.
So… I don’t recall anything even remotely traumatic about our short stroll through the gardens. Certainly nothing that the memory of such would warrant my visceral reaction and leave my stomach sick and tied in knots for weeks.
I continued my research and realized that the name of the building we had probably been inside (and I say “probably,” because I can’t find adequate pictures of the inside hallways to be absolutely sure for myself) was named the “Virginia Steel Scott Galleries.”
Thus explaining at least one reason why I was initially making the connection between my cousin, Virginia, and the visit to the museum.
That particular gallery was opened to the public in 1984, and although our visit to the gallery might have occurred earlier, when it was still closed to the public, or even later, that still puts me in the seven to nine year range, and my brother would have been around the four to six year range, confirming my memories of approximately how old we were when we visited the museum.
If that weren’t enough, I also found out that two of the original pieces of art that were hung in one of the galleries were The Blue Boy, by Thomas Gainsborough, and Pinky, by Thomas Lawrence, thus explaining why my initial memories surrounding our visit to the museum were of my mother’s special figurines.
My mind — or you could say, those parts of me who had held onto the memories for all those years — was trying to tell me where I had been all those years ago!
And then I remembered something that I hadn’t thought about in such a long time.
A Special Meeting
Mother had a special meeting that day — a special meeting where several women sat around a table, some of them wearing white robes
(They did not arrive wearing the white robes, nor did they leave wearing the white robes, but the robes were only worn in the meeting, something I didn’t know at first, but I came to know later.)
and talked about the Bible and another special book that had a blue cover and a picture of an angelic being with light rays coming from his body.
I remember much about this meeting and the surrounding events. I remember when the ladies arrived and when Mother disappeared inside the room with them. I remember waiting outside the room on a slatted wooden bench with my brother in the wide hallway of the museum. I remember my brother and I playing in that hallway, and eventually being allowed in the room with the ladies. I remember the buttery cookies and the red punch. I remember what the room looked like, what some of the women were wearing (white robes), and even though I didn’t fully understand at the time what was being discussed, I remember some of the ensuing conversation about “angel guides” and about being “enlightened” that the women were having with one another. I remember being brought into the conversation and being asked questions about angels, Jesus, and spiritual matters.
But I don’t feel comfortable sharing all the details at this point because I haven’t yet come to a point where I have adequately processed all the conflicting emotions that are churning inside me.
And anyway, the details of what that took place at the museum that day aren’t what is so important. It’s not what was and is so traumatic to remember.
The museum was lovely, particularly the gardens.
The meeting was a little boring, but not bad. The ladies were friendly. The atmosphere was relaxed. There were little buttery cookies to eat and punch to drink.
But to talk about the details feels strangely disloyal, almost, to the women in my family. To talk about it makes me feel anger, because it is yet another piece of evidence that shows how much I was lied to as a child. To talk about it makes me feel sadness, because it’s very apparent to me that Mother did not consider me good enough or worthy enough to be told the truth of who and what we were.
The important part about the meeting wasn’t the details of where we were, what the room looked like, what my brother and I did. But the important part is the secret of the meeting, and the fact that Mother (and my cousin) were connected to this occult group.
Sisterhood of Light
A part of who I was as a little girl recognized something very important and life-shattering that day during the meeting. She recognized that Mother — and our Cousin Reba who we met there that day — weren’t who they put out to be. They weren’t the good Christians they claimed to be, but were something dark. Something dark that masqueraded as light.
And by the way, I’m not suggesting that Reba was an abusive and hateful individual like my mother. I don’t know if she was or not, and as a child, I loved and respected Reba. I never sensed that she was an abusive person, although I recognize that my feelings one way or the other don’t make it to be the truth. But as a child, even though my thoughts were not in keeping with my religious upbringing — because I was taught that people who did not go to a UPC/Apostolic church were sinners who were bound for hell — I felt that my cousin Reba was a good person anyway and a good Christian woman, and contrary to what I had been taught, I didn’t believe that she was going to hell. She seemed to be a very loving woman, just like her mother, and I loved and respected those women with all of my heart!
But it’s clear to me now, mournfully so, that Reba was not the Christian she claimed to be, and who I, even in spite of the religious brainwashing as a child, believed her to be…! That realization was distressing and traumatic to me as a child, and so I locked that information — that secret — away, choosing to instead go about life consciously believing that Reba, and my Mother, were Christian women, as they claimed.
Maybe some people wouldn’t think all this is a very traumatic thing. But it was very traumatic to me as a child, on many different levels, to realize that my mother wasn’t a true Christian, nor my cousin Reba. To realize, in fact, that we weren’t who Mother publicly said we were. And not only that, but that our family — namely, those generations of women who had special “gifts” that Mother constantly told me about (they were occult gifts, but as a child, I didn’t know they were occult) — weren’t the Christians they publicly claimed to be, either!
As a young child, like many young children, my very identity was tied up in my mother. And because of how I raised, it was also tied up in church. That was my life! My entire reality! My foundation! And it had just been ripped away from me!
So that knowledge was so distressing to me, that a part of me locked away those secrets deep inside our mind, not only to protect the secret, but to protect our own self from that incomprehensible truth.
And, of course, to protect Mother’s good reputation. To protect Cousin Reba’s good reputation. To protect the good reputation of the women in our family who wore the same Christian mask that hid a darker, Luciferian (Satanic) agenda.
As a child, I didn’t have that word
to describe what we were, but that day I came to the shocking revelation that our family wasn’t the good Christian family we claimed to be, and so the part of me who realized this locked that information away in a little grey metal lock-box that she kept hidden away behind a closed and locked door
the more layers of doors and locks to keep us separated from the heartbreaking truth, the better
that was down a long, wide hallway in our mind
the hallway from the museum
to protect the secrets of what generations of women in our family have been a part of: serving what some call “The Light.”
And thus, “The Main Hall” was created in my system.
Growing Up in My System
As an adult, I have already come to the very painful conclusion that Mother, who has claimed and still claims to be “Christian,” is actually a Luciferian. So it’s not as if the memories of that day are shocking to me in that way. I’ve already dealt with the stress and pain of that revelation, for the most part.
But some of the shock and distress of remember the meeting at the museum, is because the memories about this meeting is yet another piece of the puzzle of my life that has fallen into place with such astonishing accuracy, reflecting and personally validating what I have already known to be true about my mother and about the generations of women in our family: some of them claim Christianity, but they are, in fact, Luciferian. However, since this memory now paints a picture of my cousin Reba that is in such direct opposition to what I have believed for so long to be true about her, it creates within my mind a type of “cognitive dissonance” that is very painful to come to terms with.
Strangely enough, however, what is most shocking of all is to finally realize, after all these years, why the Main Hall is such an important part of my system: it was created to hide the secrets, and once that hall was created within my mind, it became a natural place for some of the parts of me (but not all) to congregate, because desiring structure and order is a natural thing for the mind.
Because of the abuse I endured on a nearly daily basis as a child, I would very often seek refuge in the only place that was safe: my mind.
I don’t want to get into a lot of details, but in order to understand how this type of dissociative phenomenon takes place, you need to understand something about the level of trauma I was dealing with on a regular basis.
My mother was very abusive. I haven’t detailed a lot of the abuses she put me through, but there were times I thought my mother was going to literally kill me.
Very often, she’d grab me by one arm (or by the hair of my head) and beat me with whatever object was closest — a thin plastic belt, a thick leather belt, a wooden spoon, a wire hanger, the back side of her large pink AVON brush — and when all else failed, she would use her fists. And the entire time she was beating me, she was screaming at me to be still and shut up.
stop crying! stop jumping! i’ll stop as soon as you stop crying and jumping around!
Sometimes, when hitting me with objects wasn’t enough to satisfy her anger, or when she had bruised her hands or fists to the point where it was painful to continue beating me, she’d just grab me by my hair and start bashing my head against the walls and floors.
Since it was physically impossible for me to stop crying and screaming and jumping around, trying to get away from her assault, I would dissociate — detach myself mentally, so that I could not feel anything physically.
My dissociation would have me either floating out of my body or shrinking inward.
When I would float out of my body, it started off as my body going completely numb and feeling as if my head were about to float away. My ears would fill with a dull roaring sound, filtering the noises of the other children in my mind (the other parts of me) who were talking or crying or screaming or laughing, and then I’d float out of my body and hover at the top of the room, just below the ceiling, and watch a strange woman beat on a little girl. I couldn’t recognize my mother, and I couldn’t recognize my own self. I didn’t know who she was and I didn’t know who I was. It puzzled me, but I stopped trying to figure it out, because the longer I watched myself being beaten, I would begin to recognize myself. And as soon as I recognized myself, I would be sucked back inside my body, once again feeling the pain. So I learned that if I floated out of my body, the safest thing was to ignore the little girl and the strange woman.
When I would shrink into myself, I would go inside, into a dark space within my mind, where I came across those other parts of me that I would hear sometimes. They seemed to just be floating around in an empty space, but it didn’t seem as if they knew they were floating in an empty space. Some of them were laughing and talking with each other, other were playing quietly with the toys they had — dolls or trucks or blocks — but many of them were cowering and whimpering in fear; crying and screaming in pain; or screaming in anger.
Even though I recognized them as being parts of me, I didn’t know what to do, how to interact with them, or what to say to them. All the conflicting noise coming from those parts of me was very overwhelming, but it was better than being stuck on the outside, being beat senseless. So I would stay on the inside, being very quiet, so as to not attract the attention of anything or anyone that would recognize that I didn’t belong on the inside, and who would make me go back to the outside.
Of course, Mother wasn’t the only one who was abusive, causing me to dissociate. My stepfather, Tom, was sexually abusive, as I’ve mentioned before, and, of course, going through the trauma of what is commonly known as trauma-based mind-control programming (TBMC) definitely caused dissociation. So because of the regular abuse, I pretty much “grew up” inside my system, I guess you could say, because I was constantly dissociating to one degree or another in order to survive.
I’m not sure of exactly how old I was (six…? seven…?) when I became aware that there was more than just that inside floating space, but at some point, I found myself inside what I eventually (as an adult) came to know as my system.
(Well, one of my systems, anyway. There’s more than one, but I’ll talk about the other one later.)
When I was a child, I didn’t call it “my system.” In fact, I didn’t talk about it at all, but when I thought about it, I thought of that inside space as being “The Country,” my special place where I could visit to go play with my friend, Princess Corina.
(I didn’t recognize Corina as being a part of myself. I thought of her as being my friend, like an imaginary friend, except she wasn’t imaginary. She was real. Just… not physical.)
Once I became aware of this place inside of myself, I would go there all the time, even when I wasn’t being hurt on the outside. It was more desirable than the life I had to live on the outside. Even though there were dangers — unsafe places in the mountains, evil “guards” that we had to avoid, conflicts with various parts of me who were warring with one another, some of which I didn’t recognize as being parts of myself, either — it was usually a much more desirable place to be.
I won’t go into many details, but it was fashioned after the country that is the Land of Oz, except everything was mirrored, with north/south turned upside down, and east/west flipped over.
(The directions being reversed is a component of the books, as well, but I didn’t know that as a child because I didn’t read the books until much later, as a teen.)
The only place that was constant was the middle, and that’s usually where I would find myself, where I would interact with Corina, who was fashioned after the character “Princess of Ozma.”
As an adult, in coming to terms with the abuses, one of the most important connections for me to make in regards to this system, was that I didn’t read the Wizard of Oz book series until I was around thirteen (ish…? Maybe late twelves…?), and I do not consciously remember watching the first movie (The Wizard of Oz, 1939) until I was around 14, after we moved back to Texas.
So it’s very clear to me that although my system was created around the fictional “Land of Oz,” it was programmed inside me by someone else, because I had no conscious knowledge of anything that had to do with Oz until I was in my teens.
If that weren’t enough, there were also elements of this system that very clearly pointed to programming, too.
I won’t go into too much detail, but for instance, there was a “tree of life,” of sorts, made up of different colored gems that were interconnected.
Additionally, there were special pools of water in the basement of Corina’s castle, and when really bad things happened on the outside that hurt my body, Corina would take me to those special pools of water, and they would bring a quicker healing to my physical body.
I used to think these pools were evidence of God bringing me healing, but if one interprets Scripture properly and within context, there is no Biblical basis for literal pools of water to be inside an internal space within a person that brings them healing.
(Literal can be spiritual or physical, so by saying “literal,” I don’t mean physically literal, but spiritually literal.)
Healing is through the finished work of Jesus Christ that He completed upon the cross; not by means of mystical pools of water that reside within an internal space of an individual that can be accessed via dissociation, or even through meditation or contemplative prayer. Therefore, I now see those pools as being evidence of programming, and those pools that were programmed inside me were a type of conduit that was making possible an occult healing so that I would be able to withstand the trauma of the programming process.
At some point (and I now realize that point was after the visit to the museum), I became aware that there was a new section added inside my system. It was called “the Great Hall” (but we’ve since changed the name to “Main Hall,” because “Great Hall” sounds too pretentious and stuffy for me), and was arranged like a great wide hallway with doors lining both sides, leading to rooms that were locked and closed off.
After Corina took me there on a first visit, I very rarely went inside this house that had been situated in one section of the country. It was depressing, and it was inhabited by all those parts of me who used to be floating around inside that empty space in my mind. The noise of them crying, screaming, laughing, talking, playing, etc., was too much in that long, wide hallway, and I didn’t like being there. All the noise was confusing and stressful, and it was a little creepy, too, the way everyone just stayed there, in that spot, waiting, and living their lives, such as it was….
Not to mention, the Main Hall was boring, too.
There wasn’t anything for me to do there except sit on the slatted wooden bench at the end of the hallway (or, if the bench was occupied, stand in the middle of the hall) and cover my ears, trying to dull the noises of the screaming and crying and talking.
There was nothing exciting to look at, like what was inside the large room in Corina’s castle. No one in the Main Hall would talk to me the way Corina did. There was nothing fun to look at in the Main Hall, and I’d rather be with Corina in the room with the glass bridge and the glass river and the fish swimming and jumping in its waters.
one fish two fish red fish blue fish
There was nothing fun to do in the Main Hall, and I’d rather be exploring the other sections of the countryside, looking for flowers or rainbows or sailing on the lakes. Or even sitting at Corina’s vanity, devising a plan to convince Thelma, The Wicked Witch of the West
to abandon the dark and join the light.
(Thelma — Thelema — was the “Wicked Witch of the West,” but because east and west were flipped, she had actually resided in the east. However, the “Witch Wars” pushed her out of her home in the West — that was located in the east — and she had taken residence in the South country, which was actually located in the north, because in my system, north and south were flipped, too.
This isn’t important info, of course… but it is representative of the internal chaos and turmoil the different parts of me had with themselves and with each other, and I add it just to show further evidence of the different programmed elements of the system, and of scripts that were inserted via programming. Although most readers may find it useless info, someone may find it helpful to them, if for no other reason than validation of some of the elements within their own system, and perhaps as a validation of the internal struggles they may feel within their internal system/s.)
So the Main hall wasn’t fun or interesting. It was just a large hallway that was filled with different parts of me who I couldn’t communicate with. Therefore, I didn’t go into the Main Hall very often, and Corina didn’t usually take me there. Instead, we most often explored the land via secret passageways so as to avoid the “guards” (the guards were actually demons, but as a child, I just thought of them as scary monsters), and explored different rooms that were hidden in odd, floating spaces that had no real entrance or exit points. But Corina knew all the secrets of the land (she was the Princess of that land, after all), and she knew how to navigate the area without fear or confusion, as long as she was able to avoid Thelma. And as long as I was with Corina, I didn’t have any fear, either.
Leaving My System
Somewhere around the age of 12, I was kicked out of my system.
There are a lot of memories surrounding that age that I haven’t fully processed yet, so although I’m pretty sure of the event that took place in the physical that caused me to be kicked out of my system, I’m not able to clearly articulate those memories just yet. It was a ritual that was taking place where a “light being” was summoned, but just thinking about it kinda freaks me out right now. I’m not ready to fully process those things, yet. But when (if) I get to a point where I can clearly articulate it, then I’ll probably write about it.
(And for those who don’t understand: by “light being,” I don’t mean a good being. He was definitely demonic, and I know that.
But by referring to him as a “light being,” I just mean that he was glowing very brightly, and at first I thought he was an angel. Then I thought he was Jesus. Then I wasn’t sure what he was, but it was clear that his bright, angelic appearance was a façade, because although the energy around him appeared to be of such a nature as to make me nearly believe he was Jesus, there was something that lurked in the background — something absolutely evil and deceptive — and it scared me.)
But although I can’t yet clearly articulate what was happening in the physical, I have very clear memories of what was happening in my system.
I was with Corina, leaning out over the glass bridge that overlooked the glass river, watching the fish jump and swim. We were laughing, trying to guess which color of fish would jump up from the waters next, when I heard a rustling to our right, on the banks of the river where the odd-looking gem tree was planted.
I looked over, and was surprised to see the funny-looking gem tree had transformed into what looked like a real fruit tree with several different kinds of plump, ripe fruit hanging from the branches: apples, bananas, plums, kiwis, and grapes, I think it was. Up until that point, I had never seen real food inside my system, so it was an oddity all the way around, and I pulled away from Corina’s side with the intention of getting a closer look.
Corina grabbed my arm, however, and tried to pull me away. “Don’t go over there,” she warned.
I pulled away. “Don’t be silly! I just wanna look.”
She tried to stop me, but I walked across the bridge and made my way to the tree anyway.
We both stood there, looking at the tree. Corina didn’t like it, and I didn’t understand why. It was a beautiful tree and the fruit looked yummy! What harm could there be in taking a piece of fruit from the tree and eating it?
I reached for a piece of fruit (one of the plums, I think it was), and to my surprise, the bridge spoke up: “Don’t do that. That’s dangerous.”
I was startled, and looked over my shoulder at the bridge. He had never spoken before!
‘I didn’t know the bridge was alive,’ I thought. Then I shrugged and turned back to the tree, pulling the piece of fruit off, thinking to myself, “Oh, what does a silly old bridge know, anyway?”
And I took a bite.
Immediately, everything in my system shattered outwards, like shards of glass flying and spinning around, and then everything was whirling furiously, like two giant tornadoes at war with one another: Corina and my entire inside world was spinning away in one direction, and I was spinning away in the other direction. Corina and I reached for each other, screaming, but she was being pulled inward and I was being sucked outward, and we couldn’t reach each other.
Through the swirling mess, I saw her grab several parts of me, gather them in her arms, and then she was sucked back into her room in the castle.
Then everything was gone.
Living in the Real World
For the next several months, I tried to go back inside, but I couldn’t.
I tried to get back in touch with Corina, and for a few weeks, I could hear her voice whispering inside my mind: “You have to go away now. It’s not safe. You can’t come back here. I can’t talk to you anymore.” And after a few weeks her voice started fading, until eventually, she was completely gone.
Although I was used to living with a type of depression that always lingered in the background, I fell into a deep, full-on depression.
Eventually, after several months, I didn’t remember anything at all of my inside world.
With the absence of the memories of my inside world, many of the memories of my actual physical life had faded, too, but I didn’t realize it at the time. I was busy trying to survive life. By that time, we had moved from SoCal and were living in Roswell, New Mexico, and I had switched from private school, to home school, to public school, transitions that weren’t easy, especially considering that the abuse at home continued with Mother.
(But at least the abuse with Tom had ceased, because, aside from a short period of time where he was living with us in Roswell, he and Mother were legally separated. He didn’t take the separation well, of course, and he harassed us for a while, but they eventually divorced, and after that, he stayed out of our lives for the most part, with a couple of other exceptions I know about that I may discuss at a later time, if the subject comes up.)
Somewhere around that same time frame, after we moved to New Mexico, I found the Wizard of Oz books, and although, surprisingly, I didn’t think anything odd about parts of the books being familiar in any way (but maybe not so surprising, because programming confuses your mind, making it virtually impossible to make important connections like that), I enjoyed reading them because it helped me feel connected to something indefinable and profound that stirred deep inside me. Reading the series felt like going home, but I couldn’t explain the feeling.
(I also enjoyed reading “The Lord of the Rings” and later, “The Chronicles of Narnia” series, for the same reason, although the feelings were less intense than with the Oz series.)
A few years later, in my mid-teens or so, I came to the unpleasant realization that, aside from a few memories of my childhood (most of which I remembered because my mother and brother would talk about them, too), I hardly remembered anything about my childhood at all!
I didn’t think that was normal, but I wasn’t sure. What did I know of “normal?”
If I thought hard enough and long enough, little snapshots of memory would come back. But trying to remember the details would give me a headache, and I couldn’t keep a grasp on any fragment of memory for very long.
In high school, I had a friend who had D.I.D. (but it was called “M.P.D.” at that time, “multiple personality disorder”), who had been horribly abused as a child, too, and she sometimes switched to a different part of her at times. It was startling at first, but I took it in stride, because I appreciated her no matter who she was at the moment. Through her, I came across the stories of Sybil and “The Three Faces of Eve.” I read about them, and for some strange reason, I could relate to some of what they had been through.
I had a snapshot of a memory of being very young and floating out of my body and seeing other parts of me in the room, but I couldn’t remember what it was that had upset me so much to cause me to float out of my body and see other me’s around. Based off of that memory, as well as other fragments of memories of floating out of my body when Mother was beating me and hearing and seeing other parts of me (but I didn’t remember the system yet…), I thought, “Maybe I have multiple personalities, too. Maybe having those other parts of me is because of multiple personalities. That might explain what I saw….”
I gave serious consideration to the thought, but after making a mental list, of sorts, of similarities and differences between myself and Sybil, and between myself and Eve, and even between myself and my friend at school, I eventually shrugged it off, nearly laughing at my silliness. I just didn’t see myself as living that type of “double life” in such a dramatic way. I couldn’t relate to that extreme manifestation of other personalities, or even the way my friend so obviously switched. I didn’t think I switched like that.
But I wondered if my behavior was sometimes inconsistent and abnormal, the way my friend’s was…? I wasn’t sure, because I couldn’t see myself from any other perspective other than my own perspective, but I was pretty sure that I didn’t switch to other personalities.
So since I had no satisfactory answers, I dismissed the idea that I might have multiple personalities. I figured I was probably just “being dramatic,” the way Mother always accused me of being.
And yet… the thought lingered in the back of my mind.
Looking for Help
When I was in my early-to-mid twenties, I cut off communication with my mother, and I started having some memories come back.
I started remembering how Tom sexually abused me, and I started trying to come to terms with the awful abuse my mother had put me through, too, although I hadn’t remembered even the half of it!
But that’s about as far as it went. I knew there was more, but divorce, moving, being a single mother with three children and no source of personal income nor any education to obtain a source of personal income…. all those things, and more, took over my life, and unraveling the mystery of my life was put on hold indefinitely.
Some time in my early thirties, I decided it was time to talk to someone who could maybe help me know how to feel better… to figure things out… to help me put together the pieces of the puzzle that had been — that was — my life.
So I started seeing a state-licensed psychologist.
In one of our early sessions, I shared with him about the time I had floated out of my body and saw other parts of me down below, in the room. By that time, I had remembered what had caused me to dissociate. My stepfather, Tom, had raped me, and I had run from his room and into my room, screaming. And as I lay there on the bed, screaming, I floated out of my body and saw the other parts of me in the room.
After listening to me, my psychiatrist smiled and made a wave of dismissal with one hand. “Oh, that’s just dissociation,” he said. “It’s not that uncommon when people have been abused to think they are coming out of their body, but they really aren’t. It’s impossible for you to come out of your body. It’s just a trick of the mind.”
And then, instead of helping me figure out if I had a dissociative disorder (testing wouldn’t have been such a bad idea, doc…!), he shared a disturbing and unnecessarily descriptive story, detailing aspects of one of the “dissociative cases” that he had studied when he was in school, about a woman who had been horribly assaulted, and I didn’t want to hear that story. It was horrible. Maybe that was his way of “explaining” what dissociation was… but it was a horrible story to hear and it was triggering to me.
So I felt that not only had I not received a satisfactory explanation about dissociation, but since he didn’t ask me any probing questions about the abuse I suffered, but instead started talking about someone else’s experience, I felt as if the abuse I had suffered through was being ignored and dismissed. Furthermore, I also felt as if my dissociative experiences had been invalidated, because he insisted that I was mistaken about having come out of my body. He said it was just my imagination.
In fact, although I couldn’t clearly articulate all the conflicting emotions at that time, his response reminded me of my mother’s insistence that I was making up everything, so I never asked him about it again, and he never brought it up again, either, and that was that.
After a year or so of weekly visits (or was it closer to two years…? I can’t remember, exactly), I was declared “all better,” and I paid my final bill and left his office, feeling strange. I thought that being “all better” would mean that I felt all better. But I thought hard about it, and decided that even though I was supposed to feel better, I wasn’t so sure if I did.
Over the period of time that I had been seeing him, all the deep issues I had brought up that I could remember (being sexually abused, being physically abused, floating out of my body, seeing and hearing other parts of me) had been consistently treated as surface issues, so it had been very hard for me to trust him. Most weeks, I didn’t even want to visit his office. In fact, on the drives to his office, I usually ended up dissociating to one extent or the other, and I would sit there in his office, shrunk inside myself, while my mouth moved and spoke words that I couldn’t always relate to. I wanted to tell him more, but I just couldn’t! I wasn’t even sure what the “more” was that I wanted to tell, because I could hardly remember it myself!
So although I didn’t feel “all better,” I was glad to be done with going to his office. If I heard one more story of his childhood, or his family life, or his previous case studies, or how his son wouldn’t talk to him anymore, I was going to either scream or implode within myself and completely shut down. I had gone there to get help in figuring out MY life. Instead, I had sat there nearly every week for over a year listening to him try to figure out HIS.
It had been ridiculous, but looking back, one good thing came of it: I finally had a word to give definition to my odd experiences.
A couple years later, more memories started coming back.
(And, by the way, I had reestablished communication with my mother by then, but as more memories came back, I eventually cut off all contact with her sometime in the fall of 2015. I couldn’t stand to see her lying face one second longer, and I couldn’t stand to pretend to believe her lies and pretend to live her lies for one second longer.)
I decided to make it my personal mission to figure out the mystery of my life, and so I started making a concerted effort to remember, researching out what I could and when I could.
I started making a lot of mental connections in 2012, and I started journaling heavily in the fall of 2013, bringing even more memories flooding in.
It wasn’t easy, but I was determined to know the TRUTH of what had happened to me, and the TRUTH about why I was (why I am… lol) so screwed up.
Much of what I started remembering was very jumbled and confusing at first, and I couldn’t make sense of a lot of it, so I was making a lot of presumptions at first, some of it conflicting, based off of what I was remembering. But I made some very important connections, and I came to the startling, but somehow freeing realization that I had a dissociative disorder. And there’s certainly a huge amount of relief that comes with being able to point to something and say: “THIS! This is what I’m dealing with! This explains me!“
I also came to the startling and fearful realization that I had been through some type of programming. I wasn’t sure of the extent of it at first, mainly because I hadn’t been aware of my systems yet, and because I didn’t yet remember key components of that programming. All I basically had were those snapshots of memories that were jumbled up and confusing, and trying to piece them together to form a cohesive narrative felt impossible.
Reconnecting with My System
Sometime around the Fall of 2013, through Facebook “friends”
(translated, this basically meant, “absolute strangers,” which was incredibly naïve of me, and ultimately dangerous to my mental and emotional health…)
I came across Dan Duval’s podcasts, and I started listening to his information. Through listening to Duval’s podcasts with Preston Bailey, and through listening to some of Carolyn’s stuff on Duval’s programs, I realized that if I got in touch with my alters, I would be able to have access to the memories
(by the way, this isn’t necessarily and completely true… but that’s what I believed based on what Duval and Preston had said)
and that I could ask Jesus to “come into the memory,” and that was supposed to help, too, in remembering things.
(and again, this isn’t true… but that’s what I believed at the time, based on what Duval and Preston had said.)
I wasn’t quite sure how to do all that, but through my journaling, I started that process.
On October 19th, 2013, I made the following journal entry:
Last night I had an image in my mind while I was talking to Jesus. He took me by my hand and opened the door to my heart. It was a large house with many rooms. Each of these rooms would have a bad memory or something else that was bothering me. He said we were going to go to each door and open each door. He would look inside and He would expose each of these rooms to His light. And it would get better. He showed me what that meant, that He was not going to each room to criticize, but to heal. He was not condemning me, but healing. He said He WANTS to go to those dark places with me — those shameful places where the hurt is — because he wants to help me. He’s already been there before, and He knows His way around.
I eventually came to remember that the house was the “Main Hall,” and from there, I was able to get in contact with the other parts of me, including Corina, who, although she was initially unwilling to be in contact with me, ended up the part of me who helped me remember more of what had happened in the past, particularly by helping me remember the systems.
I need to pause here and make several key points very clear.
⇒ First, as far as I am concerned, the ONLY good thing that came of my unfortunate association with Duval was meeting Carolyn, who has become a very close friend. So, for that, at least, I am thankful.
Of course, if I am being honest, another good thing that came out of my unfortunate association with Duval was that the Father used that awful circumstance to “knock some sense into me,” so to speak, allowing me to get even deeper into “Christian” witchcraft through Duval’s teachings, so that I would ultimately realize that the ONLY solution to my problems were not the witchcraft that was being sold to me in a “Christian” package, but the solution instead was solid, foundational, Biblical doctrine.
But I give glory to the Father and glory to Jesus Christ for using that situation for my ultimate good. Not Dan Duval.
⇒ Second, even though a “Jesus” brought me into that particular system (the Main Hall), I did not do what I call “memory work” with that being. All subsequent remembered memories were because I was journaling and working on putting together the fragments of memory on my own.
⇒ Third, a dissociative system is not the same thing as the “heart,” and I was giving an occult meaning and application to the Biblical definition of “heart.” But I wasn’t aware of that at the time I wrote that entry in my journal. At that time, I thought it was normal and natural as a Christian to “find Jesus in my heart.”
⇒ Fourth, yes, I do believe that the dissociative system, as well as alters, can offer understanding about what has happened in the past. Not always, as some people falsely claim, but they can.
Here are some of the problems that working within the dissociative system can bring (what I call “heavy system work“):
• Working within your system can bring memories back very quickly, but it can also lead to flooding, which is dangerous and extremely painful, and it can lead to things such as nervous breakdowns, an increase in what is called “suicidal ideation,” and even suicide attempts, as well as an increase in any problems you had prior to the memory flooding, such as severe switching between yourself and the other parts of you, addiction issues, or self-sabotaging behaviors.
• Working within your system can lead to triggering of programming, if it’s present, which is dangerous and extremely painful (see the above paragraph for examples of what I mean by “dangerous and painful”). And the problem is, you don’t always know programming is present until it gets triggered!
• Doing heavy system work can also open your system up to the demonic, if it wasn’t already open. And if you are working with someone else who is helping you “navigate” your system, this is absolutely true! You should not navigate your system with someone else! At best, it’s leaving you open to the suggestion of that person, which is the basics of mind-control programming, regardless of the intent. At worst, it’s also leaving you open to the demonic, particularly if you invite “angels” or a “Jesus” into your system to help you navigate your system.
• Working within your system can also lead you to want to stay inside your system, which isn’t healthy, and this can be particularly true if you’ve made a safe, happy place for the parts of you to reside in.
And please don’t misunderstand: I’m not saying that creating a safe, happy internal space is bad. I’m saying that staying in that space, rather than living your physical life, isn’t healthy. It might have been healthy at one time, when you were going through inescapable abuse and that was the only way to survive. But in the process of healing from the effects of that abuse, staying dissociated by living inside your system isn’t healthy.
You need to learn better coping mechanisms, rather than one of living life being dissociated.
(And I’m not saying this to be harsh… I know these things take time, and I’m still working on it, too! Healing is a process. It’s a lifestyle. It’s not a destination. And it takes time. 🙂)
Given all of this, I have found that the much easier and much safer way to remember and to heal from the traumas that have been forgotten, is to simply ask the Father.
I’m not saying that you shouldn’t want understanding of your system/s. I’m not saying that you shouldn’t be in touch with the other parts of you. I’m not saying that you shouldn’t try to remember those things you want (and probably need) to remember.
But I’m saying that throughout the entire process, keep the will of the Father foremost in your mind and of top priority!
If you want understanding of your system, ask the Father to give you understanding, if it is within His will.
If you are already in touch with your system and you become aware of something that is disturbing or new or whatever, submit it to the Father and ask for His will to be done.
If you feel as if you need to remember something that is important, but you can’t quite remember, ask the Father to bring to your remembrance, if and when it is within His will.
If you are journaling and come across a memory that is bothering you because you can’t quite figure it out, submit it to the Father and ask Him to help you according to His will.
I hope you get the idea… 🙂
I have found that this is a much, much safer and much, much easier way to go about the entire process.
Getting in touch with alters is fine. It can be helpful, and I’m not saying it’s wrong.
Knowing what your system is and why it’s there has it’s positive aspects, and it can be helpful, and I’m not saying it’s wrong.
But ultimately, these things won’t bring you the healing and deliverance you need!
A relationship with your Heavenly Father is what brings you healing and deliverance!
All other things are secondary to that.
So allow Him to take control of the healing and deliverance process, rather than try to navigate through that process on your own (or with another person… which is a big no-no, in my experience and opinion).
⇒ Fifth, “Jesus” coming into a visualized space in my “heart” (which wasn’t actually my spiritual heart, as I already stated) was an activity that was not based on Scripture. It was based upon a perversion of Scripture, and was an experience I had while I was supposedly “praying.”
And by “praying,” I mean that my “prayers” were nothing more than an occult meditation. Some people may call it “contemplative prayer,” or a variation of contemplative prayer, but it’s the same thing. And it is based not upon a Biblical perspective upon prayer, but upon a mystic, occult version of “prayer.”
And I found out later, much to my GREAT dismay and anguish, that the “Jesus” in my system was simply a demonic being who had taken the form of who I thought was “Jesus” and who claimed to be “Jesus.”
⇒ Sixth, and related to the above thought, the way the Scriptures are being misinterpreted and misapplied in these types of situations is not Biblical. I do not find where it is Biblical for the person of Jesus to reside in or to visit anyone’s “system,” nor is it Biblical for the person of Jesus to visit or live inside a “spiritual space” that the person has either created or “found” inside of them, and has either unintentionally or purposefully mistaken and mislabeled as being “the heart.”
And in regards to this topic, I don’t believe I’ve been as clear as I should have been in the past when talking about this, and I believe that by not using precise language to fully explain what I mean, I’ve unintentionally misspoken (or mis-wrote… or is the correct word “mis-written”…?). So, I am going to work on doing a better job of more clearly explaining what I mean to the best of my ability, because this is such a complicated and TRICKY deception that Satan is using to gain a foothold into many people’s lives, causing them to be led by an antichrist spirit, and not Jesus Christ!
So in an attempt to make myself clear, I’d like to say that “Jesus” being inside a self-proclaimed Christian’s system, or within a spiritual space they have created or found within themselves (what some have mislabeled as their “heart,” or what some have called their “realm,” their “cabin,” their “house,” their “laboratory,” their “private cave,” their “internal spiritual space,” their “heavenly home,” their “prayer closet,” or whatever name they want to use to describe such an internal space), is largely based upon three things:
1. The improper and unbiblical application of believing that salvation is obtained by asking the person of Jesus to “come into their heart”; therefore, the Christian believes it is okay to “go inside” (either inside their dissociative system, or inside a “spiritual space” that they mistakenly believe is their “heart”) to interact with and converse with a spiritual being whom they believe to be the person of Jesus who is supposedly residing inside their heart.
2. It is based also upon an occult meaning and application of what the word “in” means.
For example: being “in Christ” or the meaning of “Christ in you,” found in verses such as Colossians 1:27 or Romans 8:10, as well as others.
So some people who call themselves Christian are taking that Biblical meaning and application, and giving it an occult meaning and application!
3. And some people who call themselves Christian are taking the Biblical meaning and application of what the heart is, and giving it an occult meaning and application!
⇒ First, a system and one’s spiritual heart is not the same thing!
Furthermore, one’s “heart” (as defined from the Biblical, spiritual perspective) is already there! It doesn’t have to be visualized and created!
Likewise, one doesn’t need to go on a spiritual quest of any sort through meditation or “contemplative prayer” (which is simply a so-called “Christian” occult version of an occult meditation!) to “find” the space of the heart. That’s giving an occult definition and application to what the Bible defines as the spiritual “heart” of a person.
Many Christians who go on this sort of “spiritual quest” may not recognize that is what they are doing! But I urge those individuals to line up their belief systems and their activities with the properly interpreted and properly applied Word of God!
⇒ Second, interacting with spiritual beings inside a spiritual space inside of you (what some people are mislabeling their “heart”) is not a Biblical activity!
⇒ Third, salvation is not repeating a prayer and “asking Jesus into your heart,” anyway. Read Scripture. This is not a Biblical view on what salvation is.
⇒ Fourth, at the point of salvation, the Spirit of God (also called the Holy Spirit, the Holy Ghost, or the Spirit of Christ) dwells within us, not the person of Jesus Christ!
Furthermore, when Scripture is applied properly, this does NOT mean that we “go inside” into our “spiritual space” (by whatever name that space is being called) or into our “system,” and gather counsel and guidance from a spiritual being that claims to be Jesus, the Spirit, or angels. That is what occultists do. That is NOT what a Christian should do!
So, no, I am not “throwing out” and rejecting Jesus by saying that He does not reside in your system.
And I am not “throwing out” and rejecting Jesus by saying that He does not reside within a “spiritual space” you may have created, or “found” within yourself after much contemplative-type prayers, and are mistakenly defining as your “heart,” “realm,” “laboratory,” “cabin,” or whatever other term you wish to use to describe this type of spiritual space.
I’m not throwing out or rejecting Jesus Christ at all!
Without Jesus Christ, there would be no forgiveness of sins! We would have no salvation! There would be no way to have a relationship with the Heavenly Father!
Without Jesus Christ, there would be no healing!
Without Jesus Christ, there would be no hope of eternal glory!
Without Jesus Christ, the grace of God would not be poured out on us!
Without Jesus Christ, I wouldn’t be alive today!
Without Jesus Christ, there would be NOTHING!
So, no, I’m not throwing out, or discounting, or ignoring the FINISHED WORK of Jesus Christ.
And, no, I’m not throwing out, discounting, or ignoring the FUTURE WORK of Jesus Christ to establish the Kingdom of God on earth!
But I am throwing out and wholly rejecting all the deceitful antichrists who come in His name and who claim to be Him!
⇒ Seventh, the questions MUST be asked: if this “Jesus” who showed me inside my system was actually a demonic being, then why did the demonic want me to know the truth about my past? Why would they take me into my system, knowing that I would eventually remember all the trauma that had created the system in the first place? Wouldn’t that risk me turning against them? Isn’t that diametrically OPPOSED to what they want in the first place — to hide the truth? Why would they want to expose the truth?
These are the questions I asked myself!
But please allow me to explain:
⇒ First, they didn’t point the way to the Father as being where the solution was. They pointed to the inside of me (my system, my alters, my memories) as being where the solution was!
And in case I haven’t made this point clear, let me reiterate: I’m not saying it’s bad to be in touch with your system or your alters or your memories. But I’m simply trying to explain that those things aren’t what ultimately brings you healing. Your Heavenly Father brings you healing! So get in touch with HIM, and He will work healing inside of you, bringing you in touch, if and when it’s necessary, with your alters, your system/s, and your memories.
⇒ Second, Satan and the demonic KNEW I was remembering the truth already! The programming was beginning to very quickly break down, and I was already starting to realize the truth of what had happened to me, anyway!
But they wanted to control that process! They wanted to control my perception of the truth of what had happened to me! They wanted to insert themselves into the entire process, muck up the works, and ensure that I would stay programmed in the way that they wanted! They wanted to make sure that I continued to work for them, and in a way that they could easily control, and in a way that I was more likely to accept!
So, no, it’s not surprising to me at all that a “Jesus” entered into my system — a demonic being that I freely welcomed and accepted the influence of, because I was accepting of the idea and giving an occult meaning and application to “Jesus being in my heart” — and showed me my system.
⇒ Third, if you understand anything about the process of “enlightenment” or “illumination” (see Carolyn’s article, “Illumination“), then you will know that Satan wants you to know the truth!
Satan wants you to KNOW the truth, and then to REJECT IT.
And so, that was the process they were taking me through: Satan wanted me to know the truth, but to then accept his perception — his perversion — of that truth, rather than the actual truth that comes from the Father that is clearly expressed in His written Word (the Bible).
But God “works ALL things together for the good of those who love Him, who are called according to His purpose!” (Romans 8:28)
What Satan meant for my deception… what Satan meant to entice me to continue to work for him, but with a full knowledge of what I was doing… God meant for my good!
And I praise and thank the Father every day for delivering me from that deception!
And I give thanks and praise and all glory to the Son, Jesus Christ, through whom my salvation and continued deliverance and continued healing has been made possible!
So, I hope this has helped make clear that the way I started going about healing and deliverance was wrong from the very beginning!
Duval and “Working with Jesus”
Tuesday, December 3rd, 2013 is when I had my first phone conversation with Duval. He took me through a visualization exercise of “bringing Jesus into the memory,” to try to figure out more of what happened one particular day.
Since that “memory” was born out of an occult visualization exercise (at the time, I didn’t realize it was occult, however), I have since completely discarded that “memory.” Maybe it happened, maybe it didn’t, but I don’t trust it, since it was being introduced to me by a demonic being who had been invited into my personal space (through my ignorance and by Duval’s prompting), and who was pretending to be Jesus.
Subsequently, that demonic being who was pretending to be “Jesus,” stayed inside my system the entire time I was being “counseled” by Duval.
And as I continued to work within my system on my own, I began to remember more things that had happened, and I continued to research what I could, making connections, and writing everything down in my journal.
When I was doing this memory work on my own time, it was done through my journaling. I didn’t “work with Jesus” or with “angels” to remember things or to put together the snapshots of memories. In fact, before I eventually hired Duval several months after our initial conversation, I didn’t even interact with the “Jesus” that I thought I had found in my “heart.”
After hiring Duval, however, I did often interact with the “Jesus” and with the “angels” on my own time, but it wasn’t so I could remember. It was often because I was desperate to receive comfort and peace because of the retraumatization I was having over memory flooding. But I didn’t do memory work with the false “Jesus” and the false “angels” in my system. That was done on my own through journaling, as I wrote down the things I remembered, the connections I was making, and the research that backed up my memories, in a manner that has already been described in this chapter.
There are a few exceptions that took place after I hired Duval, where he would put me on the spot and insist that parts of me come to the surface during the “counseling” process
“will the part of Loren who remembers being at the Christmas party come forward and share what you know?”
and share details of what they remembered about something I already knew had taken place.
And all the parts of me who were congregated in that section of my system would look back and forth at each other, uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot, jostling about, murmuring and whispering to each other
“is it you? do you know something Loren doesn’t?”
“no it’s not me! is it you?”
“then who is it?”
“I don’t know…. maybe it’s her.”
“hey, it’s not me! it’s gotta be someone else….”
wondering who was supposed to come up and say something, and what that something was supposed to be.
(And by the way, to be fair, I do not recall telling Duval how this stress played out within my system… but this is what is was like from my perspective.)
Eventually, a part of me would step forward
“I guess that’s me…?” she’d say with uncertainty
and start sharing small details of what they thought happened, or an explanation concerning what they thought happened. And then a supposed “confirmation” would come from the “Jesus” in my system, or from “Joshua,” one of the “angels” that was in my system.
“sure, that’s right, that’s what really happened” they’d say, and give pats on the heads of the alter who had been brave enough to speak out on something that she wasn’t sure about to begin with
It was all rather bizarre and very forced, and it didn’t feel right. It made me and those parts of me very uncomfortable to be put on the spot like that, and it didn’t entirely match up with what I knew to be true, and it didn’t sit well with any part of me. There simply was no connection whatsoever to the details or to the explanations those parts of me were giving, but at the time I believed it to be true because Duval (and “Jesus” and the “angel”) convinced me that it was true. It’s extremely embarrassing to admit that I fell for that crap. However, I’ve subsequently dismissed those things because they do not fit in any way, shape, or form, into what is otherwise a logical narrative of my life, and into things that I have already known to be true.
But all that came later, after I was neck-deep in the muck and the mire of the “counseling” sessions with Duval… Before that, I had a couple more long conversation with Duval, and then I officially hired him as my “deliverance counselor” (although, he called himself a “life coach,” which is a way to get around government rules that regulate mental health professionals… but I wasn’t aware of that at the time).
During those conversations, we supposedly “worked with Jesus”
an antichrist, as I came to realize later
as well as with the so-called “angels”
demonic beings, as I came to realize later
to explore my systems, find alters, bring them to “Jesus”
so he could supposedly “heal the memory”
and give us his perspective.
a demonic perspective that gradually took over my entire system
As I continued “counseling” with Duval over the next two years, he rearranged, destroyed, or inserted various elements into my system
as well as supposedly “beat up” and even “destroyed” the many demons that popped up and continued to pop up within my system during this entire process, because they never fully left.
This was part of Duval’s so-called “spiritual warfare,” and in the beginning, it was waged through Duval’s “powerful prayers” as he commanded the supposed “angels” and told them what to do.
Towards the end of the nearly two years of working with him, however, Duval wouldn’t say or do much at all, and I’d just watch what was happening in my system or in whatever realm we happened to be visiting that day, and report to Duval about what his so-called “spirit man” and the so-called “angels” were doing to supposedly take care of the demon problem or the programming issue or whatever other issue was pressing at that moment, and this was considered to be evidence of Duval’s increasing power. Apparently, Duval had become so “powerful” that he didn’t even have to do anything at all. He just sat on the phone with me while his “spirit man” and the “angels” did all the work.
I can’t believe I actually believed all that crap at the time…. talk about brainwashed…! and programmed…! and mind-controlled…! how embarrassing!
Additionally, Duval would attempt to ascertain knowledge that he would ask me to inquire of the “angels” or of “Jesus” on his behalf
and also not compassionate or wise to put an already stressed-out client through the additional stress of trying to be a perfect channel through which to receive a supposed “word from Jesus” or from “angels”… I often wondered “if Dan’s so spiritual, why doesn’t he just ask Jesus for himself?!”
and, eventually, in spite of my resistance
because I didn’t want to do it and it was stressful for me, but when I resisted, the “angel” in my system would take me anyway
Duval began leading me through exercises whereby I would remote view (or astral project… whatever you want to call it) into different supposed realms for various reasons, including for Duval to engage in a type of “spiritual warfare.”
And, by the way, whether the “different realms” were actually real or not is irrelevant. Some or all of it may have been imaginary, for all I know! And at this point, I don’t even care one way or the other. But the greater point is that Duval, my so-called “Christian life coach” and “DID expert” believed them to be real, and he encouraged me to travel to such places and to report to him what was seen and heard, and eventually, he supposedly started “taking over” those realms through his “spirit man,” and supposedly adding it to his own so-called realm that was ever-expanding, all in the name of “spiritual warfare.”
first of all, not Biblical
second of all…
If all that weren’t crazy and unbiblical enough, there were tons of false Jesuses that would constantly pop up in my system, from the very beginning of my conversations with Duval!
Sometimes they would make sexual advances on me, and it was extremely stressful, confusing, and traumatic, as well. It was so hard to know who or what to trust, if I couldn’t even trust that “Jesus” was who he claimed to be! I felt as if all the confusion and stress and trauma were my fault… which it was my responsibility, fundamentally, because I had allowed them in…!!
(This is a huge topic that will have to be explored later, but I’d like to say quickly that there’s a big difference between taking responsibility and taking on unnecessary guilt.)
But I didn’t purposefully allow demons in. I had been deceived, and I hadn’t been taught proper Biblical doctrine, so I was completely undiscerning!
Furthermore, I was relying on my “coach,” my “deliverance minister,” to be the one who was discerning! After all, I already knew I was undiscerning! That’s why I was relying on Duval to be the one who knew evil from good; Jesus from a demon; Biblical doctrine from occult doctrine.
I allowed myself to completely trust Duval’s “discernment,” and so in spite of the trauma and stress and confusion — and in spite of memory flooding, triggers, and a general lack of qualified support and basic human understanding and compassion for the problems I was facing not only because of the past trauma, but because of the retraumatization that the memory flooding was causing me — I continued with the so-called “deliverance counseling,” trying my best to trust that Duval was getting rid of those fake Jesuses…. even though they kept coming around.
There was so much craziness going on in that ungodly “deliverance counseling” situation, and I don’t want to make this chapter all about that crazy mess… but I hope this explains a little about the dangers of “working with Jesus” in my system. It was horrible! It was not of God! It was not based on Scripture at all, but on an occult interpretation and an occult application of Scripture!
Duval and Programming
Aside from working with the demonic beings who were posing as “Jesus” and as “angels,” Duval himself continued to change things inside my system, adding things here, moving things there. Telling alters what to do, giving them new identities, new jobs, etc. Some of this was at the prompting I was hearing or seeing from the fake “Jesus,” and some of it was coming from Duval himself, but all of this programming was conducted through Duval’s “prayers” or “commands” that he would give in sessions.
At the time, I didn’t make the connection between what Duval was leading me through, and what a mind-control programmer does, but what he did was the very basics of mind-control programming!
(See: “Inner Healing and Working with Jesus“)
No, I didn’t feel any trauma. Not at that moment, anyway. The trauma certainly came afterwards, however, either later that day or the next day, and it continued that way for the two years I worked with him, getting worse and worse as those two years progressed! But I didn’t feel any initial trauma during each session while he was changing things around in my system. It didn’t happen as it did when I was a child.
For instance, I wasn’t strapped to a programming chair, being given electric shock, and being forced to view disturbing images, as he talked me through visualizing that internal space.
I was simply talking to Duval on the telephone!
But what he did was programming, nonetheless.
And for many reasons
(reasons that included the occult aspects that such a “counseling” involved; Duval’s own incompetence in understanding and knowing how to properly deal with emotional/mental disorders that included triggers, flooding, attachment disorders, PTSD, addictions, unpleasant alters, and a host of other issues; as well as the general lack of support and understanding within what was supposed to be a support group)
it ended up being a very traumatic two years, in an emotional, mental, and spiritual way. And it did end up negatively affecting my physical health, which hasn’t always been the best, anyway, as I’m prone to having a nervous and upset stomach, anxiety and panic attacks, insomnia and other sleep disturbances, as well as FMS that has a tendency to flare under stressful situations.
I don’t want to make this entire chapter in my bio all about Duval, but I have to stop here and acknowledge that I’m sure Duval and his fan base would vehemently disagree with everything I’ve said about how I feel about my time spent being “counseled” by Duval. And they absolutely have a right to disagree with me, even publicly, and to publicly endorse Duval and his services (his “life coaching”) for themselves.
But I also have a right to publicly express my testimony as well, even if it is negative, and I have the right to give a public review of the service Duval is trying to sell to others (his “life coaching”), even if it is negative, especially since I used to publicly endorse him…! And I do stand by my testimony, because my opinion of Duval and his services has been formed based upon my personal experiences (my testimony) with him and the service he sold to me, and the service that he is still, as of this writing, trying to sell to others.
Furthermore, as a Christian, I have a duty to point out that what he is advocating and teaching is occult, and that it is not based upon Scripture that has been properly interpreted and properly applied. He’s trying to sell his service as being Christian, but it is not, and Christians have a right to know what they are getting into if they are contemplating making use of Duval’s services.
You see, through my personal experiences with him and with his “life coaching” services, I came to realize that Duval talks a good game for the most part, especially if one accepts his occult interpretation and application of Scripture; and he comes across as being adequately charming and charismatic on the surface (certainly not the most charming and charismatic individual I’ve come across, but enough so…). But he has no idea what he’s doing in counseling (“coaching”) people who have serious mental health issues. He simply is not qualified, regardless of what he and his fan base have claimed. This is not a slam nor an attempt to defame his character (he defames himself quite enough on his own, with his lack of adhering to sound Biblical doctrine…). It’s simply the truth.
He is not actually qualified
(in other words, legitimately educated and licensed to practice within the mental health field)
to be proclaiming himself to be “specialized” in dealing with D.I.D. or with any other mental health disorder/illness that he falsely claims to know how to help people with.
And if he were state licensed, and if he continued to “counsel” people in the way that he does now, then what he does would still be dangerous and harmful and completely against Scripture, and I would still warn people to stay away from it.
On the other hand, if he were a qualified (licensed) mental health professional who specialized in dealing with dissociative disorders (or any other mental/emotional condition, for that matter), then he would most certainly get his licensed revoked, and possibly worse, because a licensed mental health professional is not allowed to practice in the mental health field in the way that Duval and associates do. That’s why Duval (and presumably his associates) has himself a little “life coach certification,” and operates as a type of “mental health practitioner” under the premise of being a “life coach.” (although it’s not clear to me where he got this “life coach certification” from, or if he even actually has it, because I’ve never seen evidence of it, but for the sake of argument, I’ll accept his word as being truthful about that much, at least…)
Subsequently, anyone who has been brought to harm because of Duval and associates, are unable to file a complaint with the state, because none of them, to my knowledge, are state licensed.
(And, by the way, if this has changed and if you, the reader, are aware that there is someone on his line of “coaches” who is state licensed as a mental health professional, please let me know so that I can amend this and the other articles I and Carolyn have written about this topic. We’d certainly like to pass on this information to others, particularly because if those who have been harmed by Duval and associates would like to file an official complaint with the State, as is their legal right, then they would at least know with whom to start.)
So, since there are no legal means of which I am aware, whereby victims of BM and Duval can find restitution or justice, then the entire affair basically boils down to a “buyer beware” situation.
And this is one reason why Carolyn and I have blown the whistle on the entire con.
(The main reason we’ve spoken out, however, is because what Duval and associates are teaching is not Biblical…!!)
If we don’t speak out, how will people be warned against something that will most certainly bring them spiritual harm, and perhaps even harm mentally, emotionally, and physically…? Someone has to be the whistle-blower! And as unpleasant as a task that is, it might as well be us.
At any rate, as far as I’m concerned, Duval’s fan base, whomever they may be, should continue to share their positive testimonies and positive opinions if they have them. I do not begrudge them their right to do so. And in the same manner, no one should begrudge me my right to share my honest testimony and opinion (that is based upon my personal experiences with him and his “life-coaching services”), even if it is negative. I’m sure any reasonably-minded individual would consider this to be fair. 🙂
Let me end this section by saying that I officially fired Duval on Monday, May 9th, 2016. It wasn’t a clean break. It wasn’t easy. In fact, I left his “counsel” barely hanging onto the very few shreds of sanity that I had left, but at least I was alive. I didn’t want to be alive at that point, because I was very depressed and suicidal. But I was alive, nonetheless.
Recovery and Cleaning up the Main Hall
Recovering not only from the harm that Duval caused me through his occult “counseling” techniques, but also more importantly, from the harm of being led by a false Christ that entire time, has been very, very difficult. I’ve come a long way, but I still have a long way to go.
But I’m working on it, by the grace of God. 🙂
The first thing I did was close my system.
At first, I didn’t think about asking the Father for help in that (I was so used to either trying to do it all on my own, or relying on other people to do it for me!), so I fumbled around a lot on my own, trying to sort through who was who and what was what
demon or alter…? angel or demon…? Jesus or not Jesus…? it was so confusing!
and I tried to separate the occult alters from the Christian alters, because the occult alters had absolutely taken over, and had been in total charge for several MONTHS at that point.
(In case this point escapes you, the occult alters had been placed in charge of my system through the work I did with Duval! Duval had placed them in charge, through his “spirit man” counsel!)
But nothing was working quite right.
I did feel confident that I had kicked out all the Jesuses, but one of them would show up again, every once in a while, and I didn’t know how to get rid of him completely, especially since I was feeling guilty for wanting to kick out Jesus! I was afraid that I might accidentally kick the real one out!
(What a relief it was when I realized a short while later, that the TRUE Jesus Christ was never and will never be in my system…! It took the weight off my shoulders! I didn’t have to depend upon my own faulty discernment to decipher between the “real” Jesus and all the “fake” Jesuses. I could go to the written Word of God and see for myself that Jesus being in my system wasn’t Biblical! What a relief to know that I could discern what was true based on the proper exegesis and application of His Word, and not my own feelings or thoughts about the matter!)
I tried kicking the demons out (most of whom had been disguised as angels throughout my entire system), and I knew some of them had left, but others of them I wasn’t so sure about…. It seemed they may have just gone into hiding and not actually left, and I was worried.
Besides, it was hard to tell the difference between some of the occult alters and demons. I wasn’t so sure I was doing it right.
And when it came to some of my alters, especially the very strong occult alters who had taken over the system, trying to wrestle them inside the rooms off the Main Hall and lock them away wasn’t working very well. If I (and the other parts of me) managed to get some of them into a room and lock the door, they’d usually just come right back out the next day, or a few days later.
After a couple of weeks of all this discouraging and overwhelming and basically useless work (or was it a couple months…? I’m not entirely sure how much time actually passed), it finally dawned on me that it might be a good idea to stop trying to fix things by using the same techniques that Duval had used to supposedly “fix” things, and to simply ask God to help me…!
What an eye-opener, huh!?
So I just gave it all up to the Father and basically said, “Okay, I don’t know what to do, so here ya go! I’m out!” And He showed me to surrender everything over to Him, and to ask for His will to be done in my life, in the life of every part of me, and within my system.
And so I did.
My internal world got much quieter and calmer pretty much overnight.
The occult alters separated themselves from the rest of the group and went quietly to their rooms and stayed there.
(Some of them come out periodically; however, it is always in accordance with God’s will in my life, as He is working healing within those parts of me. And as I surrender those parts of myself to Him and to His will, He does the work in healing every part of me! One by one, they are surrendering themselves to the Father and committing themselves to doing the work of the Father rather than the work of the enemy! I don’t know when this process will be finished, but I am learning to not worry about the timeline any longer. The process will take as long as the process needs to take, and my Heavenly Father has it all in His control.)
Every one of the so-called “angels” left.
The beings who were clearly demons left.
The false Jesus left completely and never came back.
Up until that point, I had been unsure if “Joshua” was the angel he claimed to be, or if he was simply an alter, so I didn’t know what to do with him. But after I gave the process over to the Father, “Joshua” disappeared and I never saw him again. So that was a weight off my shoulders!
And then, with the help of a couple of internal self helpers as well as a defender alter, I was finally able to lock myself out of my system.
Every once in a while, I would become aware of activity inside my system, but not often.
For example, early on, after I submitted myself, every part of me, and my system to the Heavenly Father, I found myself inside my system, near the Main Hall, in the field that was to one side. There were several dozen parts of me digging in the ground with shovels, and pulling up what looked like small boulders. They were placing those small dark masses into large cloth sacks, and then tossing the sacks up into the air, behind them, and the sacks were flying upwards and disappearing.
I quickly found Jo, one of the main internal self helpers, and asked her, “What the heck is going on?”
She barely looked up from her digging and said, “We’re getting rid of all this damn programming that Preacher put in here! So get a shovel and start digging!”
(“Preacher” was the name Jo called Duval.)
I was surprised, but I thought, “Well, I guess that’ll work. Why not?” So I picked up a shovel and started digging, then I was pushed back out of my system.
Afterwards, it was easier for me to start recognizing the occult doctrines I had fallen prey to.
But that was an unusual experience, because by that time, I had stopped going inside my system to try to figure it out. Now, I’ve learned that if I need to figure something out, I ask the Father for understanding. Sometimes I don’t get understanding, but sometimes I do. Either way, I allow the Father to give me understanding in a fashion that is according to His will for my life, and according to His timeline for my life. Not mine.
I stopped trying to go inside my system to try to work through things and to try to fully remember… or to bring understanding of the past… or to bring healing from the trauma. If I need to remember or to understand and to heal from those past things, I simply ask my Father! Sometimes I don’t get remembrance or understanding, because it’s not the right time. But sometimes He does give me remembrance and understanding. And sometimes He does allow me to enter inside my system in order to gain that understanding. But either way, the Father is working healing within me, and I’m learning to be happy with giving that process over to Him. It’s not always easy. Sometimes I forget to ask Him first. But I’m learning.
I also stopped trying to go inside my system to try to find and destroy programming. Sometime I am aware of programming that needs to be destroyed, but I’m sure there’s a ton of stuff in here that I am not aware of! Or, well, at least there used to be tons of stuff in here, but there’s much less of the junk now than there was before! Either way, I don’t worry about it any longer! I simply give the situation over to my Heavenly Father, and I allow Him to take care of it in whatever way is in accordance with His will. Sometimes, as with the above example, I am aware of the programming being dismantled and destroyed; but not usually. And I’m okay with that! That’s fine by me! If it were me trying to get inside my system and find, dismantle, and destroy all the programming, I’d muck it up for sure! So I allow my Father to take care of it, and I have assurance in my heart that it will be done properly and at the right time and in the right way!
Don’t get me wrong. Sometimes I do find myself inside my system. But it’s not my purposeful “go-to” solution anymore, because I’ve realized that healing comes from my Heavenly Father, not my system or the other parts of me.
So in addition to giving the entire process over to my Heavenly Father — the remembering, the understanding, the healing, the systems, the programming, the alters… everything! — my healing journey not only involves me continuing to educate myself on the issues that surround dissociative disorders, PTSD, child abuse, adult survivors of child abuse, co-dependency, NPD, cults, etc…, but it also involves me educating myself on the Word of God and learning to properly apply the Biblical principles that are found therein!
I don’t get it right all the time. I mess up a lot. Just ask my husband or my children!
(well… on the other hand, maybe don’t ask them, please, because you’d be awfully disappointed in me, and disillusioned, particularly if you are under the FALSE impression that I have some sort of “ministry,” which I do NOT…. I have a website. Not a ministry. I have a testimony. Not a ministry.
So just take my word for it — I screw up a lot. lol 😄)
But I’m learning to allow my Heavenly Father, through His Spirit and because of the finished work of Jesus Christ, to work healing in me, one day at a time, in His way and in His time.
This is the key to healing: a relationship with the Father!
Praise Him for His faithfulness!