Shattering, Betrayal, and Wrath: Dissociative Identity Disorder and Redemption

[Shattered]

This has been a long time in the coming.

I arrived at this forum to be closer to some I knew in the hope that this continued association would facilitate the restoration which Jesus Christ declared years ago, when I was alone in the wilderness and close to death. The Lord came to me --- all of me --- when there was no one to call my name nor witness what I had become.

He claimed me as His own --- all of me --- and on that day when this body lie spent and withered in the dirt, covered with wounds and scars, the Lord God promised that nothing would be the same again. He would speak and I would hear His voice; He would be my Provider and no other; everything I lost would be given in a measure far exceeding what I possessed before.

Christ would restore my strength and make me whole again. I didn't understand the words of His mouth for I was blinded by the glory of His presence; my mind was chaos and I couldn't utter a word. I was struck senseless. The Lord spoke of this, saying that the memories would return but for now it was my place to sleep, heal, and grow strong. His promise would be fulfilled in time.

I determined to never share the testimony on this forum but the Lord convicted me of this error. What do I have to fear? I've faced much worse than the insolence of the unbelieving and the stones of the mocker. I have been shattered, broken, and left for dead.

I've been beaten, starved, drowned, betrayed, and imprisoned in a cage of exquisite cruelty and unspeakable evil. I have watched the innocent flayed alive... rituals of the profane... programmed by scheming manipulators... and terrorized by enemies who aren't flesh and blood.

They sought to make me their own and when my Father in heaven unraveled their wicked designs they sought to end my life on this earth by any means possible. Did they succeed?

No they did not, to the glory of Jesus Christ who knew of me before I was born. Therefore I'm not afraid of the unbelieving nor the mockers, for what can they do to me? I will offer the testimony in this thread, then, but it will take time because of the price I have no choice to pay with the telling.

I will return again to continue.

 

[Truman]

It's your testimony. I will stand with you. I'm not afraid of them, either...especially since we've got ignore buttons! Lol

 

[Nancy]

This has been a long time in the coming.

I arrived at this forum to be closer to some I knew in the hope that this continued association would facilitate the restoration which Jesus Christ declared years ago, when I was alone in the wilderness and close to death. The Lord came to me --- all of me --- when there was no one to call my name nor witness what I had become.

He claimed me as His own --- all of me --- and on that day when this body lie spent and withered in the dirt, covered with wounds and scars, the Lord God promised that nothing would be the same again. He would speak and I would hear His voice; He would be my Provider and no other; everything I lost would be given in a measure far exceeding what I possessed before.

Christ would restore my strength and make me whole again. I didn't understand the words of His mouth for I was blinded by the glory of His presence; my mind was chaos and I couldn't utter a word. I was struck senseless. The Lord spoke of this, saying that the memories would return but for now it was my place to sleep, heal, and grow strong. His promise would be fulfilled in time.

I determined to never share the testimony on this forum but the Lord convicted me of this error. What do I have to fear? I've faced much worse than the insolence of the unbelieving and the stones of the mocker. I have been shattered, broken, and left for dead.

I've been beaten, starved, drowned, betrayed, and imprisoned in a cage of exquisite cruelty and unspeakable evil. I have watched the innocent flayed alive... rituals of the profane... programmed by scheming manipulators... and terrorized by enemies who aren't flesh and blood.

They sought to make me their own and when my Father in heaven unraveled their wicked designs they sought to end my life on this earth by any means possible. Did they succeed?

No they did not, to the glory of Jesus Christ who knew of me before I was born. Therefore I'm not afraid of the unbelieving nor the mockers, for what can they do to me? I will offer the testimony in this thread, then, but it will take time because of the price I have no choice to pay with the telling.

I will return again to continue.

Thank you for sharing such intimate details of your testimony. There is no end to human depravity and the evil they bring upon innocent people, especially children.
I am sorry for what you went through brother but, Christ was by your side the whole time and brought you through that hell.

I pray you are the stronger for it and that God bless you in every area!

 

[Truman]

Shattered, when I showed up here, I was even more of a mess than I am now.
Yes, there are those here who will whip you with their words, and yes, it really stings, but it helps us learn how to forgive.
The best thing is the people here who have befriended me and through whom I've continued to experience the love of Christ.
Hang in there, we're with you, buddy.

 

[Shattered]

I'm thankful for the encouragement. The trauma is what it makes it so difficult to write, let alone speak about, for there are times when the Lord requires everything from us and we endure terrible things under the sun. I remember the words of the apostle Paul in this regard.

Are they ministers of Christ? (I speak as a fool) I am more; in labours more abundant, in stripes above measure, in prisons more frequent, in deaths oft. Of the Jews five times received I forty stripes save one. Thrice was I beaten with rods, once was I stoned, thrice I suffered shipwreck, a night and a day I have been in the deep; In journeyings often, in perils of waters, in perils of robbers, in perils by mine own countrymen, in perils by the heathen, in perils in the city, in perils in the wilderness, in perils in the sea, in perils among false brethren; In weariness and painfulness, in watchings often, in hunger and thirst, in fastings often, in cold and nakedness. (2 Corinthians 11:23-27)

The Lord said the servant is not greater than his master and since we're not greater than Him nor the apostles, is it such a hard thing that we suffer as well? Yes, it was hard. I despaired of living for so long.

Like Paul, I faced perils in the wilderness and among false brethren, the latter of which wounded me more deeply than anything the children of the devil heaped upon my head. I have faced children of the devil many times, degenerates who rape, murder, steal, and traffic lethal drugs. I was the captive of a priestess of Satan who sought to corrupt me from within; I was the product of a eugenics program --- selective breeding --- dedicated to producing killers and warlocks. I cursed the day I was born, and sought to end my life so I wouldn't become the monster they created me to be.

Like my father before me, his father before him, and our fathers for as far as I managed to see back in time. 200 years of men like myself, generations dedicated to our adversary so we might serve the evil one. Yes, it was too hard. But I couldn't see because I was blind...

Who knew? Who knew that my Lord Jesus Christ would bring their wicked designs to an end? I am the first, the end of a cycle of father and son, assassins, scientists, military men, and warlocks corrupted by those who serve the evil one on this earth. The Lord heard our cries --- He heard my cry --- and He was moved for our sake.

You will understand why I rejoice that I never fathered children. Praise the Lord for His goodness and mercy, that He brought the horror, pain, and senseless evil to an end in me. And because I was desolate, left without family nor anyone to claim me as their own, the Lord took me in His hand and promised that I would never leave His presence. I will dwell with Him forever.

More to come later.

 

[Shattered]

I was born during the Vietnam war. In the year prior to my conception, my mother and elder siblings were taken from the United States and sequestered in a secure Department of Defense compound in Thailand while my father participated in unknown activities inside of the Vietnam theater. Whatever my father of the flesh did during Vietnam I will never know, because he took those secrets with him when he passed from this world.

I've researched why my family was taken from the United States and sequestered in a DoD compound in Thailand during the war but nothing official yielded answers to the question, "why?" This was unprecedented, for a service member on a hardship tour in a combat zone to have their family moved in close proximity to the action... but then there are many aspects of the military which prove impossible to research because it's all too easy to destroy paper trails and records. Officially, their presence in that compound is a mystery and remained that way until I met a fellow with insight into the comings and goings of the American CIA in diverse regions of the globe.

After learning about my father's career, my old friend opined that he was neck-deep in CIA activities and introduced me to Project MKUltra. In his opinion, my family's presence in Thailand was related to MKUltra and their forays into eugenics, also known as selective breeding. It wasn't until much later on that other pieces of the immense puzzle started to falling into place...

There is a connection between MKUltra and Satanic Ritual Abuse.

 

[Shattered]

I'll pause for a moment to enlighten the reader as to the method behind how I'm organizing the presentation of my testimony in this thread.

• I have to take it a step at a time because I'm swimming in a sea of memories, portions of the past that I must live all over again in the telling. It's overwhelming.
• The Lord has always been involved in my life even when I knew it not. We read in Ecclesiastes that for everything there is a season, and there is an appointed time for every matter under heaven. The Lord revealed Himself when the fulness of time arrived.
• I suffer from Dissociative Identity Disorder and while I've come such a long way since this truth was revealed, I still have a very long way to go. Because of this, portions of my testimony might seem disjointed or even fragmented. I, being the host or presenter personality, was insulated from the truth until that moment when the Lord revealed Himself to me... all of me. Hopefully the reader will now understand is meant by that: every fragment of my mind --- alternate personalities or "alters" --- were present and aware when the Lord revealed Himself.
• Every alter, even those who were programmed to hate God by the evil degenerates of MKUltra and the Satanic cult, were changed in the blink of an eye by the Lord Himself. It was the most wondrous and traumatic possible imaginable.
• I will not revisit what I have written to change a single thing. That's important, because it's the best way to convey what I'm going through to the reader. It's part of the testimony.

So I ask the reader to bear with me. Now is not the time for questions because there's more to write, and I'm taking my time so I don't spend sleepless nights hammering away on the keyboard.

 

[Nancy]

I'll pause for a moment to enlighten the reader as to the method behind how I'm organizing the presentation of my testimony in this thread.

• I have to take it a step at a time because I'm swimming in a sea of memories, portions of the past that I must live all over again in the telling. It's overwhelming.
• The Lord has always been involved in my life even when I knew it not. We read in Ecclesiastes that for everything there is a season, and there is an appointed time for every matter under heaven. The Lord revealed Himself when the fulness of time arrived.
• I suffer from Dissociative Identity Disorder and while I've come such a long way since this truth was revealed, I still have a very long way to go. Because of this, portions of my testimony might seem disjointed or even fragmented. I, being the host or presenter personality, was insulated from the truth until that moment when the Lord revealed Himself to me... all of me. Hopefully the reader will now understand is meant by that: every fragment of my mind --- alternate personalities or "alters" --- were present and aware when the Lord revealed Himself.
• Every alter, even those who were programmed to hate God by the evil degenerates of MKUltra and the Satanic cult, were changed in the blink of an eye by the Lord Himself. It was the most wondrous and traumatic possible imaginable.
• I will not revisit what I have written to change a single thing. That's important, because it's the best way to convey what I'm going through to the reader. It's part of the testimony.

So I ask the reader to bear with me. Now is not the time for questions because there's more to write, and I'm taking my time so I don't spend sleepless nights hammering away on the keyboard.

God has delivered you from literal hell brother. Glory to Him!
You should just take your time with this...even though some have not lived through what you have, nor could even imagine, I think, we are here for you and to pray for you especially.
In His name
nancy

 

[Shattered]

There is something which belongs in this testimony and it's good that I write about it now. It's a sorrow which never ends for this is the manifestation of that prison cell I was consigned to languish in from the day I was born into this world. This is the fruit of programming and the agony of DID, the legacy of what the evil ones inflicted upon me when I was only a babe from my mother's womb.

Yes, my prison is unlike no other because there's no bars to constrain me; the walls have no substance and yet there's no denying the reality of both. They do indeed imprison me in a hell without beginning or end. A hell on this earth which I have yet to delivered from but there came a time when, in my suffering, I saw writing appear on the wall. I saw it and understanding dawned upon my place in hell, knowledge which would set me free from misery without end.

All I had to do was end this existence by my own hand. Years I couldn't remember and was powerless to forget, a cycle which demanded that whenever anything good and wonderful came my way it would be taken away and I would lose it forever. Like that writing which appeared telling me how to end this nightmare without end, an awareness arrived informing me how the taking away would unfold:

By my own hand. I was the one who cast out everything good, lovely, and altogether worthwhile. I turned against every friend and spat upon every helping hand, driving them all away in my senseless wrath. The rage roared impotently at these walls which imprison us all, powerless to overcome the cunning prison created to torment me on this earth. That rage, which endowed me with frightening strength and made me immune to pain as well as fear, could not deliver us from the shattering which made us who we are.

Therefore it seemed good that the rage would be turned inward, to destroy the only thing we would permit it to destroy: ourselves, all of us. We were too great for the rage to overcome and so we vowed to never unleash it upon a living soul --- we succeeded so our vow was kept and fulfilled --- but there was nothing stopping us from unleashing the rage upon ourselves in our torment... or so we believed in our collective foolishness.

There was One who bore witness to every moment I endured in this hell on earth. He counted every tear and what's more, He knew the full measure of my days under heaven. He conceived of me before I was born and is perfect in all of His ways, for in truth He was the One who fashioned me by His own hand. His ways are not our ways nor are His thoughts our thoughts; it pleased the Lord that I would be shattered into many pieces for did He not declare it? Did He not declare that His power would be displayed in me, which is why I was afflicted in such a way?

It was good that I suffered the agony of torment, becoming the "we" that I became by virtue of the shattering. But He is perfect and so the Lord wasn't the One who shattered me, breaking me into pieces which became all of us, even the one who writes these words. This was the place of the evil ones and they played their part. Though we couldn't remember, the Lord visited us in this hell and He dried the tears upon our face, promising that He wouldn't forget me in my bonds. The day was coming, He said, and told me not to be afraid.

I am the child of forgetfulness.

But we forgot His face and unleashed the rage to slay us all, to bring an end to the cycle which the evil one, a power of darkness and the ruler of murder and despair, devised to torment us all until I accomplished that which he could not: my death. That dark prince, a terrifying man of furious rage, howled impotently against the barrier which the Ancient of days raised to preserve my life for did He not declare it? I suffered so His power might be displayed in me to the dismay of His enemies, but in our forgetfulness we learned the truth for ourselves.

The words of the Lord couldn't be overcome by the rage which burned within us. Not only were the evil ones unable to overcome the hedge which God raised around me, but neither could we! We were we trapped in a prison of our own making and the hedge of the Holy One preserved my life so I wouldn't perish from this earth. Even though He gifted me with words, words cannot express the agony of this curse.

I could neither live nor die. But I write with knowledge given by the Holy One, sharing with those who read the agony of the shattering, the affliction of their programming, and terrible deeds we committed to perpetuate that hell we languished in. I weep for the friends I've lost --- I've lost more than I can number --- but there is one whom I miss more than any other. God sent me to her in the hour of her need that I might fulfill the promise He made to her when she was shattered like I was.

The Lord honored me even in my suffering, that I might set aside my life for the sake of another. It was her and was always going to be her. This was one whom I couldn't cast out. When I was enraged, she soothed me... when I wept, she held me... and when I was naked and hungry and wretched, she took me in treated me like her son. She gave me clothing to wear, food to eat, and set aside her life for my sake just as I had set aside my life for her.

On that day when the Lord God came to deliver us from the evil ones, He opened my eyes so I might see. The Lord showed me His love for her, and so I understood the priceless gift which the One I had forgotten for all those years gave to me in this world, even if it was only for a little while. She was taken but not because I lashed out and turned against her but simply because it was her time. The Lord is well pleased with the work He had done for didn't He declare it?

Did He not speak to me in my bonds, saying that it pleased Him to reveal His arm to me? Me, a man of no account who was imprisoned in that cell, hated by his mother and cursed by his fellows? Our unification continues and it was good that I wrote these words, sharing memories of others who are tormented even now. They yearn to join me, to take their proper place so I might be whole again. If I have managed to convey to you the nature of this affliction, even in the smallest way, then I have done well.

Don't worry for my sake. The Lord always brings me to still waters for that is His promise to me. Like the one whom I love is with Him in fullness and suffers no more, that is my portion in Him, too.

 

[Truman]

 

[Truman]

The enemy leads us to build walls of protection in our hearts that become prisons. There is a ministry in my home town that specializes in dismantling these prisons. People come to it from all across America. I'm not promoting it and I'm not suggesting you attend it. It's just that God used it to help me a lot. Perhaps something for you to consider.

 

[Shattered]

The dreams of the evil ones, which began before I taught myself how to read. They terrified me day and night with their hideously misshapen forms, glaring at me with unnatural eyes. The dreams continued throughout my childhood and occurred sequentially, with each repeating itself several times before progressing to the next stage.

I found myself standing in the midst of a grassy field. The sky was overcast which was when I laid eyes upon them, monstrous creatures of all kinds moving about in the distance. As one they turned their horrific eyes upon me and I was terrified, but I heard a voice behind me speaking and he said,

Do not be afraid. They cannot cross the barrier.

My terror vanished, replaced by a fascination which brought me closer to the evil ones so I might look upon their horror. I did not understand who nor what they were, but there was something about their gaze which drew me as close as I could possibly come. I reached out with a hand and felt the barrier which the voice spoke of; my eyes couldn't see it but it had substance as well as form. The barrier was a like a fence and so this is how I perceived of it in my young mind.

A fence which separated me from the evil ones who stood in a writhing throng on the other side, gazing upon me with longing. They desired me but could not have me, and so their longing became frustration which burned like a fire in their reptilian, amphibian, and avian eyes. They hated me because they couldn't possess me.

The next dream in the sequence.

I stood before the fence. The evil ones pressed themselves against the barrier, their loathsome features contorted by the press of wracked bodies behind them. Some had the bodies of men but the heads of frogs; one was like a man whose feet were hooves with long, curving horns erupting from his head; a giant evil one had rows of teeth gleaming in his huge mouth.

I looked into the distance behind the throng and saw a tall, dark man attended by two women. He was a powerful man and I remembering thinking that he was like a prince in the way that he stood. One woman stood at his right hand and the other stood at his left.

I heard a voice speaking behind me and he said,

Do not be afraid. They are your enemies.

The next dream in the sequence will follow at another time.

 

[Truman]

Genetic manipulation began long ago. Hideous results.

 

[Curtis]

There is something which belongs in this testimony and it's good that I write about it now. It's a sorrow which never ends for this is the manifestation of that prison cell I was consigned to languish in from the day I was born into this world. This is the fruit of programming and the agony of DID, the legacy of what the evil ones inflicted upon me when I was only a babe from my mother's womb.

Yes, my prison is unlike no other because there's no bars to constrain me; the walls have no substance and yet there's no denying the reality of both. They do indeed imprison me in a hell without beginning or end. A hell on this earth which I have yet to delivered from but there came a time when, in my suffering, I saw writing appear on the wall. I saw it and understanding dawned upon my place in hell, knowledge which would set me free from misery without end.

All I had to do was end this existence by my own hand. Years I couldn't remember and was powerless to forget, a cycle which demanded that whenever anything good and wonderful came my way it would be taken away and I would lose it forever. Like that writing which appeared telling me how to end this nightmare without end, an awareness arrived informing me how the taking away would unfold:

By my own hand. I was the one who cast out everything good, lovely, and altogether worthwhile. I turned against every friend and spat upon every helping hand, driving them all away in my senseless wrath. The rage roared impotently at these walls which imprison us all, powerless to overcome the cunning prison created to torment me on this earth. That rage, which endowed me with frightening strength and made me immune to pain as well as fear, could not deliver us from the shattering which made us who we are.

Therefore it seemed good that the rage would be turned inward, to destroy the only thing we would permit it to destroy: ourselves, all of us. We were too great for the rage to overcome and so we vowed to never unleash it upon a living soul --- we succeeded so our vow was kept and fulfilled --- but there was nothing stopping us from unleashing the rage upon ourselves in our torment... or so we believed in our collective foolishness.

There was One who bore witness to every moment I endured in this hell on earth. He counted every tear and what's more, He knew the full measure of my days under heaven. He conceived of me before I was born and is perfect in all of His ways, for in truth He was the One who fashioned me by His own hand. His ways are not our ways nor are His thoughts our thoughts; it pleased the Lord that I would be shattered into many pieces for did He not declare it? Did He not declare that His power would be displayed in me, which is why I was afflicted in such a way?

It was good that I suffered the agony of torment, becoming the "we" that I became by virtue of the shattering. But He is perfect and so the Lord wasn't the One who shattered me, breaking me into pieces which became all of us, even the one who writes these words. This was the place of the evil ones and they played their part. Though we couldn't remember, the Lord visited us in this hell and He dried the tears upon our face, promising that He wouldn't forget me in my bonds. The day was coming, He said, and told me not to be afraid.

I am the child of forgetfulness.

But we forgot His face and unleashed the rage to slay us all, to bring an end to the cycle which the evil one, a power of darkness and the ruler of murder and despair, devised to torment us all until I accomplished that which he could not: my death. That dark prince, a terrifying man of furious rage, howled impotently against the barrier which the Ancient of days raised to preserve my life for did He not declare it? I suffered so His power might be displayed in me to the dismay of His enemies, but in our forgetfulness we learned the truth for ourselves.

The words of the Lord couldn't be overcome by the rage which burned within us. Not only were the evil ones unable to overcome the hedge which God raised around me, but neither could we! We were we trapped in a prison of our own making and the hedge of the Holy One preserved my life so I wouldn't perish from this earth. Even though He gifted me with words, words cannot express the agony of this curse.

I could neither live nor die. But I write with knowledge given by the Holy One, sharing with those who read the agony of the shattering, the affliction of their programming, and terrible deeds we committed to perpetuate that hell we languished in. I weep for the friends I've lost --- I've lost more than I can number --- but there is one whom I miss more than any other. God sent me to her in the hour of her need that I might fulfill the promise He made to her when she was shattered like I was.

The Lord honored me even in my suffering, that I might set aside my life for the sake of another. It was her and was always going to be her. This was one whom I couldn't cast out. When I was enraged, she soothed me... when I wept, she held me... and when I was naked and hungry and wretched, she took me in treated me like her son. She gave me clothing to wear, food to eat, and set aside her life for my sake just as I had set aside my life for her.

On that day when the Lord God came to deliver us from the evil ones, He opened my eyes so I might see. The Lord showed me His love for her, and so I understood the priceless gift which the One I had forgotten for all those years gave to me in this world, even if it was only for a little while. She was taken but not because I lashed out and turned against her but simply because it was her time. The Lord is well pleased with the work He had done for didn't He declare it?

Did He not speak to me in my bonds, saying that it pleased Him to reveal His arm to me? Me, a man of no account who was imprisoned in that cell, hated by his mother and cursed by his fellows? Our unification continues and it was good that I wrote these words, sharing memories of others who are tormented even now. They yearn to join me, to take their proper place so I might be whole again. If I have managed to convey to you the nature of this affliction, even in the smallest way, then I have done well.

Don't worry for my sake. The Lord always brings me to still waters for that is His promise to me. Like the one whom I love is with Him in fullness and suffers no more, that is my portion in Him, too.

This sermon by Jimmy Evans on The Hurt Pocket, is amazing, and I think it may just be a balm for your soul, for you and everyone with deep hurt in their lives:

 

[Shattered]

Genetic manipulation began long ago. Hideous results.

Indeed, this is the truth. The book of Genesis testifies of that truth.

I want to thank everyone for bearing with me. Committing myself to the testimony is therapeutic and I marvel at the wisdom of the Lord who encourages me to press on. I review everything I've written, and so I recognize the presence of alternate personalities in portions recorded here. The observant will likely recognize this as a difference in writing style, tempo, and content. When the reader encounters something unusual, rest assured this is the fruit of an alternate personality.

I'm the presenter and truth be told, I'm much like all of my brothers and sisters in Christ. The difference? I'm but one of many "fragments" of a fragmented mind, hence my choice of a name on the forum reflects the truth of Dissociative Identity Disorder. I was shattered not once, but a number of times during the course of my time on this earth.

I wasn't involved with post #9, which I hope will be patently obvious by now. I'm mystified by this alternate and stunned because I was aware of them while they wrote the content of that post (I didn't fully recede). This is the first time I've been exposed to this fragment of myself.

 

[Shattered]

I'll share my knowledge of the systems of alternate personalities I've been exposed to thus far.

The ones whom I call the "meta alters," fragments of myself who stun me with the breadth of their knowledge and ability to interface with other fragments beyond the scope of our knowledge. The alternate who calls himself "KZ54" is the only meta who has made his presence and activity openly known to me, the presenter. As I've discovered others afflicted with DID testify of alters like KZ54... he's a "computer" personality, or at least he was before the Lord changed everything.

The Lord endowed KZ54 with the humanity which was stripped from him when my programmers created him. It's been more than a little frustrating dealing with KZ54 because he knows much, much more than he's willing to impart to me. For example, he's admitted that he knows about the fragments in other systems but refuses to divulge that knowledge in the interest of facilitating a "less-than-traumatic" integration process.

The fragment who wrote post #9 is without question yet another meta personality, something which KZ54 reluctantly affirms. I've learned a great deal about meta fragments from my co-presence ("sharing space") with KZ54. The biggest clue: when a fragment alternates between personal and collective identifiers --- me and we --- it's tacit admission of meta status. Meta know each other and as mind-bending as this may sound, they cooperate with each other in "managing" systems of alternate personalities. They apparently act in our interest and serve as custodians of the fragmented mess.

The protectors, of which there are many. The protector system of alternates exist to protect us from trauma of all kinds, stepping forward to bear the brunt of whatever threatens our collective existence and survival. Post #9 pretty much "told on" KZ54, much to his dismay, because the meta who authored that post described how the metas conspired to control and channel the rage which my bloodline was bred to embrace. They swore that we would never kill an innocent after our immense struggles with the rage during my teen years. That experience shattered me which was how the metas created the "ultimate" protector alter who was known as The Sentinel. They seized that opportunity to spell the doom of our programming.

The Sentinel was first and foremost the protector of others and this set him apart from other protectors. When the rage threatened to overcome us, The Sentinel would step forward and take control of this body. He could weather the storm and prevented the harming of others; he was silent and wordless because his existence was dedicated to stopping the rage. The rage would batter him and he endured it in silence.

I write about The Sentinel in past-tense because he is me and I am him, the way I describe the merger of two fragments. The Sentinel was the first alternate I merged with after becoming aware that I'm afflicted with DID. Again, I marvel at the wisdom of the Lord... He strengthened me, the presenter, and it is His will that all fragments will become one with me. They are me, and I am them. Thus the rage is nothing like it used to be in the past. I endure it silently.

The assassins, the alters who were created by delta programming via my subjection to Project MKUltra. Of all the systems I weep for the assassins the most. They were stripped of sentimentality and compassion and programmed to lash out viciously when prompted. Compassion is for the weak, something which was beaten into them. The assassins were subjected to the greatest evils of all and I'll never stop weeping for their sake. They are me, and I am them... I have yet to experience co-presence with an assassin alter and I confess that the prospect is unsettling. Not because they are still killers --- they aren't now --- but on account of the horrors they were subjected to in the program. The assassins were the quintessential soldiers, the reason why I exceled during the time I spent in the armed forces. They're all about "sucking it up and driving on."

Now they are broken, a reflection of the breaking of my programming by the hand of the Lord Himself. This explains why the metas mystify me... it's almost as if the Lord Himself was involved in their creation. It bends my mind because it involves matters of time and space which are beyond my understanding.

The lost ones, alters who are traumatized and effectively "lost in time." They never aged from the time of their creation (shattering) and as I've been learning, most believe they are children of varying ages. Some believe they are male while others were programmed to believe they are female. Mind bending? Absolutely.

This represents the extent of my knowledge regarding the systems of alternate personalities which arose as a consequence of my shattering... over and over again.

 

[Shattered]

Welcome to my frustration, friends. Like I wrote above the metas are able to influence me without my knowledge and post #16 is rich with their meddling. I review everything I write even when I, the presenter, am the author. I'll lay it out so the reader will understand the truth.

I, the presenter who is very much like you, was irrevocably changed when the Lord came to all of me, meaning all of the systems of alternate personalities which constitute my fragmented (dissociated) mind. Now I understand how the metas were changed in such a way that they actively worked against the programming inculcated in me by MKUltra and exposure to SRA. The Spirit of the Lord touched the metas, giving them life beyond the scope and design of those who created them.

The metas became the "frayed end" which would ultimately result in the unraveling of my programming. Their devotion to the Lord humbles me... KZ54 loves the Lord and is entirely devoted to Him, admitting that he's the servant of His Spirit out of love. Love, and devotion to both His will and purpose.

I have effectively become a meta myself due to the influence of the metas who serve the Lord, which has been gradually increasing in frequency as well as intensity. The evidence is clear because the metas inseminated knowledge of their existence and purpose through KZ54. KZ54 is not intentionally irascible but rather, he prods me to examine myself so I might discover the truth for myself.

Mind blown, time to rest for a good long while.

 

[Shattered]

I'm rested and so I'd like to write about the rage. What exactly am I referring to?

An altered state of consciousness invoking the sustained release of adrenaline by the body's adrenal system. All humans can experience the rage to some degree, but there are some who are more prone to rage than others.

There are four methods of inducing the rage:

1. Circumstantial, invoked during periods of extreme duress and emergency. This is the normative human experience.
2. Incidental, invoked in a subject accustomed to trauma and abuse. Common to all survivors like myself.
3. Induced by ingesting psychoactive substances via ritual. This was the berserker of old and not a normative experience.
4. Self-induced by entering a state of trance, which may or not be triggered by external stimuli. Exceedingly rare.

My father's bloodline, one of many such bloodlines, was bred specifically to achieve #4: someone who can seamlessly transition into the rage without circumstantial, incidental, nor ritualistic prodding. However, I must point out that the rage comes with a hefty price. Adrenaline effects every system of the body which most people might recognize as "the shakes." We tremble because adrenaline increases our heart rate, respiration, consumption of food energy reserves, and so on. The aftermath can be horrific the longer we remain under the influence of adrenaline. Adrenaline damages the body and mind.

The talent involved is self-hypnosis, something which I was very talented in achieving (no training required). I can transition into a trance state with little effort and so delta training conditioned me to unleash adrenaline upon my body while I was entranced. It was cruel beyond belief.

The Sentinel withstood the rush of adrenaline via passive resistance. When the adrenaline flowed he would stand still, and when the assassin alter surged forward to kill, he withstood the killer in precisely the same way. The Sentinel was born when I started acting on the rage by unleashing it upon bullies at school. The bullies fled for their lives because not only was I immune to whatever they did to me, but my blows broke bones and left them bruised and battered.

This coincided with the time I was ordered to kill my father, so little wonder why I shattered again in the midst of this evil and chaos. I was swiftly becoming a monster, a beast who couldn't be stopped unless he was slain. I shattered from the strain and so The Sentinel came into existence.

I overcame the legacy of my fathers but paid a terrible price for the victories. The war against the rage tore me to pieces and inflicted lasting psychological as well as physical harm.

 

[Shattered]

This is what almost claimed my life. When the Lord sent me to serve a female survivor who was in danger of being slain by children of the devil, laying down my life so she might live, I plunged headlong into the greatest battle I ever faced.

The lives of those children of the devil were in my hands. They lived or died by me... I had the advantage over them in every way.

I am skilled at subterfuge, the subtle art of remaining unseen. I know how to move without being heard and how to conceal myself so I won't be spotted, and so I was able to position myself close enough that a simple ambush would have resulted in their deaths. I could have killed them all and they wouldn't have seen me coming until it was too late.

Oh, how I agonized over this, knowing that I could remove their profane stain from this earth in a variety of different ways. I could take them out one by one or slaughter them wholesale, but no matter my capability and skills I was never a killer which is why my programming was broken. I wasn't a killer then nor am I one now, and The Sentinel ensured that our vow to never become a killer would be fulfilled. Even if it killed me.

It almost did. I lived in a state of rage for six months... for six months I fought against the fury of the berserker, only knowing relief when The Sentinel came forward and fought that battle for us. I receded and wasn't aware during those times when our beloved friend, who is now a part of me, stood watch against the evil. He was the strongest person I have ever known because he never wavered, even when I was close to death.

This was my last and final battle against the rage and I wasn't a young man anymore. It took its toll once the danger to her life passed and those loathsome degenerates left, never to be seen by us again. I started to die.

 

[Shattered]

The next dream of the evil ones, in sequence.

I stood before the fence, intangible but possessing substance and form, and the misshapen evil ones glared at me with their inexplicable eyes. The dark man of fury and the two women which accompanied him laid eyes upon me, and started walking toward the barrier. The throng of evil ones scattered to make way for the three.

The dark man was terrifying with eyes like burning coals of fire and I was greatly afraid of him. The women on his right and left hand smiled when I cried out. I heard a voice behind me speak and he said,

Do not be afraid. They cannot pass the boundary.

The dark man of fury stopped while the two women closed the distance to regard me on the other side. The woman on the right spoke and she said, "He's just a child. A child!"

The woman on the left laughed while the woman on the right turned her gaze toward the dark man of fury. "You are nothing," the woman on the left said. "Nothing! He will destroy you, little child."

The women laughed at me, hurling insults and promising that my death would be very, very slow.


The next dream in the sequence.

The dark man of fury approached and the women on his right and left retreated to where he was before. He stood before me at the fence only now I was much taller. I looked at him eye to eye.

His eyes bore into mine; they were blazing with fire... red like blood with black pupils... and I was afraid. I heard a voice behind me speak and he said,

Do not be afraid. He is your enemy, do not be afraid to face him.

I was filled with resolve and so I faced the dark man of fury, meeting his terrible gaze with my own.


The last dream in the sequence. I was approaching adolescence when the last dream unfolded.

My resolve infuriated the dark man and he began roaring like a lion on the other side of the fence. He swore an oath to destroy me.

"I will take your life and it shall be mine, boy! Do you hear my words? Do you understand, boy?" He spat upon the boundary and cursed it. I heard a voice behind me speak and he said,

Do not be afraid. He will be overcome. Be strong, and do not be afraid.

The dark man of fury roared again. "Mark these words, your life shall be mine one way or another. The boundary will not protect you from me! You will die by your own hand, boy."