Recognizing Blessings

Sura 93:1-3

1.   By the Glorious Morning Light,
2.   and by the Night when it is still-
3.   The Guardian-Lord hath not forsaken Thee, nor is He displeased.

When I think of the devastation and the exploitation which I received at the hands of a cruel and indifferent government, for many years, I was stunned, stuck, submerged in an emotional and spiritual level far below my innate capacity.  I became coiled in a suspended emptiness where in journeying through life I became like a zombie enduring an out of body experience.  There were no tears, nor was there laughter, no anticipation peaked, nor were there feelings of disappointment, hope, or joy.  

One day I was child, a daughter, an individual who belonged to a family, a culture, historical lineage and heritage which dating back centuries; then, what felt like the next moment, I was snatched, grabbed, kidnapped.

It was a sun filled day in London, England.  The bellowing white clouds were so pump and fluffy that while seated in the out-of-doors, transformed by the beauty of the day, awaiting the decision of whether or not myself and another child would be allowed to attend the annual Piccadilly Parade,  momentarily, I did not experience the childish anxiousness of jumpy anticipation.  

My fellow cohort did not share my calm appreciation of the day and he had paced throughout the palace like an animal of prey hunger for a conquest.  My father was in diplomatic services which yielded the fact that the family knew people from all over the world some of which actually lived in palaces.  As a child rather you live in a modest home, a mansion, a hacienda or a bubble when there is a parade in town, there is the uniformity of the wonder within a child's imagination.    

I had retreated from the palace in consequence of my friend's nervous pacing and constant questions as when the adults would make a decision.  Being a reticent person naturally, My friend, (well, let's call him John), might as well have been disassembling my emotional components.

"They always wait till the last minute to let us know anything. Why do they constantly take away any enjoyment of fun things that are planned?  A parade, it's just a parade.  What bad thing could  happen at a parade?"

I, of course, did not have the answers to the flurries of question directed toward me, the walls, the floor, the many rooms, or, any other person or object within John's vocal range, which he most certainly knew; nevertheless, there seemed to have been an expectation of me.  That being that I should have been as frustrated and  as annoyed as he where the wishy-washy decision-making adults were concerned.  

The adults did make a decision and John and I were allowed to attend the parade.  And the answer to his question as to what could happen at a parade is contained in the second paragraph of this posting; Snatched, grabbed, Kidnapped.

For well over twenty years I did not remember any part of my life prior to being subjected to the technique of Mk-Ultra.  The complexity and mystery contained within and behind the internal walls of amnesic cells.   I am astonished at what was forgotten.  Amazed that I still have a great deal which I do not remember and graceful that again, I am able to feel hope, joy and the prayerful anticipation that one day, be it the will of God, and my own personal determination, all will be returned to me. 

I, of course, can not get back the years taken from me.  The years away from my parents,  children,  friends, my professions,  my rights, and in many ways my life.  I must believe or rather choose to believe that things happen for a reason in life.  As I have mentioned prior, I was a gifted child.  Placed in an accelerated education program at an early age.  My life of accomplishments started early and my contributions to the global society of which I belonged were becoming eminent, until the day that an entity called government decided that the gifts given to me by the almighty were disposable due to the entities' self-interest.

Although, I could and in my novel will tell of the unbelievable torments, traumas, exploitation that happened in my life.  I will also tell of the phenomenal spiritual occurrence  which have brought me back from despair, feelings of hopelessness and uselessness.   Regardless of the tragedies of life.  It is essential to recognize the blessings.

Ambivalence

 Man's original food is the light of God;
           material food is not for him;
                    but from disease,
       his mind has fallen into delusion
that day and night he should eat only this food.
                He isle, weak, and faint:
             where is the food of by heaven
                     which has starry tracks?
               That is the food of the chosen,
           food eaten without fork or throat.

Rumi's Daylight 


   I have been negligent where posting to my blog is concerned.  It is not that I don't value the wonderful opportunity of having an international theatre for voicing my issues and concerns; the fact is that at times emotionally, spiritually and physical, I need to direct my energies toward creative healing matters like meditations, massage and prayer.

     With that being stated, I must also acknowledge the fact that avoidance and denial are still a factor in my attempt of full recovery.  One of the most important elements of progress toward recovery is having the ability to be grateful. It's a rainy day where I currently live.  A misty, drizzle which has lowered the previously scorching temperature.  Just yesterday, the extreme heat zapped my physical energy leaving many outdoor chores incomplete.  Early this morning with a wide smile on my face, I grabbed my umbrella, eagerly left my apartment, anticipating a favorable interaction with the day.

     I, of course, was very pleased with the thirty degrees decrease in temperature, especially since,  as a way of contributing to the community in which I live, two day a week, I volunteer and deliver meals for the Visiting Nurse Associations' Meals-on-Wheels program.  My volunteer efforts are also a way of me getting away from my personal introspection and viewing life from outside of a mental encasement.  Thoughts, like rain, can saturate. 

     Prior to being used in the Mk-Ultra Project, I was a very successful woman.  Since I possessed a very high IQ, I was entered into an accelerated educational program by age eleven or twelve.  I have only fragmented remnants of those educational years, but, oddly, I remember one lecture type classroom, one professor, one blackboard which occupied the entire front wall of the room and one classmate, a prior friend.

     Although, gratitude pulsates through my daily thoughts, on a secondary level, I question the injustice which is a constant seam in my life.  In the concept of recovery, it is impossible to regain the loss years. The years when I could not be one of the primary influences in raising my children.  The long period of time when my gifted talents lay dormant. The years away from precious friends to say nothing about parents, a husband and most especially self.

     For a while I was having sessions with a psychiatrist and he asked me one day who did I miss the most.  When I responded, "Me"'  after making the comment, I immediately enquired, "Does that make me sound self-center or vain."
    
     "No," Doctor Miller responded, 'That is exactly the answer you should have given."

     I am currently working with an editor with the objective of having my manuscript published within a year or less.  It is important, not exclusively for the survivors, but for each society that wants a civilized and humane management of its judicial system to know and to acknowledge governmental misconduct and inhumane practices.  Humanity has such enormous potential, I question why the masses  allow a demonic few to corrupt and deface our  ethos.

     

Accomplishment

Today is January 29th, 2014 and it has been a while since I last posted a new article on this blog.  I started this blog to raise awareness regarding Mk-Ultra as well as to have an emotional outlet for voicing the fact of being a survivor of the experimentation program.  Recently, I found out that I had inadvertently violated a name criteria and was blocked from creating new post.  I am hoping today that Google had accepted my name consistency and allowed me back onto my blog.

I still have many emotions and situation to log on this avenue of international communication.  I want to express the mental, spiritual and physiological results of having been treated like a non-human, an unimportant being, an expendable gnat.