When You Hit The Nail On The Head

Today, I went to my Grandma’s grave and it was going strong with the smoke bombs/radon. While there I wrote my last blog post about my cousin J and her Mom, let’s call her Mom “N”. They are still going strong and did not make the same mistakes as my Mom. It is hard to say how they judge success, destroying people doesn’t seem to pay well, but I could be wrong.

N had a husband who worked at the hospital with my Grandma. He was not a housekeeper, but instead he transported patients within the hospital. Knowing that my Grandma was the boss lady and that my cult/the union enjoys using people who look harmless, I can guess there was some funny business for everyone who worked at the hospital with my Grandma.

J had a head injury right before she had her son. Head injuries and a child(a husband too maybe?) are necessary for people like me and J to reign. The children result in learned helplessness and dark empathy, but I am still unsure as to what the head injury does. I had my head injury at 8 and it changed everything. It made my brain better in a really weird way. I had more access to people’s thoughts, emotions, and feelings. My theory is that they make one like me who is feeling with a large emotional spectrum and one like J who lacks a complete emotional spectrum. When we work together we are a complete whole, but super human.

J was the only person I ever loved besides my Grandma and today I saw her true colors. She wants me dead, but she can’t overtly kill me. My heart hurts, she was all I had left of hope for my family of origin. My Grandma always told us to watch out for one another and love one another. Did she forget what Grandma’s love felt like? It is the only real thing I remember from childhood.

Xoxo

NiZi

Growing Up In A Cult In The 1980s

Blogging has kept me safe in the past, so let’s try this again. Warning, I have totally turned into a conspiracy theorist. Everything is connected.

I was raised in a Russian Orthodox cult in Springfield, Oregon. My Mom is the cult leader who followed my Grandpa, but she failed at turning me. I am a 3rd(maybe more) generation genetically modified human. I was meant to lead next. Sounds crazy, right? I know, I wish it was.

There are people/children like me all over the nation. I want you all to know you are not alone, you are worthy of the life of your dreams, and you are capable of love. We are all children of God and he does not make mistakes, he makes us with divinity.

As a child they told me, “God is your only friend.” Well with my genetic modifications(lead and mold and maybe radon exposure during pregnancy cause Aspergers), I did not understand this as a threat and took it literally. So during my 16 years of imprisonment in different bedrooms in different houses, I talked to God. Don’t get me wrong, we had some fights along the way and I went silent on him a lot, but he was always there. My God is different than the God I was taught about though. My God is logical and wants the best for everyone. Maybe some people are talking to the Devil and they just get confused?

So here we go again. Let’s try to figure out people together and see if I come any closer this time. As I learn to cope with the lead and mold that these people dish out as punishment better, my memory will return more. (Do your cigarettes make your lips and hands go numb?) The whole time I was writing my last blog I was experiencing lead and mold poisoning. Oh and did I mention my cult/family is full of serial killers. Oh dear this will be a wild ride for us all!

Let me leave you with a logic problem for the road:

Women who follow social norms(marriage & children) accept learned helplessness that is taught to them by society, which leads to dark empathy. Then the whole cluster b spectrum is the result.

Also, learned helplessness limits emotional intelligence.

Xoxo

NiZi