Blog #42 Published: 2019-01-18
Authors Note: Through my own expansion, my perspectives have naturally changed and will keep changing as long as I choose to keep learning and growing. Therefore, information and knowledge are never set and imprisoned by my mental mind. This leaves a flexibility to grow. Please take this into consideration in your own life journey and also when reading my blogs.
With Love – Rebecca Barron 20.11.24
When I woke up in 2010, I started to put my life’s jigsaw pieces together, which is part of the waking process. I still don’t have all the pieces of the jigsaw but the ones that I do have, have brought a lot of clarity and understanding of who I am. Because of that, massive changes have occurred in my life and how I live it.
I believe this is why we are here. We are here to try to understand ourselves. To breakdown and heal the traumas and negative beliefs and get back to who we authentically are. It doesn’t happen overnight or even in months, it’s a life long journey and not even just one life, it may take several.
One large piece of the jigsaw landed on my lap a few years ago. I was told that I had been programmed, mind controlled as a child. This is where they traumatise a child so much so, that their mind fractures and they can program many different personalities into that child. The child has a handler who does the programming, and that child can be used in many different ways from sex slave to assassin. The child has no conscious memory of the programming and lives their daily life unaware of what has been done to them.
Being told I was programmed was unbelievable. I didn’t have any signs of suffering multiple personality disorder or suffered any missing time or any of the other telltale signs of a programmed slave. It didn’t add up.
However, it has become apparent over time that I was in a mind control program run by the Freemasons and the person who was conducting this was my best friend’s dad. The reason I didn’t have those telltale signs of programming was because they failed. They were unsuccessful in their efforts to fracture my mind and program me.
I do now have memories of some of what went on as a child. My handler’s name was Ken. From the outside looking in, he comes across as an upstanding citizen, a good business man and dedicated father and husband however the darker aspects are far harder to see.
One of my memories with him was when I was in his house, I was 4 or 5 years old. We were in his dining room. I was naked sitting on the floor and in front of me was a large bucket of water. Ken grabbed the back of my hair and dunked my head into the water quite violently and pulled me back up, he did this action three times with the last one keeping me there, so I had no chance to breath at all.
As my tiny legs and arms tried to flight, kicking and punching for my survival, my body started to lose energy and started to go limp and at that point Ken pulled my head back out of the water. My exhausted body fell to the floor, gasping for air. I could feel Ken’s anger and frustration, but at that point I was unsure why. Ken ordered his friend to rape me, but this man refused, and an argument kicked off. Ken stayed calm but the other man lost his temper.
I was too exhausted to care either way, being raped or not to be raped. I didn’t have the energy to even worry. Ken’s friend left and I knew that the rape was off the cards, and I was safe. Ken never raped me. Well, he never raped me with his own anatomy, he did use vibrators, or he just took me to other men, to drive more trauma into me. He ordered me into his bedroom and threw a towel over my naked body. Cold and numb. I didn’t know what was going to happen next, but I couldn’t even think that far ahead or even worry, just surviving in the moment was far more important.
I fell asleep and Ken came and woke me up and ordered me to get dressed. I was going home back to my mum. Relief swept over me as I climbed into his car. Ken however was still angry and frustrated. He stopped outside the local shop and turned around and started shouting at me, not sure what he was saying but I felt the anger and frustration that he had, was due to the fact that he had to break me mentally and he had a deadline to do it in.
There was a satanic night which seemed to be important to him and he had to break me somehow before that night. He was angry because he didn’t have the access to me like he wanted. I wasn’t his kid; I was his daughter’s friend so gaining access was trickier and the time was running out. He dropped me off home. It was a relief to see my mum. Ken obviously lied about what I had been doing all afternoon, but I had obviously learnt to keep my mouth shut too. I curled up on the sofa and fell asleep. Sleeping was a great escape, and I used this coping mechanism for many years. I can sleep anywhere. It was a way to hide from the madness and emotions that I called my life.
The satanic night came, and Ken came and collected me and we headed to a large stately home in Derbyshire.
What I can remember was being outside at night with a dozen more children. Even though I was only 4 or 5 years old, I was one of the oldest children there. We were standing in a semi-circle. Behind each child was an adult dressed in their robes and in the semi-circle was a fire.
I must have been to these rituals before as I knew the protocol. After this fire ritual, I knew one of these children would be picked to be sacrificed. I just remember feeling relief that it wouldn’t be me, I knew it wouldn’t be me because they were using me somehow. It seemed I had something of value to them. I was unsure what that was, but this kept me safe.
The next memory was walking into the stately home and seeing the marble black and white chequered floor and the sweeping staircase to my left. Me and three other children with five adults headed to a room upstairs.
It was a small room. I was placed in front of an altar with a large book in front of me. To my right stood the other three children and behind each child was an adult in their dark robes. On the left side of me were two other adults but they were higher up, looking down at the middle of the room. The room was dark with only candle light to light it. I was so frightened. I had to read a passage from the book, it was in Latin. My whole body was shaking. My throat closed up and I couldn’t bring myself to read the words on the page.
One of the men looked at me, the whites of his eyes were yellow, and anger was projecting out of them. In the middle of the room opened a portal. The portal looked like something out of a sci fi movie and within this portal was life. Dark and frightening. The smell of death arose and hit me in the face. There appeared to be a being so dark and so unimaginably scary within this portal although I never saw the being, but I knew something very dark was in it.
A world had opened up and it was dark, and I knew if I read out the passage in the book that a life would be taken, it would lead to one of the children to my right being killed. This could only happen if I read the passage, and I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t be responsible for a death of another being.
Even with the programming that I had encountered, even with all the pressure of the adults and fear that I was in, I still couldn’t do it. I collapsed and passed out at the altar as the fear overtook my body and that is where my memory ends.
I had picked up many coping mechanisms to deal with the abuse that I suffered as a child and unravelling this is part of my journey. Just by understanding my behaviour and thought processes tends to clear the way and I can move forward. The one that is still with me, or I have recently become conscious of, is in order for me to cope with what I was going through, I created a belief that I didn’t need anyone. That I can stand solely by myself, without the need of any connection in my life, but in actual fact I did need connection and deep down longed for this.
I needed love and support, but I couldn’t express my feelings as a child, as too many questions would be asked. In order for me to protect my family from the darkness that I was suffering, I had to stay quiet. I didn’t want to destroy their reality, or bring any darkness, or any more pain into it.
I believed it would cause too much pain for them to cope with, so I kept these experiences to myself, but in actual fact I kept myself isolated and alone. However, it was that coping mechanism that stopped me reading out the passage, the strong sense of not wanting to hurt another, or put another in danger through me talking, was what saved me from anymore satanic rituals and hopefully saved the other child that night.
Remembering the past and this particular part has helped me understand why I find it very easy to block or cut people out of my life. If a difficult situation arises, I tend to go inwards. A protection mode, but really, I go into an old belief that I created as a child. A belief that I don’t need anyone. This belief protects the people that I’m blocking from my own emotional state, and it also shuts me down emotionally, so I don’t have to feel the emotions that have arisen.
Just writing this is tough, as it goes against what I programmed myself to do. In order to keep myself safe and my family, I didn’t express which in fact was what saved me that night, but I wish to change that belief and letting go of the loneliness is a journey that I long to embark on.
Expressing to one another is what keeps us connected and it’s the connection with one another that helps us understand ourselves which brings about change, freedom and happiness.