STORIES OF THE SILENCED

“The only real, true, permanent way to destroy your mind control is to work through the memories. It's unfortunate because it's unpleasant. It hurts to work through your memories; they have pain. Memories are not just made up of ideas, and thoughts and storylines, they are also made up of physical pain and emotional pain and sadness and distress and despair and all of those things are part of memories.” ― Alison Miller

SURVIVORS SPEAKING TRUTH

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The Story of the Silenced

Do you know? Have you heard? There is a hell that no one can imagine, not even in your worst nightmares. A hell that little ones, yes, very tiny ones have experienced. It is a hell almost as dark and painful as Hades itself. And to these little ones, it is one and the same. It’s called Satanic ritual abuse.

SRA is a hell that hates innocence and seeks its death. A slow, painful, torturous death, and revels in its destruction. It is a hell, that even as little ones grow older, it continues to invade the body, mind, and spirit of the individual and take away their future, their human rights, and all the joys of normal life.

It’s a darkness. An evil. Devilish and without conscience. It seeks blood and pain, shock and horrors, dominance and death. Every way to shame is imagined and put into practice. Every way to steal bits of the soul is implemented. Every kind of threat to silence is used. Power is their goal and innocence provides it. While extreme abuse and torture insures it.

Led by Psychopaths; individuals whose minds are warped beyond repair, they are bent beings, more demonic than human, disguised as wonderful people. World and religious leaders, protectors, teachers, healers, scientists, parents, etc. Their disguises are so complete that whole nations of people honor them, vote for them, cheer them, reward them and trust them unconditionally, oblivious to their secret activities.

And oblivious to the babies, children and teenagers who are silently waiting in chains and cages, in basements and homes, in forests and fields, in castles and embassies, anywhere and everywhere all over the world. Silently, silently waiting. Waiting to be called; to be taken to labs, to dark places, to universities, to other countries, to evil rooms where these human demons can once again twist their minds, steal their souls, and literally take them to the brink of death and back. All for the sake of evil.

These children, these teenagers, these young adults (if they should survive that long), are forced into a silence that continues throughout their entire life. A silence that even the ignorant world around them perpetuates simply because they refuse to allow them to speak and to share the tortures and shame that they have known from a very young age.

The evil ones threaten them into silence. And the world shames them into silence. And they are left with nowhere to go, nowhere to speak their pain, and be heard, and accepted. And so, they remain alone, imprisoned within their crying, broken soul. Utterly expelled and abandoned by the human race.

Fear of the experiences of these abused ones keeps most people from reaching out to them, expressing empathy, and honoring them for their enduring battle against evil.

No one will ever understand this level of abuse and evil. Even the abused ones themselves can’t grasp it. But it doesn’t require understanding to express love, empathy and respect.

Inwardly, the Silenced Ones cry to be allowed to heal and integrate their internal People, as well as to integrate into the human race, and be considered equals.

It is the constant hope of their hearts.

By Dw

Helping Heroes Heal

We don’t remember in the way remembering is supposed to be.

For we have carefully packaged our memories in special

Storerooms called “people”.

Some, (most) are Little people

And some are bigger;

But all are waiting…

Waiting to be opened and allowed to go free.

We need help from the outside to unpackage the inside;

To find the packages, and then to open them,

And to let the memories be seen.

So there are special Outsiders who take up that job

Who help us carefully, very, very carefully

Find each and every “storeroom” (the people)

And then coax the memories free.

These have to be special Outsiders…

Whose hearts are too big for their bodies;

Whose eyes are clear and see far and deep;

Whose voice is soft, gentle, never yelling or harsh;

Whose mind is sharp and understands;

Whose words don’t judge, cut, criticize or condemn;

Who are safe – in every way;

And whose arms are open wide - receiving, nurturing, and holding securely.

Special “packages” need special people

To help open them.

Outsiders, heroes in their own way, who know how to “handle with care”;

Who realize the packages are “fragile”

And who won’t drop, bend or break them,

But who lovingly and fiercely protect them.

We, the Insiders, are unseen heroes who have been to hell and back.

We have fought frontline battles

And have seen the whites of the Enemies’ eyes and felt their hot breath on our necks;

And we have survived….

And now we need the kindness, strength and care

Of the Medics.

For our wounds are huge and many;

They are Multiple….

Our wounds are so deep

That we need Outsiders who are willing

To sacrifice, to care;

To get down into the horrors of the dark, dirty, stinking trenches with us,

And to help our Heroes heal.

By Dw

Wisdom

The deeper I go, the more I get back in return.

In a garden, a plant grows from the roots buried deep below the surface of the soil.

In a relationship, lovers share their deepest fears, failures, and vulnerabilities.

In recovery, the deeper I’m willing to go, the greater my healing.

I used to say that I knew more about myself than anyone ever wanted to know. Most people go through life skimming the surface. They don’t need to understand the who, what, when, where, why or how of each emotion or thought. They act and react in the moment without giving each response much attention.

Not so for me when I was surviving in the face of fear, doom, suicidal ideation, triggers, and more. Recovery meant uncovering the past from the depths of my soul. Unlike most people, I examined every nuance before taking action, speaking aloud, or making a decision. (I didn’t want to make a mistake, after all.) More than that, I wanted to understand so I could change my behaviors, so I could grow in my capacity to live, so I could heal the very wounded parts of me. Since they live deep inside of me, I have to go deep.

Now here’s the curious thing about going deep. I felt out-of-control, incompetent, and afraid, but the process of going deep, then coming back to the surface, over and over again, made me smarter; it made me wiser. It wasn’t fun but, still, I learned who I was, what motivated me, the context of my suffering, and the contours of my fear.

I discovered my strength which grew out of weakness, a contradiction of terms that always boggles my mind. I began to live out Socrates’ admonition to “know thyself” as I embraced my many selves.

In understanding my life process, I began to heal and grow in all sorts of wonderful ways. Even more amazing, I noticed that people began to look at me as if I possessed some sort of wisdom. If they only knew where that wisdom came from!

Did you know that you’re a vessel of wisdom too? Each memory you dissect, each trigger you survive, each reaction you understand, not only helps you heal, but makes you wise. Over time, you’ll find that you have deeper insights than other people who haven’t had to go deep. Some of them may look to you as a mentor or guide who imparts wisdom.

Now, wisdom is not a gift I can give to you. Only you can give it to yourself by virtue of the hard healing work you engage in every day. You’re giving this gift to yourself, as we speak! So pat yourself on the back and say “thank you” for going deep and coming back to the surface with the gift of wisdom!

By Lyn Barrett December 16, 2024
Used with permission Wisdom for Multiples — Lyn Barrett

O, For a Hearing Heart

Why doesn’t the therapist hear me?

Why can't they see the depth of our pain?

It’s their heart that helps us heal.

A heart that can stretch far enough to overlook the defenses and anger, and the pains of someone who has been taken to the depths of hell and back.

It’s their heart that covers over us, giving us the shelter that we never had before.

It’s their heart that provides the light to see our way out, and the helping hand that lifts us from the sewage of our experiences; that spreads balm on the festering wounds caused by the minions of hell and the multiple atrocities that were forced upon us.

There were no hearts then.

And though we longed for them; we didn’t even know they existed.

There were only evil people and demons and darkness and things that have no words to describe them.

There was only the place where consciences don’t exist and the joy that was present was a joy that reveled in the hurt, shame, and destruction of people. A twisted joy, in twisted people, who twisted everything for us…everything.

And all we have asked for, is a heart that is willing to set Itself aside for just a little while, and let us be heard.

No matter how twisted our words come out. No matter how twisted our emotions are. No matter how twisted our perceptions are.

We thought that was the job of the therapist…to untwist all that they have twisted in us…by letting us say it…and then covering it with their heart…and through example, showing us what we have never known before…

Showing us a heart that covers all, bears all, endures all, letting us learn from them what true kindness is. What true compassion is. What true patience is. What love is. What caring means.

And showing us the joy that comes from self-sacrifice, instead of the death and sacrifice of others.

These are the things that this deeply hurting soul never knew. And never will. Until someone comes along and hears them, and spreads their heart out wide enough so they can learn.

A listening heart…that hears more than ears do.

It spreads, it covers, it lifts, it listens.

It speaks with with words that deeply hurting hearts hunger and thirst for.

It speaks with words that surround the soul with invisible arms of safety and comfort.

It speaks with words that nourish the soul to its very core and graciously lifts it to the place of peace, life, and rest.

And in that rest, there is healing.

And in that rest, comes awareness.

And in that rest, there is change.

And the deeply hurting soul finally finds that they have been heard…really heard.

And all the twisted things unravel and become straight, at last.

O, for that hearing heart that is truly willing to help us heal.

Written by, 16, and her Crew

Could I Be?

It takes a person with patience

one who can sit and listen

listen with the heart and

not the head.

It takes a person with courage

one who can go into the darkness

darkness of fear, confusion and loneliness

to find their truth

It takes a person with strength

one who can hold the weight

weight of many others’ stories

successes, failures and in between

It takes a person with perseverance

one who keeps going

going when all the odds are

stacked against them

It takes a person willing to stand alone

one who is not afraid to stand

stand for what is right

encourage unity and harmony

It takes a person with love

one with tremendous ability to have empathy

empathy for the ones they will lead

and their stories

It takes a person with all these things

patience, courage, strength, perseverance

willingness to stand alone, love

and empathy

But beyond all this, it takes a person with faith

one who trusts in the grander scheme of life

one who can trust that good is greater than evil

and all will be well

And I wonder often – am I that person?

By LivesInTruth

Too Much is Never Enough or in Other Words Never Enough is Too Much

Where are my words? Gone with the birds

Flew the coop, with a mighty loopty loop.

“This being is too much” she said

yet “i’m never enough!” screams in my head.

The writer has taken flight tonight

and left us alone in our plight

fending for ourselves we aptly seek

to find a phrase that when its tweaked

Speaks volumes in just a few words;

nothing befits those who heard

But this being is just too much

though never as such are we enough

to love another without strings

puppet to those who know of such things

as audacious we were to think we could

believe in love steadfast we stood

the sands of time they trickled down

the hour glass turned round and round

lest for it stopped a life would end

mother of all she will portend

But being is just much too much

and being enough is never as such

What is this nonsense that we write

what is this gibberish that takes flight

from our mind and through our hands

through our fingers to promised lands

promised of what one may ask

but No One can answer for that task

Of being too much all her life

and never enough caused all their strife

fly the coop with a mighty loopty loop

gone with the birds, there go our words…

By LivesInTruth

Dissociation...

The mysteriously hidden realms of the mind that no one else but the specially called are allowed to dwell in.

The magical mystical place that only skilled professionals know how to navigate and go to.

The inward caverns, with twists and turns and secret passages designed to confuse every outsider who tries to enter uninvited.

The place where one voice calls and many echo in reply.

The place of puzzles, ambiguity, enigmas and conundrums. Where secrets are kept veiled and even the residents don't know all that's hidden within.

Dissociation....

The powerfully controlling mechanism that puts to sleep or wakes up...that clouds and obscures, or sharpens and heightens the senses to peak performance.

Dissociation....

The sealed-up caves where emotions are held captive.

The uncanny, mighty method of protective living, so familiar to some, so baffling to the rest....so well designed that Outsiders don't even know it's there.

Our secret.

Our clandestine efforts.

Our covert, conspiratorial inner selves with hierarchies, authorities and Protectors who keep the gates secure until it's time to open them.

Dissociation...

The place where only VERY SPECIAL Outsiders are allowed in and ONLY after they pass many tests.

Dissociation....

The inconceivable...

Worlds within the world of the mind where the past remains, and constantly collides with the present, and both blur together into one.

Where the weight of dissociating rules the body and tires the mind.

And where all the pieces of the broken heart yearn to be whole.

Rantings of the Divided Mind

What has happened? Where have i been?

Lost within my mind’s dim.

Screaming rage, fighting fears

we thought had been gone all these years.

The struggle to remain aware

but losing fast our steely glare;

the point we catch reality

get lost in nightmarish scenes.

Tormenting, day in, night out -

spinning round and round about.

Dizzy now but clutching still

afraid to lose what we think is real.

Nobody knows how to feel

when No One goes about her deal

to see the light of burning truth

that life is real and not a spoof.

But such a cost that we all pay

for insanity to come our way.

Even she gets confused

when round again we start to lose

our grip when spinning so fast

even No One cannot last.

A scrambled mess we become

while panic sets under the gun.

A threat to life internally?

No One knows or so it seems . . .

But she is lost among the bits and pieces strewn throughout

from twirling round and round about

The game is real or life it is…

either way the cost is the same -

fresh wounds appear; from where they came

nobody knows. All are tired of the game

of figuring out who is the One

who did the deed and they are done.

Ready to quit give up the fight

no more split unite tonight.

But evil has other plans

and sends in demons to spin again,

until she collapses under the weight

they drive her still to reach the gate.

The other side has won again

another One from the mind’s dim.

Evil lurks all around

waiting for us to all fall down.

When we do they come again

to spin us round and round about -

forget what we know and drown us out.

Wounds remind of evil’s presence;

a warning to those caught in reminiscence.

Don’t forget to fight the spinning round about.

We are not alone inside;

there really is nowhere to hide -

not alive but never died.

II.

I’ll try again and leave the pen.

Just close our eyes the words will come

and type away we’ll soon be done.

A few more words is what I heard;

nonsense to me, it’s so absurd.

These rhyming thoughts seem so bizarre,

I feel as though I’m lost afar.

In hazy dreams, nightmarish screams

ring in my head that I am dead.

But knowing that I’m well alive

they scream louder still that she must die!

We can’t hold on when spinning round,

so many lost so few are found.

That is how evil wins;

each day that dawns each night begins.

Dizziness and headaches tell

how evil lurks and casts its spell

to punish One who’s gone astray,

keep them in line another day.

It is a fight we cannot win;

nowhere to hide even deep within.

For there you’ll find that evil resides

among the ones who live inside.

Poison in and poison out

spinning round and round about,

never win we never can,

there’s no escape from no man’s land.

Jetzt haben wir zu drehen und in der Nähe.

Wir wollen nicht so stoppen wir nicht ertrinken.

Jetzt umkehren und sehen,

dass all dies Realität wird und damit den Traum,

wieder zu starten.

Es gibt kein Entkommen.

Ich werde nie frei sein.

Es gibt keine Freiheit.

Ich bin nichts! Niemand.

Ich kann nie entkommen.

Er kann immer bringen mich zurück.

Es gibt keine Freiheit.

Es gibt kein Entkommen

No freedom, no escape,

no way out of this place.

It is not safe to go within

and seek the One who commits the sin.

If we do then evil disturbs

and spins around stealing words;

gagging all who try to speak

freezing time for many weeks.

Incredible pain then begins

when numbing sense wanes again -

punishment for seeking truth among the lies

is certain death but we can’t die.

Er kann immer bringen mich zurück.

Ich kann nie entkommen.

Es hat keinen Sinn zu versuchen und zu kämpfen

Why should we fight when our sight

is blinded by the lies of light?

shattered to the core

and yet once more the spinning gore.

When does it stop? Is there a way

to see in the blinding light of day?

Cutting truth and bleeding lies

where no One goes before she ‘dies.’

I’m not getting the message here.

I feel it was spoken loud and clear.

But I am confused by all this rhyme;

maybe I’ll try another time?

I want to scream that they are lies;

that evil does not reside

within the mind or the soul.

Those were lies that were told.

But deep inside the war rages on…

A battle that I cannot disrupt,

no matter how i corrupt

the evil side and their lies.

The truth is hidden too far within

the walls that keep the secrets safe.

If only they’d corroborate

what I try to say every day:

“I’M FREE, I’M FREE, I HAVE ESCAPED!”

But nobody hears what No One knows

and in one ear and out it goes.

No One believes that we’re never free;

there’s no escape not even for me.

She cannot dare to face the truth:

the lies they told stole her youth.

She wants to know that she’s alive

because she knows she never died.

But evil lies, shifts and spins

the tale they’ve told time and time again:

‘without them she don’t exist.’

Then no more can she resist.

The pain’s gripping hold in her mind,

freezing each part all in time;

the razor’s edge she doesn’t feel

it’s the blood she knows is real.

No One tells, anyone, what she’s done

she hides away when morning comes;

in plain sight she’s always there,

she just don’t speak she wouldn’t dare.

III.

There is something I cannot hide;

you see my soul is black inside.

Burned within, scarred without,

the devil won my faith ran out.

Truth be told we’re never free

when guilt has captured all of me.

The shame that binds

enslaves our mind,

silences the words

screaming to be heard.

We cannot bear to face the truth,

that deep inside evil resides.

Yet understand their motivation

to terrorize the inner nation

of wounded children lost in time,

frozen parts misaligned.

Shattered to the very core,

spinning round again once more.

My head is splitting the pain unreal -

no medication will help us feel

any relief from the grief

that we have caused or all the loss

that we have seen in one lifetime.

Wasn't it better when we were blind?

Seeing truth is devastating;

and yet there is no mistaking,

what they know I must learn

to be whole and in turn

to help them heal unending pain

that spins us round and round again.

I KNOW ENOUGH!

BUT,

I DON’T KNOW ANYTHING!

I want to scream

say it’s all just a bad dream.

Why must I learn of each one’s tale

in order to remove the veil?

Why can’t I just go along, a normal girl

among the world?

Why must my mind be so divided amongst itself?

and why is silence so elusive?

I try to sleep it’s not conducive;

but when i need to hear the chatter

that is when they all scatter.

I’m tired of trying to keep it all together;

it feels as though we’ve been through a shredder.

I HATE KNOWING

AND

I HATE NOT KNOWING!

So much pain, so much shame,

no more living life’s stupid game.

Evil will win at this rate;

we’re filled with so much vile and hate.

Rage and anger boil inside

and kill the peace we seek to find.

I told you before, my soul is black

burned within, no turning back.

This has to end somewhere, somehow;

we will have to figure out

a way through all the pain and shame,

anger, rage and guilty blame.

IV.

She takes no prisoners, the war of the mind;

but if you look you will find,

that within all are enslaved

torn up, broken down, beaten, depraved.

We cannot hide that deep inside

two worlds collide as side by side

good and evil both reside.

Each part that tries to see through lies

meets with death or certain demise.

For finding truth stolen in youth

means nothing less than seeing this:

that at the core we all know more

about the bloody game that fills us with shame.

Game or not it’s what we got

to learn to live now we give

our life of hell from deep in the well,

where murderous rage meets with the sage

wise parts inside who come to guide

mistaken rage to turn a new page.

Realize the lies that bound her mind

and sever the ties that do bind

her to the dark find the spark

of life’s true light seek peace tonight.

But murderous rage is not alone;

she’s one of many who made their home

in darkened well, the belly of hell,

where demons loom and truth is doomed.

It takes so much energy and such

to wage this fight with all my might.

What’s the point when every joint

aches and moans with every groan

from muscles that strain to bury the pain,

anger and shame that each part they do stain?

I tried again to find the end of this tormented tale;

but the light grows pale.

As we seek within the mind’s din.

no resolution or solution

to this war any more.

I want to scream

“Peace will be found!

Enough you’ve had to be bound

to dark evil lies, that sabotage tries

to seek the light of truth, reclaim our lost youth.”

But spinning round again once more,

evil spins its evil lore -

naïve parts become numb, as their minds do succumb.

Peace and hope are no match

for the terror that evil will hatch

and reign upon all those inside

who dare to speak against the lies.

God damn it!

Why can’t we even begin to see

the light of day in darkest night?

When terror reigns besieging fright,

wreaking havoc spreading grief

as spinning round we lose belief

that hope or peace will ever come

to still the panic of the gun

shot in the air. No, it’s not fair!

But just to scare anyone

who would try to outrun

terror’s reign and unending pain,

anger, guilt and raging shame.

I told you once my soul is black;

once it’s sold no buying back.

Did you know life’s worth in gold?

One soul is fine but I’m told:

“many from one is rarest treasure

and such it’s worth is rich men’s pleasure!”

So round and round we go again,

spinning fast falling within,

soldiers were made slaves we became.

How are we not to blame

when by our hands many have died,

others hurt because they tried

to break free from evil’s lair,

no matter what the cost or fare?

I tried to write this poem’s end,

but I have found once again

a spinning mess within darkness.

Perhaps tonight it is not meant to be

to write the final words for me.

It’s time to write once again

so we pick up paper and pen.

This ranting hasn’t found its course

through pleasantries or even worse:

through being fake and smiling wide

all the while trying to hide.

No, it’s been written with honest words,

an aching heart pulsing through verse.

Now what is left to say my friend,

you who’s followed this to the end.

The story doesn’t end you know -

it continues on as life does so.

Again with the rhyming that seems so forced,

stilted, stuffed and coerced.

Just a reflection of this rant’s theme,

how everything is not what it seems.

No one died we’re still alive

but now we hide and live the lie.

Once again come listen;

we’ll tell the tale of how we fail.

Rhyming again so bizarre,

haven’t we gone way too far?

One contact is all it takes;

their robot is what it makes.

Remind us once more that we belong -

without them we’d be gone.

STOP IT NOW !

Find a way, find somehow, now, today!

The poetry runs through my veins

without it we’d be insane.

Oh but wait, already there,

who’s looking out with steely glare?

When did we split from today

and enter in to old ways?

Past and present realign

now review what’s real this time.

Why are we rhyming what’s the use

when in the end we only lose.

STOP IT NOW

Find a way, find somehow, now, today!

Are we getting anywhere?

No one else seems to care.

Inside is quiet and still;

no one wanting to move or will.

We must find a way out somehow:

stop this crazy rhyming now!

How can this be automatic

when everything rhymes fantastic?

What you waiting for?

Writing this way is supposed to soar.

Not wait for the perfect word

to match the rhyme you silly bird.

So fly away and go find home,

be gone now leave us alone.

I don’t think I can stop rhyming now

that we’ve started but maybe somehow

I can reach into Neverland. Over the rainbow

Schließen Sie die Augen nach Neverland…

What a way to halt the process.

German girl, foreign princess,

prisoner at best forgot the rest.

No wonder we are all lost now.

So confused turned upside down,

spinning round and around.

Make it stop make evil leave

not welcome here there’s no reprieve.

Herunterfahren des Systems beginnen ProgrammTod!

NO! We will not succumb

to your plan so dumb.

No, go away you cannot stay.

You are not welcome here

this will not be a land of fear.

We will have victory and turn this story

around for good never thought we could.

You must leave now so take your bow,

the final one cuz you are done

tormenting us all we will not fall.

Dizzy or not we’ll ground here in this spot.

And now what’s real we’ll begin to feel.

So evil go, innocence may stay;

you are welcome here any day.

Now we’re done be free again,

this story finally has an end.

Innocence has triumphed at last;

sent evil forces back to the past,

from whence they came to play their game

of mind bending madness and torturing sadness.

The truth has finally come to light

a choice must be made in this fight.

For good to prevail, we cannot fail

to press on when times are dark

as truth always starts with a Spark.

Light will chase the dark away;

demons will flee when they see

that we are holding to the truth

and standing firm in our youth.

No matter what evil has done

it is our life that we have won!

The translations of German parts of this poem:

Jetzt haben wir zu drehen und in der Nähe.

Wir wollen nicht so stoppen wir nicht ertrinken.

Jetzt umkehren und sehen,

dass all dies Realität wird und damit den Traum,

wieder zu starten.

Es gibt kein Entkommen.

Ich werde nie frei sein.

Es gibt keine Freiheit.

Ich bin nichts! Niemand.

Ich kann nie entkommen.

Er kann immer bringen mich zurück.

Es gibt keine Freiheit.

Es gibt kein Entkommen

Now we have to turn and close.

We don't want to stop so we don't drown.

Now turn back and see

that all of this becomes reality and with it the dream,

to start again.

There is no escape.

I will never be free.

There is no freedom.

I am nothing! No one.

I can never escape.

He can always bring me back.

There is no freedom.

There is no escape

Er kann immer bringen mich zurück.

Ich kann nie entkommen.

Es hat keinen Sinn zu versuchen und zu kämpfen

He can always bring me back

There is no escape.

There is no point in trying to fight.

Schließen Sie die Augen nach Neverland…

Close your eyes to Neverland...

Herunterfahren des Systems beginnen Program Tod!

System shutdown begin program death!

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