James I’m writing in hopes you may be able to help me, or at least point me in the right direction. I watched your latest Youtube post, and I understand that you are being spread thin between everything that’s going on with you, so don’t let me burden you if you don’t have the time and energy.
I recently uncovered some weird things about my mother and the events surrounding my birth, and my life has been nothing but a series of strange events. I will only mention some things here, as I’d have to write a book. You know how it is. So here’s a brief summary, I’ll start with my birth:
I never knew my father, he left when I was a baby. My mother told me he was Special Forces in Vietnam, and Black Ops, though she didn’t/doesn’t have a clue what Black Ops is personally. She said he used to have violent night terrors from his experience in Vietnam. She met him when she came back to our home in MA, from the Siddha ashram in India
She says she used to have dreams about a man frequently, though she didn’t know who he was. Well she happened to go see a medium one time, and on the medium’s desk was a framed picture of the man from my mother’s dreams. He was Swami Nityananda of the Siddha lineage. So she immediately left to India to seek out this man’s ashram, and had many strange happenings which I won’t get into here.
As soon as she returned to Massachusetts, she sought out a male partner to have a child with. She knew my father for only a couple months when she got pregnant and had me. My mother has split personalities, and I believe she is schizophrenic. She has been seen and accused by her own family of being possessed, when she pulled a knife on her father one night and her eyes were rolled in the back of her head, and her hair was standing up “like it was out of a movie”. So fair to say she’s got some issues, to say the least.
A month after she met my father (about a month before she conceived me), she was heard having a 2 hour phone conversation with him at 1 in the morning about blood types…. strange. I found this out through my Aunt and Grandmother just recently. Also, last summer I located my father’s phone number and gave him a call. It was the first time I’ve ever spoken with him. I asked him questions about what when on around my birth and when I was a baby, and he simply told me that my mother “was into weird shit, and just used [him] for sperm”, and he said once she had me she pushed him away and disappeared. This part I know to be true, because my family affirms she did disappear, from everyone, for at least several months.
When my father said my mother was “into weird shit” I thought he meant Magick, because she has told me many times about how she used to be into magick and dabbled with it, together with my aunt . Well, when I got off the phone with my father I called my mother to question her. Everything went smooth until I asked about her involvement in magick around the time of my birth. This shouldn’t have been a hot-button issue, as she’s been open thus far (at least I thought) about her involvement in magick, but instead she responded by screaming and cussing at me, and told me I should feel lucky I didn’t end up like the abortion she had before me! It was like what I’ve heard you call an ‘alter’.
I was shocked! She even denied EVER having ANY involvement in magick, which is really strange. It’s clear to me that my mother is hiding something about my birth, and my father simply doesn’t want to talk to me. So there’s that…
Now fast-forwarding to when I was about 7. I used to wake up almost every night with sleep paralysis, though I don’t think it was actually sleep paralysis, this is just what doctors call it. I also used to have lucid dreams and horrible sleep-walking fits at this time where I would get out of bed, pull a chair up to the front door so I could reach the locks and unlock the door, and leave the house! One night my mother followed me to see where I’d go, and she said I walked down the street to a movie rental store, walked inside and to the back of the store, took a movie off the shelf and just stared at it. At that point she turned me around and I simply walked all the way back to my bed.
Other strange events happened around those years as well, but I want to keep this fast-paced so let’s fast-forward again to when I was 12. I had just moved to a new town with my mother and new step-father. I didn’t know anyone in my first semester of 7th grade so I pretty much focused on my schoolwork, and got Honor Roll. Well, second semester came around and I had been making some friends, who were class clowns, and I got a few C’s and a D. Sooo my mother decided that my drop in grades must’ve meant that I was depressed, so she brought me to see a shrink. The quack she took me to see misdiagnosed me with depression and suggested I be put in a mental hospital where I could be ‘better treated’. It was at that point that my mother pretty much signed me over to the doctors, and I spent the rest of my teenage years in institutions. [Oh and by the way, that first doctor I saw, got stripped of her license after multiple lawsuits for misdiagnosing other patients, and getting them hooked on certain prescription medicines.]
I’ll try to sum up my whole experience in these places, and put it all in a nutshell, as there’s far too much to mention. But basically I was being drugged and beaten at almost every place I was. One hospital in particular, The Children’s Hospital I think it’s called in Amesbury, MA, drugged me up about three times a day with Thorazine shots to the ass for as long as I was there, which was about three months or so, though I’m not sure because my memory is hazy around that time. From there I was transferred to Hampstead Hospital in Hampstead, NH, where I was immediately put on bed rest so I could detox from all the Thorazine in my system, which they said I had near-fatal levels of Thorazine in my system. I have no memory at all of the first two weeks I spent in Hampstead – the time doctors said I was unconscious and detoxing and almost died… allegedly – and a lot of my whole experience in that hospital is hard to recall.
I remember Hampstead turned out to be much worse than Amesbury, as far as the physical and mental abuse. The staff there gave me concussions on a few different occasions, as some of them enjoyed their routine of bursting into my room, beating me up and dragging me down to the ‘Quiet Room’ (empty room with padded walls and no windows) where they’d leave me, sometimes for days on end. I also remember waking up about 3 times a week, where I’d be in bed and I’d have a few doctor’s and staff standing around me and a nurse would be kneeling down with a needle in my arm.
I was also being used as a ginuea pig for drugs that hadn’t been released to the public (experimental phase), and I suffered through horrible, sometimes scary side-effects. I was typically taking about 20 different pills twice a day, and I was an absolute zombie from them. I couldn’t think right, I couldn’t speak right; when I tried to communicate what I was thinking, my words would come out completely different than what I was intending, and it wasn’t simply that I was unskilled at expressing my thoughts, it was more like my thoughts were being intercepted right before I could communicate them, and a different message was being inserted AS the words came out of my mouth, and in the end I was actually saying the COMPLETE OPPOSITE of what I was thinking! It’s hard to explain, but it was as if I had no control over my own words anymore, like I was simply an ‘onlooker’ trapped in this body which I had no control of. It was a horrible experience.
My mother didn’t help me, in fact she thought I was just lying to her so that she’d ‘feel bad and take me home’. It was hard for me to get phone calls after I tried telling my mother what was going on there, as the staff would be by the phone with me and they’d hear what I said, but once they saw that my mother didn’t believe me the abuse got much worse. I think my mother was a complete puppet to the doctors who held me captive. They were the ones calling the shots, not her. It was crazy, and it nearly drove ME crazy. I was trapped in a waking nightmare with no way out!
This was the ‘norm’ for me from the time I was 12 until about the age 16, when my mother finally pulled me out of institutions on 9/11, when my aunt died on the second plane that crashed. She was the stewardess who allegedly wouldn’t let the terrorists into the cockpit, and ended up getting her throat cut with a box-cutter before the plane even crashed. So I guess this spooked my mother enough to pull me out of institutions, but I was still under heavy supervision by doctor’s, and even while living at home I was constantly being brought to different clinics and shrink offices, and put through all sorts of sleep studies and cat-scans, etc.
Once I turned 18 and was a ‘legal’ adult, I got off the meds cold-turkey (which had a pretty bad effect on my thyroids, but I wasn’t trying to be ‘weaned off’ under doctor supervision), and I went out to see the world as an independent.
I’ll fast-forward a bit again, to when I was about 22-23? I met up with a kid named Josh, and we became pretty close for a time. Well maybe a year before I met him, someone pointed out that I had a hole in the back of my neck, which I jokingly replied “Yea, I got micro-chipped when I was younger by the government”. And a few months after meeting Josh I found out that he and I had been at the same institutions when we were younger, AND he had the same hole in the same exact spot in the back of his neck as I do. At that point I began wondering if perhaps I really WAS micro-chipped.
Upon recently hearing some weird things surrounding my birth, and seeing my mother flip out when being asked about such things, it’s really made me want to get to the bottom of all this. I came across your videos the other week, and so far you seem to make the most sense out of everything that I’ve experienced. Like you, I just want to find out what the hell is going on with me; trying to make sense out of everything. You’re a lot more knowledgeable on this area of information than I, and I’m hoping maybe you could give me some advice on how I might be able to get to the bottom of this.
The X-ray picture is not of me. I only used it to illustrate where the hole is on my neck. The hole is about a millimeter in diameter, and I personally feel that the hole leads directly to my vertebrae, and that perhaps the implant is in the bone. I don’t know barely anything about implants, so I can’t say.
I look forward to hearing from you again James