I don’t have a PHD.

I’m not a scientist or a psychologist that can explain intellectually what is going on in the brain of one of these sick fucks. I can however share my experience of having been around a sociopath and the effect it’s had on my life.

I’m doing this because by sharing my story it gives others the courage to share theirs too.

I’m doing this because it has to be done.

Now, today, somewhere to someone, this is happening and that it needs to stop. The only way for it to stop is for people like me to come forward and say no. People like me to tell others what it does and how it destroys you. It takes people like me to have the courage to bare their souls.

My father was a sociopath.

I don’t believe he started off that way. I believe that like me he was an empath; highly psychic, sweet, gentle and too sensitive for this world. He was abused. I have no idea when it started. I do know that by the time I was born my father was a Freemason. He was into black magic and joined a Satanic Cult. My brother found the lodge book when he died.

My father sacrificed me.

The first memory I had was a flashback at 14 years old. I was so small I could barely walk and he was dragging me through a forest. I was beyond terrified, people in dark hoods, chanting carrying fire torches.

The rest of the memories didn’t start coming back until I was 33.

My life in between was a series of sexual abuse, physical abuse, self-harm, addictions, trauma and attempted suicide. I didn’t know what was wrong with me. I was frozen inside. My body felt numb and dirty.

My entire family was toxic.

I have written about some of what happened but this is how it all began.

I was a sacrifice. In one of the rituals they baptized me into Satanism. They tied me up. They cut open animals. Symbols were painted over me in blood. They put an inverted cross over my womb. I was a toddler. They used me for their disgusting sick rituals and then they violated me. I don’t know how many rituals I was in.

I do know the damage it caused to my soul.

A baby has no protection from such evil. In order for it to stop a child will do anything. The terror and fear I experienced was so extreme that to escape I would leave my body.

That is where the mind control comes in because once you disassociate they have you.

You have already left self. In order to survive your mind creates new personalities; personalities that they ‘suggest’. They scare you beyond anything you can imagine, make you drink blood and fill you with their evil.

When you become conscious again they ‘comfort you.’

You learn that sex and fear are the same. You learn you must submit or they’ll kill more animals or do it to other children. I was pulled out of the rituals before I was raped. However, the sexual abuse, the black magic and the torture I received ripped my soul wide open. It left me paralyzed, left me frozen in my own eternal hell. I carried that dark frequency with me everywhere.

At 14 I began to self-harm.

At 21 I tried to kill myself. I held a bread knife up in the air and threw it down across my arm with all my force. At 23 my boyfriend tried to strangle me to death. I was used to violence, it was regular. By 24 I was a stripper. I carried on self-harming and self-medicating on drugs and alcohol from 14 years old until I left the UK. I didn’t stop after that. It just began to slow down the more work I did on myself.

The men I picked in my life were fucked up.

How could I possibly find a relationship that was good for me? All I knew from my upbringing was fear, exploitation, betrayal, abandonment, sexual abuse, physical violence, neglect and punishment.

Even as I got older and healed myself more I still picked men that loved me but abandoned me or betrayed me.

It may have been on a smaller scale but it was still there. Men that couldn’t put me first. I never had that.

My father was a sociopath.

He would change. He would turn from Jekyll to Hyde. My step mother was involved also. She’s still alive. We have no contact.

I’m most of the way through my self-healing but what I went through is something that you cannot imagine.

It is a place so dark, so sick and so disgusting that it is impossible; unless you have been there too.

As a result of the ritual abuse, for the first 20-30 years of my life I experienced rape, torture, being beaten and manipulated.

I repeatedly attracted the same energy.

My relationship with my father I cannot forgive. I cannot rest until every part of him is out of my system, until I am completely healed. On a spiritual level I can understand that he must have been so tormented that this what he chose.

On a human level I say to him and every sick fuck out there doing this shit ‘Fuck you.’

Fuck you dad for being so weak and pathetic that you dumped it all on me. You died of cancer. I even nursed you through it and took care of you. I held your hand when you died, I was there for you. That’s before I remembered. I had to be the strong one.

Fuck you.

You were my father and you were supposed to protect me. My father was a sociopath. He slaughtered my soul and it’s been over a decade picking up the pieces.

The only way out for me is to keep healing.

I no longer have post traumatic stress disorder. I’ve healed disassociation personality disorder. I’ve rescued the multitude of child fragments that are still crying out to be loved, to be heard. The parts that were still tied up covered in blood. The parts that blamed themselves for the animals they tortured and the other children they hurt because I couldn’t protect them.

I was a toddler and I couldn’t stop it.

I’ve been in intense therapy for nearly two years now. Before then a decade of spiritual healing and yoga, meditation – you name it I’ve done it. It helped but you can’t escape the healing you need to do on your emotional self.

That’s why I hate New Age spiritual bypassing.

Anyone tell me to meditate through this I will rip their head off.

It would have been easier to die than do what I’ve done. Still now remnants of my past come back and haunt me. I’m strong I know that. I have people that love me. People look at me and think my life is good but they don’t see me the days I go down.

They didn’t see when my hair fell out when the memories first came back.

The times I had to fight the impulse to end my life by slashing my wrists. They programmed me to kill myself when the memories came back. The rituals were with knives. They don’t know about the decades of nightmares of rape, mutilated bodies, being attacked in my sleep. They don’t see the days where I can’t leave my bungalow because I’m ‘dealing with another layer’.

People don’t see the depth of the damage that was done.

They don’t know that most of my money has been spent on therapy. I have spent thousands and thousands of dollars while everyone else gets on with their lives. I stay on an island waiting for the next emotional pain tidal wave to smack me in the face. Satanic ritual abuse destroys everything and just when you think you have got to the end, there’s more to heal.

When I’m in a good space then I am ‘the healer’, ‘the mystic’.

I’m the one with the huge light that everyone notices when I walk into a room. The one with the ‘easy life’ living in paradise, the pretty one, the goddess, the empowered woman. That’s how far I’ve come.

You know what happens the more conscious you become?

The more you see the lies, corruption, the pain and suffering. You can’t ignore the curse of the sociopath. We live in a world controlled by them.

They used to burn the witches.

Maybe catching them in childhood as babies is even better. Turn them. Fuck them up. How many of us didn’t survive this? How many children are still going through this?

This is Patriarchy.

My father was a sociopath in a secret society. A Freemason – the Masonic lodge.

This is still happening. My step mother is still alive with her rotten soul. I’ve reported the ‘historic crime’. I’ve been to the police. It’s logged but unless others come forwards there’s nothing I can do. There’s no laws to help with recovered memories. No laws that protect the innocent.

All I can do is spread awareness and say it’s real.

It happened to me.

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