Recuerdo una ocasión, relativamente al principio de mi quehacer “profesional” en Servicios de Terapia Educativa Girasol.

Todas las mañanas me levantaba más temprano de lo necesario para hacer mi oración contemplativa. Tomaba café y luego hacía la oración contemplativa en la cama. Todos los días, sin falta, sentía dolor intestinal al hacer la oración contemplativa, pero eso no era todo: también sentía dolor intestinal en la escuela, al llegar, en concreto, después de tomarme el café que compraba en una cafetería cercana a la escuela. Como las molestias intestinales de la oración contemplativa me daban también tras tomar café, comencé a oensar que los hermanos progenitores envenenaban el café y que el café que compraba en la cafetería estaba también envenenado. No se me pasó ni por un minuto por la cabeza que fuera el aire acondicionado del salón lo que estuviera provocando las molestias intestinales en la escuela, con estudiantes dentro del salón teniendo flatulencias también, pero eso no me llamó la atenció, no sé por qué. Sencillamente no me cabía en la cabeza que fueran capaces de gasear a estudiantes por gasearme a mí. No sospeché nada, incluso cuando la maestra de español me dijo: “el aire acondicionado de mi salón se puede apagar, el tuyo no”. Ya daban por sentado que sospecharía de los aires acondicionados.

En fin, en ese día en concreto tuve tantas molestias intestinales a primera hora que tuvr que ir al baño a evacuar poo, cosa que no suelo hacer en las escuelas, por razones obvias: toma más tiempo, y es importante que los maestros estemos en nuestros salones. Lo recuerdo bien. Fue a primera hora, poco después del café mañanero. No pude resisitir tener que ir al baño a evacuar. Y evacué MUCHÍSIMO y súper apestoso además. No había spray de olor… pero supuse que a esa hora de la mañana no habría muchos estudiantes para ir al baño, aún no había pasado la merienda. No había baño para maestros: yo usaba el baño de los estudiantes, que era gender neutral, lo podían usar niños o niñas por igual.

En fin… justo al salir entró un niño de séptimo grado que luego sabría aue estaba siendo claramente explotado. Su T1 esa esposo del maestro homosexual de ciencias, y hacía preguntas solo para humillarme por mi falta de conocimiento. A ese estudianre me lo encontraba en el tren a las 6 am y una vez me preguntó quien era “esa”. Se refería a la Virgen de la Guadalupe. Tardé mucho tiempo en hacer las conecciones. Sencillamente no te imaginas que la magnitud del abuso psicológico e institucional que pasó en ese centro educativo sea posible.

En fin, como decía, el niño de séptimo grado comenzó a gritar que había una oeste horrenda, que quien había cagado ahí, y todos habían visto aue había sido yo. Otra maestra, que claramente participaba en el esquema de explotación infantil, intentó calmarlo (tenía T1 por “comportamiento desafiante”) diciéndole que la mierda no huele a flores. Yo no sabía donde meterme. Tenía que evacuar… y aún no lo sabía, pero esa evacuación había sido provocada adrede, forzada con toxic gassing. Yes, inside a room with students. The students were gassed too in order to gas the t

teacher. Yo, inocente, sencillamente me sentí mal por toda la pestilencia de mi evacuación, que recuerdo que fue extraordinariamente enorme.

All the people who read illegally my social media, including the authorities, knew what was happening, even if I was not conscious: I was being gassed and tortured, and that those students were being gassed and tortured to along me.

It doesn’t mattered. Authorities have their own agenda to fit. Their own narratives to show. Their own image to protect.

Nobody cared about a bunch of students, some of them unable to defend themselves and be conscious of what was going on, being gassed with toxic gasses that were intented to affect the teacher, but if that meant gassing the students too, it doesn’t mattered to anyone, nor the authorities, nor the school administrators.

Memories like this are in my head, quite clear. How students had been abused along the years, simply to abuse me. I was the target.

Students are still abused, but nobody cares. Everyone has their own agenda to follow.

Estamos en un mundo donde se juega con las necesidades, y lo hacen de ambas partes.

De parte de los hermanos progenitores, juegan con todas, con absolutamente todas, de forma cruel y despiadada. Necesidad de comida, de aire, de espacio personal, de seguridad, de afectividad (saben que amo a los perros y por tanto le causan enfermedades a los perros), de autorealización… No digo “de ego” porque siendo bien honesta, ego no tengo ya. Sencillamente soy víctima de tortura, se me fuerza a existir como víctima de tortura y eso no ha cambiado en más de 10 años. No solamente se me fuerza a exisitir como víctima de tortura: se me fuerza a ver como niños y mascotas son torturados sencillamente para torturarme a mí.

Más de diez años, diez largos años, en los que el Papa supo de lo que está pasando aquí, los presidentes supieron que está pasando aquí, la FBI lo supo, hasta una persona que se hace pasar por defensor de derechos humanos hackeo mi computadora, violando la ley tanto como lo hacen mis progenitores, y lo supo…

Y la crudísima realidad, puesta bien de frente, es que NINGUNO puso stop a la tortura. Ninguno dijo la verdad. Niguno me informó. Ninguno aplicó rule of law. Ninguno hizo lo que se debe hacer no solo éticamente, sino en conciencia.

No solamente NO pusieron stop a la torturay no me informaron a mí misma que estaba siendo torturada: se pusieron a jugar diverting games, para mover la atención de lo que estaba realmente pasando, haciendo desperdiciar recursos afectivos e intelectuales en smoke bombs, en información que era sencillamente provista como diverting or even plainly fake information. Se pusieron a jugar social media wars… que aún persisten.

De hecho, no puedo tener social needs neither. Todo social media que use, Pinterest, Instagram, Google/Gmail, Twitter, Facebook, You Tube… todos serán usados para manipular información y para proyectar que ciertos needs serán satisfechos.

Pongamos dos ejemplos.

Este es un anuncio de Twitter. Asume que necesitaré alivio para dolor pélvico por relaciones sexuales. Están jugando con el need de afectividad. Quieren proyectar inconscientemente: tendrás relaciones sexuales.

Esto de generar fake futures unconciously lo han jugado por años. Aún recuerdo cuando iba a la playa pensando que me iba a ir por los tweets que ponía LightWorkers. Llevan AÑOS proyecting false futures.

Ahora vayamos a You Tube, la segunda red social, de tres, que aun sigo usando. La primera es Twitter.

Esto fue lo que puso You Tube en el comentario de un video que ellos mismos pusieron, un video que sencillamente vi porque necesitaba distraerme, y ya no vuelvo a ver videos fuera de mi espectro de canciones porque ya se sabe que van a jugar con los comments (no tengo opción de usar un You Tube con los comments disabilitated by deffault)

Estan queriendo decir con ese comment: Eduardo Verastegui no te esta diciendo aue te ama, te lo muestra. Una vez más, estan forzando una imaginación de matrimonio que en mí ni está ya, ni me interesa ya, y hasta ya me da asco pensar. A la misma vez, juegan con el need de intimacy and needing a family. It is tremendously cruel to do that.

Saben cuantos años esa persona abuso de mi intimidad, right? Cuantos años se puso a leer mi computadora y devices, exactamente como lo hacen los hermanos progenitores, sabiendo que era torturada con toxic gassing, y no solo no dijo nada, lo disfrazó?

Stop it. No importa cuanto necesite a una familia, no volveré a cometer el error de volver a entrar a una relación simply because I am needy, knowing he is not only the wrong person: he is a violator of human rights, and a very proven one.

Lo siento, if actions speak louder than words, what he did was violating human rights and was also illegal. Not only that: the did NOT told the truth about the torture about I was enduring, and never showed that he “so loved” me with the supossed actions you proyect.

You Tube, sabiendo que no deseo ver ningún tipo de información, tanto de Sound of Freedom como de Eduardo Verástegui, puso este clip en mi You Tube app, aunque no paro de dar not interested a clips de Sound of Freedom o de Eduardo Verastegui. Esta vez es un poco más creepy todavía, porque lo hacen mientras estoy siendo torturada en el cuarto: me están provocando un dolor de cabeza tal que cualquier coraje puede suponer una vena rota en la cabeza, así que procuro mantenerme calmada (ninsiquiera puedo permitirme indignarme ante el social trafficking que estoy siendo forzada a tolerar) y sencillamente borrar el clip de mi You Tube, tal cual se ve a continuación:

Recuerden lo siguiente: todo lo que aparece en mi social media/adds es handpicked. No es un algoritmo: se pone ahí adrede. Además de eso, lo hacen justo cuando estoy siendo torturada físicamente en el cuarto por los hermanos progenitores y sus compinches, wherever the toxic gas control is. You Tube knew I have a headache, lo dije en un live hace momentos ago. So las dos cosas collide: la tortura física y el social trafficking, el forzarme a ver lo que no me interesa ni quiero ver, y a la misma ve ser torturada físicamente.

Tengo que descansar, no puedo escribir por la tortura física, me duelen los músculos del brazo.

[En algún momento quedé dormida por el toxic gassing. Me desperté una hora después].

You Tube no es el único que proyecta la temática de Eduardo Verstegui. Luego de haber escrito todo lo anterior Twitter claramente ignoró mi posición respecto a Eduardo Verastegui. Pusieron en Twitter un anuncio de ropa atlética masculina. Díganme, ¿para qué me interesa la ropa masculina, sin ningún hombre en mi vida? ¿Debo asumir inconscientemente que hay un hombre atlético en mi vida, de la misma forma que en su momento dije que me atraían los brazos atléticos y fuertes?

Aquí está el anuncio. De esta misma forma han jugado mind games por años, proyectando cuanta mentira se les hubiera ocurrido proyectar.

Este otro anuncio, visto en endi, juega con la necesidad de tener una familia, de disfrutar tiempo en familia, cuando la realidad es que llevo unos quince añs siendo isolated socially, besides tortured, y ninguna autoridad —eclesial o civil— dijo la verdad o impidió la tortura o el social isolation. Incluso colaboraron con él.

This other add is an add of hunger, while at thr same time you force me to stay in a hell house were I am not given money to buy food. This means: you project yourselves being anti-hunger, but in reality, you promote hunger, forcing me to stay where I will suffer hunger due lack of money to buy food: the progenitors denied me the money for buying food.

I am tired. I am tired of being abused, tortured, and also forced to see content I dont have to see and I dont agree to see. I know that what my progenitor do is inmensely wrong, but what the authorities have done, concealing the torture for years and years, including the pope, is inmensely more wrong than that.

When Auschwitz was discovered it was not concealed nor denied. An army was sent to put an end on it.

This is what you did not do here.

Now that I do have more time to think, because I only have Twitter to scroll… the reality slaps me in the face over and over again. Yes, in the dream we spoke about being sent in the middle of the deep violence, and deep darkness… that comes from both sides.

I would have loved to say: my goverment acted honorably, people in the authorities did what they must, they stoped the torture as they knew it, they provided me with the resources to recover my life…

I can’t say that. Those very same authorities that were suposed to defend me, now we know, were corrupt. They not only not stoped what was going on: they collaborated with it.

So, here we are. Unable to stay, unable to go. Everyone forcing their influence wars to control influences and minds… no one acting according to the rule of law, and according to simply… humanity.

Everyone got their agenda to comply, their dates to project, their adds/tweets/ to place. You got even movies to promote, placing Sound of Freedom tweets in my feed even when I muted those words in Twitter. No one cares about rights, about decency, abour honorability, about humbleness.

This is a giant Truman Show, everyone with a role to comply, everyone with a false reality to project to the world, para satisfacer sus propias necesidades de ego o de su agenda… without no one caring about truth, and God, and humankind.

Not even the Pope of a Church I can’t say I belong as it is on Earth… not even him says he truth, he even play with fake news deliberately. He, the Pope, doesn’t tell the truth deliberately. What kind of Church is this?

It is 6:54 in the morning. These words are to wake up my mind, to organize thoughts of the “awaken world” as anyone would do with a conversation when you wake up. I can’t write dialogues anymore, nor dreams, they are being exploited in the social trafficking that is being practiced, but not recogniced as even existant. If you search in Google, in You Tube, in Pinterest… the expression “social trafficking” does not exist. But it had being done against me during a lot of years, using social media to project lies deliberately and to place information that is deliberately false, like fake news designed to divert attention.

Meanwhile, he food I eat es meager and meager and meager… simply because I don’t have the right to have the need of food. I don’t have the right to have the need of air. I don’t have the right of personal space of privacy. My dogs don’t have the right of health, neither do I, none of us can go and get the health attention we need: we are going to get the health attentions you want us to give, not the one what we need.

Meanwhile, in the other side, they will keep playing with projecting a romantic relationship and a marriage. They will keep playing with adds of lavish homes and luxurious vacation. They will also keep playing with adds of things they know I, or the dogs, need to merely survive.

Nobody sits down in the situation room and simply does what an honorable person would do: stop the mind stalking, stop the social trafficking, tell the truth to me and to the nation, recognice the horrors that had been done, both by the goverment and by the terrorists that live in this house and those who collaborate with them, and apply rule of law accowdingly, not only upon the terrorists and torturers, but also upon those who denied the truth and concealed the truth along the years, including the Pope of a Church that, as I said, I cannot longer say I belong as it is on this Earth.

There is another memory that is quite clear right now in my mind. It happenednin Saint Thomas Aquinas Catholic School, right now closed. I was cleaning the classroom to leave, because I renounced the job as soon I had enough evidence in my Facebook to prosecute the responsable of the institutional negligence and harrassmen. There was a single step still needed to be done: clean the walls. If I cleaned the walls, I would be breaking the student’s dream, because as they were forcing me to do things, the drawings of their dreams must be broken to leave the classroom clean on time. I simply went to the director and said that due medical reasons I couldn’t do that part of the job. I hoped that meant I would be allowed to go home. Nope. She forced me to stay in the classroom as someone else came and broke the student’s dream on the wall. That was a very gruesome thing to witness: the own school breaking their own students’ dreams, one by one. I even made a live showing it. As all these things happened… no one stood for truth. No one stopped the torture. I needed to resign and keep going to school over school, tortured and gassed over and over again.

I am not speaking anything about my dreams, but I will say something about last night dream to give context to this text.

Mikhael looked at me and asked a very deep question. He asked me if, after all I have seen and endured in the Catholic Church, I could remain Catholic. I breathed deeply and cried: no, I can’t. You know it. I can’t remain Catholic after this. I don’t know what the future holds for me, but I can’t remain Catholic. The Gospel is not being lived. They tortured people, including kids, in God’s name, and ecclesial authorities remained silent. Truth is not being told. Not even… by the Pope. You know it. I can’t remain Catholic, but I don’t know what I am neither. And you keep appearing to me… why?

Mikhael smiled me tenderly: because it would be horrible to remain the same Catholic after this. It would be gruesome to remain the same Church after this. You gave the correct answer, do not fear: you can’t remain Catholic… because the Church can’t remain Catholic in the same sense after these attrocities and abuses. You are right: you can’t remain Catholic and God doesn’t expect you to remain Catholic… in the same way than before. Truth must be known. The wolves won’t win. The good shepperds will.

Without giving more details than necessary, let’s say that the new wine overflows, always overflows, and the cross keeps being elevated as this revolution of new albor transforms everything into radiation of new life, the same way the alliance of new albor is being elevated too… and that is not a show, its a radiation of true new light, true newness of the Spirit.

I am feeling drooling as I write that. Physical torture is still going on as write this, the one that you have denied during more than 15 years.

There is no truth room in the White House, I guess. Not in the Vatican. Or may be truth is the elephant in the room, the ignored but evident elephant in the room.

But, as Moulin Rougue says: the show must go on. Your show, not mine. That is all you care about, both ecclesial and civil authorities. Your image, your appearances, your projections, your audiences, your fake news, your social media control, what fits your fixated agenda.

So, let the show go on as if nothing happens, as you have done during years and years while children and pets were abused and gassed cold bloodely, along with me. Did I mention you have pretended and still pretend to be human rights defenders? Ahhh, yes, I did. I can’t stop your social trafficking neither, as I am unable to have recogniced rights by any side. But this is your show, authorities, not mine, although you exploit my life so your show can keep going on.

Do you realize the thousands of times you had to tell the truth, to act according to rule of law allong all these years, more than 15 years? Do you realize how much torture I had to endure, and still endure, simply because you chose to remain silent? I just fall asleep while writing due toxic gassing. The torture is still going on.

This an amazing find in You Tube. I am scrolling You Tube because to keep me awake after the somnolence that caused the toxic gassing, I need intellectual activity. I found that video of “reframing negative thoughts” and buffed. I quitted it inmediately.

That, exactly that, is what you had been doing the last fifteen years: “reframing torture”, “reframing toxic reality”, “reframing gruesome violations of human rights” with toxic positivism, with diversions of attention, with false projections… never assuming responsability as authorities, never being accountable of with you did not do and you were ought to do, never telling the truth as it happened, never stopping cruelty and hate, never informing everyone of what is going on, of how even children are being tortured…

Do you know the direction of your “reframing”, authorities? Hell, the place of no truth nor love. Truth must be told as it is, no matter how dark it is, because once you onow truth you can choose the light and radiate the love you are called to radiate. It is also a matter of basic decency and human rights. People desserve a social life based in the truth, not in a giantic reality show.

Para colmo de males, en lugar de asumir responsabilidad por sus actos y dejar de practicar social trafficking y de manipular el contenido del social media, te ponen “stop being emotionally triggered”, haciéndome a mí responsable de lo que en primer lugar es responsabilidad de las autoridades y del social media: not respecting my boundaries.

I have the legit right of not being used for social traffkicing. I have the legit right of being told the truth and people know about the truth of what is happening here and the abuse and torture I have endured. And yes, I have the right to be angry at moments for the authorities that do not act according to the rule of law and basic decency. Don’t tell me I decide how I feel when you are the ones who decides if I have rights or not. In this moment, I don’t have them. Feeling is a human characteristic, but you can’t have the luxury of human feelings when, in the first place, your human rights are not recogniced, and not only that: the authorities, besides not recognicing your rights, turn your life into a social reality show.

Another very common move in You Tube is putting videos that alude to a “depression”. How they do it, it can vary. This is one example

I have told you many times: I am not depressed. I am being abused. I am being socially trafficked. I am forced to exist s a victim of torture, never being able to be free. I am slaved to two people who will to whatever it is at their hands to destroy me psychologically and to cause me disabilitating harm. That is not depression. That is being a prisoner. But you keep projecting depresion and all kind of mental health diagnosis… except the very one I have: Post Narcissistic Abuse Stress Disorder… but that perspective is not according to your show, right? My own perspective has no value in how my own story is seen. Its conpletely your show, instead of being, simply, my faith journey and how I have survived abuse. According to the authorities, I am forced to be the victim, always the victim, there is no exit from the abuse.

Darte cuenta de como has sido explotada y abusada, en todo el sentido de la palabra, a lo largo de los años, con todo el aval de las autoridades perrinentes aue debieron haber detenido el abuso no es fácil. Han sido años de explotación económica donde se ha usado el dinero como herramienta de control, incluso negándoseme dinero para comida. Han sido años de explotación médica y legal, recibiendo tratamientos psiquiátricos a la fuerza una y otra vez sencillamente porque los doctores hacían lo que mis progenitores querían, siendo despojada absolutamente de toda identidad personal y jurídica, y siéndoseme negados servicios médicos que sí necesitaba. Han sido años de explotación sexual, en el sentido de que toda mi vida sexual era observada y explotada, sin mi consentimiento. Han sido años de explotación profesional, en los que se han explotado mis funciones profesionales para explotarme psicológicamente y para torturarme, tanto a mí como a los niños a los que intentaba enseñar in such gruesome circumstances. Han sido años de explotación biológica de tu cuerpo, siendo torturada una y otra vez, con todo el conocimiento de las autoridades, que sabiéndolo igual lo permitieron. Han sido años de explotación social, tanto por parte de mis progenitores, parientes y colaboradores, como por parte de las autoridades que se pusieron a jugar mind games con el contenido de mi vida social, especialmente en social media, en lugar de hacer lo que toda autoridad legítima haría: arrestar, aplicar estado de justicia y de derecho y decir la verdad como corresponde ser dicha. No, no es fácil perdonar el hecho de que has sido esclava social toda tu vida… y además permitido por las autoridades que debieron defenderte. No se trata solo de personar el hecho de que se han cometido atrocidades con mi persona y a mi alrededor, con niños que fueron explotados para explotarme a mí: es que ambas partes volvieron la tragedia en un reality show en el peor sentido del término, jugando con la realidad como si fuera un espectáculo social… sin darse cuenta que a esa que dejaban sufriendo, a esa a la que le mataron el perro, a esa a la que le causaban dolor, torturas, isolation e injuries adrede… era un ser humano con identidad propia y derechos humanos que en ningún momento se respetaron. De hecho, esos derechos humanos se violaron sistemáticamente. Quiero decir: se creo todo un sistema de dehumanización, que incluía colaboración de autoridades… exactamente como pasaba en Auschwitz. Nadie se escandalizó, Nadie dijo “basta”. Nadie dijo la verdad mientras se torturaban a niños, ni nadie reconoció lo que estaba sucediendo mientras mataban a mi perro. No. Yo nunca tuve el suficiente valor como persona como para valer más que sus agendas y hacer que todo el horror se detuviera en el momento en que estaba pasando, no cuando le diera la gana a ustedes de montar otro espectáculo más para hacer damage control. Literalmente, es esclavitud social. Es aborto social. Es ver como todo el valor de tu vida social y de tu persona depende de otros, no de ti misma, de tu inherente dignidad como ser humano.

Entonces en You Tube aparecen videos como este: “focus on God, not in your problems”.

Eso es lo que hacen las autoridades para “reframing” el hecho de que se han permitido atrocidades que fueron ilegales en todo el sentido: en lugar de asumir responsabilidades y detener la tortura, intentan “desviar la atención” a… whatever. En estos momentos lo hicieron a Dios, proyectando que debo cambiar mi ”focus” a Dios. Guess what? En el sueño de anoche Dios mismos me dijo que fuera BIEN clara denunciando los crímenes que se han cometido, tanto por los torturadores, tanto por las autoridades civiles, y tanto por las autoridades eclesiásticas. El tiro de cambiar el “focus” a Dios se les fue por la culata, porque Dios mismo es el aue está diciendo: tú nunca debiste haber sido forzada a estar aquí. Permitir esto, y especialmente permitirlo en Mi nombre, es un horror del que Yo no soy parte”. Esa es la estrategia más común del social media: desviar la atención del horror de lo que ha pasado a cualquier tipo de “focus”: projectar vida familiar, projectar turismo a lugares exóticos, projectar casas espectaculares y realtors dispuestos a ayudar a comprarlas, projectar productos de perros, projectar una vida perfectamente feliz, projectar cualquer tipo de positivismo tóxico, proyectar historias de santos… Projectan absolutamente de todo para desviar tu atención del hecho de que estás siendo torturada, de que estás siendo forzada a permanecer donde estás siendo torturada a sangre fría, sin siquiera suficiente comida, con un perro que necesita atención veterinaria urgente porque también fue torturado…

No se puede pretender controlar la realidad con falsas projeciones. La verdad es. La verdad no necesita falsas projecciones, la verdad es, se muestra tal cual es como realidad.

¿Quieren ver la realidad en estos momentos? Don’t focus in the God you fabricate. Focus in the God that is telling: this is awfully wrong. What you are doing allowing this for 15 years, for a whole life, is afwully wrong.

Mientras tanto, aquí está Minnie. She was tortured. La última vez que fue al veterinario fue hace tres semanas atrás. Estaba perfectamente bien. Ahora tiene una horrenda infección de piel que no es la primera vez que tiene, es de hecho al menos la cuarta vez en el mismo año. Claramente los progenitores se la provocan, sea con el toxic gassing, o sea infectándola directamente (sí, así de buenos son con el bioterrorismo).

Look at her tummy very carefully, and ask yourselves in what kind of “God” are you focusing: in one who wants you to allow these attrocities, or in one who simply thinks “positively” and says “focus in Me” blindly, without taking in count the injustice that is going on.

What Minnie has in her chest is a wound of at least three inches wide, four inches long. That, besides the infection in her tummy, and a mass in one of her elbows. I tried to wash her, because she has a very foul oddor. She didn’t allowed me due pain. Yes, she is clearly in pain right now. Yesterday, she was not. Whatever she has, is progressing. I won’t be given money to take her to the vet. They themselves caused this, but the progenitors are giving me no money right now, not even for basic things or for things that they themselves cause.

That is what you want me to ignore when you project “focus in God”, people? You have done the same “social exploitation trick” during years and years, shifting the attention to “God” instead of focusing in the cruelty and the hate that have and must be stopped.

No more, authorities, no more. Realtity is now what you construct: it what unfolds departing from truth. You can’t pretend to build a whole social reality founded in false projections. And yes, God is Love that makes all things anew, but for sharing that truth you must tell the whole truth, telling also about the atrocities and the injustice that had been allowed during years and that can be forgiven thanks to His grace, not due nothing else. I am absolutely sure of this: I can’t forgive this on my own, not this, nor the many other attrocities that have happened along the years.

There was one forced hospitalization that was quite different of all others. It was in Pavia Hospital in Santurce, one of the several I had there. In that hospitalization I chose to remain silent because I was not being heard. The social worked took me apart and told me I must talk. I said the truth: I was being abused by my progenitors, and if I wasn’t going to be listened, I won’t talk. For what? What the hospital did was horrendous: they filled the whole hospitalization report, which they didn’t wanted me to see and tried to not give me, with all the things my progenitors said. What I told about their abuse appeared nowhere in the report to the judge. Anything of what I said about the abuse I was subject to didn’t appeared in the report, at all. I was given medications by force even with me not speaking, so they couldn’t have evidence of psychosis. It didn’t mattered: they injected me the highest dose possible, without me speaking a word, and without being given the choice of not being injected. I rememebr that instance quite well. The doctor didn’t told me in the doctor visit that I was going to be injected. The nurse simply came to my room and told me that I had an injection. That besides the haldol I already took by mouth. The overmedication in all these hospitalizacions was brutal. I remember not being allowed to go to the room (and the bed) to sleep due the secondary effects of all these cocktails, so I had to sleep in the floor because I couldn’t avoid the somnolence caused by the meds they gave me. The room was locked by the nurses, I couldn’t go in, and they refuse to open it because I had to be outside, but I was too sleepy to be outside. That happened in the Pavia Hospital too, in door of the room that makes a corner in the right side of the psychiatrical wing, that is shared with men and women. I wrapped me in my prayer blanket and simply slept in the floor. It was a very dehumanizing moment. I did mentioned I was overmedicated. They didn’t care. Keeping functionality had never been one of the priorities in forced hospitalizations.

The first time they injected me haldol, a very high dose of haldol, besides what I was given in pills, my neck literally twisted to a side and my period blood changed color. That was in the Federico Trilla, the hospital of the University of Puerto Rico School of Medicine Department of Psychiatry. Last time I was there I was injected haldol simply because I told I was being abused by my progenitors. They wrote “religious delusions” in my hospitalization report even if did not mentioned God in my conversations with doctors not even a single time: once again, in the hospitalization report was writen what the progenitors told, not what I told. Once again, they did not wrote what I told about their abuse… but this hospital was different, because they were responsible of me receiving three years of “psychosis rehabilitation program” in which I was coerced to believe what my progrenitors said. Yes, you read right: there were psychiatrists coercing me to believe the reality that my progenitors were projecting me, and the doctor doing this was the director of residents of Psychiatry, it was not a nobody. Well, in that last hospitalization the chief psychiatrist was one of the doctors who treated me in that “psychosis rehabilitation program”. I recognized him and I had no idea of why he still had a medical licence after what he did with me, but I did dare to speak with him directly, and told him that psychiatry has social factors, psychiatrycal conditions can be caused by social factors only… and he totally diminish the social factors, telling me that if I had what I have (psychosis, schizophrenia, bipolar disorder… and whatever else I had been diagnosed, because they keep adding in every forced hospitalization) biological factors must be involved, what I had was biological, not social AT ALL… That was a chief of psychiatry talking, denying at all the importance of social factors in psychiatry, denying that all I had was social induced… Once again, my voice was diminished, but this time was done by a chief phychiatrist of the Department of Psychiatry of the State School of Medicine. Once again, he was not precisely a nobody, but still I dared to speak.

That was not the only time at all my voice was diminished by a psychiatrist. Now I will talk about the first forced hospitalization in the Capestrano Hospital. It was a horrible hospitalization. There was even toxic gassing causing diverse effects. The toxic gassig was in the room. Once I went out of the room, all the symptoms disapeared, including racing heart. The curious thing is that they waited me being injected by haldol to start to cause the gassing effects, mimicking it with haldol effects (something my progenitors also wanted to make, and that is why I was so oppossed to forced injections) but the pattern repeated: once you changed spaces, the symptoms were gone. That was also the hospitalization in which I had marks of blood being taken, but I was not taken blood in that place when I arrived. I had a bruise in my hand caused clearly by blood taking, but when I arrived the blood was taken from the elbow, I had the band aid. The hand wound didnt had band aid, and I wasn’t even conscious when it was taken. I asked the hospital staff to take pictures of the bruise of the hand as an injury caused in the hospital without explanation. They totally refused to keep evidence of the huge bruise: “we don’t make that here”. But the voice diminishing came at the exit of the forced hospitalization: the psychiatrist forced me to correct me “progrenitors” to “parents” and also, put a medicine in the hospitalization forms that I never took during the hospitalization, an antidepresive. I refused to take it and insisted that he didn’t gave me it in the hospitalization. Nobody believe me. Once again, my voice was diminished.

Now let’s talk about how my voice was diminised in the first forced hospitalization, in Panamerican Hospital. They were the first ones who diagnosed me with “schizophrenia” due believing the food was poisoned and telling my progenitors didnt understand me (as I saw it at that moment, the abuse was lifelong, I did not knew about the gassing torture yet, but I did mentioned the false roosters game). Everything was staged, they even had someone to lend me a “dog diary” book, because I wrote a diary during the hospitalization. I told them the truth, and they simply believed my progenitors. Whatever I said, it didn’t mattered. I told them repeatedly: I am overmedicated, I don’t feel well. They told me: it was normal that the medication lowers the blood preassure… Well, in one of the exits to recreation, I couldn’t keep standing and I collapsed in the middle of the whole recreative area, that was like a huge zone with recreation stuff, like a basketball court under roof. I remained there, without being able to stand, half unconscious, for several minutes. Nobody came to help me. When I reported the incident, they said: its normal, your blood presure can fall. I repeated: I am overmedicated, I was in the floor several minutes. Once again, I was ignored. Once again, my voice was diminished. I had more episodes of not being able to stand, and they keep ignoring my voice and my body.

Now… let’s talk about APS. As soon I realized the doctors of University of Puerto Rico RCM were collaborating with my progenitors, I requested to the medical plan to change mental health provider to APS, the mental health provider to the poorest in Puerto Rico. They have an office in Bayamón to which I was assigned. As a matter of fact, my progenitors tried as long as they could to me remain connected to RCM, but I refused. I thought that I would be heard in APS. I was assigned a psychologist and a psychiatrist… but I was unheard too. When I talked to the psychologist about the control I was subject from my progenitors, including not giving me money for food, she said: “law is law”, meaning I must obey the forced hospitalization law even if my progenitors were being abusive. The psychiatrist talked with my five minutes, never decreasing the amount of medication, and overmedicating me too, giving me both injected and pill haldol. There was one time he asked me why I wasn’t going outside the house, and I told him I didn’t had the money to do so, my progenitors gave me no money to went out. He didn’t care about my answer. He put me anti-anxiety medication. Once again, my voice was diminished. No matter which mental health provider I chose, they will simply refuse to hear me and refuse to acknowledge the abuse and torture I was being victim of. This APS psychiatrist even did gaslighting, telling me in one of the last visits that he told me I didn’t needed haldol pills of I was injected. No, you never told me that. He tried to me doubt about the version of reality due his gaslighting.

Finally, let’s talk about INSPIRA, the mental health provider I currently have. Yes, I changed mental health provider again in an effort of npavoiding RCM and APS. I told them: I need a psychologist to proove the abuse of my progenitors. They stopped psychologist appointements basically after the first one. But there was one that was very gruesome. A psychologist called me… with a scale to complete. I told them very clearly: I dond’t need a scale, I need a psychologist to talk about the abuse I am being subject to. The psychologist insisted in doing the scale, and that was absolutely so dehumanizing for me. I am being abused and what you offer me is a scale? I told the truth: the spychological abuse and torture of my progenitors was so horrible they make me feel I should suicide myself to escape it, because no matter what I do, I can’t escape their abuse. I don’t want to kill myself, and I won’t do it, but they make feel that the only way to escape their abuse is killing myself. After saying that to the psychologist, I was hospitalized by force again. I told about the abuse to the psychiatrist in the hospital, and he hospitalized me, but not due abuse, but due psychosis. I saw the papers where the reason of hospitalization was stated as “psychosis”, not abuse. Once again, I was considered mentally ill for telling the truth about my progenitor’s abuse. During the whole hospitalization I received no suicidal thoughts treatment, nor I was heard. I dealt with that by my own. Once again, everything was extremely dehumanizing (I has being denied the help I needed to keep my abusers out of my life and to overcome the psychological scars of their abuse), my voice was diminished and truth was nowhere to be found. The hospital didn’t mentioned my abuse allegations in the hospitalization reports neither. If they don’t mention the abuse allegations, I can’t claim anything upon the judge that oversees the case.

So, as you can see, there had been many instances along these years in which I had been tried to being forced to keep my mouth shut in this gigantic Truman show. Sometimes it was not exactly the psychiatrist or the medical authorities who tried to keep my mouth shut and be submisive with the abuse of my progenitors. Sometimes it was a judge, making comments about how forcing me to take my meds was like “brushing my teeth daily” (I haven’t brush my teeth daily due lack of safe water or simply due lack of toothpaste). Other times, it was the police, like the police that came to my bedroom (yes, a male police officer came into my bedroom) in the first forced hospitalization, telling me that I had no more than five minutes to pack because “he had other people to help” (he was mimicking the formative tasks of the theology of light/integractive personal formation model: helping to be, helping to do, helping to grow, helping to radiate… there was a time were they played a lot around me with the word “help”). Other times was the ambulance personel, not answering my questions, or simply not acknowledging what I was telling. By the way, I forgot to mention: the progenitors hacked ALL my devices in ALL my forced hospitalizations, so I lost internet connection as soon I got into the ambulance. The stopped me from expressing in social medial my feeelins and my thought about what was happening. I think that only the last hospitalization I didn’t had connection/charging problems, but I was not allowed to use the iPad while waiting to be hospitalized by force. In the hospitalization prior to that one I has in a place where I couldn’t charge the iPad. In all the others forced hospitalizations, and we are talking of about seven forced hospitalization, my progenitors tried to shut my voice also in social media, not allowing me to have internet from the moment I was got into the ambulance, and shortly after the hospitalization too, the devices took their time after the hospitalization to regain internet. I couldn’t make calls too, I once tried to call FBI while I was on the ambulance and the call didn’t go through neither. My devices had been that controlled all the time: they choose when and how allow me to use them, and when they do allow me to use them, they sabotage my creative work or my connection/communications. I commented this device hacking to the doctors and they simply took it as psychosis. Once again, my voice was diminished, twice: by doctors, and by progenitors, who hacked the devices to avoid me express myself during the process of being hospitalized by force.

There was one hospitalization that, as soon I could get the phone working and I had the space to talk, the very same day I was discharged from the hospital, I called the FBI in United States. Why? Because I had tried to denounce the situation to FBI San Juan four times, in diverse ways, to no avail. Well, I filled myself with courage and called to an FBI phone number that was for cases in which the life was at risk. I even neded an interpreter. I explained my situation: my parents are gassing the room with carbon monoxide, and other things I don’t know, they are narciss… wait, I think I didn’t reached the point to explain they are narcissistic. FBI agent simply said they didn’t deal with this kind of cases and hung up. That was my last time trying to get help from the federal authorities. I was simply unheard. Once again, my voice was diminished, even unto death. No one, nor authorities of law and order nor doctors in emergency rooms of forced hospitalizations, listened when I talked about the toxic gasses being used in my rooms, even if I gave especific details and offered to show evidence, especifically mentioning that “it smelled garlic sometimes, it also smelled rotten sometimes, the test for carbon monoxide was positive and the progenitors broke the CO2 detector machine putting a sticker that said «well done»”. The FBI were not the only law and order authority who ignored my plea of help. When I flew coerced to Miami, and I was clearly abused and exploited in my sister’s apartment also, I tried to seek help with Miami Police Department, believing they would help me. I was wrong. They didn’t believed me. What they said was: take your medicines. Once again, my voice was dimished. Because I did not “collaborate” with my progenitor and my doctor sister abuse, I was flown by force to Puerto Rico be hospitalized by force, again.

I did inform in other instances to the FBI the abuse of children around me… but the FBI, who did nothing, was not the only ones who I seeked help with that. As many people may know, Puerto Rico has what the Catholic Church call an “Apostolic Delegation”, because we are not a country of our own, so we don’t have a nuncio. Well, the highest ecclesial authority in Puerto Rican Catholic Church is the apostolic delegate, who depends directly to the Nunciature of Santo Domingo, to which Puerto Rico depends. Well, I managed to have an appointment with the apostolic delegate after what happened in both the first Catholic school where children were abused (there were two catholic schools in which children were exploited) and also while leftist ideological imposition was rampant at the school of theology I was studying at, were several seminarists of the island studied too. It was, once again, worthless. Nothing was done with the children abuse and with the school of theology. Once again, my voice was diminished. I never was able to reach the Nunciature of Santo Domingo, I didn’t had the money to fly over there, but I did informed of what was going on in the school of theology to the next nearest bishop of the territory were the abuses of the school of theology where happening: the bishop of Arecibo. The school of theology of the Bayamón Central University is in territory of the Archbishop of San Juan, and when I tried to talk with the secretary of the Archbishop, who was one of my professors at the facultyof theology, the diminished my voice, once again. My postures were not according his ideology. He was in the school of theology, he knew what happened, and did nothing. He ignored my voice, both as Catholic, and as theology student.

Yes, many people have tried to shut my voice, many times. As all these things happened along the years, you, authorities, knew all, but chose that your agenda has more value than the dignity of a citizen and than stoping the attrocities that were happening. You kept going with your giagantic Truman show, no matter what, not even if children were being abused, not even if I died due torture (whatever it was due induced suicide or induced cancer due toxic gassing), not even if any of the dogs died, as it happened. You knew, authorities, I couldn’t defend myself in any way, nor legally, nor domestically, because I couldn’t move with any relative, they had always been part of the abuse too. The progenitors knew they had full control of my existence, thanks to your inaction and even collaboration in some instances, like when the doctors collaborated with them. They wanted to own not only my life and my body, like if I were a slave to own, but my voice, they wanted to destroy my voice. As a matter of fact, all the objective of my progenitors with the forced hospitalizations they caused was simply to leave my voice unheard or ignored due being crazy: who would trust or hear the truth of a schizophrenic mentally ill person? That was their main objective: diminish my reputation with their false projections, diminish my identity as person using the law to hospitalize me by force and loose my juridical personhood, diminish my voice with several psychiatrical false diagnosis that make questionable the truth of what I say.

I do forgive you all… but I won’t keept my mouth shut, even if I you force me to remain tortured and socially slaved. I can’t. I have a Christian duty of give testimony of light, of how God is Love that can makes all things anew, of how Jesus Charity can truly make hearts anew… but you can’t give testimony of light if you your tell the truth, the whole truth, including the attrocities that are being transformed into radiation of new life that grows in communion. Yes, the atroccities commited by my both progenitors and the authorities have been many, and they must be told, so we can transform them into a radiation of new life that help us to become the living work of Love we are called to be, the nation of love we are called to be, the state of new albor we are called to be. We are not called to be a social reality show: we are called to be a new albor.

I forgive you, but this is your show, not mine. While you have been playing mind games and power games, I had been focused in adoring God and in developing the theology of light and the integractive personal formation model. I just remembered when I went to the Kennedy Space Center to study the nature of stars. I flown to Florida due being coerced to participate in an activity of college classmates, an activity that was out of my budget and I had to ask money to my ex boyfriend, that expected sex in change… but I also went to the Kennedy Space Center and did my research for the theology of light. It had always had been that way: you have your agenda, I have my own agenda according to God’s will. As the postcard that I got from the Kennedy Space Center said: Failure is not an option. I put that postcard in the YouCat page that talks abour marriage. My progenitors moved it to the page that talked about homosexuality. I moved it back to its place… and then it got lost, but the message still remains: Failure is not an option. Truth must be known.

Of course, don’t count with me to hide the attrocities of any side… but enjoy your show if you can, folks!

Remember something. As the song that I was hearing while being forced to take the flight from Miami to Puerto Rico says: you may silence me, you may silence me, you may silence me, but the cross forever speaks.

Remember that, everyone, especially my progenitors and relatives: the cross forever speaks.

If we want to be truly the land of the free, there can be no freedom without truth. Truth is the foundation of a society where everyone can be who they are, who they are called to be and who they intend to be. Without truth, there is no social foundation for communion and growth, and without growing together in communion, we can’t soar to new heights with His Love. Lack of truth is a root for corruption and undergrowth, in a land that is meant to be fruitful in His Love, bearing the fruits of giving light to the Word with more and more humbleness and docility to the Holy Spirit, cultivating this land of the free with more and more unity to His Heart. If we are not free our hearts can’t become the land of the Living Word, incarnating more and more the Word as we become a whole plantation of new life that grows in communion, a whole land of new albor whose light is for everyone to see and embrace. If we don’t cultivate truth, we will become lost in undergrowth, unable to bear fruits of joy, plenitude and communion that creates new life in Love, for Love and with Love, as out Heavenly Mother and the whole Holy Family of New Albor teaches us as incarnated Truth that helps us grow more and more and more, until becoming together the best person we can be. There is no space por undergrowth in a heart fully open to the Truth of the Living Word, as our Holy Mother was when she said “fiat”.

Truth will be known. Justice of Heaven will be served, not only to me, but also to the hundreds of children and vulnerable adults you abused along the years.

Yes, the cross forever speaks.

PD: Mi progenitora dejó esto en el cuarto justo después de publicar este post, en claro mimicking a la palabra “truth”. El brand slogan de este producto es “believe in truth”.