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At two or three years old, my dad took me on a hike through Yosemite, I don’t even remember what trail, but an old family friend might. We got lost for hours. I don’t even know why we got lost. But then one evening in my adult life, on 8/10/10, I uncovered a story that I channeled out of me. I wrote it out while a friend was over that night. I was in bed, alone, and a story poured out of me. Remember this was in the 80s as my birthday is 1981. Virtual reality was an emerging technology at the time.
I’m trying to figure out what happened to me. Why did they target my family? I’m not even sure if this is a real memory or not. But there it is, when I re-read it again in my journal after eight years of sobriety, it just triggered the actual memory. There are three military installations around Yosemite, the Marine Corps Warfare Training Center, the USA Navy Base, and the Naval Air Station Lemoore. We were stopped by people in the forest with guns, who I presume were military when I look at this memory as an adult. This story begins when the military finds us in the woods, the men holding their guns. I was two or three years old.
They put a VR helmet on my dad’s head, and they injected me with something that made my whole body burn; I watched something similar on the new TV show, The Orville. The screaming triggered my own memory. I’m not even sure if I have a real memory in my head, but I have to go to Mt. Shasta to find a hypnotherapist or somebody who understands how to access long-buried memories. The military scientists scanned me with something, knowing I’d be vulnerable to my type 1 diabetes later in life.
Then out of nowhere, a spaceship comes out with a ramp, my only reference point to this was Star Wars, which I had watched as a child. The men took off dad’s VR helmet and scrambled as the ship descended onto the ground. Human-looking aliens took us aboard and then lifted off again above the trees. They said they were Pleiadian.
They managed to de-brainwash my dad, somewhat, but he was taught through brainwashing how to be mean to his family as that would set up the right sort of environmental pressure so that psychokinesis and telekinesis was the only way I could blow off steam later in my life. Remember, as a child, I was nonverbal because of my pediatric schizophrenia until the age of four and the aliens already knew this. I met a man with all-blue eyes in the whites, whom I would see at Foothill College, later on, talking to somebody but he let me see the real him as he had a personal shield. I wanted to approach him but I held back. There may be a way to meet with him again someday.
There was a Native American woman and a white-haired woman. They put a VR helmet on me since the military was practically trying to kill me, which let them erase the damage done by the injection. I got my IQ back or enhanced or whatever. I suspect they were trying to replace what was stolen. This was a terrifying experience for a toddler, so they did their best to erase my memories of it. My mother and my family friends were also picked up; the aliens didn’t know what runs in my family or the fact that my mother would get really mean with me in my adult life. They merely told her to raise me on Star Trek, which would help me understand the real exopolitics behind what they were doing. Everybody had their memories erased. Since my next memory behind the screen was back at the picnic table in Yosemite, and everybody about to call the ranger since my dad and I got lost. This memory has been long buried. I rewrote the experience in my journal on my USB. I’m still trying to make heads or tails of it.