My Life — Hive

After much deliberation and arguing with myself about telling this story I decided it needs to be told. This is a big part of the reason why I think training the mind and using our true spiritual free will is so important for all of humanity. This will ruffle some feathers, make people pissed, make some attack (like they don't already). Some will think this is crazy, but this is a very real event in my life. I can't rewrite the past and I can't keep quiet just because it makes people uncomfortable.

I have already introduced myself somewhat on Steemit an this post is a deeper introduction to who I am because it could help others who have gone through the same experience and possibly help me figure some things out too.
In 1984 I took the ASVAB test at my local military recruitment office and scored a 99 (which means I did better than 99% of the people who take the test) which made all the recruiters try to enlist me. I ended up going with the US Army. I was not yet 18. In December of '84 the Army van came to pick me up and took me on the journey to MEPS.
So far everything is average and normal and I was getting the same experience as everyone else who enlists. I took the oath (which I still keep no matter what, an oath is an oath and I love my country), I got my physical and all my government issue "stuff". All normal so far.

I must admit that I was somewhat of a problem child for my drills. I did what was expected but I guess I had an attitude. I was not a fan of authoritative figures when they were not logical and just wanted to turn me into a robot. Lets just say I was doing upwards of 600 push ups a day as "punishment" for speaking out of turn or whatever BS made them feel I needed some extra "training".

Things began to get weird when the time came for us to go through the gas chamber. We were made aware that it was our constitutional right not to be subjected to that part of training. I chose to exercise my constitutional right as I saw soldiers coming out with burned skin and vomiting. I figured if I was ever in a real threat, surely I would be able to get my mask on quickly and efficiently. That pissed them off and I was ordered to do push ups for the entire time my platoon went through the gas chamber. That was fine with me. At least I wasn't burned or puking my guts out like the other girls. That was also when my drills amped up the "punishments" for every little thing. Even the things other gals were doing and didn't get in trouble for.

Soon after it was time for bivouac training. We would have four days in the field. I was looking forward to being alone in a tent because my buddy had been sent home on a medical discharge and living with a bunch of women is a pain in the ass. So much bitchiness and drama all the time. I was seriously ready for some alone time, but I honestly really enjoyed this part of training. Living outside, training with weapons, maneuvers, fire guard duty with an actual fire... all fun. On the third day of bivouac training we were firing weapons from foxholes (also loads of fun) and it was my turn. At some point I stopped firing because a vision overtook me (if you read my introductory post, you will remember that I have psychic abilities). I saw that we were to be gassed in the camp that night. I guess I was in a daze because I came to with my Company Commander yelling at me, "fire your weapon, soldier! what the hell is wrong with you , private! Fire!" I shook off the vision and resumed the task at hand. I was really good with the M-16. I loved everything about it. The sound. the smell of the discharge, how accurately I could hit the targets. Fun... just fun. Although I couldn't have ever shot a real live target. Bottles and cans are more my speed.

When we returned to camp after a long day of war games I noticed that all the dirt I had piled around the bottom of my pup tent to keep the cold wind out was removed. So right then I knew that my vision was true and we would definitely be getting a surprise gassing that night. They obviously wanted to make sure I would be getting the gas as I was the only one with enough brains to pile dirt around my tent instead of freezing at night. Why else take my insulation away when they had left it there for two days already? When it was time for lights out I crawled into my mummy bag with my weapon and my boots (so sneaky drills couldn't steal them and punish me some more for being stupid) and put on my gas mask and waited..... and waited... and waited... and fell asleep in it. I awoke to the sounds of screaming girls and I could hear the girls in the tent next to mine vomiting and choking. I was still half asleep in that half dream state half awake. Suddenly a bright light filled my tent and I sat up like a vampire out of his coffin. It was the company commander shining a very strong flashlight in my face. Same guy that yelled at me when I was in the foxhole. I could not see him but I recognized his voice.
"Private! you alright? Why are you wearing your mask?" as he lowered the flashlight a little so I could see his face... covered with a mask.
"Why are you wearing a mask? Did you gas us?"
"Get out of the tent now, private!"

So I got out. wearing my very fabulous men's long underwear complete with a fly I didn't need and dog tags and mask, of course.
He proceeded to question me as to why I had my mask on. I told him I fell asleep in it because I had a feeling we were going to be gassed and I was not into being burned and choked and puking out of a restful sleep. I could tell he was really pissed off. Especially since I had not gone through the gas chamber in the first place. So more questions came and orders to answer. So finally I told him about my vision because he thought I had stolen the play book and saw their plans for that day. I had to defend myself against being called a thief. And at the risk of sounding crazy I told him I had had a vision that was going to happen when I was in the foxhole during target practice. He remembered yelling at me about that. My drills were just quiet and listening to everything. The other girls were nursing themselves and trying to get a grip. My neck was burning since that part of me was not protected from the gas. We never went back to bed as they chose 3 am as a good time to gas us and by now the sun was beginning to cast a faint light in the woods and it was almost time for chow. They let me go get ready for the day. The last day of bivouac before returning to the barracks I caught each of my drills looking at me like I was some kind of freak show performer. Just staring as if they could see something. Of course they couldn't but I could sense they were mad and kind of confused.

The next Monday morning at 04:30 my drill sergeant called me into the office. I was told I was to have chow with the Battalion Commander that morning. I thought I was going to catch hell for what happened during bivouac but the commanders table certainly would be a weird place for a dressing down. That was not the case. when I arrived to his table there were 5 other trainee soldiers sitting with him and other big wigs. It seemed tame enough. He asked each of us personal questions about our lives, families etc. When it became my turn I asked him instead... "are you married? do you have kids? have you always been a military man? " ... He answered the questions surprisingly. We were also given powdered jelly filled donuts and good coffee was available which was very different from the birdseed health food and weak dirty water passing off as coffee we were subjected to on a daily basis. I should have known right then. But I didn't. We were told we were there because we had the highest IQs of all the soldiers in our battalion. I felt like they were trying to stroke some egos or make us feel special somehow. I was the only female at the table. Nothing happened that I would consider strange. Not yet anyway.

After chow my company was put on pine cone duty O_O wha??? That meant we had to pick pine cones up from the grounds and make it look ship shape because some big wig was coming to the base. That is the last thing I remember. The next thing I know is waking up in a hospital bed strapped down, with a catheter, and pain in my chest.... but it was spring outside now. I could see out the window there were trees in bloom. I was so confused. My female drill sergeant was screaming me awake.
"Wake up, Private! "
I could hear her like she was far away... I didn't fully wake until she used my first name. My vision was fuzzy at first and then I focused on her. She was very close to my face and screaming in my ear. When I made eye contact with her she looked me over and said, "You look like shit."
I asked her where I was and why. She said I had pneumonia and was admitted "last week" ... but, like I said, when I looked out the window I could tell it was spring and I didn't remember anything after January. I was so confused. I asked her to get the doctor for me. She left. I looked around the room and there were 3 other girls in the ward. The one closest to me said I had been brought in 7 days before now. She said I was unconscious when I was brought in up til now. And then she said, "they roll you out of here every day for a few hours and there are marks on your temples when you come back" O_O say what? I asked her if any of them were ever unconscious. She replied, "no, we have pneumonia". Inside myself all kinds of alarm bells were going off. I broke out in a sweat. What happened to me? Right away I felt they had scrambled around in my brain. At that point my drill came back with a doctor. I should have kept my mouth shut but I lacked control back then. "Have you been scrambling around in my brain?" I asked. The doctor did not respond. He pushed something on the wall behind me. Not even a minute later two orderlies came onto the ward and wheeled me out of there and took me on an elevator and put me on another floor and just left me there in the hallway. NO ONE was around. There was a clock in the hallway and it was 44 minutes until a nurse came along and said "I'm going to take your catheter out and then you will go get cleaned up".
I asked her what month it was. She told me it was March.

She half led me and half supported me to some showers. My legs seemed weak. I was a little dizzy when I stood up. She left me in a latrine and then showed up again with a towel and soap and a comb and a hospital gown/robe and some stupid looking foam slippers. She told me to get cleaned up and to wait for her to come back. When I looked in the mirror I was so shocked. It didn't look like me looking back. My face was black with dirt. It looked like I had just walked out of a coal mine. My hair was matted and dreaded... that tiny plastic comb was not going to work in this mess. My arms and legs were covered in some kind of greasy substance that felt like motor oil. I had bruises in various places. I was so scared of what might have happened to me and what was going to happen to me. I showered. I washed my hair with the white bar of soap as she had not given me any shampoo. I had to soap up 3 times to get rid of that greasy substance before my skin felt clean. It hurt to breathe.
And that part was concerning because I had not been sick at ll since I was a small child. So it didn't make sense that I had pneumonia. And my last memories back in January I was not sick. Not even a little.

The nurse came back right as I was putting those squeaky foam slippers on. I asked her where I was and she informed me I was in the psyche ward. I asked her why would I be in a psyche ward if all I had was pneumonia? She avoided my question and put me in a room and said someone would be in to see me shortly.

Shortly my ass. It was hours before someone showed up and he was just someone bringing me a tray of chow. Then a very decorated officer came the next day after that and asked me if I recognized him. I remembered his face but not from where so I just said, "no". Finally that same day, the nurse came back and took me to "the big room" and there were other soldiers there. they all looked like they were drugged... medicated, very docile and not speaking, staring out the window or at the wall. Except one guy. One really big guy who came over to talk to me and said he would protect me from the other men while I was in there. I asked him why he was there and he said that he just could not take the training. O_o.

No one had any answers for me. I did not see a psychiatrist or doctor at all for the next two weeks. in fact I never saw one at all. Every day the officer who had asked me if I recognized him would come into my room and ask the same question, I kept giving the same answer and then he would just leave. No discussion. He did have a seriously creepy vibe and really fucked up eyebrows.

Then one day after being there for two weeks with no answers from anyone as to why I was there in the loony bin, where I didn't get put on meds like everyone else, my Battalion Commander came for a visit. Yes, the same one who fed me the donut. He took me to an office which just had a desk and two chairs and nothing else in it. He sat me down on one side of the desk and asked me how I felt. I asked him why I was in there and what happened to me and why was this happening? He did not answer any of my questions.

Instead he said, "We are going to graduate you next week. Then you will go on to AIT in Monterrey and learn Russian. You will speak Russian. You will eat Russian. You will shit Russian and like it and then you will go there."

Well, I just lost it. I was not about to go be some kind of spy and screw old men for information after what they had just done to me. They wanted me to go to Russia... I said NO NO NO ♪♫♪
He would not answer any of my questions about what happened to me. NOT ONE.

He left the room and came back with a red phone (fucking with my head much?). I thought for sure I was going to Charlie Chicken Farm (army jail). Red phone. No answers. Just a straight faced expression on the man.
He dialed a number. I could hear it ringing and then I heard my mother's voice on the other end, "Allo?" in her french accent. Again ... wha??? calling my mom? What did she have to do with any of this?

He says to her, " Mrs.-------, we are sending your daughter home. We can't break her."
WTF?!
what in the hell does that mean? I NEVER got one single answer out of anyone. NOT ONE. dammit.

I was discharged from the hospital. I was sent to another barracks to do the hurry up and wait game for discharge papers. That took a few weeks. Then I took an AmTrack home finally. On the way there was a special forces guy in my compartment who would just not shut up. I am pretty sure he was assigned to watch me actually go home. I am also pretty sure the big guy in the psyche ward was also a plant to watch me in case I remembered anything. He actually contacted me 30 years later by phone. I didn't remember him right away. It was creepy... how did he find me?

Many strange things have happened since then in my life. Watchers. Followers. Phone calls. That is the tame part and I can't really talk about the other stuff. because ... well just because. Not yet anyway.

Last year I decided to do a remote viewing session on my missing memory. I often make my own targets for remote viewing and place them aside in envelopes for a month or two until I forget what I had asked and then I just choose one and assign target numbers to the envelope and do a viewing. It is good practice and keeps me in "psychic shape" .
I added the pictures of the remote viewing for this situation below.

I am telling this experience of mine in hopes of finding others who have experienced the same thing or similar. But also as a warning to others. And also maybe someone has advice on how to retrieve these memories.
All I want is my memory back. I feel robbed and used. I was born in a navy hospital under very strange circumstances also so maybe I was always supposed to have this happen somehow. But dammit. I need to remember.