In a complete hysterical panic, my mother rushed up and threw her arms around me as if she was rescuing me. She threw some sort of dark cloth over me, and she and my father took me off the boat. She took me into a bathroom to change clothes near the Jungleboat ride. My mother ushered me into a stall and began changing my clothes without closing the door behind us. I was embarrassed. A lady came into the restroom and my mom said to her, "My daughter fell into the water and we are changing her clothes."
No wonder it has been difficult, at times, for me to trust my own awareness, even as an adult.
One night, my programmers decided I was to actually replace the real Tinkerbell in flight over the park at night in the dark. The men in park uniforms walked up behind the real Tinkerbell who was actually an older lady and this night she was in costume, ready to fly. The men told her to step aside, that I was going to fly that night. I didn't know where my mom and dad went and I was cold and scared. The woman was very angry. She wanted to do her job and yelled at the men but they told her just to relax, that she would still get paid and that no one would have to know she didn't fly and she could go home early and still collect her paycheck. Still angry she left and the men dressed me in a white Tinkerbell costume and strapped me into the flight harness. After I was secured, a man asked me if I was ready. He showed me where to hold onto the front straps so I wouldn't get my hands or arms ripped off while I was flying high above the Magic Kingdom. The whole experience was terrifying. They must have given me a drug because everything appeared to be in lots of pictures like a camera with a whole circle of lenses of the same picture, like a kaleidoscope. As I flew, I felt afraid that I would fall out and splat below on everyone, but after a little while I became numb. I could no longer think or feel. I must have fainted because when I got to the other end of the sky ride, a few men removed the harness and tried to get me to come to. One man slapped me but that didn't even wake me up, then someone else put smelling salts under my nose and I woke up. I don't remember much else except I couldn't walk very well and had to be carried out of Disneyland. That night there were no stops on Main Street to get toys or a balloon or candy. I felt sick and laid in the back of our old Buick until we got home. My brothers didn't go with us, it was just my mom and dad and me. My father said I was the 'star' of the family. I didn't like being the star if that's how it was, but he seemed very excited about it.
My neighbors, my "second mother" Mary and her daughter Peggy, took me to a Hollywood theatre to watch The Parent Trap, a 1961 Disney Movie starring Hayley Mills. The theme of this movie helped to shape the reality of my inner "twin sister," Sharon. I was Susan and my twin sister was Sharon. This Sharon personality was created in an attempt to further split my mind and was anchored within my personality structure in order to house a vast reservoir of experiences with the elite. Sharon was to identify herself with "high society."
Now of course, my inner twin sister Sharon also had to have programming experiences at Disneyland. To accomplish that our neighbor Mary took me to Disneyland with her daughter Peggy, who was my age. At one point we visited the beautiful Magic Castle that is located in the middle of the Magic Kingdom. As I walked through the Castle, exploring the area, I rounded a corner and as I stepped into a darkened area, a man in a black cape that had been hiding in a dark corner of the castle stepped forward and grabbed me. He put his hand over my mouth so I wouldn't scream and he elbowed me in the stomach before he raped me. Then he took me in the direction of the dog kennels in the front of Disneyland where other bad things happened. Every year, Sharon had to watch the "President Show with Lincoln" that played in a theatre on Main Street and in order to keep her secret experiences hidden from her conscious mind, this twin sister part of me also had to be exposed to many of the same kinds of trauma.
Sharon was created to be Catholic, and Mary and Peggy often took me with them to Catholic mass. (They didn't know about my connection to Henry Kissinger.) I was taught about Holy Water and genuflecting and the Stations of the Cross and Confession and Hail Marys and saying the Rosary. Peggy let me borrow her rosary beads that had a little blue enamel picture of the Blessed Mary on it. I learned to say, "Hail Mary full of grace the Lord is with thee," over and over again for each bead. We always had to wear a hat or a scarf. They had a lot of rules you had to follow. Had to get that Holy Water and dab it on yourself at your Stations of the Cross; forehead, heart then each shoulder, before you genuflected upon entering the pews. Then we knelt down and said the Rosary for a very long time. With my childlike consciousness, I thought it was a dumb thing to do and kept asking everyone why we had to say that and what it would do, but all everyone ever said was that I asked too many questions. During the many times I attended mass with Mary and Peggy, I silently prayed to the statue of the Blessed Virgin and asked her to help me, although I was unable to «think» about why I needed help.
Sharon was a "child of the elite" and later on, serviced the elite, such as the Rockefellers. She was often the sexually-oriented personality when I was used for sex and mind file work. «Sharon» was my highly sexual counterpart and «Sue» contained the messages in mind files.
To further my split conditioning, there was a small stone building in a cemetery where the men in suits locked me in for the whole night. They took my clothes away from me, pushed me into the dark room and closed the door. It was cold on the concrete floor and I could feel spider webs in the corners. It was scary, so I just sat down on my feet in the corner, hugged my legs to my body and closed my eyes.
After awhile, an angel appeared. She said her name was Maria and that I was being prepared for the future. She said that she and other angels would help me and I would be "sustained." I didn't know what that word meant but felt like it was okay because I felt so much love from her. While my spirit self was sitting next to her on a bench, my physical body was still in that concrete room. She told me she would be very close to me later when I was older and could understand more. She explained that these people were unkind because they didn't understand, but that my angel friends loved me very much and would be there whenever I needed them. All of a sudden, before I was ready to leave her, I was back in the cold concrete cubicle, still sitting squatted on my feet and she was gone. I felt like I had traveled somewhere and I wanted to go back there because it didn't hurt and wasn't cold there, but I couldn't figure out how to get there. I had to wait for the angel to escort me. Everyone was always escorting me everywhere-on earth and in heaven. When the men came to let me out, it was still dark and they dropped me off at home. Entering the breezeway, I went through the back door, into my room and went to sleep.
Now of course, in order to insure that Sharon's memory was kept separate from my conscious mind, trauma had to be induced to create the dissociative barrier. Among other traumas, I was taken to St. Mel's Catholic Church in Woodland Hills and was molested by a short fat "Father," at the back of the church in a side room. This priest who spoke with an Irish accent and smelled like alcohol, pulled my hair while he sexually satisfied himself in my mouth. When he was finished with me, two men in suits escorted me to an awaiting limousine. I had short hair and wore a felt poodle skirt, flats, white socks and a white blouse. It wasn't unusual to see limousines lined up in front of this large Catholic church for use at funerals or weddings. It was nearing dark and once out of sight of the public, these men were very rough with me. They threw me into the back seat and once inside the limo I laid on the seat in a fetal position, rocking myself, terrified out of my mind.