The Hospital and the Visions

The Result of the Vision of Christ
Emotional Trauma and School
Sex and Emotional Trauma
Adolescence and Emotional Trauma
God, Friends, and the Opposite Sex
Correct Thinking
Types of Thought
Scripture and The Miracle Inside My Mind
The Equation of Thought
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Copyright 2010 Louis A. Morrone, All Rights Reserved.

      Everyone has their story, and here I tell mine. Below is the description of how I got into the mess of having mental demons inside me. I tell about experiences that get stuck in the head, that change all others, and dictate how the simplest of things will be seen until the day you die. I describe thoughts that become forgotten, yet remain present; thoughts that are unseen, yet relevant, overlooked, yet of utmost importance; like the circuitry of a machine, these thoughts become components of the mind, part of a cruel and grotesque anatomy that determines a good life or a ruined one.

     I anguished over this description for over thirty years and slowly, year after year, added to what you're about to read. The thoughts of what transpired couldn't fit in one moment through my human head. When recalling the darkest moments of my life, I was a child again, unable to take in all the feelings at once, so the memories had to sift out slowly, like the sand of an hourglass. 

    I believe that I suffered from my thoughts because God loves you, and because the seed that Christ planted inside me can take root inside you. I believe that overcoming what is described below was a great event, and a Divine Miracle. I stood above the moment when I obtained this memory. I stood above the human ego when I obtained it. Without this memory, I’d have nothing. Without this memory, I’d probably be dead.



The Hospital

180 I remembered suffering from encephalitis at the age of two and going to the hospital.   My first day in the hospital was like a dog’s first day at the pound. It was a cold, bland building. I was among strangers, wondering if I’d ever see anyone I loved again. I knew my mother would return, or so I kept telling myself, but the thought that maybe she wouldn’t was painful. This was the beginning of the lava, the fiery ball on my forehead. I lay on my back with not much to do but think thoughts that would get me into trouble. I was tense with worry, so much worry and fear that the feelings hurt. I cried and cried and cried, but couldn’t absorb the feelings all at once—like a river clogged by falling trees, the feelings backed up, and sat on my forehead. 

181      The gasps for air between my cries filled my lungs with the cold, antiseptic smells of the hospital, as the nurses, like prison guards, walked by, and routinely observed my tearful pleas for attention. Nothing from my past could prepare me for the isolation and lack of warmth. My hands felt like they were falling asleep, and tingled and tingled, until they ached. The nurses occasionally held them, which made them feel better, but they would say they didn’t have time. The nurses were keeping score, and I wasn’t worthy. It was hard enough on them to endure my endless crying. I was expecting too much. It wasn’t their fault I was in need. There was a competition concerning which nurse would get stuck holding my hands.

     If this was all that happened, I might have been okay, but one day I found myself being wheeled into an examination room. The feelings of the first day were intensified—more fear, more anxiety—the feelings backed up, and burned on my forehead. My mother was around somewhere—this provided some sense of security, but the people were strangers dressed in odd attire. I distrusted them with every inch of my body. How could I have confidence in odd, unfamiliar people? They touched me without introduction, or asking permission, and put wires on my head. They didn’t tell me why they were putting devices on my head. They didn’t explain what they were doing or even talk to me. The feelings of the first day amplified—more fear, more anxiety—the feelings grew larger, and burned on my forehead.


182 I saw that I might be needlessly panicking, and told myself I didn’t have to be scared, and that everything would be okay. If I could only survive what was happening, I’d see my mother again. But, the uncertainty was emotionally anguishing. Maybe everything would be okay, but what if it wasn’t? How could I know? If I only knew what they were doing to me! The lack of knowledge was a great psychic pain. There was a pressure in my lower back. They seemed to be sticking something in me. I watched myself like an animal seeing itself moan in pain, wondering if it really needed to feel so bad. The fear magnified into a burning ball on my forehead. I yearned very deeply for my mother to come and save me. Intense yearning, yearning I could never again feel in my life.

183 It was at this point, the worse thing that I’ve ever experienced happened. The questions were answered. I looked to the side, and saw my mother walk away. The loving image of my mother shattered into fragments of resentment, betrayal, abandonment, anger, and hatred. I couldn’t trust her! She stabbed me in the back! I thought I was forsaken, and that she no longer cared for me—I’d never see her again! I felt an explosive, all encompassing void—like I was falling off a cliff and grasping upward for life. It was as if the sadness of a lifetime was compressed into a few brief moments.  However, through the dread, I declared I would survive! I’d make it alone! In my minds eye, I was strong, and could stand above the powerful emotions!  But unfortunately, I began to reason. I thought since she abandoned me, I wouldn’t be seeing her anymore. Since I wouldn’t be seeing her anymore, she was dead! The conclusion that she died exploded in front of my mind like a mushroom cloud, and the world collapsed into a mental abyss; all hope, strength, and drive to succeed fell into a dark pit of despair. Dead were the chances of a familiar caress between the mechanical touch of strangers. Dead were the chances of ripping the wires off my head and escaping. Dead was the ambition to push forward and not let go. Dead was control over my body. I could see my eye sockets shaking. It felt like being in a crashing container box with no control--smashing, banging, and tumbling down, down, down… Everything was chaotic but the stationary thought of her death--my body and mind focused on the only thing to be sure of: She’s dead. She’s dead. She’s dead. The doctor repeatedly shouted, “It’s almost over, it’s almost over,” but I had no control over what he did. I couldn’t take myself out of the hospital. His voice was loud like thunder, but I could only watch with no understanding. I couldn’t remove the wires from my head. The painful tingling in my hands spread to my entire body—as if a thousand needles poked every inch of skin—my vision blurred, and the room got darker and darker as the doctor’s screams grew fainter and fainter, and my consciousness felt like it shifted from the room and burst into a numb, vacant state of abject absence--for a moment the slate had been cleaned.

184 Afterward, I remained alone like the charred remnant of a destroyed world, staring upward, trying to comprehend the isolation, poverty, and emptiness. I noticed I was conscious, and felt surprised, because when the room got dark, I appeared to have stopped thinking, as if I no longer existed. I had seen myself fall, give up, and lose everything, and was intrigued that there was still thought in my mind. I reasoned that a floor existed when it seemed there was none, and it served as a safety net, and caught me. This floor was my thoughts. The image of a king came to mind. The king had lost everything, yet he was okay. I thought if he could lose everything, and be okay, perhaps I could also. I reasoned there might be hope.

185 I reasoned that my only hope was for God to bring my mother back to life. I prayed harder than I could ever again pray. I begged God to bring her back to life. “Bring her back, and I’ll do anything you want,” I pleaded. I repeated this promise over and over. There was no self determination. Everything depended upon God, nothing upon me. I was broken, waiting to be fixed. Several moments passed, and my mother popped into the room like a jolt of love: praising, consoling, supporting. It was a miracle! I won the lottery! I could never again feel such joy! While she was with me, things were great, but then she left. I was again alone with my thoughts—but now I struggled with both the fear of the hospital and the memory of the test. The memory of the test vibrated like noise blasting my ears—ALONE, ABANDONED, MOTHER DEAD! ALONE, ABANDONED, MOTHER DEAD! ALONE, ABANDONED, MOTHER DEAD! I shouted inside my mind, “Shut if of, shut it off!” But no, the torment was there and wouldn’t leave—MOTHER DEAD! MOTHER DEAD! MOTHER DEAD! MOTHER DEAD! The memory was like a separate thing, apart from me—it roamed the battlefield of my mind like a monster—DEAD! DEAD! DEAD! DEAD! DEAD! DEAD! DEAD! DEAD! DEAD!

186 I wished for time with my mother, so she could make everything okay. She could explain what happened, and end the fear. But no, I was alone as before, only now haunted by what happened—and not up to fighting both the fear of the hospital and the memory of the test.

187 I reasoned that what happened didn’t happen. My mother never died! Although this was true, the thoughts were in my head. The awful feeling was lodged in my forehead like an unwanted intruder. It weighed upon my thoughts like holding a dumbbell above my head without having anywhere to set it down. I held, held, and held, but where do I put it to rest? There wasn’t anywhere, so I blamed myself.

"I've made a big mistake," I thought.

188 At this point in my description of what happened, I’d like to point out that a two year old is a thinking person and you can’t put their mind on a shelf and forget them. The thoughts of a two year old can be profound, but the two year old has fewer ways of articulating them. They may have no way of communicating what’s on their mind. I believe a two year old can think like an adult in that an adult will mix truth with emotion to create faulty conclusions, like superstitions. Adults believe in prayer. Adults don't know everything. Adults become scared. Adults will abhor thoughts concerning sexuality and religion, and deny them. So below, you'll see that as a two year old, I began several habitual thought patterns that would become a big problem; a child believing he lost his mother would be as traumatic as an adult losing the whole world—It’d be like being fabulously rich one day and in abject poverty the next. Shunning these thoughts was to demonstrate a common error in human thinking, the idea that some thoughts are inferior, and therefore, should be ostracized. As an adolescent, shunning thoughts would become second nature to me, and dominate my personality. In chapter two, you’ll see that I was able to understand the harm denial created, and this allowed me to unlock the torment. If I could have stopped thinking as an adolescent, I might have been in less trouble, but like a two year old, my mind couldn’t be put away like a physical possession… So now I continue the description of the hospital experience... Slowly the consequence of my thoughts sunk in. My mother never abandoned me, but the terrifying feelings were stuck in my head. I couldn’t stop thinking about her death. The more I tried to avoid the thoughts, the more I thought them. I wished to redo the regretful moment and not think she was dead—I had committed a horrid, sinful act! Unfortunately, I couldn’t go back and redeem myself. A thought can’t be taken back! I continued to think too much. I believed thoughts could come true. It was an epiphany. The thoughts of her death would make it more likely that she would die! The feelings lodged in my forehead were a powerful prayer for death--to think something is to want it; it seemed so, of course it was true--the logic was clear! To continue to think these thoughts would be unspeakably evil! I wished to unthink the thoughts—their existence was proof that I had failed. I was distraught with disappointment in myself. The shame exploded and engulfed my myopic, self-righteous view of the world. My senses were devoured, as if by a cloud of smoke. I could no longer hear, or see, or touch, or smell, or taste. All that mattered was that I had thought the wrong thing.

     I didn’t distinguish between the medical test and my thoughts. The medical test, a memory, became my thoughts. Like feelings of love, joy, and security, the feelings of terror became a part of me. Like decaying leaves and debris become a part of soil, my thoughts became an aspect of me. I was bad because the test was bad. I pitted the truth—she didn’t die—against the thoughts of her death. It was as if there was a verbal brawl between the fact that she didn’t die, and the truth that I thought she did. “She didn’t die,” I thought. “How could you think she did?” This was the worse act of my life! I could never tell anyone I did this. I asked myself, “What kind of bad person would think his mother was dead?” I couldn’t live with these thoughts. It was as if I was in a life raft and there was no room for the thoughts that mistakenly believed she died. I was committed to destroy the thoughts. Each conclusion nailed down the verdict: “If it weren’t for my evil, stupid thoughts, I wouldn’t be suffering as if she died. I wouldn’t be tired, and unable to deal with the feelings. Without my thoughts, I’d be able to withstand the fear of the hospital. It’s all my fault.”

189 “A good person wouldn’t think his mother was dead,” I thought. The self hatred created the lizard. The lizard was me! The lizard was me, trying to survive, trying to last, through the most horrible moments of my life. I damned myself. I denied myself. I defended honor. “It’s my stupid thoughts that got me into this mess!” I thought. I was ashamed before God. I repeated over and over and over, “Didn’t think it, didn’t think it.” I shoved the regrettable thoughts out of my mind, thinking they’d go away, but the feelings pushed back, and vibrated inside my consciousness; and so, within the room of my mind, began the fight between good and evil. This battle is documented in chapter two, which explains how the feelings mutated, and almost destroyed my life.

190 The rest of the hospital stay, I was afraid to be awake. I was afraid I might see something terrifying. Sleeping was an escape from the place. At first sleeping worked, but in time, it became more difficult. When I’d wake up, I was alone; and every moment, I felt the lava and the smoke. “Didn’t think it, didn’t think it,” I’d repeat. I shoved the feelings away, and replaced them with the thought that she returned. “Oh no, not me, I could never think such a thing,” I assured myself. I yearned for things to be the way they used to be.

191 My mother visited off and on. I believed there was a correlation between my thoughts and when she returned. She seemed to return when I believed strong enough that she would. When she wasn’t there, I blamed myself for not thinking right. I was terrified of the thoughts of the test; thinking the thoughts would cause her to stay away, or worse. When I thought of her death, I felt like she’d die—it seemed like avoiding the thoughts allowed her to return.

192 I became very tired of the fear, and the intense, uncontrollable, exaggerated emotions of the hospital. I was tired of yearning for security, and telling myself everything would be okay. I remembered before the hospital, when everything seemed to be okay, and vowed to never again be alone without my mother. This was a yearning like going without water, and imagining what it would be like to finally drink—I idolized her—she was the perfect mother. No one could have a better mother. This image was branded into my consciousness. This image existed with the lava and the smoke. And there they sat in my mind, like the sun, the moon, and the stars; and the lizard stood watch, and allowed no one to enter.

The First Vision

193 It was during this time that I had a vision. I was looking up at the sky and saw shapes in the clouds. I began seeing things in the clouds. I saw an amphitheater. I saw a small building that held the writings of the greatest thinkers in the world. There were scholars standing around this building. They came to converse and talk about their knowledge and discoveries.

194 I saw three podiums. Three men stood in debate. The victor would become the supreme ruler of the civilization. The man on the left was the most formidable, powerful man in the civilization. The man in the center was also very powerful. The man on the right was a successful commoner, who had risen in financial wealth. The man on the left and the man in the center viewed each other as their serious competition. The man on the right wasn’t regarded as having a chance of success. There was a jury of wise men who would oversee the discussion, and determine their leader. The man on the left and the man in the center turned to each other, and verbally attacked each other. The discussion was very heated, and within minutes each of them had lost his composure. There was a verbal brawl. The wise men were shocked. They called an emergency conference for a brief discussion. Suddenly, there was only one choice. Suddenly, the choice was not between three, but one. The man on the right was the only one who could now become the supreme ruler. Without speaking a word, he had won the debate. He was the ultimate supreme ruler.

195 The ultimate supreme ruler owned everything. He owned the land. He owned the businesses. He owned the cattle and fruit and clothes. He owned even the people. He reasoned that the value of owning everything is valueless. He gave every family the dwelling they lived in. And then, he reasoned the value of owning the people is valueless. This raised a particular problem. The past rulers and their militia had all subjugated the people. There were two factions in the population. If the people were freed, they’d kill each other. The ultimate supreme ruler then called the militia into the innermost sections of the city. The people became anxious with fear. The previous rulers used the militia to enslave them. This new ruler was calling the militia in closer to have a tighter grip on their lives. For what evil purpose could this be?

196 The ultimate supreme ruler waited until the military had a full grip on the civilization. He then used one of the greatest political postulates to come out of his rule: The militia could be used not to subjugate the people, but to protect them. Knowing the two factions would fight if they were freed, the militia would be used to protect the people from themselves. With the militia’s tight grip on the civilization, the people were freed and were safe from each other! Everyone was full of love and joy!

197 One day the ultimate supreme ruler was standing near a cliff overlooking a beautiful beach. He noticed an inlet and how the contours of the water conformed to the shape of the land. He then thought of one of the greatest economic ideas in the history of the world. He concluded that given a plane of water adjacent to a plane of land, the removal of planned areas of land would cause the water to follow. The water would conform to the shape of the land. He then instructed his people to remove areas of land adjacent to the water. To the amazement and thrill of all, the water followed and conformed to the shape of the land. Using this concept, the people built huge waterways that reached deep into the most remote areas of the civilization. The waterways acted like veins supplying life support to every inch of the civilization. The civilization prospered and became the strongest economic power in the history of the world. Goods and services were quickly and efficiently delivered using the great system of waterways.

198 The ultimate supreme ruler was 57 years old. He had never been married. He respected the rights of his people, so he didn’t take the wife of another. Instead, he chose a young 17-year-old woman to marry. She was very slim. She had long, straight, black hair, and very dark skin. Her face was petite and beautiful. She was devoted to him.

199 He placed his warn and wrinkled hand on her thin, supple waist. His arm slowly moved around her body. Her eyes were like small, dark beams that glowed only onto him. Looking at her was like taking a journey to a land of wish fulfillment. Every urge was addressed; every urge was fulfilled. Touching her opened his senses to a waterfall of pleasure that he never new existed. Every kiss, every caress, every touch, every moment was greater and more sensual than could be imagined. Her breasts were like living works of art, covered with silk, and soaked in honey. Her thin, luscious legs were like pillars chiseled by the greatest craftsmen, and designed by a great genius. Her shoulders were like rolling hills that touched his soul. Her neck was like a fountain of sweet fruits. Her face was more beautiful than the sun, the moon, and the stars. This woman gave him all the pleasure a woman was meant to give. Being with her fulfilled all the desires and fantasies any man could imagine…One morning, he awoke after a wonderful night of being with her. He was standing outside his body. At first, he wasn’t sure what to make of it, but then, he realized he had died. His wife was there, yet he couldn’t touch her. He couldn’t be with her. He couldn’t talk to her. He would never again experience the ecstasy of her body. A great, deep sadness came over him, a huge, moaning sorrow. He realized his whole life was spent on work. He never had a family. He never had children. He had only just begun to enjoy his wife. He realized he had missed so much! He considered coming back. Maybe he could enter the body of a newborn. Maybe he could once again meet with his wife who he loved so much! But no, he thought. How would she know it was him? And he would be so young, and she so old. It wouldn’t work. He stayed for a few days while the entire civilization was in deep mourning. They paraded his body through the streets. People followed the body moaning in pain. Never in the history of the world was a leader more loved. After a few days, he left the earth. He traveled to a place people never go. He saw the souls of many, and where they rested. He came to a great ballroom where many souls partied, but realized such a place wasn’t for him. He kept going further and further until he found a nice place. It was a small room. Transparent. With a small desk. But he could look down and see the earth, and watch his people.

200 The ultimate supreme ruler’s wife assumed the duties as ruler of the greatest civilization in the history of the world. For forty years she ruled, and the civilization prospered. People from all over the world traveled to the civilization to trade, and marvel at its wonders. The greatest poets, scientists, artists, craftsmen, and thinkers all lived in this civilization. One day a great flood came. The entire civilization was destroyed. All remnants of the civilization were forever lost to the bottom of the ocean. The name of the ultimate supreme ruler was erased from the earth. It was as if he was never born. The ultimate supreme ruler’s wife died along with all the people in the civilization. She came to him. When she arrived at his room, she danced like a glowing dolphin, swimming in the sea. She was so happy to be reunited with him! There in that room, at a place where you can look down and see the world, they dwelled together for 8,000 years.

201 The ultimate supreme ruler did a lot of studying. He loved wisdom. He became known as one of the most learned people in the universe. Sometimes great events would occur on earth, and people would ask if he’d like to travel and watch closer. He’d say no, he was happy where he was. The earth years seemed to go by incredibly fast. First one century, and then the next, would pass. It was hard to comprehend how 8,000 years could pass by, but once it did, it was just another fact. The “now” of this century is the same as the “now” of the first, second, third, and so on.

202 There is no motion within consciousness. Or at least, the motion that exists is at an extremely reduced rate of speed. On earth, motion is an intricate part of daily life, and therefore, time effects people everyday. When physical motion doesn’t exist, the conscious mind perceives time differently. Time is something that happens somewhere else. Time is observed. Watching time is like watching a fish swim in a bowl. You can see the fish, understand how it’s living, but not live in the water.

203 A messenger from God approached the ultimate supreme ruler. He was asked to be reborn. It was optional because there were two others’ capable of doing what needed to be done. There are other planets that humans inhabit, and he was surprised that he was asked to return to the earth. He thought about how his name had been erased from the earth, and how no one knew he existed. This was why God was giving him first chance. He asked if his wife could return with him, and the request was accepted. He decided to return.

204 He needed to prepare for his work on earth. He needed to overcome something so people would know who he was. He needed to overcome great things. He was given a book to study. This book came from a different part of the universe than the earth. He studied very hard, because he’d have to recall the information after he was born. This is a difficult task, but if he failed, his mission on earth would fail. He learned about 1-2 thought. He learned about 1-4 thought. He learned the relationship between 1-2 thought and 1-4 thought. He learned how to produce memory.

205 There was a search for a birthplace. There was a search for a body. The Soviet Union was an option, but was rejected. When it was time to be born, he walked to the earth with another gentleman who would precede him in birth. Before they reached the earth, his wife hurriedly approached. She was to be born after him, and had not yet set off to the earth. She was upset. She explained that she would be born deaf. She pleaded with him to talk to someone, and get it changed. He said he had no time, because he was about to be born. She replied that she would therefore, not return. She would wait for him where they resided for 8,000 years. There would be a replacement for her.

206 He stood at the field of souls, a place where souls stand before they descend into the body. He saw many souls descend. They looked like glowing fish, majestically spiraling downward—one after the other, like balls of light, falling to the earth. When it was his time, he slowly went down into the body. He thought about all his knowledge. The intelligentsia of the universe respected him for his great knowledge and wisdom. He became worried about becoming obscure. No more respect, no more admiration, suddenly lost in a sea of humanity! What if something goes wrong and he’s stuck down there? As he entered the body, his knowledge and memory faded. His knowledge and memory slowly separated from him, and drifted away. He panicked. He tried harder and harder to remember who he was. He felt a great psychic pain. He regretted being born. Over and over and over with all his psychic energy he repeated that he was a king. But suddenly it was over. He had forgotten. He looked up and saw a dim light in the middle of two dark shafts. He had been born.

The Second Vision

207 There was another vision. This was a vision I would think about much more often. This was a vision that would inspire me to overcome the emotional scars. This was the energy that held me up during my weakest moments. This was the energy that allowed me to be weak, yet strong, young, yet old, ignorant, yet wise. This was a vision of Christ. At first, Christ looked like a cartoon figure walking toward me, five feet above my head. As he got closer, he was flesh and blood. He looked to be about 19 or 20 years old. Christ said I would overcome the emotional scars. Christ’s words fell like a soft, consistent rain; gentle, yet powerful, like the waves of a tranquil sea; I felt his power. While asleep, the rays of his thoughts gently stroked my mind. While awake, staring into his eyes, his thoughts soothed me. Christ showed me the future. He was with me, confronting the emotional scars. He supported my thoughts, my mind, like a tree stake, he held my up, as if I was strong. I was empowered, bolstered; his thoughts were in my head. He breathed pure reason into the veins of my consciousness. “What will happen inside your mind is very important,” Christ said. “People will study your life.” Although the hospital was a lonely, terrifying, and sterile place, Christ comforted me, stared into me, and I stared back.

208 Perhaps witnessing Christ’s consciousness gave me the yardstick in which, in later years, I could judge my own. Correct consciousness was imprinted upon my being; I felt it, saw it, and was possessed by it. There was always a burning light, no matter how bad things were, because the glow of Christ’s consciousness was in me.

209 After I got home from the hospital, I remembered the desperate cries for someone to be with me. I remembered the nurses saying they wished they had time. I remembered thinking my mother was dead. The memories echoed like a distant, faint noise inside my mind. “She came back, she came back,” I’d repeat. I clung to this memory like a desperate swimmer clutching a rope during a storm at sea. “Oh no, I could never have thought she was dead,” I’d assure myself. My mother told me to admit the bad experiences at the hospital. She said if I denied my feelings, something terrible would happen. But she said these words like an afterthought, like she didn't know what was happening inside me; besides, I was incapable of expressing the emotions, and due to Christ’s visit, I figured the rules didn’t apply to me.

210 As time went by, and the distant memory drifted farther and farther into the past, I was faced with the task of denying what I no longer remembered. This meant denying more and more things, and each denial caused the noise to increase, and vibrate more violently through my thoughts…

Fifteen Years Later...

     On Jan. 13, 1976, fifteen years after the hospital test, I wrote: “I can’t think. It’s because of the emotional scar from Christine—I think. I can’t remember things—especially not in school. My mind feels like a cloth singed by a hot red iron. There’s a smoldering log stuck in the front part of my mind. It burns and burns in front of my eyes.  I guess it’s my fault. But it hurts. I’m trying to feel better, but it doesn’t work. It’s almost like God wants me to suffer. It’s like God wants the thorns of my life to come up and poke me. So they’ll hurt more. So I will bleed. So my wounds will become infected and gangrene will set in. So I will hurt—I have hurt. I have hurt to the deepest soul.”

     The hospital test was long forgotten, but the images, feelings, and thoughts, like an old movie replaying over and over, chronically projected into my consciousness. The fifteen years of denying the fear and terror of the hospital festered in my mind and burned on my forehead, just like the feelings backed up onto my forehead at the age of two. The pain felt like it was getting worse and worse, and seemed like a physical substance.  I thought about getting a knife and cutting it out of my head. I worried that if the pain got any worse, I 'd have to kill myself.  

     It became difficult to interact with people. Sometimes when I looked at them or thought about them, the pain intensified. I didn’t know what thought or action would cause the feelings to worsen.   I thought if I could solve the problem with an old girlfriend, the pain would go away. I tried to get another girlfriend, but was unsuccessful. I was pushing everyone who wanted to be my friend away, and looking for friendship with those who would reject me.

     “Another girl has evaporated in front of me. Who will be the next? This one seemed so sure, the surest of them all! Yet she turned out to be as cold as the coldest—or maybe not that bad, but still she poked into my life, and tore into my mind—and now she’s gone—just like Christine.”

      I became more and more confused, and thought God said he'd find me a replacement girlfriend. When the replacement didn’t come, I felt betrayed. This brought on feelings from the hospital; only then I thought it was God who had abandoned me, God who had stabbed me in the back, and God who  had forsaken me! I thought God lied. I couldn’t understand how he could lie. I reasoned I couldn’t rely on anyone, not even God.

June 1, 1976

     ...This game I’m playing quite forcefully is terrible and ruthless. I’m being made to see something that others can’t see, but it hurts so bad. I have no choice. I must play the game, or kill myself!  Why me?  Why Me? It’s ruthless and merciless. It waits until I make mistakes, and then without mercy hurts me, does terrible things--a molten needle presses against my forehead. 

Sixteen Years Later...

Sept. 21, 1977

     “Here, then,” said the Lord, “is the covenant I will make. Before the eyes of all your people I will work such marvels as have never been wrought in any nation anywhere on earth, so that this people among whom you live may see how awe-inspiring are the deeds which I, the Lord, will do at your side. But you, on your part, must keep the commandments I am giving you today.”  Exodus 34:10 to 34:11

     There is no choice to make. I cannot choose something over what my body wants. I must face what my body wants and needs to face.

I stand before the great god,

the god of my body and past.

I must kneel before it and bow

to its wishes. I must flow with

it and become one…

Seventeen Years Later...

Nov. 13, 1977


Wherever you go, you follow.

Whatever you see, you are there.

Whoever you are with, you are with them.

The feelings are invisible walls

that separate you from people.

Although unseen, the walls are as real as stone.


You can reach out to another, but the person won’t help. People don’t understand. They don’t see. They don’t feel. They don’t get it.


People are your enemy;

they laugh, talk behind your back,

ostracize, and think you’re weird.


No one wants to be seen with you. You are the sewage of the world. You are human, like them; that makes them hate you. If you were a dog, or a rodent, or something, they might be nice. But since you are human, they can’t stand the sight of you. You are one of them and they don’t want to be reminded. 

Eighteen Years Later...

April 24, 1978

     I concentrate upon a feeling, and let it take as much of my mind as it wants, and with the help of vivid memory from sixth grade down, reduce the emotion to thought. More and more, it seems I’m breaking away from high school hang-ups. When I think 1-2 thought from the hospital, I stand a good chance of never being bothered by the projecting feelings again.
     When the repression persists, it’s because sensations from high school arise, and block memory. I name these repressions, feelings of the hospital, and 1-2 thought from high school pops up. I remember these experiences as if they’re happening in the present moment. I see the emotions and relive experiences. When I do this, I’m cured from the specific emotions that were bothering me.
     I’ve been remembering childhood experiences from around four to five years of age, and linking the emotions to the hospital. Instead of dissipating stuck feelings from high school, I’ve been bypassing that, and going directly to the hospital. 1-2 thought from childhood is coming easily, and with it base thoughts from the hospital.
     Memories of the hospital mean more 1-2 thought, and more connections are needed. Memory means there is something blocking my mind from experiencing the base thoughts! I must link this memory with different experiences. Once doing so, sooner or later, as I scrape off excess emotions from different periods, the base thoughts come. It is inevitable that I be cured; no string is infinite.

     It’s not just any kind of memory that I’m looking for. It’s 1-2 thought, vivid memory! Memory of the hospital that isn’t 1-2 thought is 1-4 thought or higher. Memory of the test that isn’t vivid must be scrutinized. Is it 1-4, 1-8, 1-16, 1-32, or 1-64 thought?  From which view of the mountain does the memory come? Does the memory come from age five, eight, eleven, fourteen, or seventeen?  The difference between the thoughts, how one affects the other, must be seen. How I saw the trauma at age two influenced how I saw it at age five; how I saw the trauma at age five influenced how I saw it at age eight; how I saw the trauma at age eight influenced how I saw it at age eleven; how I saw the trauma at age eleven influenced how I saw it at age fourteen; and how I saw it at age fourteen influenced how I saw the trauma at age seventeen. The previous view influencing the latter created 1-4 thought. Once establishing this and seeing the equation in my mind, I concentrated upon all five 1-4 thought relationships, thoughts in the now, and vivid memory, and newer and more vivid memory of the hospital came to mind. Doing so constructively exercised my mind, and I moved closer to the mountain.

     Then the disciples came to Jesus privately and said, “Why could not we cast it out?” He said to them, “Because of your little faith; for amen I say to you, if you have faith like a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Remove from here’; and it will remove. And nothing will be impossible to you.” Mathew 17:18 to 17:19

April 25, 1978

     I’m in horrible pain. I remember the awful moments, but there are still mental blocks. One undissipated moment is when I saw my mother walk away, and thought she abandoned me. I’ve been walking around with those feelings in me. It’s horrible.

     I’m close to the inner core, the molten lava. 1-4 thought and higher cloud the memory. Until I identify the 1-4 thought, and apply 1-2 thought, the pain will torture me. I must identify the thoughts and memories that are blocking the 1-2 thought. Once doing so, I must simultaneously concentrate on the memory of the hospital, and the thoughts and memories clouding my thinking. This will produce 1-2 thought.


Nov. 5, 1978


     I once thought memory would come easily after a certain point, but nothing is coming easily. This process of being cured is a very slow one. In the mean time, my mind periodically sizzles.

     9:37 A.M. I’ve experienced some base thoughts from the test. The last base thoughts were produced about a month ago. The water is moving faster and faster. I’m feeling better. I haven’t dissipated everything, but perhaps I’ve turned the corner.


I’m at the boarder. I’m

passing from one state to

the next.

Go ahead, step through.

Put the book DOWN!

I can leave the room and

breath fresh air!

It’s been a rough rapid. The

waterfall is soon to approach.

It seems impossible that I can

step ashore, yet I do…

     As I walked upon the shores of my life, I understood that every disappointment was for a Divine purpose, and therefore an advantage, and my error in thought was not an error, but a blessing, for it fulfilled God’s purpose for me. 


     How could an adolescent have known more about overcoming Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, in the late 1970's, than a scientist? I had no human help and this wasn't faked. I believe I was born to overcome Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder as a sign from God! Will you deny it or open your mind to the truth? Read the message to the Muslims. 

The Message To The Muslims