I lived with PTSD for 40 years, after molestation by a Catholic priest at age five. Read my story as I write it here through 2015.

This is a True Story

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Monday, August 29, 2016

Looking for Mr. Good Bible update

the Presbyterian church half mile from where I live is starting a class "Sermon on the Mount" in mid-September through November, and I am going to go from the first Sunday to as long as I can...
I'm not going into the church itself for service after classes as they wear the same robes Catholics do, way too similar, but-
Doing Bible studies around town  so far has allowed me to meet people who think "Zionists run Hollywood" and who give way too much power to a book full of pages pressed out by old monks with an agenda. . . 
Looking forward to digging into the Sermon, but I'm pretty convinced Christ already came back, saw the abomination people are making of his word in his name and said, forget this place and left for another planet to try the experiment again. 
we are on our own
good morning 

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Since I was age six, the first time they tried to kill me in the dump truck incident*, everything in my life has been guided by angels.  So I'm going to these Bible studies even though I may be exposed to dogma that, even though I look at it objectively, could taint my truth.
I am also going to use those Bible studies as a way to meet people. So not giving up on the classes around town, still going to try the 12 week series on the Sermon that starts next week, just blocks from here.  Just accepting that this is happening at a much slower pace for me than it would for someone else. I have to keep canceling potential meeting situations because of this screwy job that I do in a room at home by myself communicating with no one.
I guess that's god’s will for me.
It's also true that if too many people find out who I am and about my blog, things will get really uncomfortable for me, like they did in the last two places where I lived.
I guess I should gleefully embrace this isolation
Which includes every member of my family even my daughter
I spend the free hours I have wandering around and am grateful I've moved to a town where there is a tourist-y area, called "Heavenly" no less, the area around the Gondola, where people who are total strangers all walk about in a crowd.
I fit right in. 



happy labor day weekend 

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