the bad nun & the Wewelsburg // part 2 of repressed memories of abuse

Do I really wanna do this? Searching for everyone's attention while I reconstruct my memory? Yes and no. Last time I didn't dare pushing Post and I have been hiding for three days now. Honestly: I want it as much as I don't want it. But if I rub it into my own face this openly, I will not get the chance to shy away, again. This is what I am most scared of. This is what I need to do. And we're not on facebook here. Let's do what we are most afraid of and share our stories. Our real stories! Thanks, everyone, for your kind comments under part one of my horrific memories. I can't tell you how encouraging this is. Yes, I need your attention. Most of all I need my own attention. But whoever is listening:

Thank you. Your comments make me feel loved!


Answers from my mother

about the Wewelsburg: I am not that certain. I deem you went there with your kindergarten. Or it was at elementary school. There was another weekend at the Wewelsburg. We went there with your kindergarten and the whole family. This is where we crafted those wooden animals you mentioned. I don't know your exact age. Maybe 5 or 6. If I ever picked you up from the Wewelsburg because you got sick? I unfortunatelly can't remember. It's possible.

It took me hours to even open her mail and read it. And it caused some new tears. Possibly I've been to Wewelsburg more than once. Maybe even more than twice. I know I have been there again when I was 14 years old. So for some reasons I have been to this castle a lot. My mother mentioned kindergarten and suddenly I remembered Frau Keller. Maybe that's not her name. Still, I don't know anything about this time, usually. Frau Keller was the bad nun. I can remember it hailed and the bad nun told us the devil would be running above the roof. She even hit me once. Something about my breakfast. I can't remember that one. This nun definitely left some impressions on me.

I don't know if she's got anything to do with what has happened to me but what I am certain about is this: Words that make me cry are Wewelsburg , Church & Kindergarten.

The Horrors of the Wewelsburg

Typing it just started a flood of tears. And if it wasn't for myself, one could start crying about this castle and never stop. What many people know is that it was a cult site for the SS, however what only a hand full knows: There are many accusations that there are still dark rituals taking place and it's infamously depicted in a German documentary about ritual abuse.

If you're interested, I transcripted & translated the part about the Wewelsburg. My experiences aren't necessarilly the same and in a way it's the opposite of helpful to know about this documentary. I need to know about my own memories and that horrific occasions like that are taking place at the Wewlsburg doesn't mean that was has happened to me is the same story. In fact, I doubt that a lot.

How my body reacts

Everything's coming out. I cried more tears than ever before. After the first session of crying I fell asleep and when I woke up, my right ear had produced a hell lot of earwax. I couldn't hear and had to flush my ears. I've never experienced something like that and I still need to flush it every day since then. My menstruation started one week too early and on the second day of my breakthrough I have been too the toilet more often than I even had the chance to eat. It's amazing how everything seems to be coming together. My whole system wants to get rid of soemthing.

confusing dreams

Donald Sutherland was lecturing me and others that all documentaries we have ever watched are in fact porn. He showed us some movies about nature on an old TV set and beneath the normal screen we were somehow able to see other pictures. It was like the movie was becoming transparent and behind it you could see other layers of subliminal messages. He wanted to convince us that every documentary that has ever been produced would be porn but I was getting extremly mad, screaming he would be lying. That actually every documentary seemed to be pedophile porn which I could clearly see. Even more confusing: I wasn't even seeing humans. I saw tree trunks penetrating caves and other surrealistic images. But I was 100% convinced that this subliminals messages were pedophile.

My father presents me his waste as if it would be a new car in front of his house. The garbage back is open and standing in his yard. He's hillariously proud of his trash and I try to comfort him about it. Yes, great, Papa! A bit later I'm inside and see the waste all over the yard and garden. Some crows are provokingly returning my look. I run to the corridor and take my father's rubber boots. Suddenly I'm half myself and half the girl I used to be. My legs dive into his big boots that reach to my thighs. "Be careful!" my dad warns me. I'm confused. I just want to collect his garbage. While I'm putting on the boots some hair floats into my face. It's the hair I had when I was around 5 years old.

continue reading part 3

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