This article is part of a series of investigations into cultic dynamics in fringe groups.
The photons call out in desperation, for the body to pay attention.
Overcome the narcissist. I've got a free ticket for you.
Running my fingers over the scars, I close my eyes.
They will become entombed within the ancient earth and the wildflowers.
I'm putting life together piece by piece, repurposing what was once mine. I'm no longer the broken, frail girl I used to be.
To find your balance, master the art of gratitude.
This passage from my memoir "Cult Child" discusses a near-death experience I had when I was five years old.
One Year. 165 Hours. The Final Product.
Don’t store the detritus in your body. It will mire down your feet.
TRANCE: The Cathy O'Brien Story Review