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.
Running my fingers over the scars, I close my eyes.
They will become entombed within the ancient earth and the wildflowers.
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.
your own truth can drive you mad
Art is the best place to bury truth, pain and healing.
Sometime I speak to other ex-Move of god cult members, and I know things I don’t know how to approach; like their parent being a pedophile. I listen to their pain, and what affected them, and the more I listen, the more I understand how deeply dissecting mind control is. There is a different perspective … Continue reading I Don’t Know How To Tell You