The story of my return

April 1st marks my rebirth: an escape from captivity to freedom, guided by spirit allies and a deep resilience. A journey from darkness to light.

April 1st is the anniversary of escaping from imprisonment. I had no clue I was going to leave. But my spirit guides were working with me in the dream state to prepare me for the journey. Part of the brainwashing was telling me that all the masters that I have loved so dearly hated me and wanted me destroyed.

So my spirit guides would come to me in a more subtle form and show me life beyond the one I was experiencing. I was shown my future apartment and my friend who helped me get home. And I knew I had a another dog in the future. I would have to leave my current dog, Shamus, behind. But Shamus understood. This time, when I walked away, he would let me go.

Shamus was torn because he loved me but he was treated like royalty by the captor who thought my dog was a personification of him. So I was not allowed to love my dog. I would get a heavy sigh from Shamus when I stole his dog food to stay alive. I am not certain if he felt bad for me or was bothered because I was taking from him. A couple days before I left, Shamus ran away to the neighbor. It was so strange that the captor said he was possessed by me. But I was told by my guides that he ran to get help for me. He was trying to save my life. He didn’t hate me. He still cared.

When I woke up that last morning, I was having bed spins. I wasn’t able to eat any more. The captor would only give me dry quinoa to eat. Eating it dry made me throw up so I was getting no food. I tried to soften it in water but it was still making me sick. When I woke up, I couldn’t take the morning walk around the property because I was having bed spins and blacking out. The captor was angry.

I got inspired to stuff my ID in my pants and put on my sneakers instead of my heavy work boots. The captor had my credit card but I had a starter check and thought that was my magic ticket home. When I could not go on the walk around the property, the captor locked me out of the house and I sat there outside and waited for him to return. The dog would not go with him. I sat there numb and terrified to leave. He had brainwashed me into thinking I would get debilitating Lyme disease if I left and get gang raped by construction workers. (I did have a bout with Lyme disease on the property and it was thankfully in the beginning when he regarded me enough to take me to get the first round of medicine. But not the second round of it so I wasn’t sure if it was gone or not.)

When he returned from the walk, he would not acknowledge me. I kept calling to him like a pathetic child (I thought I was a retarded boy at that time.) I kept calling to him in a child’s voice, “I am going then. I am going” I don’t know what I expected but he did not respond. I went down the long driveway to the road. The dog knew. Shamus knew he could not go with me and I would not have the strength to leave if he pulled on me. I did not say goodbye to him. I could not. I had to survive.

As I stepped out of the property, I had to remember the long trek to the store. It was exhilarating and terrifying to be off the property. I was looking on the ground for food. A man stopped and offered me a ride. I backed away like a terrified dog but asked him if he had any food. Someone else tried to stop. I was too weak and had no adrenaline. I took a wrong turn and there was a construction truck. I passed it before I realized my mistake. The men were walking towards their truck which was in my direction. I was certain they were going to gang rape me like the captor said but I was okay and got on the right route.

I walked four miles to the local grocery store and went in with my starter check to buy some food and make it out with enough money to get to the airport and buy a ticket home. I collected a bunch of food and when I got to the donuts, I couldn’t help myself. I ate one, then two. When I got to the cashier, they couldn’t cash my check. I had nothing and was screwed.

The manager let me call my friend in my hometown who hadn’t heard from me in almost the whole year I was gone. She thought I wrote her off and was heartbroken. When I called her she did not understand. I could not make her understand. She kept telling me to go back and put my foot down and tell him to treat me better. I was starving, exhausted and had no energy left to explain. I said to her with as much strength as I could, “If you don’t help me, I will die.”

She kept telling me that it couldn’t be done in a day. She did not understand that I had no options. It was a miracle she had the day off and that she was even home when I called. She ended up sending me some cash to get to the airport. I was lucky that they had a Western Union in the store. With the money, I bought a comb and I went in the bathroom and washed my face. I asked the manager for food. He came back with a frozen chocolate cream pie. I waited outside for a cab and dug into my frozen chocolate pie.

When I got to the airport, they wouldn’t let me use the credit card so I was stuck again. As terrified as I was about being around people, I had to call from the ticket line to get a ticket. I was paranoid and desperate and talked like I was developmentally challenged. They picked me out of the line to go through the X-ray. Maybe my snow pants and work jacket made me suspect. My ticket was a standby one. After I got through the line, I went to wait to see if I would make it.

I went to the bathroom and took off my work pants and threw them out. I took off one layer of clothes and was suddenly surprised by how skinny I was. I have never been that small before. When It was time to board, I kept looking up for my name. I was the fourth standby. I sat rocking back and forth under the prompter saying, “Please god, please. Oh please.” A man in a pilot jacket handed me a tissue, and a woman reassured me I would make it.

Everyone else boarded and then my name was called. I was walking to the plane alone, crying out loud sobbing the whole way. I was all clumsy and awkward and walking with my mouth open and my eyes all blurry. I made it into my seat and collapsed into heaving sobs. I could not stop. The stewardess came over to see if I was all right and I started begging her to not make me leave. I was terrified that she would make me leave.

The woman next to me got a little information from me and explained to the stewardess that I had just escaped abuse. She was very kind and interested in me, and it was a good distraction. She got me some juice from the stewardess and it bubbled my whole stomach up. It caused excruciating gas pains after not eating for months. My stomach had blown up like the starving children in the commercials.

When we landed, my friend did not recognize me. She kept squinting and could not believe that it was me. She was devastated at her own lack of understanding of the severity of my situation. She drove me to her home with no more fanfare than that. I have been spending the last several years coming to terms with how such an experience changes someone. It does. It was a wonderful experience to have in the rearview mirror.

Today is my rebirthday.

Jen Ward Avatar

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