A Message to Impact the World of Insanity. Part 1
Journal—An ongoing dialog between thia/Basilia and Master Yahuwah/Yahushua. …
Wednesday, October 19, 2016 at 1:31 pm
The year was 1962. I was expecting my second baby. I cannot remember for what reason I visited the Mental Health Clinic. But I distinctly remember the young social worker taking an account of the reason for my visit. I remember her words, “You need chemical therapy.” For whatever reason I did not consent to such therapy, perhaps out of not having a clue about what she was talking about.
The years came & went with strong and high waves of trouble that led me to my first divorce around 1969. At that time, I was a devout Catholic; in the Catholic Church in those days divorce was not allowed. If one went through a divorce one was forbidden to participate in the rituals of the Church. So, when I divorced my first husband I also divorced my Creator and all that had to do with my Creator.
In my Catholic mind, if the Church rejected me so did my Creator and I destined to hell fires. Thus I decided to fling away all decent moral principles and live it up! For nearly 3 years clad with the hoofs of rebellion I lived in the gutter of sinful living until such a living became so disgusting that I decided to pick myself up and start over again.
Eventually, I met the man that became my second husband. This union drove to me to mental insanity as per say. The pressure was so great that my mind snapped and I was taken to the mental hospital. The first breakdown. The beginning of the chemical therapy. The year was 1974.
Ten years went by along with a second divorce and a second mental breakdown in 1985. In spite of that breakdown, 1985 was the year of my deliverance. All of that is covered in detail in Overcoming Supernaturally.
This record is only a summary to give an account of my experience with the Mental Health Institution. From 1985 to 1995—10 yeas lapse. Electric shock treatments took place in that 1995. Five treatments. My mind at the point of annihilation. My oldest daughter to the rescue. She fired the Psychiatrist! Immediate transfer to a another institution to rehabilitate yours truly.
The year was 1995. Two or three weeks in rehab from electric shocks. Back home alone with my computer. A bunch of pills in the palm of my hand. My cry went on high, “Father, why You do not heal me?” His answer came clear, “My grace is sufficient unto you.” “If Your grace is sufficient unto me why do I have to take all of these pills?” Silence.