They had to check me more often after my accidents in 1985 and 1987. During the time I was a student at Pepperdine University, I was more accessible to the Malibu and Point Mugu areas, and so, available to Reagan at a moment's notice in the Malibu area when he was in California. Occasionally Dr. West would slip into an examining room when the younger doctor was examining me. He explained that there were some things he wanted to see for himself. He was arrogant with the young doctors and very authoritarian. I heard him make condescending remarks about psychiatrists and clinical psychologists as being beneath his level of expertise, since he was an MD neuropsychiatrist. He thought my therapist in Westwood, Stuart Perlman, Ph.D. was uninformed and easily controlled in my therapy in 1988-91, since Stuart didn't consider the biochemical aspects of my case. I reported to NPI on an irregular basis when I was told to report and I took Kelly there when instructed. As my functioning level decreased when my early childhood memories began leaking back into my conscious mind, I was instructed to report more often to UCLA-NPI. They knew the chemical combinations to shut me down at night so that I couldn't access certain portions of my brain and memory during dream state, which I had begun to do. That was why they had me take halcyon with a glass of wine every night during my term of therapy with Stuart. Whatever this chemical combination was, the nurse told me to, "take 1/2 or 1/4 of a halcyon tablet followed immediately with a glass of wine, preferably white, and you'll notice immediate sleepiness and will fall into a very deep, peaceful sleep."
Then a doctor came back into the room after the nurse left, and said, "Repeat the directions to me." So I did and he said, "Exactly right. You're to follow these directions every day in every way in order to feel better. You will not, I repeat, you will not jump off of any building. You will not harm yourself in any way. Do you understand my directions?"
Eyes closed and listening intently to his instructions from a deep trance state, I nodded yes.
He said, "Fine, you may go home now."
And I got up, walked out of the hospital and all the way through the campus to my car that I parked near the library. When I drove past the stop sign on the freeway on-ramp it reminded me to "tuck this experience into the deepest recesses of your mind," and I returned home.
When the memory of events I was programmed to forget began flooding into my conscious awareness, I began responding by wanting to cut, burn myself or jump from the top of a high-rise building in Los Angeles. I just thought I must be really psychologically disturbed to want to do something like that. I simply could not fathom what was wrong with me and why these selfinjurious commands continually caused me to feel like compulsively hurting or killing myself. And I had no way of knowing that my controllers were not actually ready for me to do myself in, at least not until my assignments with them were completed.
There was a surgeon at UCLA who instructed me to drive to the hospital to have sex with him. He had dark hair, lightly dark skin, brown eyes and hairy arms. He was 6 tall, of good build and on the young side. I was instructed to meet him at the doctors' cafeteria. Usually he had on his surgery greens or blues and we would have lunch together. He was a vegetarian, and I watched him eat and later he had sex with me in a small bathroom in the Neuropsychiatric Institute. The bathrooms in the NPI were unisex and he would open the door, wave his hand for me to pass inside, and then he would quickly slip in behind me and whisper, "shhh," so I wouldn't say anything. He switched the light off and began feeling me all over and he usually preferred entering me from behind. As programmed, I smiled and laughed and acted pleased no matter what. He liked for me to give him oral sex in his red sports car, but not when the top was down. For programming purposes, he jingled keys in front of my face and then he'd take me out and sometimes we walked in Westwood or went to lunch in a back booth at The Bratskeller restaurant. He had a good laugh when I told him about my therapy with Stuart. He said, "Dressed in little shorts like that and looking innocent like you do, how do you think he can keep his mind on business?" I laughed and told him Stuart didn't understand. Truth was, Stuart wasn't sexually addicted.
This UCLA doctor took me to different rooms in the NPI for reconditioning and "tune-ups," he called them. One day he lifted me up on the examining table and I was giggling. He said they were taking real good care of me, keeping all my parts oiled and lubricated to keep me in good working condition. There were large tube-like machines that they put me into. When they closed the door, shutting me inside, it made a vacuumlike sound as it closed tightly and it kind of echoed inside. I lay on my back and there was a small square mirror, mounted over my face. I think it was suppose to make normal, regular customers feel safe or less claustrophobic. Although this doctor stayed with me during the horrible tests, he was kind to me most of the time. I didn't like the tests, but he told me what the doctors would do and when. One time two doctors used a scalpel and cut a small incision behind my right ear for something. I didn't know exactly what they were doing to me. They were always testing, probing and x-raying me. They must have a stack of records on me a mile high.
They put me into a machine that was like a cylinder that spun me. I saw lights, and color; blues, pinks, yellow, white, coupled with sound and electroshock. I watched and recorded in my photographic memory as the doctors in white coats mapped my forehead and face and attached wires to me. At this event there was a whole room of people sitting still like zombies, all with our heads totally mapped out. Each mind-controlled individual has code numbers that follow them no matter what research projects we were assigned to. They were studying our brains in all different contexts, in all different environments, with different stimulation. They were also studying the genetic effects. They studied a wide and varied range of the effect of environment and genes on a persons brain function, their life function, their longevity, and their productivity. They monitored brain function by reading EEG printouts taken from electrodes placed on my head, and registered and mapped lots of data that was inputted.
There were lots of times they laid me on a gurney and injected me with drugs, and then the doctors talked to me while I was under the influence. There were many doctors at UCLA who knew all about mind control and were well-trained for the technology of the future. They were told they were specially selected because of their intellectual abilities "to participate in an effort at world peace in the only method known to man." They were trained in the latest methods in how to program and operate under mind control. There were lots of doctors involved, different ones at different times in different places. I was "demonstrated and modeled" often over years for their learning, understanding, and financial benefit. There were demonstrations for doctors, scientists, prison officials, and other professionals who were selected to receive this top-secret mind control information.
Reagan was involved in this endeavor for years, ever since he was Governor and because he was cooperative and "went along with the program." Then in later years, as President, the amount of people who witnessed the demonstrations grew as the plan for the New World Order grew closer to implementation. Those who were brought in to see the mind control technology could never go back to not knowing. They needed an army of professionals to carry out the plan and the numbers of people involved increased dramatically in the 80's after Reagan and Bush got into office and cooperated to the fullest.
During Reagan's administrations the doctors at UCLA did tests and demonstrations in front of other doctors explaining how I worked, but they called this «studies» of the mind or brain. They didn't refer to any of it as mind control, but instead gave it the catchy name "behavior modification." They had a circular arena where they conducted the demonstrations while I laid on a table or sat in a chair naked, responding like a puppet to their cues. The demonstrations involved simple mind control techniques as well as telekinesis. Once the doctor directed me to bend a spoon across the room with the power of my mind. They told me to see the spoon bend in my mind and to focus solely on this thought to see it, and hear the words that played in my mind; then the spoon would bend and sometimes it would even move and fall off a table from across the room. Once I was programmed to hold out my hand with a key in it and with my mind I bent the key. I curled it all up while I held my palm and fingers still, my mind totally focused on the key. Most people have no idea the power a focused mind has. The doctors watching would gasp. They also programmed me to start a fire from across the room with my mind.