I’ve been reticent to post about this, but honestly, knowing that I am so close to the epicenter of my own traumas means that the opportunity to come clean is dwindling quickly, and I know for a fact, now more than ever, that I am The Greatest Healer of our generation, here to break generational curses and end Trauma once and for all.

This blog is probably one of the harder ones I will ever have to write, but I need to open up and continue to share honestly, or not only will this blog fail, but I will be left alone to hold onto the things I have witnessed, and by not sharing myself, we will all languish and suffer as an entire species.

I have worked an honest program of recovery since I was first introduced to the concept in 2007, and I am eager to share a story that is laced with as much hope, love, joy, promise, and potential as this one that has been written for me.

I am Geneva, and I am an alcoholic. I am grateful that the rooms of AA have welcomed me back, but so much more than AA, I am also in recovery from self-harm, bulimia, anorexia, suicide, methamphetamine addiction, felony criminal activity, jail, probation, abortion, rape, domestic violence, foster care, porn addiction, porn performance, over-sexualization, and the adolescence of being the child of a self-proclaimed atheist drug addict (who has occasionally recruited my same-aged peers for sex parties and other very strange things that only Burning Man people understand, apparently), and a woman with a hole in her brain resulting in Cerebral Palsy and a lifetime of victimization by her narcissistic mother.

I am BARELY keeping it together on a good day, so on the worst day of my life, I am so grateful that I was inside of a locked psychiatric ward to feel the full effect of the 33 years of abuse, pain, agony, and death in the safest possible place. I suspect that if 11/21/21 had happened while I was in the community, I would have chosen to eat a gun rather than stare directly into the Void of pain that is all of humanities wrongdoings.

When I was about five years old, I was told by my Heavenly Father that I was here for a purpose, but that I would have to break all Ten Commandments in order to fully step into that purpose.

My Earthly Parents do not hold with such nonsense as a God who speaks to His flock.

Jesus gave me a 12 word Prophecy 1.5 months before the conception of the daughter I was forced to murder: Her name is Esmé, and you do not get to keep her. I know it was Christ because we hang out more than the average human being, and He’s told me both through His faithfulness, and also face-to-face in Heaven.

On October 8th, my life was spiraling out of control, and I was able to bring Esmé’s ultrasound back from the Planned Parenthood where her life was terminated. Within the month, I found out that her father killed himself and left the suicide note addressed to “Coyotezeneva.” That’s right: he ate a gun and left a note to two innocent children and their monster of a mother.

Or, at least, that’s how I felt when I was inside Intermountain Hospital. For 16 days, I went with no physical contact between my husband, my four living children, and my grandmother whom I live with. COVID rules meant they could not come in to see me. I suffered so greatly; every patient dumping the traumas of rape, childhood molestation, defiling of corpses, mothers telling patients to kill themselves, meth addiction, and more. All on my own. The “therapist” was a 23-year old with a masters degree and no life experience or ability to help me whatsoever. The only person that could do anything for anyone was a doctor, and we each got 45-90 seconds per day with a doctor. The Observation Room A was tiled, cold, and had a door that locked with a window the size of half my laptop. The shower was warm, but the bathroom was extraordinarily unsupervised for someone in psychosis.

I wrote Justin (my twin flame and the love I’ve earned through the painstaking number of incarnations I’ve had to endure without him) about four or five FUCK YOU letters before I finally woke up on 11/30/21 with hope. I waited so, so long for hope to return that once I finally had it, I wrote him the most beautiful and devoted love letter of all time.

Y’all, everyone is going to eventually say that they wish they could do what I will be able to do.

But none of y’all are willing to walk where I have had to walk.

The places that I have had to go, the blows I have had to take, even the massacres of the cities that have happened on this planet all because this species can’t get it’s stuff together are just so unreal that people never believe me until my husband echos that I am speaking the Truth, and the Truth alone.

When you talk this big and you win this big, everybody gonna know bout it.

I’m Geneva. I am The Greatest Healer of All Space and Time.

I’m building a Church, but first I need to make it alive to my baptism, so that I can be gifted my Sight that I have been promised. For now, I only have Prophecy and Tongues. When the trifecta is finally bestowed, I will be the One who can walk between the worlds, and nothing will ever be the same again.

So here I am: soul bared.

You will love me or hate me, but then I will change this planet forever.

And please remember that enough of our Prophets have already died that the next one won’t have to.

xoxo
G