2004 Summer Tour of New York in Memoirs

Of Marcine "Niyawehnsie" Quenzer

Life is a journey from birth until death. What kind of journey it is becomes our individual truth.

HER STORY

Back in September of 1986, an encounter with a Satanist left me in serious peril. He called forth agents of Hell. He said that I must be pretty important as the head guy had sent his first General. The General offered to make me Mother of Nations of dark design where people became spare parts. It was creepy although just the foreshadowing of many of the robotic advancements that we now have for amputees. I did not like what I was shown and refused. A spiritual battle ensued, with me sending the General back without me. The encounter left me feeling spiritually raped, pillaged and sooooo stupid, I no longer trusted my own thoughts let alone my decisions. Unable to move in any direction, I continued to sink in depression not knowing where my five children were or how the bills were paid. I was afraid to answer the phone. My 12-year-old daughter reminded the kids to be quiet Mom was dying. A year later, voices urged me that I was taking up space. I was useless. I was worthless. Everyone would be better off without me. Selfishly, I needed my kids and I would not let go. Then from somewhere I heard, "No I am not. I AM a survivor. I can do this." I crawled out of bed. An altercation with my oldest son where he folded into fetal position and allowed me to pummel him, sent me into shameful retreat, as I jumped into my car, and drove to the mountains. I had to get a handle on me....