Alien Abduction – The Blog
How I Learned to Cope With High Strangeness, Government Harassment, and My Mother – By Chuck Weiss

The dead are at least at peace. They don’t feel pain anymore. They can’t be harassed, bullied or intimidated. They’ve left the building. I felt that peace when I stopped blogging many months ago and, to mix metaphors, I’ve been hesitant to stick my hand back in the fire. I’ve fought Majestic1 for seventeen years now, but when I stopped blogging they stopped their harassment and allowed me to forget for a while that I’m their “bitch on a leash.”

I’ve tried to come back before, but each time I did I would fall into a funk and retreat back to my favorite video game (Sid Meier’s “Civilization”) to waste inordinate amounts of time. I wasn’t getting anything done. Although many people fall into periods of depression from time to time, especially Abductee/Experiencers, I feel that many of my episodes are imposed on me by Majestic. And I recently got a confirmation of sorts that I’m right about that . . .

This is going to be an interesting exercise. It’s Tuesday evening and I’m trying to write tomorrow’s blog. The problem is that I feel like I’m drugged.

About a week or so before my book went to press in September of 2008, I was followed a helicopter on my way to work.

I had just picked the books up from the printer and was on my way to the UFO Expo, an annual convention held at the Marriott Hotel in Santa Clara, California. My friend Harold, also an Abductee/Experiencer, was with me. I brought him along to help me man the sales table I had rented, and to share in the excitement of debuting my book to the public.

Abducted by Aliens was published in September 2008. Much has happened since then. The High Strangeness has got stranger, and Majestic’s harassment has increased to a level that is sometimes hard to endure. In the next series of posts, I’ll bring the reader up to date.

For many, their Awakening is a shattering experience. It’s meant to be. Paradigms aren’t shifted easily. A paradigm is supposed to be something that you can rely on, like the ground under your feet. If it shifts unexpectedly, you can lose your balance and fall . . . .

There is an obvious question that every Abductee/Experiencer asks. When I first asked the question, it was because I was in awe to think that somehow I had attracted the attention of real-life Space Aliens. I naturally asked, “Why me?” . . . .

I was reluctant to write about this at first, but I know personally of three other Experiencers to whom this has happened, and I only know of one other person in UFOlogy who has ever written of her experience with this specialized form of psychological warfare . . . .

As I looked up, I saw a beautiful young woman in business attire, with long flowing blond hair, wearing big dark sunglasses and sitting about thirty feet or so in front of me. She kept staring in my direction . . . .

What I’m about to relate is an example of the hardcore psychological warfare that is sometimes waged against Experiencers. I think in my case it was also an example of the “red herring” type of harassment in which Majestic specializes . . . .

It takes some getting used to, being spied upon. The privacy that most Americans take for granted is routinely violated when it comes to Abductee/Experiencers, and our cases are never reviewed by the FISA Court. Paranoia is usually the first reaction and Majestic works hard to make sure that it is. Discovering that Big Brother is looking directly at you can be quite unsettling . . . .

There was another time when Majestic tried to lead me astray, in an attempt to hurt me financially . . . .

A favorite trick of Majestic’s is to do little things in such a way that you think it was the work of the ETs. Before I realized that I was the target of a government psychological warfare campaign, agents would enter my apartment late at night while I was asleep to do their mischief . . . .

On many occasions over the years, I would discover what looked like puncture marks on various parts of my body, including the backs of my legs and hands . . . If they were needle punctures, I don’t know who administrated the injections. It could have been the ETs or my human intruders, although I expect that both do inject me with something at various times for their own separate purposes . . .

To many, the thought of their being unseen controlling influences in our lives is only for the most paranoid, and unworthy of serious discussion. Many, probably the majority of people, are automatically dismissive of any topic labeled as a “conspiracy theory.” To them it’s easier to believe that the improbable happens because of coincidence, or even incompetence, rather than by design . . .

I haven’t done much for a very long while, except to try to focus on work and pay the bills on time. Most people do this easily every day of the week, but most people don’t have to also deal with paradigm shifts and government harassment on a continuing basis. After a while I found it easier (and safer) not tell my UFO stories, except to a small circle of friends who have learned to be patient with me. No more going to UFO conventions and networking with other Experiencers. There was less grief to be had if I laid low . . .

My girlfriend and I were deeply in love. We met through my UFO support group in 1997 and shared a willingness to explore the new reality in which we found ourselves, as well as to brave Majestic’s harassment together. I had told her earlier about the incident in the shower and Majestic’s attempt to unhinge me psychologically, but she still chose to be with me. I felt that at long last I had found someone with whom I could share my fantastic life. For the first time, in a long time, I was happy . . .

I was asleep when, all of a sudden, I couldn’t breathe through my nose. First everything was fine, then Wham! Both nostrils were completely blocked, forcing me to start breathing through my mouth. I tried to wake up, but felt restrained and couldn’t open my eyes. I then slipped into deep unconsciousness. When I did wake up, I felt like I was in some kind of altered state. My perception was distorted and I found it hard to focus my attention . . . I was shaken from the memory of the “attack” on me in my sleep and knew that something highly unusual had happened . . .