My Story Ch 5: The Truth About Amina Allah, the Deity of Knowledge

A jinn of knowledge would arise from the act of seeking, manifesting through the powerful expression of art, music, poetry, literature, science, and mathematics of the universe. For instance, at the age of four, I remember seeing my first butterfly. I was fascinated by their shape and colors, especially the blue ones. As a result, by the age of six, I developed an interest in animals and asked my father if I could become a veterinarian when I grew up. However, I later discovered from TV that veterinarians often perform surgeries on animals, which upset me and made me cry. So, I told my father I no longer wished to be a veterinarian but wanted to become a scientist instead. Additionally, I have always done well in school, earning good grades and making the honor roll. Still, I felt unchallenged, as the homework was easy and completed very quickly.

My favorite subjects include history, reading, science, psychology, sociology, chemistry, and world mathematics. As a teenager, my mother kicked me out, and I couldn't finish high school because I needed a guardian to enroll me, which I didn't have. I then moved to Wisconsin, where I obtained my GED, daycare, and CNA certificate. I enjoy being around children because they bring me happiness. Additionally, I love caring for older people and listening to their historical stories, which fascinate me due to my interest in learning about my ancestors. Above all, I am captivated by their war stories. Later, I attended college for Medical Administrative Specialist while pregnant with my daughter Adrian.

Why My Sister, Just Why, My Baby Daddy

I invited my half-sister Billie and my nephew Anthony to stay in my apartment because they had no place to go. The following day, while I was attending college, my half-sister attempted to have an affair with my child's father, which led to the breakup of our family. Consequently, I had to leave college and end my relationship with him, only to discover that he was planning to propose to me, and she was aware of it all along. Among all the fathers of my children, he and Michael treated me the best.

I was Told I Was Crazy, Yet I Feel Like I'm Sane

Despite being labeled as mental and crazy, and being told there was nothing wrong with me, my health continued to deteriorate as I tried to work, preventing me from completing college. I experienced a variety of severe symptoms, including fainting from standing too long, walking short distances, and having constant seizures. These episodes were accompanied by excessive sweating, leaving me soaked and exhausted. My vital signs were dangerously unstable, fluctuating unpredictably, and I often experienced intense adrenaline rushes that left me both hyperactive and exhausted at the same time.

I also struggled with severe breathing issues, which added to my distress and made even simple tasks difficult. Despite the alarming and unusual nature of my symptoms, the medical professionals I saw were confused and unable to diagnose me accurately. Unlike Dr. Frucht, who later understood my condition, the doctors at UW and Dean Clinic misinterpreted my medical records, seemingly trying to conceal my diagnosis. This significant misunderstanding and mishandling of my medical history led to further brain damage, worsening my suffering.

My Vivid Memory and Desperation

I vividly remember the overwhelming desperation I felt as I approached Dr. Mosely, my heart racing with anxiety and hope. With urgency, I begged him to examine my medical records more closely, urging him to see the obvious discrepancies and the ongoing cover-up that had obscured my diagnosis for so long. I stressed the crucial need to revisit my medical history, especially the tumultuous period when I was 21 years old a time filled with confusion and frustration, when my real symptoms were dismissed as mere mental health issues, leaving me feeling invalidated and misunderstood.

During a period when I was desperately searching for answers, I was met with skepticism and misdiagnoses that only intensified my suffering. It wasn't until Dr. Mosely thoroughly investigated my case that I felt a profound sense of relief. He corrected my medical records, recognizing the numerous misinterpretations that had previously labeled my experiences as panic attacks, fibromyalgia, bipolar disorder, and dissociative identity disorder (DID). In truth, these episodes were far more complex and severe; they were manifestations of seizures, Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (POTS), Mast Cell Activation Syndrome (MCAS), and Anaphylaxis Diabetic Ketoacidosis (DKA). The weight of this revelation was immense, as I came to terms with the fact that these conditions had been minimized and obscured, leading to a cycle of misunderstanding and mistreatment that still endangers my life today. The ongoing battle for proper recognition and treatment has been a daunting journey.

Why Seek Treatment for A Gift from My Ancestors Called Manna

I often find myself in a difficult situation, where I stop pursuing treatment because of the overwhelming feeling of futility, knowing my body continuously battles these conditions without receiving the recognition they deserve. I've learned to live with the glucose in my body, which my ancestors referred to as the Jewish Diabetes Disease, comparing it to an eternal manna that keeps me full and energized. This constant presence of glucose acts as a crucial source of sustenance, providing the necessary fuel to manage my daily life.

Nonetheless, I remain keenly aware of the underlying issues that persist without proper medical care. Unchecked fluctuations in my blood sugar levels can lead to numerous complications that could cause significant long-term damage. These fluctuations are not just theoretical concerns; they manifest in tangible ways that can deeply affect my daily life. For example, unregulated blood sugar can lead to severe complications like neuropathy, retinopathy, and even cardiovascular diseases, all of which can drastically impact my quality of life.

I often contemplate the seriousness of these potential outcomes, especially when considering how they might affect my ability to fully enjoy life's simple pleasures, such as savoring food in the summertime or taking a walk. The idea of having to restrict my diet or avoid certain foods due to health issues is disheartening, particularly when the season offers so many vibrant and tempting culinary delights. The emotional burden of managing this condition can sometimes be overwhelming and debilitating.

I Remember That Moment

I recall times of despair, especially during the hot summer months when the sun invites outdoor gatherings and barbecues. I cried a lot due to this internal struggle, feeling disconnected from the joy others experienced. My ancestors, whose wisdom and strength I rely on, help me stay calm during these turbulent times. Their presence reminds me of resilience and the importance of perseverance. They communicate with me in profound and comforting ways, especially when I feel overwhelmed by my circumstances. I often remember a specific moment when I was on the verge of giving up, when darkness seemed all-consuming. It was then that I heard those seven words echoing in my mind: "You can't be seen, touched, or looked upon." These words, which hold special significance for me, served as a lifeline, pulling me back from the brink of despair. Maintaining this delicate balance requires constant vigilance and a proactive approach to managing my condition.

It's not just about taking medication or following a diet; it involves a comprehensive approach that includes regular blood sugar monitoring, understanding how different foods affect my body, and effectively managing stress. Each day brings its own challenges, and I've learned to navigate them with a renewed sense of purpose and determination. I recognize that my health is a precious gift, one I must protect with vigilance and care. This journey has taught me invaluable lessons about self-discipline, the importance of seeking support from loved ones, and the need to stay informed about my health. I am dedicated to taking control of my well-being, ensuring that I not only survive but thrive despite the obstacles I face.

Some Might Think Other Wise but I Say Manna is My Everlasting Food

To some, these mast cells might initially seem like a mere burden, an unwelcome part of my physiology complicating my daily life with discomfort and unpredictability. However, after deep reflection and understanding, I've come to see them as my superpower, a remarkable gift from my ancestors, acting as a vigilant protector against harm. This perspective is rooted in the belief that humans are intricately connected to their biological heritage, as articulated in various texts, including the Quran, which suggests that our very being is derived from a blood clot.

This metaphorical connection underscores the intricate and miraculous nature of human life, highlighting how we are formed from the essence of survival and resilience. Moreover, realizing that I might have been misinterpreting these teachings for a long time filled me with profound frustration and anger. I felt misled, especially when I discovered that certain religious texts, particularly those of Christianity, had appropriated and altered the words and teachings originally part of my own cultural and spiritual heritage in the Quran. This revelation was so intense that it drove me to take drastic action, leading me to discard all Christian texts, especially the Bible, in a fit of rage and disappointment.

Amidst my journey of self-discovery and cultural reclamation, I've developed an appreciation for the crucial role mast cells play in my immune system. Often misunderstood, these cells are not just a nuisance; they are a vital part of my being, profoundly influencing my survival. Mast cells act as sentinels, vigilantly scanning for potential threats in my environment. When they sense danger, they spring into action, releasing histamines, leukotrienes, prostaglandins, and other chemicals to alert my body. This response is not merely reactive; it is part of a sophisticated system designed to protect me. The release of these chemicals triggers a cascade of physiological responses, including inflammation, which is essential for healing and defense.

Subsequently, I experience seizures that inspire me to create music, poetry, literature, philosophy, medical insights, science, and knowledge akin to the Prophets and Apostles, which I consider my ultimate superpower. This is why mast cells are not passive in my immune response; they actively engage with the environment, orchestrating a complex defense strategy vital for my well-being. Through this perspective, I see my mast cells not just as biological entities but as integral to my identity and resilience, embodying the spirit of survival passed down through generations from Noah, my kin.

The Act of the Watchers

This event stemmed from the watchers, celestial beings, forming unions with earthly women, which led them to wander the desert for 40 years. My ancestors endured a significant and lasting struggle, rich in both mythological meaning and harsh reality. These celestial beings, who descended from the heavens, formed relationships with earthly women, setting off a series of events that changed history for many and caused much harm. This union, a mix of divine and human, brought about a significant consequence: a long period of wandering in the harsh desert, symbolizing spiritual and moral transgressions. This act was meant to remain unspoken, as the watchers were fair and white, while the women were black and beautiful. Audience, does this sound familiar to you? Amen. This led to devastation and confusion for everyone, including myself.

As my ancestors traveled through this barren landscape, they suffered numerous afflictions that intensified their hardship. Among these were devastating diseases that ravaged their bodies, leaving them weak and vulnerable. These illnesses were not just physical ailments; they symbolized the culmination of their trials, reflecting the struggles they faced in an often merciless world. The harsh realities of poverty hovered over them like a dark cloud, limiting their ability to thrive and trapping them in a cycle of despair and hopelessness.

Besides the common diseases they faced, my ancestors were afflicted by a very rare condition known as Hypermobility EDS, which seemed to arise from their struggles and sins. This mysterious ailment not only physically debilitated them but also served as a haunting reminder of their past transgressions involving the mixing of DNA with earth dwellers. The rarity of this disease added to its stigma, further isolating them within their communities and intensifying their sense of alienation.

The relentless hold of this disease impacted not only their physical health but also significantly affected their mental and emotional well-being. Their suffering manifested in various ways, including anxiety, depression, and a pervasive sense of loss due to so many dying from cancer. In this context, the legacy of the watchers and the subsequent wanderings of my ancestors can be seen as a metaphor for the human condition itself—characterized by trials, tribulations, and an unyielding quest for redemption and healing amidst life's chaos.

Poverty cast a significant shadow over their lives, worsening their health issues and restricting their access to adequate medical care and support systems. Their daily life was a testament to resilience against overwhelming odds, as they managed the complexities of their conditions while striving to maintain a sense of hope and normalcy. Each generation carried the scars of these experiences, creating a legacy of both physical and psychological challenges that resonated through the years.

In this context, the idea of sin can be seen not only in a spiritual sense but also as a reflection of the societal and systemic failures that contributed to their hardships. The connection between health and morality became apparent as they dealt with the consequences of their circumstances, often questioning the fairness of their suffering. Thus, the story of my ancestors is not just one of affliction but also of endurance, a poignant reminder of the complexities of human experience and the enduring spirit that strives to overcome adversity, even when faced with the most daunting challenges and tribulations.

For example, if something endangers me whether it's a food allergen or an environmental trigger my body responds almost instinctively, similar to how a magnetic field repels harmful elements. This extraordinary mechanism enables me to navigate the world with increased awareness and protection. It's fascinating to consider how this biological response has evolved to act as a safeguard, ensuring I stay alert to potential threats as I am needed here on Earth. Viewed this way, my mast cells are not merely a challenge to manage; they are a crucial part of my identity, enhancing my resilience and adaptability in an often-unpredictable world.

Navigating the Complexities

Therefore, I continue to manage the complexities of my health with purpose and determination, recognizing that my unique physiological traits are not just obstacles but tools that support my survival and improve my quality of life. Hearing this insight from Dr. Mosely was more than just enlightening; it was a profound experience, akin to journeying through hell and back, only to emerge with newfound hope and understanding of my condition. It marked a turning point that reignited my resolve to uncover the truth about my health.

In 2005, another significant moment occurred when Dr. Frucht offered clarity about the febrile seizures affecting both me and my children. His insights were illuminating, yet it was disheartening to realize that these essential details were missing from our medical records. This oversight, initially perceived as a minor communication lapse, led to a series of unnecessary treatments and numerous doctor visits that could have been easily avoided. Each appointment became a frustrating ordeal as I navigated through conflicting opinions and misdiagnoses. The emotional impact of these experiences was profound, resulting in a decade of confusion and hardship that could have been greatly reduced with proper documentation and a clearer understanding of my medical history.

The absence of precise medical records not only made the diagnostic process more difficult but also led to a cycle of trial and error in treatment. I experienced various medications and therapies that offered little to no improvement, each one further depleting my resources and energy. This ongoing struggle impacted my physical health and also took a toll on my mental well-being, as the constant uncertainty about my condition weighed heavily on my mind, especially when I was prescribed unnecessary mental health medications.

Reflecting on this journey toward an accurate diagnosis, particularly for individuals of African Jew descent, I recognize that the challenges are complex. Cultural differences, systemic biases in healthcare, and a general lack of awareness about specific health issues common in African communities often complicate the path to effective treatment. The journey continues, marked by an ongoing quest for clarity and resolution.

The Obstacle Faced Yet in Today Society

Despite the challenges encountered along the way, I remain firm in my conviction that truth and understanding will ultimately triumph. Every step I take, whether advocating for improved healthcare practices or seeking knowledgeable professionals who respect and understand the unique challenges faced by African American Jews, brings me closer to that goal. I hold onto the hope that with increased awareness and education, we can create a future where individuals receive the care they deserve, free from the burdens of unnecessary treatments and misdiagnoses. It is a journey filled with trials, yet also one of resilience and hope, as I continue to strive for a clearer understanding of my health and the health of many others in similar situations.

I had always known that I was experiencing seizures, but no one ever informed me of their specific type or believed me. I was denied medication to help manage them and left to navigate the chaos of my condition on my own. I began to connect the dots, realizing that my seizures were often triggered by environmental factors such as exposure to sunlight, extreme heat, bright lights, and elevated stress levels, including emotions like anger, sadness, happiness, fear, and witnessing harm to humans or animals. My emotions for this world are draining, yet I know it's due to sin, and I need to save my kin from the strife.

This realization made sense, particularly since seizures can be exacerbated by sensitivity to light. Similar to Ezekiel and the Apostles, I undergo religious seizures during trance writing, which I will discuss further in an upcoming lesson. I've dealt with light sensitivity for years without a clear diagnosis, frequently having to wear sunglasses. Often, I'm stuck at home, asking the Lord, "Why me?" My medical journey has been fraught with challenges, misunderstandings, and a longing for proper acknowledgment and treatment of my condition.

Afterward, I continued to cry out to Allah, contemplating suicide due to the overwhelming pain and symptoms, particularly my inability to control my temperature or vitals around the clock. Consequently, I began to hear the same words repeatedly and experienced the same vision until I followed the guidance given by Muhammad, Allah, the prophets, and the spirits. For example, I was instructed to attend college and assured that I could manage it on my own; I was encouraged to remain strong a bit longer. I repeatedly envisioned myself in college wearing a lab coat, seeing this vision over twenty times before enrolling in the Biotechnology Laboratory Technician program at Madison Area Technical College. I also heard whispers of Psalms and saw an image of the number 69 and a depiction of Pegasus, the white horse, my favorite horse. I adore Pegasus.

Deep down, I knew I was too ill to attend school, yet I found myself in a world insisting on my presence, as if my physical condition could be ignored or overcome by sheer determination. It puzzled me that anyone could encourage me to go to classes when it was painfully obvious that I was broken, both physically and spiritually. I ended up sitting in class, feeling utterly miserable, struggling with my reality while trying to appear just like everyone else.

I put on a facade of normalcy, even as I struggled to hold back tears that could easily overflow with the slightest trigger. The embarrassment was immense; I was young, beautiful, vibrant, yet I depended on a cane to help me navigate a world that seemed to move forward without me. My heart was a blend of intense emotions soaked in feelings of revenge against those who had wronged me, yet longing for the freedom to live without pain and restrictions.

Hardens My Heart and Soul Just Like My Ancestors

In conclusion, this loss has hardened my heart like stone, forming a barrier between me and the U.S. that I once loved. Now, my thoughts turn to my family heritage—the Ashkenazi Jews, Igbo, and EDO tribe—who love and praise me. I feel as though the U.S. has taken my life, education, childhood, dreams, knowledge, memories, body, and all my hopes of making the world a better place, even a piece of my soul. Everything that defined me seemed to vanish instantly, leaving only emptiness and a thirst for retribution. As I reflect on all that has been taken, how I was drained of my blood by the unrighteous, it seems only fair that I righteously drain you of your blood to; my ancestors said it's the only righteous.

I understand that what remains is a longing for justice. It's not just about being drained of all my blood and life force by an endless battle with sin, for I know I will be reborn and return 20 times stronger than before. I simply want the U.S. to acknowledge the pain and despair inflicted upon me by those who showed no mercy to me or my kin. They should be held accountable for their wicked crimes and face jail time; this is what I desire for all of my kin. They underestimated the strength within me, the resilience that has allowed me to endure trials and tribulations without succumbing to deceit.

They assumed that as a young African American girl in poverty, I was ignorant and tried to exploit that. But they chose the wrong African American Jew, as I am from the world's smartest tribes, Ashkenazi Jewish descent, Igbo and Edo. I am not merely a victim of circumstance; I am a survivor, and I will not rest until I confront those who have caused suffering to me and my kin on our land. I am determined to rise from my past, reclaim my story, and assert my rightful place in this world, just like Malcolm X.

In Conclusions

A jinn of knowledge manifests through art, music, poetry, literature, science, and mathematics. My childhood dream of becoming a veterinarian shifted to science due to the reality of surgeries. Despite excelling in school, I felt unchallenged. After my mother kicked me out, I moved to Wisconsin, earned my GED, and embraced caring for children and the elderly, driven by my interest in history and ancestors. My life changed when my half-sister's betrayal led to my family's breakup. Labeled mentally unstable, my health deteriorated with severe symptoms. Only Dr. Mosely diagnosed my true conditions: seizures, POTS, MCAS, and Anaphylaxis DKA. This revelation was both a relief and a reminder of the struggle for proper treatment.

I view my health conditions as a gift from my ancestors, teaching me resilience and the importance of managing my health. My mast cells, once burdensome, are now my superpower, a legacy ensuring my survival. My ancestors' story, marked by trials and the watchers' union with earthly women, symbolizes the human condition—struggles, redemption, and resilience. Their legacy includes Hypermobility EDS, a reminder of past transgressions and the enduring spirit to overcome adversity. Navigating healthcare challenges as an African Jew is complex, but I remain hopeful for better understanding and care. The journey is filled with trials yet also resilience and hope. Despite the U.S. taking much from me, I draw strength from my heritage and ancestors, determined to rise and reclaim my right5ful place on the throne.