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Take Heart! If there is hope for there is for white people.

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WhiteWill

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Take Heart! If there is hope for there is for white people.

PostMon Nov 16, 2015 11:41 am

I post this here to give you encouragement. If it is in the wrong place please move it.

My Reawakening: The Confessions of a Sick White Man

There was a time before when I was awake and clear headed. I knew who I was, that I was responsible for myself and for making the world a better place for myself and my white racial brethren. I was a young adult when Dr. Pierce died and was a unit coordinator in the Mid-West. I was around 21. I was reasonably physically fit, had a job, nice clothes, but more importantly I was a part of something bigger than myself and was active in the struggle against the rot and decay of multiculturalism. I had been identified as being in the top 0.1% of people in the U.S. in terms of intelligence. In short, I was healthy physically, morally, and racially. I was a leader and knew my place.

Then, Dr. Pierce died and I watched as the Alliance was destroyed. Perhaps I should take responsibility for not sacrificing myself and arranged for a meeting with the vermin who did it and put a bullet in it and then took one myself rather than subject myself to the government’s dungeons. I would have at least accomplished more than I have in the now almost twenty years. That’s water under the bridge though and we can’t live in the past, only learn from it. I resigned before the last vestiges of The Alliance were destroyed. I was disillusioned to say the least. I was lost and adrift in this sea of filth which is America.

What began is what I can only describe as my journey into becoming a part of the sickness. The first thing that went wrong was that I was hopeless as to the ability to save my people, and there was no longer anything restraining my anger and disgust. Every time I saw some sick white woman holding hands with a negro, or some brainwashed white boy in hip-hop clothes with his pants down past his crack, I fumed with anger. Then as I watched the endless attempts to disarm me I felt like I was going to snap. I felt like I had to do something, but without the Alliance there was no hope of lasting success. I could only go down in a blaze of glory by blowing myself and some government building to kingdom come and I knew that was actually counterproductive.

I made the mistake of going to a doctor and telling him how I felt. I should have known better, but it was necessary for my survival. He prescribed anti-anxiety medications and anti-depressants and things suddenly appeared better. Actually it is more precise to say I stopped caring. I knew the world was upside down, but it didn’t bother me. I didn’t notice when certain aspects of my personality changed. I was more indulgent, less apt to put off instant reward for a future good, I also started becoming lazy.

Being young, still physically fit, and reasonably handsome with what looked like a promising future I was able to attract women. At the time I was still an Alpha male and women like that. One of the side effects of those happy pills is that you really don’t feel emotion. The truth isn’t that they make you feel better, it is that they stop making you feel at all. The consequences were that I never developed an emotional attachment to one woman and just changed one for another like a normal person would socks, and having no long-term mate I chose never to father any children. Soon though as youth faded and over indulgence in food and drink, combined with laziness got the better of me, I stopped attracting attractive females. I simply found other pursuits to divert my attention from the fact the world was on self-destruct mode. Deep down inside though on a subconscious level I still knew who I was and what was wrong, but I kept brainwashing myself that all would be alright. Perhaps it was this internal struggle that gave rise to a new problem--serial migraine headaches. Every day I was debilitated. Never fear though, one need not lead a physically, morally, and racially health life when medical science has pills. The same doctor I was seeing for the anti-depressants and anxiety pills said he had the cure. I was handed a prescription for a drug called Depakote. It’s a medication that’s used to treat everything from epileptic seizures to bipolar disorder, but it also had the property of stopping migraine headaches from ever starting. What he didn’t tell me was that they would make me feel like a zombie, make me feel dull and dumb, and cause me to put on so much weight it was beyond belief, and he sure didn’t tell me there would be horrific withdrawal symptoms should I ever dare to stop taking them.

That’s how I entered the accelerated decay. The pills were already making me feel lazy anyway and when I weighed in at a shocking 350 pounds, the weight took a toll on my knees, back, and joints in general. It was also discovered I had runaway diabetes. It somehow didn’t scare me when they told me that I didn’t have type II diabetes just from being fat, but had developed what is called secondary diabetes. Secondary diabetes is caused by drugs like Depakote and the steroids I had been on for back pain. There was a pill for that and I would be OK. My real undoing was when the doctor said, “WhiteWill, you are far too sick to work. I know an attorney who will help you get disability.” Of course the poison had long since buried that part of me which hated leeches and I didn’t even realize what he was proposing. It was true it hurt to get up out of bed early in the morning and do hard physical labor, which at this point was all I was fit for even though I had a university degree. I was too absent minded and stoned to be trusted to do anything which required conscious thought or rational decision making. The sad part was I didn’t know this and my emotions had been killed, so I couldn’t even want a better job. I sheepishly agreed to what he was proposing. So I quit my job and stopped getting what little exercise I was getting.

At my disability hearing the nice Jewish attorney spun a tale of heartache and woe to the administrative law judge from my medical and psychological records so that I scarcely recognized that I was the person being talked about. I learned that I was withdrawn, in horrific pain, that I had “flat effect,” and that I had horrific daily migraines that rendered me unable to work. That last part caused a little twinge of conscious to stir. I hadn’t had a migraine since I went on the Depakote. I was going to tell the judge that was a mistake, but the judge, a kindly negro who of course had the nation’s best interest at heart, never even called on me, or asked me if that was true. He announced I would have his decision in ninety days and dismissed me. Ninety days latter a letter came in the mail that said I was disabled and would be getting a monthly check, plus a nice hefty sum of back money that had accumulated as my case wormed its way through the system. Of course the nice Jewish attorney got a 30% cut of that plus his expenses, which when added up came to a shocking amount. And so I nuzzled up to the system’s tit and began sucking.

I won’t bore you with the intervening years in great detail, but let us just say I now found a vested interest in keeping this great welfare state going. I settled into watching endless hours of TV, surfing the web, and playing a game called Nationstates where a lot of young people from across the world meet on forums and simulate governments. Eventually I lost all hope and resigned myself that I was just waiting to die and just killing time in the mean time, and so the years rolled by.

Then the extraordinary happened. If there is a creator of the universe perhaps he was giving me one last chance. I saw footage of the “refugees” streaming into Europe and I remembered something, something that had been buried and strangled long ago. I remembered in a book I had read published by National Vanguard Books that predicted a wave of non-white migration into Europe, and for the first time in years I was uncomfortable. You know it is a good thing to feel uncomfortable at times. I remembered that I used to feel emotions; I used to care; Europe and its people, my people, used to mean something to me. Then I remembered there was a time when I wasn’t sick, a time when my life had purpose, a time when I felt happy, sad, and was responsible for myself and that gave me great pride and I remembered that feeling of pride and how good it made me feel. I can’t say as I felt I was threatened by this invasion or that I was angry about it, but I remembered that I should be.

Within a day or two of cloudy thinking and searching my memories of when exactly did I stop caring, feeling, and exercising my will in the days before I dropped out of society, I realized in a moment of semi-clarity it was when I started taking the pills. I knew I had to get off them and get my act together.

I researched on the internet what I could expect when I quit taking them. Now, a couple of times I had ran without for a day or two for one reason or another and I knew what I was in for wasn’t pleasant. What I found scared the living daylights out of me. In addition to the terrible physical effects of withdrawing from them, I found that my brain was going to go haywire when this chemical soup was removed. I learned the human brain actually alters its chemical receptors when subjected to these powerful drugs for as long as I had had them pumped into my system. I knew I was in for a hell of a ride but things had to change. I had to reconnect with what I had been. I threw away the Depakote, anxiety medications, and antidepressants.

What followed was a living hell on earth. I will spare you and myself the recounting of what happened as my body and mind were subjected to withdraw of these powerful chemicals. I will just touch on a few to give you an idea. I started off being hot and cold at the same time. My whole body throbbed with pain. Every time I moved ever so slightly it felt like electric shocks were shooting through my body. That was just the prelude to the real horror. As I lay in the bed my mind raced along with thoughts which ran at break-neck speeds which were in no way rational. Emotions washed over me and changed in seconds. Once second I was laughing at something I thought of and the next I was convinced the best thing I could do was put a bullet in my brain. I only wish I had marked on the calendar the date I threw the “medication” away because I honestly don’t know how long all of this lasted. I think it was somewhere around ten days. I awoke one morning and just knew that my mind was calm and peaceful and I took a deep breath and realized I had rejoined the living, thinking population. I took a shower. Somewhere along the way I went so insane I couldn’t even do that. A sudden realization occurred to me—I was actually feeling emotion. It felt good, right, and made me happy to be clean. I was weak; I hadn’t eaten in several days. I managed some corn flakes and orange juice and again I noticed I was enjoying something. Over the next few days I took stock of my house and realized it was a mess and cleaned it up. I joined a gym and started doing exercise daily. I am so out of shape it’s really tough but I am pushing myself. I threw away the Ho-Ho’s, chips, pop, and the rest of the junk food that has composed my diet for these many years. I stopped smoking. In short, I am taking responsibility for my body. It feels good to be responsible.

It really started hitting home how much the world has changed since I began the chemical induced sleepwalk of a life I was leading. It started mattering to me that they had built a public housing high rise just down from me on what was my little white suburban street. I got in touch with that good righteous anger at the enemies of my people who are spreading moral rot and decay among us. And then it dawned on me what had happened to me. How I had been doped into become a slime ball leech and how this is happening to hundreds of thousands of people like me so big pharma can collect their gross profits without regard not just what they are doing to individual lives, but our people as a whole. If you think what happened to me is rare, consider the tens of thousands, if not hundreds of thousands of our people who have been put on psychiatric drugs because deep down they know something is wrong and they are dissatisfied with life, not because they are truly mentally ill. Look what happened when highly addictive pain pills were dumped in massive quantities all across the nation, but especially in Appalachia where life is brutal and short and it’s easy to want to find an escape from your troubles. When it was finally exposed what big pharma was doing with their narcotics and controls were tightened, did big pharma spend any money to clean up the problem of all the addicts it had created? No, it turned them over to the wolves who would give them heroin. That’s just fine in their book. Heroin addiction spreads HIV/AIDS, and of course if they get that they have customers for drug cocktails to slow the inevitable for around twenty years. It’s good ol’ American capitalism at work.
My reason for writing all this is twofold. The first, I’ll admit, is slightly self-centered. It was a catharsis and a way to get the concrete plans for myself in print so I will be all the more dedicated to seeing them through. Thanks to what my family and National Alliance instilled in me long ago I have found the courage to rise from the ashes which is, I am forced to admit, a drug addiction that was just as bad as if I had stuck a syringe in my arm and pushed the plunger and shot the poison in my veins. I can give all the excuses in the world. I was young and trusted psychiatrists too much, as my undergraduate degree was in psychology; nevertheless, there were times when I had moments of clarity when alarm bells were ringing and I did nothing. I will go to that gym every single day until I have whipped my body into shape enough to do something productive and I will get a job and extricate myself from the government tit. No job will be beneath me. I will be responsible for myself because that is what healthy white people do, and as soon as I am both self-sufficient and no longer am a huge fat slob who looks like he is good for nothing but to render into soap I will join you in this struggle in a formal way. Please do not misunderstand me; Dr. Pierce was right in that you are not going to find converts in addicts and societal dropouts. My only saving grace was that I had been awake and had known what healthy was at one time. I also like to think I come from good stock and am smarter than your average bear. In my case even if most people were to realize what was being done to them they would not have endured the hell which was coming off chemicals. They would have downed them like candy just to ease the mental pain.

The second reason I write is to give you heart. All across Europe people are being confronted with swarms of brutal savages pouring into their communities, demanding food, money, women, property, and that white people conform to their standards of living. Those Europeans are starting to feel fear, worry, and general discomfort. No amount of drugs in the form of Reality TV shows, popular music, or Jewish propaganda news programs are going to suppress those emotions. The Jews and their Liberal lap dogs have rushed too soon into their attempt to deliver their final blow to the white homeland. If they had only waited a few generations their chances would have been much better. My story is the story of white people everywhere. I will illustrate a case to make my point. Earlier I mentioned through my aimless walk these last twenty years I got entangled with a game called Nationstates. It is something that attracts the more politically minded people from around the world. On one of its forums a young man opened a post about the refugee invasion. He tried to stay within the boundaries of what he thought he could get away with without being labeled a racist. He spoke of threats to culture, Christendom, and Western Civilization. He noted how both the Left and the Right seemed unwilling to stop the flow. A few others joined in and it was clear they were frightened and were asking questions. Of course this was soon noticed and the alarm was sounded and hundreds of shouts of racism appeared on the thread. A funny thing happened though—more people stepped forward to say something was wrong, many of which I knew to be thoroughly indoctrinated and sick. I identified the key players in the conversation, the ones who seemed to steer it, ask questions that begged answers, and who the other people seemed to be looking to. I sent them private messages with links to a couple of places like Natvan.com where they would be confronted with the ugly truth. A few were very fast studies to say the least and dropped the list of PC words in about a day and were no longer afraid of the word racist. More still are listening to them. They’re still sick of course. They are still dependent on their nanny states. I know that in time they will, like me, start exercising their will, doing what needs to be done, and they will soon be a force to be reckoned with. The multiculturalists have awoken the hibernating bear. It’s still in a stupor; it’s still queasy; it’s still too weak to fight, but it knows there are strangers in its den that have come to do it harm and it’s alarmed. It isn’t going back to sleep.
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Will Williams

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Re: Take Heart! If there is hope for there is for white peo

PostMon Nov 16, 2015 12:40 pm

WhiteWill wrote:My Reawakening: The Confessions of a Sick White Man
[...]
Thanks to what my family and National Alliance instilled in me long ago I have found the courage to rise from the ashes which is, I am forced to admit, a drug addiction that was just as bad as if I had stuck a syringe in my arm and pushed the plunger and shot the poison in my veins. I can give all the excuses in the world. I was young and trusted psychiatrists too much, as my undergraduate degree was in psychology; nevertheless, there were times when I had moments of clarity when alarm bells were ringing and I did nothing. I will go to that gym every single day until I have whipped my body into shape enough to do something productive and I will get a job and extricate myself from the government tit. No job will be beneath me. I will be responsible for myself because that is what healthy white people do, and as soon as I am both self-sufficient and no longer am a huge fat slob who looks like he is good for nothing but to render into soap I will join you in this struggle in a formal way. Please do not misunderstand me; Dr. Pierce was right in that you are not going to find converts in addicts and societal dropouts. My only saving grace was that I had been awake and had known what healthy was at one time. I also like to think I come from good stock and am smarter than your average bear.

Yes, WhiteWill, you are smarter than the average bear, and your story is riveting. The National Alliance will welcome you back whenever you feel you are ready again. Recovered addicts are eligible for NA membership. We do not have room for those with active addictions to hard drugs. You may possibly help some of them by relating your own experience to hell and back. They, like you, need a purpose in life. I'm glad you refound yours. Welcome to White Biocentrism, WhiteWill.

BTW, don't send folks to natavan.com; send them to natall.com. We'll get natvan.com back up and running properly when it is time for that.
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Jim Mathias

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Re: Take Heart! If there is hope for there is for white peo

PostWed Jul 20, 2016 7:22 pm

If you're still in the Midwest Whitewill, let me know, it's possible we can do fellowship when in your area. I travel all over the place attending gun shows and doing what I can to open people's eyes to the program of the National Alliance and the basis upon which it was created: Cosmotheism.

Many of us are already awakened, but there is much to do as well! While the NA has had its ups and downs, I never lost being a White man who must engage people with our message so I think there we have common ground.
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JoeofKek

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Re: Take Heart! If there is hope for there is for white peo

PostSat Sep 24, 2016 5:59 am

It's good that you can have that hope. I cannot. It is beyond me. Even if there is hope for white people, that just makes me feel worse because it still means there is no hope for me personally. (I know. That's terrible, but what else is there?)

Given that our enemies are willing to destroy the entire world in Nuclear Fire to make sure we do not have a chance to win, why do you think that they would not enact a plan to ensure that? So long as Samson Looms, any hope we have is a false hope.
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Will Williams

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Re: Take Heart! If there is hope for there is for white peo

PostSat Sep 24, 2016 9:51 am

JoeofKek wrote:It's good that you can have that hope. I cannot. It is beyond me. Even if there is hope for white people, that just makes me feel worse because it still means there is no hope for me personally. (I know. That's terrible, but what else is there?)

Given that our enemies are willing to destroy the entire world in Nuclear Fire to make sure we do not have a chance to win, why do you think that they would not enact a plan to ensure that? So long as Samson Looms, any hope we have is a false hope.


Sorry, we can't help you, Joe. Please seek help for your terminal case of defeatism elsewhere.
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Helmut Stuka

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Re: Take Heart! If there is hope for there is for white peo

PostSat Sep 24, 2016 10:15 pm

Speaking only for myself as a nonmember of NA—and as a man who is physically crippled, has forsworn the seductive “benefits” of the Nietzschean slave-morality disability/welfare trap,¹ is to all intents and purposes totally alone, and is now facing imminent homelessness and starvation with slim chances of survival:  There is no room in this world for those who do not have the will to struggle and fight.

(¹ So described with the note that I am a socialist on the model of National Socialism, which raised people to new heights rather than sinking them into an abyss of endless dependency.  N.b. too the aphorism, “You can’t bite the hand which feeds you.”)

O, woe and despair!  If I let myself for one moment indulge in my own helplessness and hopelessness, then I would either kill myself immediately—or ring up a psychiatrist with a kindly Jewish face for nerve-deadening happy pills by the fistful.  Few whiners could have better excuses than I do.  But I don’t, because I know the principle that no matter how badly I have it, somebody, somewhere has it worse.  Indeed, others have faced far worse than I, much more nobly, only to be rewarded with horrible deaths followed by endless Defamation of their ghosts.  Who am I to wring my hands and weep, rather than forcing myself to rise with even one-tenth the courage that they had?

I know that amidst a society of fashionable purposelessness and quests for “self-actualization”² which can never quite be found by those who seek it, all that sounds lofty and idealistic—or perhaps even “grandiose”.  What positive goal could justify such effort?  Something larger than oneself, something worth more than one’s own life—something worth dying for.  I wrote as my own personal motto:  “Only they who have something to die for, have something to live for.”  Thus being oriented toward life, I know that my only chance of achieving that “something” is to not give up“Kapitulieren?  Nein!”

(² Term originated by Abraham Maslow, a Jew with both Boazian cultural anthropologist and Cultural Marxist connections.)

And that positive “something”, the only “something” worth living and dying for, must be something given to others such that I may live on in them long after I am dead.  In other words, something for posterity—a concept of collective heritage by a common future, which in any meaningful sense can be only a racial matter.

Wherefore I admire the National Alliance for standing tall as its Life Rune logo against defeatism, nihilism, self-absorbed whining, self-righteous cowardice, and any attitude rooted fundamentally in fear and hatred rather than the unyielding iron determination to either do the right thing, or die trying.  Moreover, I salute the original poster for his own determination to struggle and fight his way out of a very bad trap—a general matter about which I myself have not-insignificant experiential sympathy.

The race shall be to the swift.  The battle shall be to the strong.  And the laurels of final victory shall rest on the brows of those motivated by such a spirit of internal resistance as grants them power tantamount to a force of Nature.

“Lieber tot als Sklave!”
/s/ Helmut Stuka • https://undeutsche.wordpress.com/
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JoeofKek

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Re: Take Heart! If there is hope for there is for white peo

PostSat Sep 24, 2016 11:15 pm

Will Williams wrote:
Sorry, we can't help you, Joe. Please seek help for your terminal case of defeatism elsewhere.


There is no help. You know that. But of course you'd turn your back on a white person who wasn't perfect. It's just how it goes. You're no different than the alt-right.

@Helmut

How nice for you. Great that you can overcome. Now how does that translate to my situation? Because I don't think it does.
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Helmut Stuka

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Re: Take Heart! If there is hope for there is for white peo

PostSun Sep 25, 2016 4:34 am

JoeofKek wrote:
Will Williams wrote:
Sorry, we can't help you, Joe. Please seek help for your terminal case of defeatism elsewhere.


There is no help. You know that. But of course you'd turn your back on a white person who wasn't perfect. It's just how it goes. You're no different than the alt-right.

@Helmut

How nice for you. Great that you can overcome. Now how does that translate to my situation? Because I don't think it does.

Translation:  “Me, me, me, me, me—why won’t somebody do something for meeee?

Evidently, Aristarchus and Galileo were wrong:  The Earth does not revolve around the Sun, but rather it revolves around JoeofKek.

Why don’t you start by asking what you can do for others?  If I did that, so can you.  Wherefore your whining presents a bitter cosmic irony to me.  Take the hint.  Or since subtlety is out of fashion nowadays, let me spell out a bit how this “translates”:

I have a sound mind, but am trapped in a defective body.  I am manifestly incapable of most kinds of work, and for various reasons am totally unemployable within the narrow-but-deep range of jobs I can actually perform—not that jobs are available generally.  I officially don’t have a friend in the world to help me, and have alienated the race-mixing family who produced me.  I am almost clean out of Jewmoney, and have physical difficulty opening the few remaining cans in my food reserves.  I won’t last a week on the street, where I expect to be shortly.

I managed to buy myself some extra time; but most of it was wasted on people who turned out to literally believe that the Earth is flat, and the time seems to be now really over.  I have a category called “Galois Notes” on my blog—a reference few people will understand, and fewer will appreciate.  And all of my most urgent problems could be solved if I would discard my principles—principles which have brought me neither riches nor popularity, but rather ridicule, retribution, and raw hatred from others.  I know that had I held those principles from the start, I would not be where I am now.  But I did not, and I am—and I will not go backwards!  I also know that I did not help my cause with some deliberate naïvety on my part; but that is another subject for another day, should I have one.

All I really want most is in essence a well-heated monk’s cell with a bath and a stove and an electrical outlet, where I can write abstruse philosophical books addressed and dedicated to Aryan posterity.  I have the unforgettable experience of pleading to somebody who is supposed to care about me—pleading not for myself, for my books—for what they could give to the world—for what they could give to the future.  The only and unalterable response:  “Will they be racist books?”  Well, here I stand; I can do no other.  I would say, but it moves, except that my problem seems to be a refusal to recant.

Whereas instead of giving up, I punch through the day by telling myself that if Hans-Ulrich Rudel could fly missions on a fresh amputation and go mountain climbing with half a leg missing, I should cease being such a weakling; and I am still perhaps foolishly striving to contribute some desperate scrap of something to the cause and the future I claim to love more than my own life, rather than spending every moment focused obsessively on my own physical survival, as I should be doing (and indeed should start doing right now—no, yesterday).  I tell myself that Galois should have stopped scribbling, and gotten a good night’s sleep.  It doesn’t help.

Guess what?  If I can take that approach to life, then so can you.  That is how it “translates” to you.  Try it!  It may save not only your life, but also what, for lack of a word without irrelevant baggage, I will call your soul.  But I suppose such would require that you dump your noxious gods-are-out-to-get-you philosophy—plus the attitude that Chairman Williams owes you a personal favour on account of the outstanding achievements which you haven’t made, and the burning wish to give something to the National Alliance which you haven’t shown.

At that:  Shame on you for coming into a community and publicly insulting their leader on the exclusive grounds that he won’t hop to your personal assistance after you have expressed no desire to give more than you take, and indeed done substantially nothing but post elaborate rants about how the universe is evil, all is hopeless, and Cosmotheism is bunk.  Especially when said community is so courteous and hospitable to guests (such as myself).  Especially when said leader has been nothing but civil to you, and has done nothing whatsoever worthy of your personal invective.

I could say much more, on many different topics—some of which might be agreeable or even helpful to you.  But I doubt it would be appropriate when Chairman Williams already said this to you (amazingly, without concomitantly disabling your account; Aryans are just too trusting).  So I will leave it at this:  Stay away from drugs, and pull yourself together—or don’t.  I will not be responding to you further, except perhaps in the very unlikely circumstance that somebody from NA asks me to.
/s/ Helmut Stuka • https://undeutsche.wordpress.com/
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This post belongs to the Aryan people; legally it’s public-domain. Repay me with donation to NA or other help to White cause. Thanks.

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