I had sat in my front lawn – all of it was real, or none of it. I was swirling in a world that made no sense and the truth was, some of it was. But not any parts made publicly available.
So much of the torment, the theft, the threats of disfigurement, gaslighting, hacking and harassment have been:
“Hehe haha funny.”
Or
“I’m scared of you because you’re crazy.”
Or
“You don’t deserve to be the writer of those books.”
I don’t? Because I’m mentally ill? Or because I’ve been psychologically tortured by your lies and stories into appearances of a beast.
Ones some believe.
You twist and turn with gaslighting and then laugh at what you eventually persuade me to believe.
“Come back to reality.”
Love to. Would you maybe leave me the fuck alone so I could?
The sex traffickers? The terrorist would be? The jilted lover? All woven into my understanding by real fucking torture?
The reasons seem to be pettier than the tales you’ve persuaded me to believe. No wonder you would rather I think you’re hunting the NSA – but are too stupid to recognize I’m not involved in intelligence services.
Rather that than own up to what you’ve become to make me appear the bitch.
“You don’t deserve your cat. She’s too pretty and special. So we’re going to lie about her and take her.”
Who else needs a therapy cat but one who has PTSD, or other mental illnesses?
“You don’t deserve to be so pretty.”
So you what? Make me appear ugly on the inside so I’m not competition?
What is this American idea of “deserve”. Like you’re the god of everything. Americans can do better and used to. What happened to you so that you fear me?
Americans are supposed to be brave and bold. Not sly and nasty.
“You’re so crazy, no man would want you”
Ah. There’s the problem you jealous bitches.
I guess all attempts to care for my appearance are a problem in that regard. Better make me too afraid to go to the dentist! Then I can warp into what you want.
I’m tired of your abuse controlling what the world thinks of me – particularly when you’re the problem.
You claw at every success because in your eyes it’s you or me.
And you make me into a monster so others agree..
I don’t think I can live with what you’ve done to me.
Now I’m the paranoid person who never leaves her room and occasionally bursts at the torment.
You torture and torment me into a reaction out of fear of my mere existence. Then when I seem to be what you said you were afraid of? You point the finger.
“She’s the problem. I’m oh so scared of her”
Leave me alone!
I just would like to go back to quietly being the village sweetheart if you are quite done?
But I return to me and it exposes your cruelty and lies, the problem is you. No one can endure what you’ve done.
No one.
Leave me alone!
You take this personally and think it directed at you?
Look in the fucking mirror because I don’t even know what you look like, let alone your name. You think it’s about you? Then I guess it is.
I hope reckoning come to you one day.
Leave me alone!









