Tag Archive: Exhaustion


31.08.2014

My radio is playing up, it won’t transmit properly without interference unless I’m sitting still in the middle of the room or right on top of it, so I’ve been playing my way through my Napster library (yes, I’m still with Napster) to see why I downloaded the items in the first place.

I don’t normally play my music during the day, but I’ve got a few that I go to at night and play in an attempt to get myself off to sleep, so yesterday and today I thought I’d do a whistlestop tour of everything in my library, except it’s not whistlestop, I’m playing them right through in alphabetical order of artist.

I’ve got some ‘music for deep meditation’ on at the moment called Bansuri.  I’ve had Alfie Boe on, someone called Antman reading the first 29 Psalms, Amy Grant, AudioBible reading of the Gospel of John, Andy Williams (downloaded for my mother) and Arthur Rubenstein playing Chopin’s Nocturnes.  That’s just the first few.  I’m into the Bs now but I can’t be bothered to list them.  While I’ve been listening to all this I have been tweeting and retweeting on Twitter.  I’ve had a few new followers today and I’ve gone over the 200 mark.

I’ve got a move coming up in the next 2 or 3 weeks to an absolute rabbit hutch of a bungalow.  I’m very anxious about it.  There is plenty of garden so I am erecting a shed in the back to store my belongings which won’t fit into the bungalow.  Within 4 months it will have paid for itself as the alternative would be to keep my stuff in storage.  I’m worried that the shed might not be big enough, I’m worried about money, and I’m worried that I won’t be able to find the things I want inside the bungalow.

In my planning I am compensating for not having a lot of space in my bungalow by working towards being able to afford a cheap house in Bulgaria.  You can get something really spacious for about 6 or 7 thousand euros, and I’m thinking of taking my stuff over there with me.  I know it seems drastic but it’s the only way I am going to have my own space, and the countryside is lovely.  Without a landlord breathing down my neck there I should have a different experience from my first one, if I own my own property.  I should feel more secure.  I should feel secure here, but I feel doomed to a cramped and impoverished existence.  Maybe it’s my fault and I’m being too negative and ungrateful.  I can’t honestly see how I can make it home though.

I’ve got the Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band on now, ‘Gorilla’.  Tommy Boyd introduced me to that on his radio programme.

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Hey I can write now.  Maybe I always could.

20.09.2012 One Year Homeless

And to think I raided my credit card piggy banks because I thought it would be dealt with within a month.  I didn’t realise I would run out of money before I was re-housed.  The date on this post will be 21.09.2012 because I have kept the blog in Bulgarian time to save confusion.  It is also Greek time and Syrian time.  Imagine how that felt to me last year when I was watching the news and Syria was in my own time zone.  It made me forge a strong emotional connection with events there.  Perhaps that is why some of my past posts areas they are.  Emotions were being stretched in every direction.

I have marked the anniversary by playing loads of music and buying a CD off eBay.  That is the first eBay purchase I have made since before I first left for Bulgaria.

That’s it really.  I can’t be bothered writing anything else tonight.

Oh, I can watch the BBC with my dongle even if I can’t watch anything else.  I can watch live tv, but not archives, and I can’t play live radio.

Started chapter 2 and realised it is not one story but several, a collection of short stories.  Very sad.  I am not sure, I do not think, that I would have been mature enough to read them at the time I was supposed to, in my first years at grammar school, but there is no way I can tell now.  I hardly went to school in those depressed years following my father’s death.

Depressed and angry years they were, too.  I used to stay at home reading Christian paperbacks, mostly, trying to work out how to belong.  I wanted to join Teen Challenge and work woith drug addicts.  An irony occurs to me here.  I’ve spent most of my life wanting to be up to and fit for the job and it feels as if – you pick it up, and develop yourself in the job, as you practise and go along.  I am looking down my nose at jobs I used to want to do – social worker, drug addiction outreach, etc.  What would I have become if I had got into those jobs earlier instead of thinking that office stuff was all I was fit for?  I didn’t know about gaining experience through voluntary work which would count as experience, and I seem to remember they all wanted qualifications anyway, specific to the role.  So you had to be a qualified social worker to be a residential care worker.  I’m not sure what my position would be now, especially having developed a disdain for the way psychiatry has worked in my life.

Still have nurses vocally tagging me and slipping in linguistic mickey finns.  Latest went “she-she-she-schitz”.  I can’t see that the question ‘why’ really matters.  When I think I should be justifying it I am thinking that it is a way of getting to my heart to develop trust.  The church uses parables.  So after my initial resistance I find myself wanting to justify them and thinking of myself as ungrateful and arrogant.  I am very tired at the moment.

I have just had my block leave increased from 3 hours to 5 hours, and the 3 half hours for local stuff stopped, so effectively I have half an hour longer than I had before, but the longest I can stay out at any one time has increased from 3 hours to 5.

Dr Fahy and I had a set to this morning.  I ended up arguing that she must think that the flash mobs and the harassment and violence were part of my mental illness, that that was what she was saying, but that I disagreed and that she could no more appreciate everything that I knew gave significance to what I was saying than she could unpick the Bayeux Tapestry and appreciate that.  She said that she believed it was part of my experience and I walked out because I thought she was saying I believed it was part of my experience but was all in my head.  That is what that response has come to mean to me over the years.  She might have meant she knew it was real.  If that is the case we are not communicating well with each other.

I don’t mind being tired as long as I am allowed to rest during that time.  I believe that is what I need, and the reason I have not wanted to stay on the ward is that it is just the same as what was happening at home, the shouting, the violence, except there is little here I can do to alleviate it short of go out.

Incitement, Provocation and Harassment

There is such a thing, which is still legally recognised, so I believe, as incitement and provocation which might, ordinarily, were I not already tagged schizophrenic and dangerous, be seen as mitigating elements in any way that I were to react to it.

Last night a hostel booking fell through.  I couldn’t afford the key deposit in cash, the hostel didn’t take cards and I couldn’t withdraw money as I had less than £10, which is the minimum withdrawal from a cash point.  I tried to apply for a crisis loan earlier in the day and I was holding for 20 minutes, after which someone picked up the phone and said their systems were down and they couldn’t do anything about it or make alternative arrangements for making payments.

Because I didn’t have the key deposit they asked for photo ID.  I don’t drive, I have lost my passport (again, 2nd time in my life), and I kept insisting that, because I was British, I didn’t need photo ID.  But although the booking had been made and I was able to pay for the room itself, they told me I couldn’t stay without providing photo ID, so I went to the airport.  I won’t say which terminal.

I was harassed by ‘yellowjackets’.  At the end of their shift, their was plenty of space in which they could have talked, but they positioned themselves right next to me and talked while I was listening to audio.  I turned round later and saw them looking at me and hanging out to me almost with a lovelorn look.  They were like dogs after a bitch on heat (I used to have one.  They tried to mate with my leg when I took her out).

If they have something to say they should say it.  If they don’t I shouldn’t be getting their demands for attention.  What they are doing is harassment and invasion of privacy and feels psychologically violent and without justification.  It is that simple.

There is a lady at Deptford Reach, Dee, who keeps vamping at me with my voice and mode of expression. She is one of the workers and she does it to me all the time when she is supposed to be helping.  A homeless project worker doing that to a homeless client that she knows doesn’t like it.  She said quite deliberately today that something ‘drove her insane’.  I remained silent.  It was confrontational and I believed it was inappropriate.  She knows how I feel, we have had the conversation/argument many times.  She is imposing herself on/over me with me.  It is emotionally and psychologically disturbing and draining.  Then I have to go out, her having done that, and deal with all the other sickos.  She knows everything, I have told her, on the first day.  I didn’t tell her so she could do this to me with it.  I told her to help her and warn her and so that she could better help me.  That was about 2 months ago.  It is as if she is queening oin front of me with my personality, saying ‘what are you going to do about it, because I’m not going to stop’.  In the context it feels violent and I feel clubbed blind and stupid.

I feel I am answering my own questions as I am writing and believing she is trying to find a point of identification and to help and not to dominate.  But I go in trying to avoid getting hurt in the first place.  My guard is already up, because all the workers know and no one is saying anything.  Some of the male workers stare at me for ages with this energy, and keep shifting and marking and calling over me if I speak.  I makes me angry, but I know my anger is impotent, and so do they, and that makes it worse because they don’t move from doing it and I get the impression they do it because they think they can get away with it.  Every time I try to reclaim myself someone is on top of me.

I’ve noticed loads of people touch their ears.  I don’t.  Sometimes it has been obvious they are hearing a voice or some sort of psychic thing is happening to them.  I don’t do the ear-touching thing.  Maybe because I am in too much shock and am continually being forced under or open.

Mentally, emotionally and physically I am ready to lash out at these people, both those who demand of me or make me vulnerable, and those who look at me in fear or as if I am some sort of personal offence and to be treated as an object of disgust, them not even knowing me.  Those who take advantage of my fear of confronting them to impose themselves on my immediate space in a way they have no right to.  Yellow jacket almost skinheads (say what you like about moving with the times and it being OK, extreme nationalist groups still use it for initiation/identification, and a person’s first impression is created by sight and association), imposing themselves on a tired, homeless woman trying to get through the night, silently demanding attention from me, or standing almost right on top of me when I have my headphones on, with all the space that is available to them at this terminal.

The thing is they do this, and I can’t cope with the things I need to do, or remember to communicate (since most people do the voice takeover thing on me), so if these people are going to freak me out with this kind of activity, they should make the phone calls I need to make and pay for all the stopgaps I have to pay for while I am too hurting and distracted by the abuse to help myself.

Hallucinogenic Anxiety

I am now so much in fear and anticipation of someone speaking as soon as I make a sound I feel really inhibited, and when I forget, the dobre or whatever follows, even when the sound might indicate that I am obviously in pain and discomfort, as I am at the moment, feeling sick with severe diaphragmatic pains.  I have to think it is both aggressive and deceitful and ill-intentioned, the way it acts on me.

Over the last two days I have noticed that, lying in bed and trying to sleep the pain off, my mind cuts out sometimes and I begin to hallucinate.  It just goes, everything blanks out and what might be termed a ‘lucid dream’ takes over.  It only happens in bed, it hasn’t happened anywhere else yet, and I only expect it to happen when I am in a resting position.

You tell people there is a problem or ask what the problem is, and they make out they don’t know, even though they obviously do, so what is the point of trying to talk to anyone?  People hear what they want to and say what they want to and act how they want to, and believe they have a right to keep me outside, even if I ask.

Do you remember, did you watch, the western, years ago, where someone took revenge on a man by slowly spit roasting him?  Later they came back to him, or someone else did, and the man was all but dead, and he said ‘kill me, please kill me’?  He was handed a gun, and he shot himself in the head.

I was looking at Owen Thomas again this evening, he seems to have been presenting the news all weekend.  I heard what was coming out of his mouth, this man with the presentation of an angel, and it was completely obscene.

There was a man with a BBC tee shirt living next to me.  People used to use my music a lot.  One of the songs I played was a Larry Norman song which had the line ‘with the face of an angel and the heart of a beast’.  It seems to me they have taken sadistic pleasure in populating the media with people like that.

I want to die.  I’ve got nothing left to live for.  Everywhere I go I run into demon-possessed, subhuman, rapacious dogs and killers.  They have killed me.  They have murdered me.  Christians and non-Christians alike.  I wish I had never bothered with any of them.  Some friends these people have turned out to be.  Give me a year, then bugger off, then never make committed contact again.  Even block me twice on their Youtube account.  Leaving me to these harassing, raging, banging, howling dogs that the whole world seems to be peopled with.

And the more distress and pain I express, the more all of them, including Christians, sadistically pump out sweetness and light.  Leaving me feeling like a crying, huddled up wreck blubbering in a corner.

There is no God, they have killed Him.  I might as well die too.  These people, especially the most angelic looking and sounding, are aggressively satanic and hateful.  They have already killed me.  They will not be challenged.  Anyone who challenges them will be open to question themselves, and I can’t see that anyone is willing to be in that position.

I am being eaten alive by spiritual and psychological, open-throated, animal-like, savage cannibals.  I feel I have no existence worth holding on to.  That’s what the bible says: ‘their throats are open sepulchres’.

I am being psychologically attacked from every side.  Every time I do something different in my apartment, the woman upstairs shouts and they bang.  The whole situation, including with the media, is literally taking my oxygen and I can’t breathe and my chest hurts and I can’t cope.

On top of that, today I am watching Nik Gowing on ‘The Hub’ on BBC World News, and just as I began to get my breath, at exactly the moment, he banged on his desk.  He does this a lot, but until this incident I hadn’t seen him do it today.  His body language is very violent, so is his speech, and I believe it is deliberate, and has been as long as I have been aware of him, which is several months.  They all do it, Peter Dobby is at it now, and they have a laugh in their voices as they do it.

You don’t have to take my word for it.  If you don’t already watch them, I suggest you should start and see for yourselves.  Not just today, but consistently.  I hope you will.  It might help me if they know other people are watching this with intelligence and awareness.  I can’t take it.  I shouldn’t have to.  It’s deliberate, it’s evil, it’s mockery, and now they are coming on so jovial and stuff, you just want to hit them, don’t you?  Yes you do, it’s natural.  You don’t do it, either because you can’t or because you have self-control.  But you want to.  Because they are so violent and evil.

I want them dead.  They are playing the ‘bait and switch’ game.  I want them dead.  That’s how they want me to feel.  And they want me to say it, as I have, and they want my readers to think it is me that is dangerous, because I have a mental health diagnosis. At the very least they use that fear to keep me under control.

I’m afraid.  They are really hurting me.  I’m sure that is what they want.  They are having a laugh, and I can’t breathe and my chest hurts.

When I first started typing this, Nik Gowing’s voice took on a note of appeal.  It’s gone now.  I wonder if he was aware that I was typing this post?  Past experience tells me he probably was, and I hope he continues to expose himself, because he is really thuggish and evil.

 Edit note 6.07 pm UK time:

Someone said a little while ago to keep up with the dissonances.  I know it is deliberate.  The apparent stuttering is also deliberate.  Notice what the mistaken and half-finished words are, when it happens.

Tanya Beckett was on not long ago, doing the cat act, which has also been agreed.  She looks a lot like Jeni Barnett who is now on BBC Radio London and used to be on LBC 97.3 FM.  I’m sure Ms Beckett must know that.  On LBC they also have, or used to have, other people named the same as me and my neighbours in London.

But just before I started this note Peter Dobby said ‘are’ the same way as they did on ‘Strictly Come Dancing’, with the same emphasis and hesitation, and in the same way that Tommy Boyd used to say it on his programme when he said, ‘I can make you say ‘ah’, and he was talking about an energy point or Chakra point or something like that, just below the navel.  He (Peter Dobby) followed it up with, ‘no more protests’, as if he was giving an instruction or a rebuke, looking intently and almost querulously at the camera as if he is looking for someone and knowing, I believe, that what he has said is something associated with Tommy Boyd, and I believe he knows it is true for me.  He then said the name ‘Christian’ almost as if he was spitting it out in hatred and disdain.

As I started the last paragraph he said a different sentence with the same emphasised pause, then he immediately went into a rushing river of words. They do this a lot as well, and I believe deliberately, and because I know that I find it more dislocating than other people might, but they probably experience the same thing to a lesser degree.  I think they are affecting the charismatic/pentecostal activity of speaking in tongues, it’s a deliberate imitation.

They are also mixing my stuff together with sentences they insist on like, ‘the police have been told to go in and to use force’, and it’s making me think that that instruction has been given concerning me, because I have said in this blog, even today, that that has happened to me before.  It is completely covert to people who do not know, and they keep a poker face throughout.  It is very, very unkind and savage.  It is partly why I am having so many painful stress symptoms, apart from the harassment or at the very least insensitivity to other people’s privacy that I’m getting from my neighbours.  I’m obviously afraid – as you can see, I am feeling obliged to compromise my communication of what I believe I know.  It’s psycholinguistic torture – brainwashing and control, if you like.  I’m frightened.  If the Bulgarian police do come, I hope they are sympathetic and will help me on my terms.  I hope they haven’t been told to come in and use force.  I haven’t checked my email over the last few hours, but the last time I looked I still hadn’t had any answers to the emails I sent to the British Embassy and my housing association, which they asked me for.  They deliberately, I am sure, do everything they can to sound as if they are vomiting and gagging up, apart from everything else, and it is savage and insulting and deliberately provocative.  They put their faces up at the cameras and their whole attitude is saying, ‘what are you going to do about it?’  They follow one pattern of speech for about 10 seconds, then switch to another completely opposite.  They are the world’s rubbish and shouldn’t have any hand in the news or location work where there is unrest.  I can’t stop them, I wish I could.  I know it’s deliberate and so do others.  And people like Premier Radio make it worse, because they retaliate, that was what got me in the first place, taking their retaliation to the secular media onto myself and thinking it was aimed at me.  Was it?  I’m not sure.  But the secular media still has no excuse.

I’ve wondered about the way they are saying ‘Bahrain’, with the glottal stop.  Because David Cameron let fly at Ed Miliband with a glottal stop in Prime Minister’s Question Time yesterday, and I’m thinking it might have been connected.   Ed replied or retaliated with, ‘the man (or the one) who made the tree’ and the tone was religious.  This happens a lot.  I heard a female MP during their broadcast recently say that this government doesn’t talk straight, it talks in code.  That wasn’t me, that was an MP.  But I believe she is right.

I think media people vocally affect pain as well, and so do people in Parliament.  To victims of their stalking who have real and legitimate pain, this is very offensive and provocative.  The croaky, cracking voices and everything.  It’s almost as if they feel it momentarily and deliberately seek to express it vocally because they like the fact that they feel it, it’s a feeling to be proud of.  It hurts me so much because I have been taken in by it for so long, and I think that gives them pleasure to know I understand that and they want to increase the pain I feel.  Their rushing, aggressive speech – OMG.  I really believe they are deliberately trying to make violent, harsh and coarse speech and speech patterns the acceptable thing.  Unless, as I said, I’m just privileged to have heard people like Michael Mish.  But I don’t think it is just that.  They also play with early cut-offs.  I’ve just remembered that because they have just played an advert that does exactly that, and I’ve noticed it before, it always cuts off early.  Cats are never cut off, any hint of refinement and culture is, if it seems genuine.  They go soft and intimate then immediately go into almost yelling things like ‘very disturbing’, like the sports reporter just did (6.50 pm UK time).  It’s psychological terrorism.  And it’s deliberate and criminal, whether it is the media, the politicians or the church.  It seems like a deliberately affected, constant ebb and flow of tone and content.  It’s a wall of words, and is intended to be a wall, and impenetrable.

They have been talking for a while, with a tone of significance, hesitation and almost derisive humour, about objects controlled by thought as well.  I repeat, all of this I am writing today are just a very few examples of what they do constantly.

Zeinab Bedawi is the same.  In fact, I might as well stop naming people (which is easy now I have swtiched off their provocation).  Zeinab Bedawi is the person on now, but they all do it.  I don’t think it is just tiredness and the pressure of the job, I think it is a deliberate stream of anger, hatred, contempt and defiance, even when it seems humorous, and the hope and assumption seems to be that if they all do it no one can challenge them.  For some of them at least it thinly veils fear.

Greg Dyke, the old director of the BBC until 2007, was on Newsnight last night.  In view of my last few posts, at least, please check out his embarrassed and guilty body language.

I get embarrassed about the time I waste or have stolen from me trying to deal with this, because the defiance continues and I think they love it.

But in some ways the worst thing is the Bulgarians.  For 14 months now, when I speak, every time my voice starts to become strong they start imposing their own voices.  Even in this block, it’s like a deliberate vocal struggle.  Apart from the man next door who banged sharply on my wall after only my 2nd day here, that’s what started it.  They yell first thing in the morning, and yell again in intimidating anger last thing at night, and comment at every sound they hear from my apartment, apart from which they are silent most of the time.  Do I yell back?  Yes, of course I do, I’m human and I get desperate, especially when it is so invasive.  That is when they descend into absolute silence, unless strength comes into my voice and then they ride it.  I wasn’t here under official communism, I still wonder if it was one of the torture techniques used.  Or if it is plain, gross stupidity and idiocy.

People like Colin Dye at Kensington Temple I detest, because he takes things like this and throws it back at me, with all the cut throat trickery he knows from his media experience.

I can’t stand it.  It’s like keep going at her until she shouts, then go silent unless you hear ‘that voice’, then ride it.  I feel really sick and I think they are going to try and arrest me under the mental health act.

Someone came this afternoon.  I didn’t answer the door, I was afraid.  I was typing as well.  I wasn’t expecting anyone, so I wasn’t legally obliged to answer the door.  They rang once and went away.  I was convinced it was the police.  Then I realised that I really didn’t have any idea who it was.  And if it had been someone who only spoke Bulgarian, whoever they were, and they were angry and forceful. . .   Most people would say that as a single woman in a situation like this it was probably best not to answer the door.  As it is I’m frightened that one of my neighbours will come out one day and hurt me.  But at the very least I am constantly embarrassed, and I was in pain as well.

I still believe everything I have said in the rest of this post.  And my chest still hurts.  And so does my stomach.  And I feel sick and afraid.  I know what I have had to deal with in the past, at least with my housing association.  Maybe also with the British Embassy.  I’m physically sick with the stress.  I’m not mentally ill.  Stress is not a mental illness, especially when dealing with something like this.

I went to Billa two days ago.  One of the workers there, a blonde man, came up and positioned himself beside me and started talking and yelling aggressively.  When I tried to complain to someone who was called who spoke English, and my voice developed strength and direction, the man started to shout over me again.  Not at me, but over me, as if he was calling out against me.  I’ve had that numerous times here.  There appears to be no point trying to challenge it.  I don’t think anyone wants to listen.  I think they would rather lock me away and make me take drugs for schizophrenia, than deal with other people’s behaviour towards me.  I’m frightened and I feel dishonest.  People, including my politicians, have postured as trying to help me, subliminally, and now I think they are turning the tables on me.  But because it has been coded and subliminal I can’t prove anything.  I almost feel as if this time I’m going to die or really lose my mind or something.  That something is going to be done to me which will destroy me.  I can’t do hospital, the nurses shout and hammer on doors, and I’m a vegan, and my stomach hurts.  I’m terrified and feel like passing out.  If they come at me with drugs, after all this, I swear I’ll go mad.  God help me, don’t let them hurt me.  Not anymore, please.  You are my only help.  If someone comes at me without You, they come at me with no ability to help.

One of the nurses on the ward, Simon, if he started getting tearful and upset, he would make a big, loud and inaccessible joke of it and talk about ‘filling up’, instead of stopping to examine his feelings and why he was feeling them.  I asked him about it once.  He fobbed it off, communicated something to the others then a little while later deliberately reimposed it in his conversation.  I’m scared to go back to that.  I feel as if my back is breaking.  Please don’t anyone make me go back to that.  And they don’t even cater for a vegan diet, at all.  But if they decide that’s what they want to do to me, they won’t care about that and will treat me as a nuisance.  I saw it with someone else.  They mocked her for what she called her ‘food allergies’, she had to buy food for herself, and if she felt ill and in pain, which was often, they bullied her, constantly and unashamedly complaining about her and telling her off.

At one point I seemed to be getting on well and normally with people on the ward, including one older lady, and Simon said quite openly, ‘we’ve got to get it back’, but he wasn’t talking to us, just for us, or me, to hear, so it seemed.  One day he did what I had never seen him do, he came and sat silently in the day room, where there was just me and this woman.  He sat at the table at the other end, apparently reading a newspaper, and he didn’t say hello or anything, and he sat there for ages, apparently listening to the conversation, but never contributing to it or doing or saying anything to be polite and acknowledge us.  I found it intimidating and upsetting and offensive, and when our relationship broke down he didn’t do it anymore.  He did it a couple of times at least.  His presence was so imposing without him acknowledging us or what he was doing that it made the conversation strained.

I once wanted some music on in the day room, I didn’t normally because it was Christian and I didn’t want to impose it on everyone else.  But I didn’t have my CD player, it had been taken for ‘electrical checking’ which was normal procedure, so I decided that, since everyone else played their music in there, I could play mine as well.  The girl with the food allergies came in and said she wanted to play something else, and when I said I wanted to listen to mine she found fault with it and said it wasn’t even good quality Christian music (that it could at least have been good Gospel music, but it was Vineyard style, or Noel Richards, which is not so loud in style, it’s in many ways more laid back and less ‘in your face’ and aggressive) and she started finding fault with Christianity and shouting and arguing.  A few minutes later she said to Simon that I was a control freak.  Simon said ‘tell me about it!’  I had never played my music in the day room until then, and she just wanted me to take it off.  But I didn’t see why I should have to.  It might have been a kind thing to do, or not, but I didn’t want to have to back down all the time and there was nowhere else I could play it.

What I am saying is, I don’t want to go back to that, and to the staff engaging in that kind of prejudice against me.  And as a vegan (which just means ‘strict vegetarian’, no animal products, there are plenty of other excellent options) I don’t want to be locked up in a hospital with no way to get what I need, which I would have to buy myself because they don’t cater for the diet, and it wouldn’t be cooked in meal form, because the cooker that used to be there was taken away for security reasons and they won’t do it for you.  That is no existence for someone you insist is ill and needs to be treated on your terms and not their own.

Yes, I over-react to things sometimes.  Yes, I make a mountain out of a molehill sometimes.  But not always.  And anyone else having to deal with the same pressures and treatment from officials they are dependent on might do exactly the same thing.  We are like animals under observation and naughty children to be dealt with accordingly, and behind those doors, particularly, they are very open about that and make no effort to hide their attitudes towards us.  That includes the psychiatrists themselves.  They will glower and tease and contradict, and if I became hysterically angry one of them would get angry at me for shouting and say he was going to have me arrested.

I know there are people in the media who will love using this against me.  That’s why my communication is messed up.  Basically no one acknowledges anything I say until I am pushed into crisis, then they descend on me in force and lock me up.  Not only what I say on this blog, but what I say in emails as well, even ones they have asked me for.  While I know that other people acknowledge what is happening and recognise it, as soon as I feel I have reason to be afraid I am going to get a police visit under the mental health act I forget all that and feel very isolated and afraid.  Suddenly my anger and certainty means nothing, because they can just invalidate it in the taking of my freedom.  They present later as not having wanted to do that and having needed to do it for my own safety (or that of others) so it makes me feel my anger and certainty are the problem.  The authorities certainly give the impression that they think so.  They call it paranoia.

People like to make a big thing out of saying you shouldn’t call people evil.  I don’t know if it hurts their feelings or not, but if it does that is all it does.  If they call people psychotic and dangerous, without proof and having got their facts wrong (but if we say so they call us liars and devious), the consequences for us are far worse.  So if we give it back, even believing it is true but embarrassed because we can just as easily, a few hours later, decide it isn’t true – if they can do what they do and we, I, do what I do, why should I be penalised for it, when no one really cares or acts on what I say anyway, while they can call me dangerous and psychotic and take away my freedom and abuse me behind closed doors?  If that is going to happen again, it isn’t right and it never has been.

I don’t want to go back to a situation where I am bullied and neglected by a social landlord when I’m also getting it from the community.  It freezes my thinking.  At least here, if I believed I was safe from these people in the UK, I could think a little bit.  Although I vent on here, my emotions and the pain in my mind are nowhere near as great as they are in London.  Maybe that is why I feel more physical pain.

If it was the police earlier, I still don’t know what they wanted and who sent them.  They might not have come to arrest me under the mental health act, and all of this fear and trauma might be unnecessary.  It has been caused by lack of appropriate official communication.  But maybe they think it is appropriate to keep me in the dark if they intend to arrest me, and just keep turning up and one day force entry.  Maybe they are afraid I will abscond and they want to keep the upper hand and the element of surprise and uncertainty.  That’s what they normally do.  No one is talking to me, just banging and shouting and commenting, and officially I don’t know what is happening.  I have been handled this way for years, and it contributes to the anger I bring to everything else.  I’m constantly nervous and afraid, and I bottle it up for so long until I’ve had enough and vent in anger.  People around me do it at me.  I shouldn’t be singled out as the problem.

My fear of police violence here is offset by my own shame that I am not able to understand their language and culture.  As always, I think all of this is my responsibility.  However bad people are to me, I think it is my fault for not understanding.  I feel that way with everyone.  And I think that if only I would acknowledge my own wrong doing then everything would be all right for me and none of this would happen.  That if I would recognise their official responsibilities and cut them some slack things would go better for me.  But I’ve tried that and been ignored, repeatedly, and now it feels as if they are saying, ‘just this one step further’ and I feel guilty, and at the same time I have been accused of things I have never done.  They have the ability to make me feel guilty for what I feel is my lack of response.  They lift things off my computer.  I really believe that.

Someone on The Daily Politics or Newsnight yesterday said that the Coalition is doing things with indecent haste, and I have heard people say that about them before.  In this case the man said that what should normally take 6 months is being passed in 11 weeks.  He put it down to the deficit crisis. But at the same time he called it ‘indecent haste’.  I wonder what the shortcuts and evasions are that are involved in such a truncation.  Indecent haste.  I’ve had that for years.  I do believe media people’s speech is deliberately aggressive and that that is why I am having trouble communicating.  The aggression is behind the hospital doors as well.  If I’m supposed to be ill I don’t want to be there, I want some peace and quiet and space to think, not drugs forced on me by people who do nothing to hide their fear and contempt, when all is said and done, and even before all is said and done.  Someone please listen to me and honour that.

I’ve just updated this, it is 5.15 am on Friday morning.  As soon as I pressed the update button there was a bang from upstairs, like a chair clattering or something.  At this time in the morning that might be reasonable. But it is the constant coincidence of this kind of thing, given everything else, which really terrifies me and freaks me out.  The psychiatrists call it ‘auditory hallucinations’.  I think they used to call it that as well when they would see me weighing up in my mind what I was experiencing and hearing with them compared with what I heard in church and read in the Bible.  Especially if the difference, and thinking the church was involved in what was happening to me, freaked me out, they would say that I seemed to be responding to ‘auditory hallucinations’.  I think on the whole I have to become more secure and smile when I feel afraid, instead of giving in to the fear.  I’m sure it would make life much easier, at least while I don’t have the TV or radio on.

His name is Esteban.

(Copy with some tags I had to exclude.  First published 11.08 am Bulgarian time.)

I watched the recording last night of last week’s sermon by Kristian Lythe.  I had forgotten his name, I’ve not seen or heard of him for ages.  But Kristian mentioned him in his sermon, he had made a traffic lights illustration.  He was saying something about red lights, among other things.  I don’t know how much of the sermon I would need to talk about to have you understand.  It can be found at http://www.kt.org/media. (note: please don’t be distracted by the shouting and his insistence on having the word of the Lord or anything else you see and hear.  If any of it is true [how much of it can be?] it is still not the point).

I don’t know how they get hold of information like this about people in my life, but it particularly concerns me that they have sufficient information about this man, Dr Gallo, to use a lookalike of him. Maybe my concern and the way I am handling it are stupid, selfish, treacherous and ungrateful.  I was assuming that they had the information through having had direct communication with Dr Gallo, but that might not be true.   But if it is true, although personally and emotionally I would like to come out and patch things up, I really think there is cause for concern here.  They had told me to leave the church.  I haven’t been there for over a decade.

What are they doing with something like this, it is none of their business, and neither Dr Gallo nor anyone else has ever brought this connection up with me. I’ve known for ages they do the same things with close family and past friends and acquaintances.  As I have said before, I do feel love and I do feel loyalty, but this is stalking, in a way the psychiatric team has told me doesn’t happen, or at least, isn’t happening to me, and they have partly based their diagnosis on my insistence that it does and is.

My Christian response is my biggest felt response, but also I need to keep identification with others in the psychiatric patient community (excuse terminology, maybe I should talk more in terms of mathematical sets, for which being a part of one doesn’t necessarily imply relationship)  and recognise that this is stalking, it is a step, or more like several steps, too far in ruling a church and church discipline and discipleship, I need to employ the term ‘heavy shepherding’ because people recognise it, and recognise myself that this is what is happening in this situation.

They and other churches I’ve been involved with have been challenged many, many times by me about this, in emails, through my blog, and emails are not answered and no conversation entered into through my blog.  David Shearman’s church bounces my emails back to me, whether I have mentioned his name or not in the address or body of my email (I no longer send them and have assigned any responses to ones I do send to the spam folder) saying david.shearman@christian-centre.org is not a valid email address.  If this is supposed to be heart talk for please come home, then I am sorry, and it is probably my loss.  That email address used to be valid, I don’t know if it is only me that gets that kind of response, or used to until I stopped emailing.

I’m very, very sorry, but this is awful.  I feel awful for handling it this way.  I’m not even fully convinced that they are wrong to do this anymore, and that is one of the reasons I need feedback and help from people in whom I have expressed trust who might be more convinced than I am.  I am too emotionally caught up to fight, and the way my readers distance me, on the whole, makes that worse. These people know who they are, and some of them know I love them because I believe they are the sort of people who would want to help and not cause injury.

I might be mistaken in my assessment, in fact at the moment I would like to cause injury myself and have obviously felt that way for ages.  I don’t think in a situation like this that makes me nuts or dangerous, even if under extreme provocation and in distress I even employ gestures to demonstrate how I feel when everything else is ignored.  When I was a kid ‘I’ll kill you’ meant ‘you have gone too far’, not ‘you’d better take steps to separate yourself from me and protect yourself’.  It might be crass and it might not be used in the kindest of relationships, but that is still the way it is for plenty of people who are not considered to be in need of incarceration.  I had it said to me plenty of times.  I’ve never thought of considering that anyone who said it should be locked up.  But maybe I should, on hindsight.  It is emotional thuggery if nothing else.

Ps I have heard Christian leaders involved in this say ‘prove it’.  In something like this that is neither honorable nor Christian.  Robb Thompson was one of them.  He might have been talking about something else.

Tommy, I really do believe this is something that needs to be dealt with, not only for my sake, but for that of others as well.  You have taught me well on that and I’m grateful (even if I don’t always feel I like you very much).  It is as close as a church can get to kidnap.  I know even this gesture towards you rather than coming to you directly is enough to break trust.  I feel that and it feels irrevocable. Partly I feel I’m disempowering myself in any way I could relate to you, and I believe you also need me to be empowered in any relationship we might have, as I need it myself.  So maybe this is just useless empty gesture time again.  I am implicating you, but I’m implicating you to try to empower you, if you think that is something I’m capable of.

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