Tag Archive: Politics


Manchester Suicide Bombing

I don’t say much about news items usually, because I feel so under siege in my own home I can go days without seeing any news. I saw someone post earlier about Manchester but I’ve only just listened to Premier Radio’s Inspirational Breakfast. I broke off half way through to get a cup of tea.

I had Om Shri Matre Namah playing on a loop in the lounge and I found it helped me to process some of what I was feeling. There have been many times when I have felt an appreciation of the depth and beauty of Krishna Das as a priest (he was a priest in Maharaj-ji’s temple), and of a lot of the material he draws on in his chants. This was one of those times. And this mantra, Om Shri Matre Namah, meaning ‘I bow to the divine Mother’ seemed completely appropriate as a prayer for the situation.

In my particular stream of Christianity it may be frowned upon, probably most definitely will be, that I could even be saying this. But Catholicism honours Mary.  Islam does, too.  Even in my own background I was taught that the Holy Spirit has mother-like qualities. In the creation story in Genesis it says that the Spirit brooded over the waters. I heard back in my teens that God is also called the ‘many breasted one’. The mother is the archetypal source of love and nurture.

There are many other kirtan leaders than Krishna Das, but he is the one I know best. He says that when these chants or mantras are sung they are an invocation to the love within us, who we truly are. Whatever we think of how it does or doesn’t work, it seems to me that God as Mother is a model we are badly in need of. Not God the Warrior, God the Judge. People say we become what we worship, so I think it would be good for all of us on this planet, men, women and children, to begin to discover, value, release and cultivate within ourselves and each other the Mother heart, mind and nature of God that exists in so many of the world’s religions, including both Christianity and Islam.

 

Om Shri Matre Namah
I bow to the divine Mother
Within and Without
 

Nelson Mandela

To start with, Nelson Mandela died yesterday.  I was watching Mrs Brown’s Boys with two of the women from the bungalow when the programme was interrupted for President Zuma’s address.  I got the giggles listening because we had all just been laughing, and because it was no great shock, at his age, 95.  I saw President Obama’s address and wondered how he felt to be the one delivering it, as the first black president of the US.  It must have been an awesome moment for him.  There were a lot of moving tributes, and seeing the celebrations outside the old family home, now a museum, was very encouraging.  There are still racial tensions there and apparently some white people are afraid that now the reconciler has died revenge will start to be meted out.  I hope those fears prove to be unfounded.

It’s not an ideal world, and violence is a part of both rule and struggle.  He was fighting for equality between all races, but he was fighting for his own as well.  Otherwise the threat of violence towards the racist white rulers might never have been.  I don’t understand a lot about politics so I can’t write as eloquently as some, but I am in awe of the Civil Rights campaigners and activists.  Once I wanted to be a missionary in Africa.  I was only a child, I didn’t understand everything that was involved, the possibilities of death and mistreatment and everything.  In recent years I have had a very painful relationship with black people around my home and in church and hospital. I’ve had more than one black Christian call me a witch and turn away from me in self-satisfied rejection of me.  I have been called racist a lot.  I’m now very nervous of black people and some types can really make me feel amazing levels of anger.  White people can as well but I feel it more with black people because I’ve never been called racist towards white people.  It hurts, because time once was when I wanted to marry a black person.  I feel a mixture of helpless rage and heartbreak, I just can’t get it right, and neither can they.

I fear the fact that Nelson Mandela never renounced violence.  I know everyone is saying wonderful things about him and I feel touched by those things.  I daren’t say too much for fear of betraying my ignorance of politics and the profound changes which have irreversibly come about in relation to his name.  President Obama said he belongs to the ages.  Hopefully the ages won’t forget and go backwards.  Hopefully the ages won’t employ the violence that was not renounced by their revered father.

Edit note:

I feel really stupid.  I watched a documentary tribute tonight by David Dimbleby which reminded me of the Truth And Reconciliation councils and I saw some of the footage.  I also saw where Nelson Mandela told his followers to take their weapons and throw them in the sea, so he did renounce violence and asked his followers to.   I remember hearing about the truth and reconciliation hearings a long time ago.

Emily Dickinson Poem

Much madness is divinest sense
To a discerning eye;
Much sense the starkest madness.
‘T is the majority
In this, as all, prevails.
Assent, and you are sane;
Demur, — you’re straightway dangerous,
And handled with a chain.

Dickinson, Emily (2011-03-24). Poems by Emily Dickinson, Series One (p. 26). . Kindle Edition.

Loss, Mortality And Related Issues

I learned something I didn’t know yesterday.  I was watching ‘That Was The Life That Was’, about the late Sir David Frost, and I learned that ‘That Was The Week That Was’ had its first broadcast on my 2nd birthday.  A year later, 2 days before my 3rd birthday, President John Kennedy was assassinated.  I remember watching News at Ten on that day and I was aware that something serious had happened.  I felt very sad and shocked when I heard that David Frost had died.  I think the first I knew of him was when he presented ‘This Is Your Life’, which I always liked to watch.  I found myself wishing last night that my dad had watched TW3 and introduced me to it, but I was only 2.  The programme last night was followed up with ‘Frost on Satire’, and it showed clips from ‘Spitting Image’.  In its time I never watched it and wouldn’t have known who all the characters were, I think I might have seen it twice.  I recognised some of the characters last night though.

Hearing of many people dying, some of whom are not much older than me, makes me feel bereaved, and also aware of my own mortality.  I know I’m only 52, 53 next month, but I am feeling the fact of my own death coming up and it isn’t the best feeling in the world.  I keep feeling there have been so many missed opportunities.  I keep seeing people who have grown up, in the media, and wishing I was like them, that someone had fought properly for me to be educated when I decided that I didn’t like school so I wasn’t going, after my father died.  I feel no one really fought for my family.

I’m sitting in Costa at the moment.  I’ve just had a large mocha and downloaded the two Frost programmes I’ve just been talking about.

I was aware of David Frost partly because I knew he was a Christian.  I feel really upset writing this.  ‘That Was The Life That Was’ showed clips from things that formed a fair bit of my memory.  I remember the President Nixon thing, I saw ‘All The President’s Men’ when it came out.  I remember being in a prayer meeting at Talbot Street when the Watergate Scandal erupted and Gerald Ford took over.  In the meeting people were praying against sin and for righteousness and I wanted to pray that God would help Richard Nixon and his family, because I felt very sad for him, but I didn’t dare pray that way.  No one else was.

I’m not sure how much of this is sadness, really, over these past events and memories, and how much of it is just displaced sadness and grief over my present situation.  Feelings can re-attach to anything.  I admire people like Ian Hislop so much but know they don’t know me and probably wouldn’t be interested in me if they did, because the truth is I have nothing to offer.  Maybe that is what idolatry is, attachment to so many people who don’t even know I exist and might not be interested if they did know.  It is miserable, painful and embarrassing and fruitless and pointless, maybe that is why God commands against idolatry, because in the end it is so painful.  I am nursing a hope that Ian Hislop and so many others will see this and care.  How silly is that?  But what if?  THAT would be fun . . . !

Maybe that is the skill of the programmes I saw last night, hitting on so many memories for so many people, and bringing them to life again.  I feel a bit left behind and I’m crying for someone to help me catch up.

I’m missing Tommy Boyd as well.  I met him properly once.  We tried to have a proper conversation.  He’s deleted his blog and left Facebook and Twitter.  I never thought he would do any of that, especially not deleting his blog.  I feel lost without him and I feel attached to him.  I thought he was trying to help me.  I never thought he would leave broadcasting, but from the lack of information about him on the web at the moment it seems he has done jut that.  A lot of my stability and courage, when I had it, came from him.  I went to his house a few months ago, after I absconded from Macmillan Close, ad his wife was there and we had a conversation in which she told me he probably wasn’t interested and reminded me of when they had called the police.  I am grieving because I thought he wanted to help me.  I feel hopeless and helpless without him.  He told the story of a gorilla that was castrated for raging and throwing stones at people that used to taunt it.  He said that was what they were doing to us as well.  I identified with that with regards to my situation with the mental health services.  He said he thought it was wrong, that people should have been told not to taunt him and a proper environment maintained for him.  Anyway, he is inaccessible now.  I don’t know if he will ever be accessible to me.  I thought he was going to be.  I thought he wanted to be.  I never thought I would have to abandon hope with regard to him, and indeed I dare not.  I wonder what is going on with him?  I wonder if he is OK?

Am I Just Gullible?

What I don’t like about Szasz is his position that we are all entitled to take drugs.  It seems to me that this is a position that people would have good reasons for opposing, and I myself feel that his argument against institutional psychiatry, which I agree with, is undermined by his position on so-called recreational drug use.  We all know about ‘bad trips’ and I don’t know if bad trips would be eradicated if the supply were officially controlled and therefore ‘pure’.  I suppose no one else knows either, and that because of the effects of ‘bad trips’ it isn’t something that could be tested out on scientific research volunteers or paid people, the risks might be too great.  I do not feel as supported by his argument against institutional psychiatry as I would like to feel because of this.  I myself do not have a history of drug use, and cannot say that I know that people with such a history are not helped by psychiatric drugs.  I wish he did not take this position on recreational drugs.

I’ve also never really read or understood any Foucault, I just know he is a big name in French literature, philosophy and politics, and I’m only using those three classifications to make sure all my bases are covered, because to me he is just a name.  I have got a book of Essential Foucault from the library, though, which I intend to read soon, with my other reading.

Also I get confused at the moment because I am feeling more or less OK and that the only thing which is negative about my present existence is that I am having an injection every two weeks.  I do realise that people could say that I am feeling OK because of the injection and not in spite of it, but my feeling of OK is very limited, because I am a lot more inhibited than I was off medication, and hopeful that people in the hospital will see that I am really OK and don’t need to be on drugs.  I can more or less cope socially and feel that I could before as well, even if things could have been interpreted as being more painful.  There is an argument for saying that other things that break down are sent for repair and things added to them to make them work right, so why not me as a person?  But inwardly I am constantly so much hoping that I will be taken off medication, and I resent the abuses I experienced on other wards that led to the decision to restart medication.  Abuses like being told my problem with door slamming was all because of my mental illness, for instance.

I phoned Richard at Macmillan Close yesterday because I was sad it hadn’t worked out and wanted to tell him so and that I thought he had been really kind to me.  I’m sure it was an easier conversation by phone than it might have been face to face.

There are so many things that confuse me in the Bible.  I was just thinking that Paul says to submit to authority and to obey every law instituted among men for the Lord’s sake.  But Peter and the apostles were told not to preach anymore in the Name of Jesus and Peter told them they should obey the Lord and not men, and preached anyway and got flogged, and imprisoned, and an angel let him out in the dead of night.  I suppose again it is just a matter of confidence or of no confidence whichever of these church leaders give to any one of their people at any time, or opinion as to which they preach to a congregation.  Yet they say obey your leaders as if they really have a divine right.  You can only go so far in obeying your leaders.  Surely honesty recognises that their own denomination probably exists because they or someone before them did not obey a leader?

Stuck for a Title

Because what they are doing to me is so mean, so opportunistic, knowing I have no one to turn to, it beggars belief.

A few times this week I have gone back on the bus hardly able to sit upright and keep my eyes open, I felt so ill.  Today was one of those days.  My bed has been stripped and I asked if it could be made for me because I was upset and didn’t feel well.  First I was told someone would help me and someone was named, then they completely changed their minds and told me not feeling well wasn’t a good enough reason.  I said I was going to A&E because I don’t want to feel like this anymore.  They were full of sarcastic sweetness.  I didn’t go, because I thought they are all as bad as each other and I would be making trouble for myself.  I have no one I can turn to, no visitors, they have kept the harassment and sarcasm and terseness and rudeness just coming at me.  Sharon has been mainly responsible.  There is a nurse called Helen on today, white British (there is another who is black) and she was really rude to me as I came out.  I was talking loudly because I was upset and she said ‘go on’, gesturing at the door, and started talking really hard at me.  They were laughing.  I can’t take anymore, I am tired and upset and everything they do is designed to undermine and humiliate me.  Terry was laughing.  I saw something between him and Sean I wished I hadn’t seen, at least I saw Sean’s reaction, I can guess the rest.  He had just told Terry I wanted my bed made.  I don’t want to go back to this.  I never wanted to do this, and I don’t want to do it anymore, it is inhuman.  Helen was responsible, as a new person, for moving against me and getting me medicated when all I wanted was to get my lunch in peace a few weeks ago, just a few hours before Kerry kicked me in the stomach.  I’ve still had no support over that, I feel upset every time I encounter hr, and she puts herself in my face.

That’s something else.  I saw John in the car park and he ignored me.  He is one of the OT people.  The other day he invited me to a Moving On Group and I said no thanks, the things I would want to talk about as anxieties for moving on are things I’ve already had dismissed as symptoms of mental illness, so it would be frustrating for me.  He said OK and moved on, then I changed my mind, at which point he told me it was a confidential group and he didn’t want me blogging and describing and naming people.  I said I hadn’t described anyone, he said I had described Kerry.  So it was another bit of opportunism.  Why did he invite me in the first place?  I said I had no legal responsibility to not name anyone, staff or patients, and he talked about common law, whatever that is.  He said if I was going to blog he would have to ask me not to come, so I said I would forgo it.  Anyway, he was there in the car park tonight, silently walking up and down and refusing to get involved, as though angry, hurt women are not to be spoken to.  This is vicious.  It is just vicious.  And talking to me about common law, when legal law is being used to do things to me that I don’t want or need, and as well as that I am getting such inhumanity and cruelty.  And wide eyes innocent insolence and discrimination.  They never take my side or other patients’ sides in a conflict between a patient and staff.  I’m worn out and tired, very very tired, and I thought, I’ve tried to believe, that Terry is a friend.  Sometimes it really looks that way. I hurt him and made him angry by accident, and I was angry as well at his reactions.  But I’ve seen him cry, especially after I wrote him a letter.  He had suggested writing a letter before and I didn’t, so I wrote a letter coming out of that, and his tears were real, I saw them.  I’m afraid of him these days, and at one point it wasn’t like that.  When he is with some of the others, anyway, I’m afraid of him.  I was told he was going on a course for dealing with aggression and I became afraid that he would come back changed.  I didn’t realise it was something they have to do every year.  My experience of him to that point had been that he only needed to put himself in a situation and stand there for things to calm down.  I was afraid he would come back like some of the rest.  They always have to have the last word as well, some of them.  What I wrote about earlier today, Tracy did her normal thing of walking out after throwing something at me and me trying to answer her and challenge what she had said.  She is the one who tells me she can’t be bothered with me.  Sue told me she didn’t like me and didn’t want to talk to me.  Sharon is just pig ignorant (apologies to pigs).  I said I didn’t want to look at something they wanted me to look at this afternoon because I didn’t trust them and would look in my own time.  I was told they didn’t care that I didn’t trust them.  It is wrong.  They are determined not to be nice to me in a conflict situation.  I’m dealing with savage animals here who should be struck off.  That reminds me, someone who knows told me today that Dr Bradshaw is leaving.  Dr Bradshaw leaving, Tony off the ward for about 2 months and I’ve been told they can’t tell me why.  They have said he is still team leader, or whatever his title is.  I don’t know how I feel about him at the moment.  I felt sorry for him at one point.

Dr Alan has gone.  I thought he was nice, as anyone connected with psychiatry could be.  He was on the ward one night saying in ‘that voice’ that he would help any way he could.  I thought he was talking to me but I was afraid and not sure.  I had intended to try and talk to him, but now he has gone.  There are some people to whom I want to say, ‘do you think I can help you and if so, how?’  He was one of those people.

Sharon was taunting and bear baiting today.  She always does that with me.  She has started walking past coughing and clearing her throat at me.  I have become too free in saying this kind of thing.  They rarely challenge me, especially not if I am talking to another patient who feels the same way, but I suppose they are still putting it towards a diagnosis of schizophrenia, as though no one could be doing these commonly done to people things to me, it has to be mental illness, because I live in a pristine, antiseptic bubble where none of the things people do to each other are ever done, according to their theories about me.

I have said over the last two days that these people are brainwashed as to how they think it is OK to treat another human being, and that the rest of us aren’t supposed to have a problem with it.  I have heard it said that many people fear mental illness and wouldn’t talk about symptoms because they don’t want to end up in hospital.  It’s a political rule of fear, if that is true, in my opinion.

Another thing I am still confused about is Ruth.  In the wheelchair with MS.  She is often sitting in the corridor in her chair waiting for someone to help her.  Today, apparently, one of the nurses who did breakfast told her she had legs and she should use them.  I don’t get this.  I don’t like being in the dark about something like this, but they call it confidentiality.  Except that this morning wasn’t very confidential.  I often help her, but I am becoming impatient and reluctant myself because I am thinking the staff must have a good reason for making her do things for herself.  She told me they had taken the spacers out of her wheels.  I don’t want to be unkind but I don’t want to contribute to a problem the staff seem to think is made worse by helping her.

My back hurts and I am upset.  There is nowhere i can go and no one I can turn to.  They are taking advantage of that.

Essential Links – New Page

Today I have posted a new page, “Essential Links”, which I will update occasionally if not regularly. It consists mainly of sites which I consider to be essential reading.  It was private for a while and had the first two links already, but the ones I have posted today are antipsychiatry links.  Please visit these sites and read the material thoughtfully, and please check this page often.  I find some of the articles I have read invaluable and in line with my own thinking and experience.

I saw on a site not listed, recently, a photograph of a woman in a wheelchair as a result of tardive dyskinesia, a condition sometimes caused by psychiatric drugs.

Oh – and Happy New Year!

Christian Antipsychiatry

Today I tried to find something on Christian antipsychiatry.  Nothing came up really.  There is no such organisation listed on Google.

I find this disappointing that, in the Christian Church, there is no organised voice that identifies itself with those of us who believe that we specifically have been harmed by psychiatry, and that psychiatry in itself is a harmful thing.  It fits my belief that psychiatric labels are largely a religio-political thing.  It is an iron grip on a fragile soul.

Redwood 2, Highbury Hospital

I’m putting weight on so Dr Jaffer wants to change my medication.  In the meantime we had hotdogs for tea, or sausage, chips and beans, followed by pudding.

The woman who screams and shouts, reportedly because she is deaf, Chris, a male nurse into religious harassment and mind games, was talking to her at 10.15 onwards near my room, with me feeling as if I was being sprayed with acid.  He was doing it in the open regardless of my feelings or anyone else’s, when he could have left her in peace (and the rest of us), or encouraged her to go to her room with him, since it was obviously causing at least me distress.  She was as sulphuric as the woman who used to live over what was my temporary accommodation, but Dr Jaffer is insistent that it didn’t happen to me there at all, even though here it is all over again on the ward.  I was so upset I was shouting at them to stop, saying things like ‘steal my home then bring me into an environment which is an exact replica’.

I’ve got a manager’s meeting Wednesday 14th November.  I hope they will see their way to being more reasonable by then.  Dr Jaffer has not told me she has changed her mind about nothing really happening.  Chris calls himself a Christian.  He did a quiz which I only became a part of because I happened to see it in passing.  In it he talked about pride, and baby animals, the sphinx.  He said it was compiled by the staff.  I tried a few times recently to say hello to him but he turned away so his gaze was somewhere else, before saying hello.  At the time I thought it was like trying to train a dog.  He calls people in my hearing like ‘yip, yip’, here girl style.

Housing has said that it might be down to the therapeutic decision as to whether or not I can be allocated a home.  There is little, in my opinion, which is therapeutic about this place.  Occupational therapy is supposed to be therapeutic, but I find it controlling and judgmental.  I don’t know what their stance is at the moment but I need it to be something better than keeping me homeless in hospital while I have to keep paying about £160 a month for storage.

Psychological Football

I’m always better when I go out.  Yesterday I didn’t go out because I wanted to save money.  Having just bought a month’s top up for my internet dongle I am down to £5 per day until next Wednesday, when I get my DLA.

Have I mentioned that there is a deaf lady on the ward who screams and shouts at the top of her voice?  I got in in time for dinner so I wouldn’t have to spend money on food and almost as soon as I walked through the door, as I was having a conversation with one of the staff, she suddenly exploded right near me, and I just felt shock waves, as I do every time she does that.  I screamed myself to let the shock out.

Going back to money, it is really hard for me having 5 hours a day off the ward when I have no home to go to.  Everything I want to do is going to cost money, especially if I want to eat.  If I use the free internet facility at places I feel obliged to buy something.  If I was at home it would not cost me nearly so much for a cup of tea/glass of wine and a sandwich.  At the moment both the housing people and the hospital are maintaining that they are waiting on each other before I can be housed.  Tomorrow I have a meeting with my key nurse and the housing advocate.  I hope some progress has been made.

Calling us mentally ill if we don’t believe that about ourselves is a visceral, mind-burning thing.  To then have people making fun of the way you speak, clashing pots and pans at significant intervals, and competing with you for your own breathing and speaking and generally acting like pack animals is more than you should be expected to deal with.  But that was what I had at dinner time.  It is open season for mockery.  Jess was scowling.  I see them hugging and sharing the love with each other as they leave, but some of us don’t even get a real personality to speak to, let alone love.  Today Linda was in the kitchen, and Liz and Luke.  It appears they thought my upset was hilarious, if Luke’s reaction was anything to go by.  It is war, nothing else.  When dealing with people who do not recognise their right to label people that way, mental health staff are engaged in a civil war with captives they hold and torture with drugs and other forms of torment.  I see their anger and sometimes I think I shouldn’t trust them and other times I think I should trust them.  It isn’t going to happen though.  Because I am writing this, and they are reading it.  I am fully convinced, after several instances that were too close to be ‘just coincidence’, that the police are monitoring both my blog and messages I have sent via my phone a couple of times.

As I came off the ward I spoke to someone on the building staff and it was obvious from his response to me that he had no time for anything I had to say.  I had thought he was a decent person, but his voice was full of derision when I spoke to him today.

There is a nurse called Vymla who has a couple of times burst out with ‘hi honey’ either to me or ‘on the telephone’ when I have been around.  Something in the tone of voice made me feel it was deliberate.  On the day that I was first due to be assessed for a section 3, having just a few days before discovered that I had been in hospital for nearly a month and none of my relatives knew, because although one had been nominated as closest relative, it came back in the paperwork that no one had been nominated, I was really upset because I was being given only 3 or 4 hours notice with no one knowing I was even there.  Vymla opened the office door and said she was sorry she had to open the door, but I wasn’t shouting loud enough.  I told her to stop being sarcastic and she said she was never sarcastic.  Am I supposed to laugh at this later when things have calmed down and take it all with a pinch of salt?

I don’t think I’ve mentioned Vymla before.  There is another one called Annie who comes at me with faces, it is really grotesque.  One day just as I got back, when the olympics were on, she got me in a long conversation and followed every change in expression in my voice.  I started doing the raise at the end of my sentences, like we have learned from Australia, and she matched me move for move.

I managed to get the first assessment for a section 3 moved to a few days after, maybe Monday where it had been Friday.  They weren’t willing to give way at all until I brought out a pen and paper, then suddenly it all changed.

My last section before this one, a section 5(2) involved a Dr Singh who acted as if he was giving me the third degree.  I hadn’t met him before.  He said, and Liz backed him up, that I had said something I hadn’t.  At that point I wished that I had legal representation and witnesses, but apparently you can’t get them for an assessment.  I forgot his name part way through and asked him to remind me and he was very aggressive, demanding of me why I had forgotten his name, I shouldn’t have forgotten, I had forgotten other things as well.  But I answered all of his questions correctly about the day, date, time, who is the prime minister (though I had to think about that one, I had Margaret Thatcher in my mind).  What I am saying is that the assessments can be, and in my experience have been, a free space for bullying and belittling the patient when neither advocate nor solicitor is there to see.  I think I should have been entitled to an advocate and I can’t remember why I didn’t have one, but as the law stands at the moment I am only entitled to a solicitor after the decision has been made to put me on a section.

Then they act as if what they have done is a perfectly normal way to behave in any relationship.

Someone recently said you don’t get any peace until they have you on drugs.  It seems to me that fits my experience, that they want you on drugs, possibly it makes them feel better.  I asked at one point if I could have the section 3 without the drugs, if they were worried about me leaving hospital with nowhere to go.  When they get you on drugs it seems like ‘fight over’ in many ways, for them.

Today’s Dinner and Matters of the Heart

I was thinking today about a couple of people we have on the ward.  One lady cannot speak intelligibly after an accident and/or damage/operation on her brain.  Another is said to be deaf.   For both of them I think this is the wrong place for them to be.  It is frustrating for them and all of us.  The lady who can’t speak has learned to speak a few words, strengthening my belief that rehabilitation of her speech is possible.  I am not aware that she is getting any support or therapy towards that end.  If my awareness is accurate it is obvious that, having not been a party to any decision on things at that level if any has been taken, I don’t know why.

The lady who can’t speak started ranting at me when she reached over me and put her sleeve in my dinner at the hatch. For all I know she might have been saying ‘sorry’, but all I knew was that she was shouting and wouldn’t stop, right next to me, with staff standing by and not intervening.  I told her to stop talking at me like that because she knew I couldn’t understand her.  I thought I heard one of the domestic staff say ‘bitch’, and I said ‘I’m not a bitch, I’m sick of abuse’, and staff standing by and doing nothing.  What are they doing, standing by and watching it unfold before deciding whether or not to stop it?  Luke said he didn’t think anyone would be calling me bitch, and he should know, in that situation, he was standing right next to the domestic that I thought had said it.  I’ve heard other things like that as well, so I’m not discounting my own understanding – angry at me and despising me for standing up for myself when they don’t stop the woman ranting at me.  Why?  I came away feeling and believing that Luke was just playing the role of the nice guy, even if he didn’t do anything to help.  They started giggling and laughing behind me, among themselves.  They rebuild themselves and help themselves relax while ignoring us.

I asked another patient if she watched ‘Doctors’ at 1.30pm weekdays on BBC1.  I told her that yesterday there were definitely 2 of the ‘staff’ characters recognisable from here and that they had done exactly the same thing with staff in London, and that they were blaming me when I had already told them from the beginning that this was happening.  For trying to act responsibly I have been told that it is evidence of ‘(my) mental illness’ and medicated into exhaustion, while having other people pull shocked disapproving faces at me and calling me bitch – or using the word against someone else and me mistaking it for being aimed at me.  Both are equally unacceptable.

Someone else was saying, before that, that she had been sent the same sort of food for weeks running, and I sympathised with her, saying they shouldn’t employ someone in a place like this who doesn’t know how to cater properly for different diets, because this is not a hotel.

The girl I said was being bullied in one of my last posts has become dependent on everyone rather than being the strong, forthright person she seemed to be when she first came in.  We all pipe sweet pipings in the end.

I moved rooms a few weeks ago.  My old one had a fan or something really loud right outside, and the cigarette break.  I’ve moved to the quiet side.  There is a man in one of the buildings who kept crying out ‘oh’, loudly and pathetically.  People kept trying to stop him.  One day there were two of them, one of them ended up crying out ‘help us’. I’ve had that on my mind ever since but for some reason I’ve only just got round to writing about it.  A woman in the ward told him to ‘shut up’, women from here were imitating him and ended up shouting ‘we love you’.  I shouted to him to shut up at least once.  When I was upset a man shouted at me to shut up.  This place is awful.

There is a lady on the ward who has been getting quite upset.  Talking about staff getting to go home and buy things on dirty money, talking about slurring her character.  Last night the staff listened to her in silence, this morning one of them was talking back at her.  She was saying they were slurring her character and she said she was going to complain and that she had before and would do so again,  Jess kept saying ‘good’ and another patient standing with the nurse was saying to her ‘do you have one’ (character), and made another comment as well, and Jess sided with her saying ‘pinch of salt’ to her about what this other lady was saying.

I’ve been there.  It hurts, it’s frightening and it shouldn’t happen.  The lady was saying that she wanted a transfer because she was being bullied by staff and patients.  It certainly sounded that way this morning.  I’m not saying it because I am perfect, but because I am equally vulnerable in this situation.

This evening I started singing, quietly, ‘the king is in the all together’.  I’ve never realised its full meaning before.  At first it wasn’t intentional.

How Useful is Philosophy?

When I was in my 20s I was aware of a stereotyped response people came out with about the usefulness of philosophy, ie that it was probably no use at all when it came to the practicalities of life.  In that stereotype people who wanted to study philosophy were asked what use it would be for anything.

I was just thinking about that.  I haven’t given it much time before writing, maybe only about 10 minutes.

The conclusion I came to was that every life action comes out of an underlying philosophy, whether conscious or unconscious.  That people who say they have no time for philosophy are unconsciously adopting that of pragmatism, though they would deny they are moved by any philosophical position at all.

In Colossians 2:8 it says that they should not let anyone take them captive through hollow and deceptive philosophy because in Christ we have fullness.  In the context of the chapter it says that.  I have been wary of philosophy for many years on the strength of that, as have many others.  I have thought, with many others, that true Christianity and conversion was what was needed.

He does say ‘hollow and deceptive’ though, and one hopes that he is not putting all of philosophy into that bracket.  Jesus is the way, the truth and the life.  It is true that no one comes to the Father but by Him.  Among His disciples He always preached non-violence, though He acknowledged that those who did not embrace His teaching would go to war but that the disciples were not to be afraid because wars were bound to happen.

There are many who would resent the Christian position, unadorned, being thrust into their faces as the solution to life.  I think that an awareness and understanding of philosophy is at least a bridge in cross-cultural communication between Christians and non-Christians and the arguments for the Christian position can be found in and through other philosophies which people who would consider themselves anti-Christian and anti-religion would engage with more readily.

It must be the ultimate in unaccountability to say that we recognise no philosophy or religion at all.  I think it is true to say that there can be no lasting peace without recognition on both sides of an immovable higher authority to which each side submits itself throughout.  So I find myself unable to reconcile Jesus’ statement that there would be wars with the Church of England prayer ‘give peace in our time, oh Lord’, because different people groups do not recognise the same authority, and each people group recognises its authority in ways that make them at odds with others in their communities.

So is God just an imposition of the strong on the weak?  Having experienced many things, including physical healing, I cannot say so.  To me it is not enough to say that everyone has the power to heal and not refer that power back to a giver, especially as the healing I received was in a Christian context.

But I do think that people who have no time for religion or philosophy are dangerous people to be in control.

I think I started thinking about this today after listening to a Noam Chomsky recording on Napster, about mafia and hegemony.

What Is Disablism?

After my last post I thought I had better check and see, though it seemed obvious, what disablism is.  I put ‘what is disablism’ into Google and the search came up with some sites, including this one from a feminist perspective.  I would add to it that disablism is saying that everything you say about your social situation and background is false because you are judged to have a mental illness.  Or is it that you are lying about your life so you must be mentally ill?  Though I’ve been completely honest and said nothing which isn’t true.

I talked about Emily Pankhurst in my first meeting with my psychiatrist here and I was told not to start on that one, though I meant it earnestly with all my heart and mind.  I said she had not fought for women’s rights and suffrage for women in power to subjugate other women or define them as they did not wish to be defined.  They dismissed it as the ploy of a mentally ill person who would use anything to get out of the psychiatric situation.

‘What Is Disablism’  is a good search to put into Google.  I have only used the first result but there are others of interest.

Hillsborough Report

On Wednesday it was reported on Radio 4 that around 100 police statements were altered following the Hillsborough disaster and the situation was made to look like the fault of the public rather than the police.  Someone speaking on Radio 4 said that they did not normally believe conspiracy theories but that this time it was evident.

But that fact has taken all these years to be established and be reported.

To me it seems reasonable to believe that there are many other conspiracy theories which are equally true, including the conspiracy of the mental health system and its brutal approach to helping people to deal with their mental health problems, relationship problems, emotional problems.

I say therapy which is therapy is consenting, and nothing involuntary can fit that description or be ultimately therapeutic (unless it is shock therapy or reality therapy, but then is it really therapy, or just more repression/suppression and ‘learning your lesson’?).

Twenty-three years after Hillsborough this has come out, though the event is over and done with.  For people enmeshed in the mental health system it is ongoing and some do not survive.  People have been killed by inappropriate restraint methods and application, as well as by death at their own hands for others, preferring, I suppose, to die at their own hands rather than to keep going through the seemingly endless cycle of crisis and hospital admissions where the facts they know of their lives, better than the mental health service staff do, are often invalidated and contradicted by the insistence on a mental health diagnosis. 

I have recently felt hopeless and helpless and that, if I were a different person, I might kill myself rather than continue to go through this cycle.  I did deliberately overdose once, in 2003.  I took almost 100 paracetamol and lay down to sleep, not caring whether I woke or not.  I woke and stumbled into the kitchen and vomited.  The church I was going to at the time didn’t know this, but it was just before I was confirmed.  I ended up in hospital on a drip.

I have heard since Wednesday another programme on Radio 4 talking about the IPCC (Independent Police Complaints Commission) and the experience of some that it has failed to deliver for them.  I have only approached them about one thing and I didn’t follow it through to the end.  I tried, but the police service was not very co-operative and I ended up leaving it because of other more immediate pressures.

I spoke to one of the nurses recently and told her that the support I needed was legal support in the community when situations arose which I had not contributed to in the locality and which were a disturbance to me.  I mentioned that the police are supposed to do something after the third report from one individual, and she said that what they did would not necessarily be what the individual wanted and that they would not necessarily interpret the situation as the individual did.  She also said that the police are a law to themselves, a statement which could be interpreted her evasion of the issue, among other possibilities.

So Anyway, last Wednesday . . .

My advocate and I went into the review meeting with Dr Jaffur and Alison, the ward manager.  When we came out we both agreed that the two staff had not been open to changing their intentions with regard to forced medication.  My advocate suggested that I could be moved to another ward and Alison said she I didn’t have a good relationship with any of the staff and that she thought I would always feel harassed.  I suppose the facts and what I think about that don’t matter.  Their position as stated was that they just wanted me better, and that if the medication was not taken orally they would inject.  When I asked when the medication was going to start, after the review meeting, Alison said in a really confrontational way ‘it starts right now’.  I found it so confrontational that I asked her if she was trying to get me into a state where several people could hold me down and inject me.

So I have capitulated and am taking the medication orally, in spite of the fact that my previous reasons for not wanting to take it remain.  Being forced to take medication against your wishes is bullying, which the trust says it does not tolerate.

Last week the possibility of forced injection was being held over me as a threat (threat is the right word).  I asked the nurse last night what would happen if I were to refuse medication now, if I would be injected, and he said no, an injection was no longer there as an option.  But if I refuse again now I am afraid (fear is something else the trust literature says the trust does not tolerate) that they would go straight to injection and keep it that way, and withdraw the oral option.

In the meantime, I am exhausted, worrying about relationships on the ward, as if they are the most important thing in my life; worrying about my financial situation, especially with regard to my belongings in storage and the fact that my benefits are due to go down now I have been so long in hospital.  Occasionally I recall that what I reported around my home has not yet received any signs of being taken seriously and would therefore be likely to recur in any future tenancies.

Alison says she sees no sign of any harassment.  Maybe that is because she isn’t out of her office and among us when that is happening.  Or maybe it is deliberate blind eyes and deaf ears.  I have told them everything and there is nothing else to tell.  If anyone is being disingenuous in this, it is not me.  I have noticed that several of the staff use false personalities.  Knowing that makes me not even want to try to relate to them.  Also, if it is true that I don’t have a good relationship with any of the staff, as Alison said, it might be possible that that is because I see them as upholding and enabling a totalitarian and abusive mental health system.  They know my beliefs about this, so it shouldn’t be put down to a failing in methat I don’t have a good relationship with any of the staff, if that is true.  Also, some of them are there just for the money and don’t want to work.  They are happy if we are not visible because we feel so threatened and disrespected by them.  They just mess around until it is time for them to go home.

I’ve just finished the 1st chapter of ‘The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner.  In places I have found it hilarious and I anticipate a good read.  The protagonist is from Nottingham, in a Borstal, at this point.  I don’t know anything about the book or where he ends up in his thinking.  He talked (he is the narrative voice) about having seen the knife held by those in authority over him when they put him in a Borstal.  Being of a basically law-abiding temperament I want him to have changed his thinking and position about a lot of things he is sure about, including his belief that the authorities are his enemies and always will be, by the end of the book.  In the meantime, I am loving it.

My laptop needs mending.  Hard drive disk inaccessible.  Have just submitted a form.  I’m typing in the library.

Jessica Blake (with apologies and sympathy)

Looks a bit like me and a bit like one of the ward nurses, Jessica. I have recently downloaded some William Blake, who I spent a lot of time on when I was studying for my English BA.  The same time PC Blakelock was killed in the Tottenham riots in the 80s after the death of a Mrs Jarrett, which was the name of another lecturer on that course.  I expressed my concerns in an email last year, or via the website, to the police.  That is not the first time my concerns have gone unanswered.  AOL today is the first time I have seen Jessica’s picture, I don’t watch tv in the tv room as a rule, it is too difficult and disruptive/competitive.  I also realised for the first time the other day that one of the Moors murders victims was called Keith Bennett, almost the same as my father’s name which I had told the assessment doctor the day before his mother died.

My psychiatrists, who have done some brutal and inadequate assessments on me over the last 2 weeks since I tried to discharge myself as was my right and they put me back on a section 3, are determined to forcibly medicate me.  They are tapping into the animal desperation in me and I believe there is potential for their actions to do more psychological harm than chemical good.  They are also disregarding the decision of my former trust that I was obviously not going to change my mind so they were no longer going to force the issue.  I had a conversation with one of my key nurses today who said they were seeing t as a fresh situation.  But I am the same person and should be respected for myself and the professional decision of those who have dealt with me before respected.  I have had such rudeness from some of them that I believe this is largely revenge for my blogging.  In spite of the fact I asked for help twice in my situation after I got into it with temporary housing, and didn’t get it, regardless of the fact Iwrote 8 pages saying why we would need help before I was even given the accommodation, on which they eventually changed the locks while I was in hospital without telling anyone, and that none of the decisions they have made have been communicated to me in writing – in spite of what my nurse said are the irregularities of the situation, these unreasonable people want to start again a battle which I have already won, after not knowing the serious and untrue accusations being made against me,with another trust.  My tribunal was successful.

I just walked in to a hotel reception where 4 men were standing, one of them saying ‘have you got any pussy organised’.  These people are animals of the lowest order.  I feel sick and frightened here, this place is evil and alien.  This is a Hilton hotel, but it is just like the worst pub people dressed up.  A few plush seats around, and men giving unwanted attention to an 11 month homeless woman who has no privacy at the moment to use the internet or anything else.

There are abusive relationships on the ward.  I think some of the staff have been willing to turn a blind eye to some of the harassment I’ve had from some patients because they know I am deliberately not naming patients.  Last weekend when I was re-sectioned I stayed in my room and didn’t eat, and they were not too worried about it.  Twice this week I have said that I did not want to go to the dining ro to be served by Errol because of his abusiveness towards me, and twice, including today, I was made to miss a meal because they would not support my attempt to protect myself.  As far as they are concerned, if there is a problem, it is me.  My nurse said that if they had done as I had asked and got my lunch for me it would have been seen as collaborating with me.  I am there involuntarily and under threat of forced medication and not being able to afford to get my food elsewhere, but also not being willing to subject myself to such a negative experience, or fudge and compromise and basically what is brainwashing if I am expected to go through that, and they are paid people employed by the trust.  If I allow myself to be subjected to harassment or assault, knowing that that is what it is, how does that show good mental health?  They said they would be collaborating with me if they enabled me to get some lunch, and they would not let me leave when I had a right without re-sectioning me (which interestingly was on Julian Assange day)and I have been saying repeatedly that my storage costs are nearly £100 per month and I need to stop the payments and have a home.  On the day they would not let me leave, police helicopters flew over the hospital.  That has happened before.  Big Brother re-enacted the Julian Assange situation in the embassy, with Julian Cleary and the woman off East Enders that I have been told looks like me.  I haven’t seen it, but I heard about it on the radio, and several staff came in exuding warmth and stuff at me.  I was angry that night.  I said the helicopters were about me, that it had happened when I first got there.  I shouted ‘God bless Julian Assange’.  For the first time I saw the footage where he shook hands with someone I had spoken to at London Occupy.  I’ve written about him elsewhere on this blog.  I told the staff that they were my captors, not my friends, and that I was terrified of them.

I feel betrayed by everyone who has ever put out anything which seemed positive towards me.  I feel as if they want me with my head psychologically kicked in.  I can’t go through this, and they can’t let me, without damage to my ability to relate to them.

My solicitor got in touch with the advocacy service for representation for me at last Friday’s review meeting.  On Wednesday the advocate phoned to say she couldn’t make it.  A message was left which was not relayed to me.  I didn’t know until Friday morning that no one was available.  On Friday afternoon Dr Fahy’s SHO told me that the next review would be next Friday and that from then I would be medicated, forcibly if necessary.  Today my nurse told me that the review and the medication has been written up for Wednesday, although she said Friday and that is what I have been preparing myself for.

I have submitted a complaint to the address given on the trust website, 3 times now over the last week or 2.  It says you should receive a response within 3 days.  I have received nothing.

I think these people are unscrupulous and will hurt me with compulsory medication if they can, whatever is going through in terms of asking my closest relative to apply for discharge for me (which need not be granted) at the time.  They have said it is not that they consider me a danger to myself or anyone else, but that they believe I have an illness that would benefit from medication, and are worried about what would happen if the same home situation occurred again, as if I had not asked for help and been failed by the authorities.  I said it wouldn’t occur again unless I was failed by the authorities when I asked for help again.  And as for a sickness that might be helped by medication – there are many medical professionals who do not take psychiatry seriously.  But a lay person in their power does not and they go to dehumanise them and denude them anyway.  I have lost most of my life to them, including the last of my reproductive years.  I have no partner and no children and now will not be able to have children.  This is a major trauma and grief for me which will never pass, and they want to add more abuse to it.  This is more like an irrational form of veterinary practice than medicine which should be practiced on a human being In the deep grief of childlessness and knowing that a lot of the blame lies at the doors of the authorities, including the NHS.  Do no harm, is that part of the oath?

‘Odd Thoughts’ Pocket Post

A few thoughts:

Coercive medicine is totalitarianism.  In itself and perhaps an expression of political or ideological totalitarianism and dictatorship.  In spite of all our fine words about freedom and a free society.  In practice it is not true.

Maintenance of the status quo.  I was thinking that policing approaches a person and a problem according to the way an area is generally defined and operates.  So rather than deal with violence and harassment and hate crime in what they have decided already is a rough area, they will just take out the person complaining.

However, in my case, after phoning the beat officer several times as instructed on my first approach to an officer who seemed very kind and reasonable, a message was left on my phone offering an appointment that I missed because of the way the welcome to messages was set up.  I got the impression from the company’s message that, before I could pick up my messages, I had to first input my name and other information vocally, and I didn’t want to do it at home and didn’t get round to it anywhere else, so I didn’t pick up the message offering me an appointment for the previous Sunday until I was in hospital, and after that nothing happened, I didn’t follow it up.

I was wondering if an individual has to be ‘part’ of something in the area to be taken seriously.

I’m in a different Caffe Nero today.  I’m wondering if staff in these places always set out to dominate, or run riot, with loud twittering and miaowing.  It is a great shame, they offer something which they sabotage and make unusable, at least for me.  Maybe they deliberately try to provoke me for the name check.  I think I have seen Coppelia use her face and eyes more naturally.

I always feel I have to be careful what I let myself be provoked into saying in hospital.  I feel as if they will use anything to get people back on a section.  I speak and the staff stop speaking in a straight line – some of them, anyway.  It isn’t only the staff that are entitled to be safe at their place of work, we the users are also, but most of us feel that as soon as we become subject to them we are not safe.  It feels like ‘no anger/negativity (from you) we’re bulies/too insecure’.

 

As I said yesterday, more to follow.

The first time I met this man I didn’t find it disturbing, unduly.  He was on dinner duty and I realised he must be Richard, but for some reason I didn’t use his name.  He started singing ‘Horse With No Name’ and I corrected the situation as quickly as possible.  I thought he was making a point about me not having asked his name, so I decided it was right to give him what I thought he was asking for.

However, that is his usual behaviour, he can be heard from one end of the ward to the other, booming out, slurring his speech, looking rough, playing tag with my speech and maybe that of others.  I’ve noticed that if he is around and I start to regain any feeling of speaking normally and sensibly, maybe making a decision on the spot as I was trying to yesterday, he will interject, follow and pick up the way I speak wherever it goes, loudly, obtrusively and slurring and in a way which causes me communicative and emotional distress because of the outrage and shock every time it happens, quite apart from what I believe is the unprofessionalism and the corporate denial among anyone I raise it with on the staff that it could conceivably be a problem to anyone.

My immediate concern for myself is that this kind of harassment could put me at risk of being put back on a section, since no protection from it or cessation is offered.  He presents like a drunk at the moment, is totally defiant about it and I’m not sure how he s getting away with it.  He often sings ‘Still Crazy After All These Years’, and given the situation I don’t find it funny. He sings it as if to himself while he is walking on the ward.  Sometimes I tell myself I should have more of a sense of humour about it.  It is what some people would expect of me.

I’m not sure what he is trying to communicate by this, but I believe he is doing it wrong and that he should stop or lose his position.  He is routinely hurting people and he must know that.  If he doesn’t know and won’t be told I think he is not fit for the job.  Though that could be said of many.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~//~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yesterday I had a review with Dr Khan.  Dr Fahy was absent for reasons I couldn’t ascertain.  I asked if what was described as an ‘off’ day was bad off or planned off, and he said he didn’t know, or words to that effect.

We chatted quite happily about things I can’t much remember, until we got to the issue of my room.  I said that, at home, something doesn’t happen at 10 and at 2 to force me out of my home environment into another I don’t want to be in, or haven’t chosen to be in, unless it is an act of harassment and violence.  He said did I experience it as harassment and I said yes.  I can’t remember if I pointed out, yet again, that I am 9 months homeless and counting and that people need a sense of home.  I think I did.

He started to present a picture to me which is, I think, given that they know my position on the issue, insulting and unhelpful.  I am as intellectually able as them and it seems to me that presenting a factual requirement as a picture is an invasion of my right to be separate.  I’m not sure if he thought I couldn’t or wouldn’t understand without a picture or not.

The picture was that the government requires everyone to pay income tax.  I contradicted him straight away and said it doesn’t require me to pay income tax because I am on benefits, and I said his illustration had broken down already because the basis of it was incorrect.  We were arguing and he was saying I wouldn’t let him finish.  If I want a 69 to Bulwell I don’t get on a 28 to Bilborough.  My analytical skills, and also my basic respect for people, is obviously better than his.  I left the room while he was still objecting, and I answered that he was pig headed and opinionated.

I got into a conversation with a nurse about it, she had been in the room at my request.  I asked her what he meant, eventually, and she said she didn’t know and I finished the sentence for her in a way I felt appropriate, that it was because she wasn’t party to the situation.  She said no, because I didn’t let him finish, and that I often finish sentences for her and I am wrong.  But at the time she seemed to be agreeing.  If she had said I was wrong at the time I would have asked her what she had actually meant.

Long and short, I realised he might have been going on to say that the government requires everyone to pay tax but there are exceptions.  That was the only understanding with which I could justify what he had said.  I saw him in the corridor and said sorry, did I misunderstand what you were saying, and he said yes, but don’t take it personally.  He didn’t take that opportunity to have a further conversation or to communicate the fact behind his illustration.  Consequently, because of that and because of the inconsistency of application of the policy anyway, I realised today that I am afraid of just about everything I am doing and everything I am not doing.

This morning Sharon and Sonia came to my room, and I said that I thought Alison was OK with me staying in my room, because last week I had referred someone back to Alison, who knows my personal reasons for me wanting control of my space, and she didn’t come back.  I had said that I assumed that if she didn’t come back then the situation was OK.  But Sharon insisted and said that that was what the doctor had said yesterday.  That psychologically stopped me dead.  She said that the only reason people are allowed to stay in their rooms was if they were physically ill.  I had started off talking with my toothbrush still going in my mouth and when I stopped she moaned (that is a description of the way she spoke) that I hadn’t objected before to speaking with my toothbrush in my mouth, and she kept me going until I closed the shower and toilet door on her.  She said she wasn’t going to argue with me and I said that was exactly what she was doing.  She seemed satisfied to walk away when I was in full flow emotionally.  I said she was bullying me, and when she contradicted me I called her an un-self-aware bully and closed the door.  She later came back with a letter I haven’t opened yet and told me she was leaving it on my bed.  I think it is from Nottingham City Homes and I hope it is written notification of their decision not to house me because I didn’t give information of a close enough connection to Nottingham.  If it is that I can begin to appeal.

But I’ve been thinking today.  I believe the law recognises a right to privacy, and that the doctor isn’t above the law.  If the law recognises a right to privacy on my own terms I don’t believe I lose that right just because I am in hospital.  Outside we have a right not to be in a situation or an environment we don’t want to be.  We have the right, even if most of us don’t have the monetary power to back up that right.  We have a right to leave a bad situation.  The only ability some people have on the ward to exercise that right is to be able to access their room when they want to, and not to be dragged out of it in the name of ward policy.  There is no supervision of those out of room times and anyone can pick on people or be picked.

Also, medical care is supposed to be patient centred.  We are on a ward because we are supposed to be ill, albeit mentally.  Some of that mental illness has come about in the first place because people’s rights haven’t been respected and observed.  People know when they need to rest or want privacy.  We are the best judges of our own needs.  People shouldn’t be shunted out of their rooms against their wishes, en masse, like a herd of cattle.  Most people on the ward, in my opinion, are wondering around disturbed or disturbing people exactly because we are being treated like that.  People come out when they want to, when it comes to private space.  Rather than respecting it, they have turned it into a war zone subject to random attacks.  I think the policy is wrong, not just the inconsistency of its application.  That is why I am against it.  You don’t force people out of their private space, physically or any other way, unless you want disturbed people.  That is common sense and common sense is good, because that is about our being, not separate from it.

Dr Fahy asked me to do her a favour and not name people.  But when you are subject to abuse or in fear of future abuse that is your only protection.  People don’t listen if you keep it internal.  Alison said I could talk to her.  Even the inconsistency of approach is not consistent to good mental health.  If Alison is OK with me being in my room then I need the raids to stop when they do happen.  It is like an act of war.  I’m so upset about my space I don’t get other things done. If Alison is supposed to be the last word on the ward and she is OK with me keeping my space, no one should be overriding that.  Maybe there is a power struggle going on on the ward.  If so, it shouldn’t be played out on the patients.  I knocked on her door twice today and no one answered.  When the door was opened there was a room full of people.  I felt I needed to apologise for not realising there was a handover or something.  I don’t know what it was.  Maybe it was a group of people unhappy with my blog entry yesterday.

I asked for some complaint forms today as well, but it appeared that in the office they didn’t have any.  First they didn’t seem to know where to look, then they offered me a plain piece of paper, which could easily be misplaced after being given in.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~//~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I thought about the rights and powers, and the fact that most people can’t afford to avail themselves of their right to determine their own lives and leave bad situations or places of work.  “If you don’ t like your job find another”.  Yeah, right.  If a person’s job was bad for their well-being, if they were being bullied and having lots of time off sick because of it, could they leave and not forfeit benefits by leaving themselves if they couldn’t walk straight into another job?  Could they resign on a principle and be respected for doing so by the benefits agencies?  I think it was six weeks benefit you forfeited if you left a job of your own accord without another one to go to, when I was in my 20s.  For most people acts of principle are a luxury.  I was thinking about Tony Blair, who could step down from his position and never work again without loss to the essentials of daily life. Yet he chooses to work.  People on lecture tours, special representatives of this and that.  The populace needs more confidence and interest to do the job without specials.  I was thinking that Tony Blair is a special peace envoy, rightly or wrongly, when the way to not have war is obvious – don’t start one.  A special representative is just a media figure, isn’t it?

I was thinking about people with all those privileges and all those properties and all that money calling people who can barely make ends meet, in real terms, in terms of real independence, scroungers.  Mocking us by saying we have rights without ensuring our power to avail ourselves of them.

I was thinking the other day that the mental health services are just a way of controlling people who start to feel their power and express it legally.  A way of controlling the emerging classes’.  Is that SWP/Marxist thinking?  Whatever the thought and words, the reality is the same.  They call it delusions of grandeur when you try to empower yourself against what is happening to you, and until the birth of the bloggosphere it has gone largely unchallenged by people in the thick of it, in any public way.  Demonstrations can’t happen every day.

It was said a few years ago on the radio that there is enough land in our country for every single person to have 7 acres to themselves.

Something else I was thinking about today was the verse in Proverbs where it says that someone who involves themselves in someone else’s argument is like a man who grasps a dog by the ears.  I was thinking of that in relation to Premier Radio and the Church.  Behold how great a matter a little fire kindleth.  I would not have been hurt so much or have lost so much important in my life if various spiritual authorities had not used their platforms to chase me down, and if secular authorities had done their job with equal regard to anti-discrimination and anti-prejudice laws.

I’ve got an interview with people to help with housing tomorrow on the ward.  I hope that goes well.  It has been organised for me and I was told it might take 2 weeks from referral to meeting,but it is less than one week.  So that is a good thing, I hope.

I was just talking and thinking about the perversity of my situation, that after clearing my flat on Friday I was released from my section on the Monday, so now I can take off all the time I want in one day I have been told that if I went overnight I would lose my room because of high demand.  I’ve got an idea.  Respect people and treat them well all the time and they might never need to come back!  If we weren’t put in the loony bin in the first place instead of receiving proper communication and acknowledgment that would be better.

Redwood 2 Care Plan

Name Susan Barnett :                                                                                                                                                               Rio :

Mobile Phone care plan

Current Issue

Susan has been accessing a blog page via internet to which she has been breaching confidentiality by naming specific patients and staff.  Susan was informed of the seriousness of this incident, to which Susan expressed she will continue to utilise the blog. Due to this Susan (sic) phone has been placed in the safe and is accessible under supervision.  Due to the risk of her utilising the internet via her phone.

Aims and objectives:

– To be able to monitor Susan, whilst using her phone ensuring confidentiality isn’t breached.
– To help Susan appreciate the seriousness of confidentiality both, from staff and to staff.

Patients (sic) Objective:

– To have an understanding, and awareness of confidentiality.

Nursing Objective and treatment plan:

– To maintain safety of staff and patients
– To educate Susan of the importance of positive communication with her social world

– For Susan to use her phone supervised by staff.
– For Susan’s phone to be stored in the safe
– to be reviewed in weekly review on 25/06/12

Date to be reviewed: weekly in review

(young female staff nurse and young male student named as signatories)
Date: 22/06/12
Signed: (by me)

End of document.

I was called into an immediate confrontation in the staff office as soon as I walked through the door after the leave in which I wrote my last post.  What this document does not say is that, because they had found and read my blog (at least bits) without me having given them details of its name or whereabouts – and contrary to the insistence of someone, it cannot be found just by looking up details for Highbury Hospital; I tried that myself and gave up looking for anything from my blog after page 6 of the search, though it came up immediately in the first 2 or 3 results when I entered a qualifier – They also took all my leave away, so I was confined to the ward over the weekend until I was reviewed on the following Monday.  Before I signed it – I didn’t consider if I had an option given the pressure and apparent anger in the room, where they told me their complaint/concern was going higher – I made all the notes on it which I had raised in conversation, that as someone who is not a staff member I am not bound to recognise or abide by a duty of confidentiality, I have not entered into a willing contract with them – ever over the last 16 years.  I pointed out that my phone and blog were separate and that my phone was used only for calls which were supposed to be private.  I wrote I hadn’t named patients – I think I have been careful not to.  I also wrote at the bottom “I believe this is an illegal restriction, provocation intimidation (sic lack of ‘and’) and the staff will know that to be true”.

I had a reasonable weekend with 2 of the staff in particular, and I am not sure why the next decision was made, but on the Monday I was discharged from my section and made informal, thus having as much leave as I choose to take (which often works out to be less than I would have taken when I had a restricted allocation).  I also, from Monday, started refusing my medication, and until today I don’t think I have handled myself badly, but now I have been angry at a really outrageous and out of order (so I believe) staff member, and before that I was expressing distress to a female staff member who knows what he is like, and though he seemed to me to be imposing himself on my speech and conversation from the office without actual involvement, she received everything I said in silence until one imposition too many made me snap at him, saying he was out of order and my anger was not.  This, however, makes me feel afraid of what the consequences of that might be, and that is how many of them get away with so much bad behaviour and unprofessionalism.  There is sometimes a psychological subliminality to what they do, resulting in stronger feelings than if it was up front, in my opinion, which is lay.  IE the ordinary person who experiences it.

More to follow.

This Moment IS

The staff on the ward have found my blog, without me giving them the address but saying angrily a few times that I was going to blog.  The ward manager collared me twice, once quite softly and the second time in a way which made me feel they wanted to take my computer and my leave away.  The second time she approached me with 2 other female staff members and in public.  She said she wanted to talk about my use of my computer on the ward.  I said it was music and that I have no internet connection on the ward.  She asked me quite crossly where I wrote my blog and how I wrote it and I pointed out that I have 5 1/2 hours total off the ward and I go where I can get a connection and that I have the same freedoms as everyone else in that time.  They said they did not like having their names associated with certain things.  I said that I have things associated with my name which I don’t like also, and that they were free to write or comment.  It was probably in that context that she said that it was a matter of confidentiality, but I took it to mean that she was saying I was breaking a duty of confidentiality which I was quick to point out that I do not have but that they do.  They talked about seeking advice.  I said OK.  I hope if and when they do the outcome will make a big difference in society and for people who are held against their wishes and with other forms of abuse, harassment and bullying thrown in.

This is good.

They saw me coming towards the office/ward exit this afternoon and it seemed to me they deliberately closed the office door and I stood outside knocking with them ignoring me.  This happens often.  The staff last night were calling people rude.  I’m not sure who they meant.  At the time it seemed it was obvious they meant me.

2 nights ago a woman had 2 separate instances of being forcibly medicated.  Hefty men called and involved, on an all-female ward.  If anyone knows how that is appropriate I would appreciate the feedback through comments.  She said they had hurt her hand and it was all swollen and red.  I know I have been there, in London.  It took 6 months for my hand to stop hurting, and the man doing it at the time, when I said he was hurting me, said ‘well, you will learn your lesson, then, won’t you?’  I was never contemptuous of my own life until I felt betrayed by the church and came under the psychiatric services.

We appear to have a large degree of revolt and anarchy on the ward at the moment.  Everyone is angry and the staff are, to my mind, often unprofessional.  Everyone knows what is happening but the staff say nothing, and I think most of us patients know they know more than they are allowing us to be party to and that, if we were allowed to be party to the staff’s knowledge of what everyone knows, a lot of things might be called into question.  Just a thought.

This blog is exactly what it says in the title, that and nothing else – the thoughts and observations of a certified nut.  Why would anyone want to seek advice over that?

Did I say that I had had a bad week as a vegan last week?  I was tempted again earlier this week but I talked myself through it.  I went through the ‘so I’ll feel guilty’ bit and realised afresh that it is about the suffering or death or utilisation of an animal in a way which is not ideal.  I decided we are different from most of the animal world in that we have a conscience and can think, philosophise and moralise about our behaviour.  I had tears in my eyes as I thought it through.  I was happy about that.  It is about the animal and about me, living according to my light.

Jesus is wonderful and I love Him.  He ate fish.  I’m not sure how to harmonise that.  It is said that the prophets were vegetarian and that the Essenes were also.  And I believe it is right not to use animals.  So I can’t deal with the Jesus and fish thing – not at all, in that context.  I think I was taught at Bible College that John the Baptist was an Essene.  So while they might have said ‘but Jesus ate fish so it isn’t wrong’, why would John the Baptist have lived by a higher morality?  We were told that when it says JTB ate locusts, it actually means the locust bean, and not the insect.

More Tales from the Redwoods

My mind is all jumbled today, it has been pretty packed with activities and observations.

The smoking square is right outside my bedroom and people raise their voices at my radio, even though it isn’t loud.  It makes concentration hard.  Blow it, it makes just listening hard.

I had a review today.  I asked them to decrease what they have been giving me for anxiety because I am walking around feeling the same as I used to when I was on sleeping medication every night in London.

They have left my leave as it is, 1 x 4 hours to break up and use as I want, plus 3 x 1/2 hour for local shops etc.

They also told me they wanted to increase my olansapine.  We got into a heated discussion about that.  They talked about ideas that I was being harassed, and I pointed out that they didn’t live with me and why were they so insistent on calling it ideas instead of accepting it as reality.  Dr Khan, the SHO who was conducting proceedings today although Dr Fahy was there, asked why I thought I was the only person being harassed and I said I didn’t, but he insisted that I had said that, and I said I hadn’t and insisted that I didn’t think that.  He asked why I thought I was so important that this could be happening to me, and I said he was being rude and asked him why he thought I was so unimportant that it couldn’t be.  He asked who I thought was doing it and I said how could I know if it was organised crime.  He asked me why I thought they were doing it which, as all illegitimate and out of bounds questions do, left me feeling hit in the head, and I said I didn’t know and that what mattered was that it was happening, not why.

Dr Fahy, or Dr Khan (I can’t remember now) said they were also worried about the level and degree of distress it was causing to me and people around me and she tried to fnish her sentence before I came back at that, which I insisted on doing, and I pointed out that the distress comes from other people before it comes from me, that if it were not started from others I would be happy. I didn’t get the opportunity I wanted to say that the degree of distress is because they always handle me like this and that they were giving me no hope or protection for the future.  But afterwards I wondered what they thought was the maximum degree of distress allowable in my circumstances.

I did my laundry this afternoon.  I went to the office to ask someone to unlock the door for me so I could get it out.  Jess was there with a big fluffy bear slipper or something.  They didn’t even look in my direction as I knocked, but she started touching the slipper or whatever it was in what, on a real animal, might have been its private parts.  On purpose, it looked like, and continued to not acknowledge me.  When she came to the door she had a really strange smile on her face.  I later remembered when Tommy Boyd had talked about licking the underparts of a badger, I think he said, to cure a headache.  That people used to do it and it worked.  He used to say that he wondered how people first got the idea.  Or was it a beaver?  The first time I heard him refer to the badger or beaver was the night after I had broken down in sobs, years ago, waiting for the phone to pick up the other end, or something, phoning someone else (I don’t have his private number), and the next day he played something which sounded like me sobbing the previous night and asked people to guess what it was.  Someone said it sounded like a woman crying, but he later declared it to be the sound of a badger or beaver.  I can’t remember if anyone got it.

He also played this game with Allison Ferns with the Queen song, ‘Don’t Stop Me Now’, where he kept stopping it as it was building up and Allison was getting frustrated.  I remembered that after catching some of the Steve Wright show this afternoon on Radio 2 and thinking that they were deliberately reproducing the action of dopamine or seratonin blockers, verbally, bringing it up to interest level then smashing it down so I, at least, was not able to maintain the interest and the thought that came from it.  It made me angry.  It was the first time I had thought of what they were doing in that way, as reproducing the action of dopamine and seratonin blockers.

While they are playing these coy, or not so coy, games, a programme is on Radio 4 tomorrow at 9pm called ‘All In the Mind’, which is going to look at the ‘fact’, so they say, that between five and seven people die every week under a mental health section.  This is not something to play with.  It isn’t fair.  I’ve taken every baseball game position possible to ask for help or if I can help, over the years, and I’m now wondering why.

AOL is featuring a story of the queen with a bloodshot eye, and a piece of film where Prince Philip first looks at the camera then looks into his binoculars.  I’m not sure if there is any actual connection with the fact that Tommy Boyd has one eye he can’t see much out of because he said he was bitten by a dolphin, I think.

Being a write bloody bitch is hard.

Mine is not to reason why
Mine is but to write or die

Or risk trying to explore these things in a real face to face

Or try to retrieve any chance of a relationship buried under my cowardice and shit.

One woman has been on this acute ward for about a year.  Another for two.  So they have said.

A lookalike of a new patient, who is in turn a lookalike of Dorothy Shearman, came on Come Dine With Me this afternoon.  Everyone reacted, silently.  We are afraid to be the first to say anything in case no one else joins us.

I really think the drugs companies and the psychiatrists are knowingly dependent on each other, to some extent, for their living and have no wish to rock the boat with real reality.  The obviousness of it is so filling my mind with words to speak of it that I can only reduce it down to ‘disgusting’.  Love covers everything except organised abuse and agreed cowardice.

These places are awful.  They see the expression of fear or anger or like emotions as things demanding to be medicated, not as an opening to a meaningful conversation with another human being.  Very roudy lady on the ward at the moment.  Threw a few things around, was screaming last night.  She has my sympathy,  The quality of some screams make you want to go to the person and help them.  She came in trying to be friendly, placatory, I suppose, but before long she was screaming.

I was thinking that they lock us up in these places in an enforced codependency.  They want us to be like them, and insofar as we are not, and the authorities can be made to look as if they permit us to be treated this way, they lock us up until we are a bit more like them, or whoever else it was that wanted to get us sectioned.  I can’t even spell this word, but it is a form of eugenics.  Tommy Boyd had some conversations on the radio about this subject.

I was thinking today that, if Tommy had confidence in me way back then and he is, as he has said, anti all the labelling of ordinary human behaviour and emotions as mental illness – if he had confidence in me and I didn’t respond as he had hoped, it might be right that I recognise that I have contributed to suffering and suicide over all the time I have been listening to him, which might have been prevented.  If these places are, as I keep saying, the UK’s concentration camps.

I have mixed feelings, always, about this.  Today there was a story about someone being force-fed because she did not have the capacity to make a decision herself. These are the kinds of stories which make me stop and think that maybe the psychiatric profession as we know it is necessary, even for those of us who are unwilling, because our fear of something so emotive and identity-challenging as being called mentally ill blinds us to the necessity of the treatment plans enforced.

If that is right then bang goes my assertion that medicine without consent is not medicine, ad that these places should only be fore people who are there voluntarily and no coersion should ever be used.

Maybe this is and should be a different issue from the incessant inconsistencies of application of policy and procedure within the institution, and the cruelty, contempt and violence, psychological and otherwise.

I don’t know.  There have been plenty of times that I have wanted to scream in distress and anger but have not dared for fear of the ‘consequences’.  I put that word in inverted commas, because so often I have heard parents say that children need to be taught that undesired behaviour has consequences, by which they mean a forfeit or a pnishment, sometimes physical.  If the consequences of behaviour are not inherent in the behaviour anything negative a person says is necessary for the offender to feel is not direct from the behaviour and therefore has nothing to do with it.

I’m tired.  I know there is more I want to write but I can’t think at the moment.

I talked to someone at a day centre in Chichester once, asking her if she knew of Tommy Boyd.  She said she didn’t like him and had heard him say that all psychiatric patients should be locked up.  I have a problem with this because I don’t know what to think of it.  I didn’t hear him say it.  And he has often said he sometimes says things to be provocative.  I didn’t hear him say it.  And he has had access to some of the essays I wrote for my English degree.

I keep being angry and ashamed, at the moment, of the ‘fact’ that I have been so arrogant and conceited towards Tommy, thinking he was taking from me rather than that he was representing to me what I had already learned, and also things of his own.  My heart twists when I think how hard he was trying to communicate with me and needing my co-operation.  Then I remember that the reason I have wanted to go it alone, as it were, was that I didn’t want this issue to be decided on gifts and abilities or social standing or connections. I didn’t want to be heard in the psychiatric situation because of who or what was on my side.  I wanted to be considered level and equal with the least gifted and the least desirable, because to fight this issue any other way is just another form of eugenics, in someone’s favour rather than against them.  From the start I have said and meant that I don’t want to be a hero (how can I be, there are areas of my life which are too awful to permit that, though I hear that the great Gandhi used to beat his wife).  I don’t want a statue erected to my part in the downfall of UK’s concentration camps.  I don’t want a foundation in my name, or my name in history for anything to do with any of this, should this great and necessary work be successful.  Because that perpetrates a mentality which says in the face of such awfulness ‘we need another (whoever)’ ‘there is nothing we can do, we don’t know enough about it, no one will listen to us, we know but we can’t do anything’.

I’m not special.  I love it when I feel I am, I feel happy and energised.  But I know that no awfulness anywhere is going to be stopped by maintaining the belief that we need to depend on the emergence of a special person.  If anyone is special, it is the people who are making me feel special.  I hope I wouldn’t be just a stepping stone along the way.  I want to be in the truck that swings the demolision ball for the whole system of coersive medicine.  I’m a Christian.  One special person, to me, did something decisive 2 millenia ago, and the Bible says that he took the keys of death and hell at that moment, and told the rest of us to do the work.

I was thinking about George Orwell’s book 1984 as well.  Where, at the end, after the ultimate betrayal of each other (so the book presents it) in wishing their own greatest nightmares on each other when faced with them physically, they pass each other without acknowledgment, the male protagonist hears the voice of ‘Big Brother’, still surrounded by his images on hoardings and everywhere, and weeps as he realises that he loves Big Brother, and that is where it ends.

I’ve always felt that to be awful and tragic, brainwashing.  That is how Orwell wanted it to be seen, isn’t it?  A very pessimistic outlook on falling into the loving arms of Big Brother and returning the love.  I was taught about the unreliable narrator.  Surely the most unreliable narrator can be the writer him or her self.

I have been ‘loving’ my Big Brother recently, who is all around me and inescapable.  Is it the government, or the media, or a combination?  If it is a combination, what happens when they fall out of love?  If they love me now, what happens when they stop loving me?  The book ended on this broken man’s realisation that he loved Big Brother. It didn’t take us any further than that, though there would have been a further to go in his life.  Is the purpose of the book just to show and present a picture of the effects of torture and brainwashing and leave it there and let the rest of us pick it up and deal with it?

Does Big Brother love me?  Who does Big Brother love?  The political Big Brother is not the same from age to age, with the same agenda.

If we are, in the positive sense, Big Brother to each other, who or what is keeping us apart?

I know that, because I know something of what I am going to write, and people’s reasons will vary.  Personally, when this is posted, I will want to throw up, because I don’t think a decent person would post something like this.

I wrote to someone yesterday and asked for help, saying my alternative was to blog it, because the details are sensitive and involve other people and their tragedies, which have already been in the national news headlines.  I am going to be coupling this with my own plight as someone who has been mentioning this kind of thing to my psychiatrists for years and been told it is probably a coincidence.

I keep hearing murders reported on the national radio news (I don’t watch much tv at the moment and if I did I might find even more cause for concern in the images) which have salient details in common with my life, past and present.  Here are three from the last 2 months.  I have been aware of others which I haven’t latched onto in the same way, but now every time a newreader’s tone becomes serious I listen for the details and am sometimes astounded that it has nothing that I can hear to connect it to me.  Very often it has something I can identify as a part of my life.

1.  The hostages killed over a month ago, Franco and Chris.  My name is Sue, I am a Christian.  Chris is often used in this way.  My uncle’s name is Frank.  They were captured on 12 May 2011, my uncle Frank’s birthday, and slaughtered as I thought I was embarking on a new lifestyle temporarily in Wales.  This kind of coincidence has happened before.

2. Dunford and Julie Davison, one new story.  The first vicar I can remember in Bestwood, Nottingham, where I was born, is/was called Dunford.  The girl across the corridor from me in my hall of residence, who is also 50 now, like Julie Davison, is/was called Julie Davie.  Two people connected with my personal life, linked in the same murder news item.  I reported this one to the area police responsible, over the phone, and said I had had a lot of these coincidences in the past.  The next day someone had been arrested, but I have heard nothing myself in response to my call.  I am wondering if they have decided I am an unreliable witness because I have a mental health diagnosis of schizophrenia, based in the first place on my insistence that this was happening.  Patients on a ward are not regarded as reliable witnesses for each other either and their versions of events are not called for.  This is written in the procedural literature.

3.  The latest thing is the Philpot fire in Derbyshire, which has taken the lives of 6 children, all the children the mother had.  I can’t imagine the devastation this poor woman must be feeling.  The last I heard the police were treating it as arson.  Our next door neighbour when I was a child in Nottingham was called Mrs Philpot.

All 3 of these facts are checkable by asking members of my family who have not, to my knowledge, been certified.   So why haven’t I turned to them to back me up?  Good question.  What about someone who does not have family to back them up in this kind of assertion?  Am I just attention seeking?  I am uncomfortable with that question and its possible answers.

I started listening to Osho teaching on Napster a few years ago.  Shortly after that there was a bombing close to an Osho ashram.  There is much more I can’t remember at the moment.  Some of it might be in this blog already.

My psychiatrists have been saying it is a coincidence.  I am not sure how these families would feel about that.  They are saying it is a coincidence and that I have a delusional disorder.  They have been/are considering treating me under section 3 of the mental health act.  While I was telling them what was happening they were making ‘mumpy’ questioning faces at me, as if I was a child who understood nothing.

I can’t see the responsibility or the morality of making such an assessment and decision about such dense coincidences often repeated, when treating them as serious and me as reliable based on facts which have nothing to do with the creation of my brain might lead to the uncovering of terrorist and murderous gangs.  Apart from the fact that a hospital bed costs the country £700 a night, surely there must be a responsibility to take something like this seriously and investigate it properly, both for my sake and the sakes of those who are losing their lives, and to make it stop.

A few practical details which are trivial in comparison, but also relevant.  I am a vegan.  Meal times are made a battle, and were before I was a vegan, but now I am not getting adequate provision and am having to supplement what I eat with my own purchases.  There is nowhere near enough protein in what I am given to eat.  Twice I have been given a tortilla wrap with salad vegetables, yesterday I was given a carton of rice dotted with peppers and sweetcorn.  These are my concerns which do not seem to have registered.  Someone catering for a hospital should know how to cater for all diets.  You can’t chose a niche hospital as you can a restaurant, and if you are there against your wishes it adds to the distress not to have adequate nutrition and to be intensely aware of that fact.

Nurses are playing mind games with me, and so are cleaning staff.  Fixed smiles, chattering into my relaxed speech with someone else, one nurse, an MA in Art, said that until recently he thought that Malaysia was the disease and malaria was the country.  I thought he was joking but he insisted he wasn’t.  He has an MA in art so it is possible that it is true and that I should give him the benefit of the doubt.  But it doesn’t seem likely . . . .

Nurses keep saying hello and are you ok and that is as far as it goes.  Big smiles, sometimes I feel seething, but that is hard for me to say and be taken seriously.  But I feel, yes, and?  Get to the point or leave me alone.  I experience it as harassment.  People insisting that you engage in conversation in a place where you are held against your wishes and not as a criminal, and never coming to the point of what they want to say or ask, if anything.  Outside I would not have to engage in conversation with anyone I didn’t want to talk to.  Rights are presented as gifts in what might be perceived as a good conversation about something else.  I have been told I could see a dietician but it hasn’t been taken any further, and often when I have knocked on the office door they haven’t even looked up to acknowledge my presence.  I think a lot of patients get this.

The other day I was talking in the dining room about what I thought about the system and wishing people who said they hadn’t wanted the job for what they were being required to do would have the courage of their convictions and find something else, because if they don’t like doing it, they should put themselves in our place and consider how much less we like having it done to us.  My psychiatrist yesterday said that my letter to Nottingham City Homes had been full of self reference, which she says is a symptom of delusion.  I pointed out that I had had no written acknowledgment of the letters I had sent them, and she drew back a little at this.  But by self-reference she meant that I thought the violent harassment from upstairs was being aimed at me and that I was being followed and targeted in my flat, where I know we could hear each other much too well for privacy.  So it wasn’t self-referential, it was referring to behaviour which I believe was being aimed at me as harassment by others who had me in their minds.  Even if I was wrong about that it hardly matters, because the behaviour, whether aimed at me or not, was intolerable and not something I should have been expected to live with.  If I wasn’t thinking straight it is hardly surprising and it should have been dealt with as unacceptable behaviour whether it was considered targeted or not.   I was self referential in that I talked about my confusion about how I should be handling it, but to me that is a sign of honest, responsible communication, not delusion.  It worries me that people who can seize responsibility and power over me in this way can have a problem with that.  I was asking for help to process it.  I can’t see how that is delusional behaviour.  It isn’t.  I don’t think anyone I’ve learned anything from that I value would see it that way.

I’m running out of time and can’t continue much longer, though there are other points I want to highlight.

I want writing to be a pleasure and a development.  But sometimes it has to be work.  Sometimes you have to document and not just create.  I have realised I have to be something in my writing which I have never seen as a necessity, since I have not been in this position since years before I started my blog.  If I am to survive, and if I am to be honest and responsible and fulfil what I believe to be my obligations, I have to start writing like a campaigner and an activist.  I have to see myself as that in a way I haven’t before.

The fact that I have written this is not saying that I don’t trust the person that I wrote to yesterday.  It is my situation and I can’t keep asking other people for help.  I have to own it myself, and if I or others are going to say that what I have written is indecent, I have to own that also.  This is my necessary task.  Let those who will, help me.

 

It says I do on the website.

However, payment implies contract, and obligations of the provider to stick to the expressed terms of the contract.

Whereas the BBC makes programmes unavailable at will which are normally available, regularly pulls recordings earlier than even the 24 hour period they are advertised for, as with the BBC News At One or indeed any of those slots – if, sometimes, they are put up at all.  Or programmes I particularly want to watch broadcast at times I was particularly interested in carry the ‘this content doesn’t appear to be working’ sign.  Recently a lot of programmes where the next week’s episode was already being broadcast were unavailable for watching or download, even early in the broadcast, even though they should have been available for 1-3 hours longer.

And many of the ‘technical’ issues they will plead are technical issues not of machinery, I believe, but of law, or of letting their ‘stalked ones’ know who is the boss.

Well, if we are expected to part with our money to use this service, we are the boss.  If, however, the rules are changeable at will, it seems to me that is a breach of the contract we thought we were entering into.

I wanted to watch tonight’s ‘Newsnight’, because of a post I began to draft last night which I lost most of when I lost my connection to the internet, so I have to try to reconstruct it.  I lost my connection 25 minutes before I had finished the post, and never realised, because I was able to continue typing and even input category ticks.  I tried to save the draft when the most used tags menu wouldn’t fall, and that was when I was told the page was not available, and saw I had put too much pressure on my connection cable.

I said something in it about one of Jeremy Paxman’s comments last week and how I was grateful for it, and mentioned the names of some of the Lords I noticed on today’s session and jokingly wondered when we would see a Lord de Misrule.  Lo and behold, content is not working, at time of writing.  As on many occasions before.

So I don’t think that, in law, I should owe the BBC any money, because they regularly and at will break the terms of the contract for provision of the iPlayer and its use.  So as it is, I think the iPlayer should be seen as a facility that does not require you to have a TV licence.  And obviously the way they are using it might not only be in breach of Consumer Rights but also of employment contracts, if the broadcast presenters expect the material to be available and are somehow being bullied into accepting its unavailability to the public.

I didn’t know it was Edmund Burke.  I think we need to re-think that.  If men, or women or children, do nothing in the face of evil, how can they be called good?  That does not make sense.  Good people do, the rest do nothing.  Do, not speak, not persuade, alone – do!

And for victims they do, openly, and accountably.  If they are politicians they should do it before the populace, not just each other.  Explicitly and openly.  No clowning, no play-acting – straight people.  If people under arrest clowned and play-acted the way these people do, they would be punished.  Or abused.  I think.  Or am I wrong?  Do the police have a sense of humour in these situations?  If they did, would it be appropriate?

I left a comment on Tommy Boyd’s blog on Friday, about how the way people treat me sometimes makes me feel, emotionally, that I want to hit back.

At the time I left it, I was aware, listening back, that it seemed as if my comments were being tracked by the radio hosts I was listening to.  When it got to the time that I left that comment, the host who was on at that time said something sarcastically and derisively about unfailing love.

Apart from the obvious fact that it is God who is perfect love, and not me, I wasn’t aware he had access to my unpublished comments in the middle of me writing them anyway.  Well, I was, and have been for ages.   Unless it is a psychic thing, and I don’t think it is.  Sometimes, but probably rarely.

So it is stalking and harassment.  Hostage-taking and keeping, maybe.  And they love bomb you like a cult.

That kind of sarcasm, if it factored in something in Biology, for example, would be called an inhibitor or a limiting factor.  It is something I came across when I got interested in vegetarian food and was given a couple of books which went into detail about it.  Talking about available protein.

If I remember it right, proteins are made up of amino acids, the composition of which can be pictured as a star shape with unequal protrusions, the shorter ones limiting the availability, release and utilisation of the rest, and therefore the amount of available protein.  It was presented as a part of the idea of complementary protein, where, for instance, rice and beans complement each other and make more protein available when eaten together than is available if you add them up separately.  Wheat and milk is another one (that was vegetarianism, not veganism).  And there are others.  Some people say that is an outdated theory now, but the diet and nutrition industry being what it is, who knows?  I suppose if it was scientifically proved it must still stand.  It isn’t something which depends on individual metabolism, it is the protein available in combined foods, and that is testable in a laboratory (I think!) before the food enters the body.  Although thinking about it I am wondering how the necessary blending of the foodstuffs would take place apart from digestive breakdown, but that probably shows the limitation of my own knowledge due to inadequate study and experience.

But in relationships, I don’t want people behaving as inhibitors towards me in that way and thinking it is good or clever.  He went on to say something about ‘don’t cry, woman’, or something like that.  But by that time I wasn’t open to anything else which came from him, and I stopped listening.

PS – the WordPress system has just informed me that this is my 275th post and called me a dope.  Honestly!  “Dope!” – just like that.

Read it here in Scottish or English.

I was watching yesterday’s news coverage of Osama Bin Laden’s death, and found myself thinking, ‘A man’s a man, for all that’, and I knew it was a quotation, but I wasn’t sure where from, so I looked it up.  I was thinking it not to belittle a man and say he is dispensable, but to exalt him as a creature of intrinsic worth and nobility.  I was thinking it for Osama Bin Laden.  I was disagreeing with David Cameron and other world leaders who have expressed satisfaction over his death.  By extension I was also thinking it for the rest of us, including those of us who have found justification in holding the bitterness and unforgiveness that can allow us to say of a fellow human being, ‘good, he is dead’, rather than expressing regret that his killing was a necessary part, so we are being told, of bringing justice.

I believe that kind of expression of that kind of feeling brutalises and degrades us and makes us less than the ‘man’ that our own nature demands we should be.  The Bible says, in one of the Psalms, that we are gods, and that the big God gave His Son to die for our sins, while we were still sinners.  Jesus quoted that Psalm and said the scripture cannot be broken.

I have heard it taught that Islam was formed as a religion in direct opposition to Christianity and Judaism.  I think I heard that from Colin Dye’s platform.  I think we have to ask why.  Christians used to hold killing crusades.  Christians sided with Hitler in the killing of Jews.  Shakespeare’s ‘The Merchant of Venice’ was one of my set texts at school.  It was about a Jewish money lender who lent money to a Christian on the terms that he forfeit a pound of his own flesh if he defaulted.  All the Christian’s ships were lost at sea.  A woman called Portia argued the Christian’s case in court, and he was reprieved because the forfeit did not mention the shedding of blood, and Shylock, the money lender, was mockingly and derisively invited to take the pound of flesh, but if in so doing he shed one drop of blood he would have a forfeit of his own.  I think it was his life, but I can’t remember.

The first line of Portia’s famous speech, ‘the quality of mercy is not strained’, is often quoted and held to be a thing of great beauty.  But earlier the Jewish money lender had a great and truly painful speech of his own, basically saying ‘I am a man like you’, and the one part I can definitely remember and that registers with me deeply on an emotional level is where he talks about being in the street and having people ‘spit upon my Jewish gabardine’.  And although the quality of mercy is not strained, it seems that, from his humiliation at the end, it was meant to achieve mercy for Antonio, the Christian, but to be a lesson, yet another painful life lesson, to Shylock, the despised Jewish money lender.  I would like to draw more points from this play but I am not familiar with it any more and would need to read it again.  Points about if Shylock had gained his money legally and honourably, why was he so despised by the people who borrowed from him?  Did they need to borrow, would they have needed to borrow if they had not been so greedy themselves?  So why despise their provider?  Shylock’s requirement of Antonio was probably meant only to express his own distaste at lending to a man who spat upon his Jewish gabardine, or represented people who did.  He never expected, in all probability, that he would be in a position to call for the forfeit.  It was probably meant as a verbal expression of hate for hate.  The fact he called for it is obviously inexcusable, but would have been an expression of his own sick feelings of hate and revenge brought on by the abuse and constant humiliation.  Antonio was a rich merchant.  Shylock was a rich money lender.  What was Shylock’s sin?  Without reading again, it must have been that he was Jewish.  Shylock the Jew did not kill Jesus any more than Antonio the Christian (by affiliation and Christian country ‘birthright’ or by life changing choice and conviction?) did.  But Shylock was hated.

I’m not sure what the point of that is in this post.  Maybe it is just a way for me to say ‘this is hurting me’, because I identify emotionally with Shylock in his feelings over the abuse he received, regardless of any consideration of business ethics and morality.  I started crying when I found and read the Robert Burns poem and found it so perfect and beautiful, and that feeling hasn’t left me while considering Shylock.

My church used to say ‘hate the sin but love the sinner’.  We are justifying hating both the sin and the sinner, and that degrades both us and the sinner.  We are justifying such hatred towards a man that we rejoice in his death.  He couldn’t have achieved anything without his followers, and even though their figurehead has died, passed through death, if they choose revenge rather than deciding to change track and work themselves for brotherhood and world peace, I cannot see how the death of Osama Bin Laden can be seen as an ‘important step forward’, or the similar words used by my own beloved and respected prime minister, David Cameron.  So I would want to appeal to both sides, in the name of God and in the name of love and humanity, to please cool it and stop the revenge and attacks and the seeking of ‘justice’.  I would want to ask that, as Christians, we love our radical Islamic enemies, enough to uncover enough humility of our own to consider what it is that has so filled them with hatred and be willing to apologise and actively pursue reparation and healing of relationships with them, to stop the self-righteous demands and invective, and to approach them with the love and honour and humility we should employ, according to the Bible, towards all men.  I’m not saying that I myself am good at that, but I hope the character of our leaders is made of such stuff that they might be different, and be so openly, and not try to ‘confound the enemy’ by presenting a different face publicly than the one they present privately.   Our enemies need to know and see that we are honest and open not only about our rights, but about theirs, and about our own failings, even historical, and willingness to make reparation.  I don’t believe it is true, for any human being, that violence is all they understand.  The Bible says that the desire of a man is constant love, and I think that goes for everyone, and we need to be braver in showing that.  Vulnerable love, not tough love.  Active and proactive vulnerable love and openness to others.  ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I understand’ and ‘yes, you’re right’ and ‘thank you, I hadn’t thought of that’, and even ‘I love you, are you OK, can I help you?’ love and pursuit of justice.

Love and concern for each other should flow from the top down and the bottom up and spread out and come in, and maybe then the right policies will be obvious and not take up so much time in our relationships, governmental and otherwise.  I want to see the leaders of my world loving one another.  Having therapy sessions and love-ins, most of the time, instead of arguments and policy formation.  If they can pass on the benefits of that to us and across international boundaries, it might change everything about our living and thinking and being in the world and with each other.

I believe all of this is part of our intrinsic worth and nobility which we abandon at our peril and that we need to rediscover, and part of what it means to be ‘A Man, for A’ That’.

In Jesus’ Name.

Amen.

New readers take note, some of these people are named on my blog, most are not, in most cases because I don’t know them.  And when I say ‘imaginary friends’, some of them are friends in both my imagination and their own, and most of them are friends only in their own imaginations.  And obviously, throughout this communication, ‘friend’ can be substituted with ‘enemy’.

Or, to all stalkers and computer hackers everywhere.

(Shall I do it Kafkaesque? I think this is Kafkaesque, but I’m not sure).

They always say that, you know.  It wasn’t my fault.  I didn’t want to do it. They made me.  I had to do it to keep my job.  I was just obeying orders.  Yes, I knew people were real people, yes, I knew I was contributing to suffering and in some cases, most cases, authorising or executing people’s deaths.  I became a really cruel person to cope with that.  I couldn’t handle my conscience in the job any other way.  They disgust me, these people.  I, I, I.  I did it because this and I had to be this and that to handle it, but I never really wanted to.  It was my upbringing, at the time I had no choice.  Of course I’m sorry for the people I made suffer and killed, but I had no choice.  It was my job, you see. I was under orders.  I was under orders.  I had to obey orders.  I had a family to feed.  I had to keep my job.

No, it isn’t Kafkaesque, I thought it could have been, I thought I could do it, I felt in the ‘zone’, but . . .

My neighbours have just started up, hmm-ing and banging.  They know when my alarm goes off in the morning now.  I don’t normally use one, I haven’t used one for years, but I decided I wanted to set a time to be woken up or to mark the desired time of my latest waking, so that I would be setting the terms of my own waking, in the hope that being woken up by violence would stop.  But they know what time it goes off now.  When I came back from the police, at around the time my alarm had previously been set to go off (it was early, about 5.30.  I decided to let them have a wake up call on their own dirty terms, by day three she was screaming at me to shut up.  Can’t understand.  They have been at me relentlessly and mercilessly for ten weeks, in every private place and with more injurious means) a sound like a loud siren went through the whole building.  Retaliation. I don’t know what they were expecting.  I lay there in shocked silence, maybe angry, I can’t remember.  Probably defiant, but I can’t remember.  Possibly not defiant.  I had already changed my alarm to go off at a far more decent time, 8.15.  (If you want to know what my neighbours are doing as I write this, read yesterday’s ‘Odd Thoughts’ entry.  I won’t rehash old stuff again today).  When it went off at 8.15 they commented, souded disgruntled for some reason, but I don’t know why.

They try to pass themselves off as sweet, playful children.  Or she does, anyway.

Anyway, yesterday they made a noise over my bed just before the alarm went off.  Today they did the same thing.  I can’t remember how it went exactly, the order or anything.  I think a noise just before it went off.  It went off and I let it run out.  On purpose.  I didn’t switch it straight off.  Normally I would have done, like a nervous, obedient by training servant or something.  It ran out, and it went off again.  They seemed a bit annoyed.  I felt I had a point to make about whose home this is.  Anyway, as soon as it stopped, she imitated the sound of its buzzing, then tapped, then ran her tongue off, but not at me, almost as if I wasn’t there.  I don’t know if it is my own shock and grossed-outness and failure of resources to handle such grossly outrageous behaviour (is it outrageous by Bulgarian standards?  I still don’t know.  The days of the People’s Court are not that long gone.  I wonder how much it has been left behind in their thinking and practice, whatever their written laws say.  if my experience is anything to go by, it has not been left that far behind with a lot of people, even hallelujah-touters.  I say touters.  There is no guarantee that they are Christians just because they say hallelujah.  Some things, I believe, are not a matter of Christian education).  But back to my pre-bracket sentence.  Maybe it is my state of shock which causes the coincidence between my thoughts freeing up or creativity beginning to flow or separating from them in anyway, and the violently invasive and or ugly interjections which hit/meet those times.  My change has no intention.  It doesn’t happen by intention.  It might come out of a process of thinking, that I decide I am free to pursue my day apart from their terms and I begin to plan it, but most times I don’t even get that far.  All of this is silent.  But their actions are intentional.  They speak, loudly over my air, like a spiritual pronouncement, and I am sure it is intentionally. . . . it’s too weird to explain.  Or they bang.  If I cough natually and unguardedly, they bang.  They did this morning.  It is obvious which comes first in that situation.  But which comes first and what causes what when I am silent and they are noisy?  Are these wrong questions to ask?  Are these questions in themselves the nature of occultism?  Am I wrong to be concerned with these questions?  (Reminder to myself, mental illness, stalking, harassment and occult.  The bit below my blog title.  That is the reason for my questions.  It is not because I am proud or relationally inadequate.)

So here I am, I’ve been whipped and dragged a merry dance again.  I don’t know why I write it all down, it feels like the only way.   I want to go to the toilet but am afraid.  I want to shit, and they start saying dobre and hallelujah.  Every time.  Or banging.  I’ve always believed (she just ejaculated ‘dobre’ as I typed my bold italics.  See yesterday Odd Thoughts. But then see the rest of today’s post and know I haven’t a clue.  Before that he was purring prayer-ministry- type ‘hmm’ agreements.  They are stamping their territory today, still refusing to go to the police) that kind of thing is indecent.  Are they trying to force me out with indecent and violent invasion of privacy?  It looks that way.  I say I’ve always believed, but that isn’t really true.  It has never come up before for me to have an opinion about it one way or another, not even in my basement flat in london, really.  I should just stop writing instead of letting it take over my posts.  I don’t know why I don’t.  Probably a combination of exorcism, appeasement, stubbornness, fear and blind panic.  Outrage.

So, if I can retrieve something of my original intention.  What I was going to say was, to my stalkers, my imaginary friends and enemies, known and unknown, media, church, government and ‘other’ . . . .  I know . . . nothing.  She aims at my throat, and I know nothing.

So I’ll ask a question instead, which I intended to ask anyway.

OK, I can hear you stalking me.  You say you like me.  You say this is good, and that is good, but you’re not sure about this, and we need to back off and be careful, etc., etc.

But like, you like me, yeah?  From your stalking of me, that is the impression you have of your feelings about me.  That feels good to you.  You trust your own judgment, and you are happy because you believe I am worth stalking, because you end up believing good about me, and that makes you happy, and that feeds into your output in your programmes, or you can weave it into your sermons or policies or other presentations.

But what about how I feel, and what it does to me?

You are like expectant parents, cooing and taling over a baby in the womb.

But . . .

If you invaded that baby’s person and environment, as you do mine, for the same kinds of assessment and analysis and judgment, what kind of monster or creature do you think might survive to emerge?  Someone being stalked without their knowledge, or without proper acknowledgment of the fact when they realise, has no more resources to cope than a growing foetus, and no more chance of survival.  How, in your thinking, have you managed to change a person’s status from being a victim of your injustice and kidnap, effectively, into that of someone who should respond with gratitude and humility to your recognition (true or false) that they are and have a gift, and your terms of operation or utilisation?

We don’t do answers on a postcard these days, do we?  I was just thinking of the person who said that (Cindy Kent) and her part in this.  I could have expressed it very acceptably and decently and reasonably, but that foul, occult hallelujah indecently harassing criminal demon-child of a woman upstairs just made a verbal snatch for my thought.  That is what she always does.  They are always telling me I have no right.  Whatever I do.  How grossly entitled can some people feel and believe themselves to be?  I challenged her and she giggled.  That is gross in itself, given the ugliness and criminality she operates in most of the time.

If I don’t get this out, you will play with me until I do.  But you will anyway, and make me feel disgusting and guilty or disempowered and vulnerable, whichever fits.

God Hates Fags

So do I, ask my sister.

Dr Gallo, my Spanish psychiatrist, who called me obese in one of his reports, came towards me in the corridor once, and he absolutely stank of them.  I suppose I must have given him a questioning, intelligent, ‘oh really’ kind of look, because he looked a bit sheepish and uncomfortable.

I was thinking something along the lines of, ‘smoking kills, I don’t smoke, and I’m a nut, he smokes, and he is my psychiatrist.  He knows smoking kills, so he is addicted or in denial, or at least dishonest, because he goes out for a crafty one and looks sheepish when caught by one of his patients, or inmates’.  My actual thoughts were, ‘oh, he smokes’.  It was a bit of an enlightenment, an ‘aha’ moment.  I suppose I might have gone into my Christian prayer ministry and revelation mode.  But for me the logic behind my thoughts and feelings, as a psychiatric patient, is as previously stated.

It is my opinion that someone that insensitive, to write in a woman’s psychiatric tribunal report that she is obese, almost as though he were a vet rather than a doctor, and who smokes himself, ought not to be dealing with people on the mind level.

No, I didn’t mean homosexuals.  Not honest homosexuals.  I did that myself for two years.  I’m not sure how honest I was, maybe I rationalised my activity with the rationalisations I had been given by society and psychology until in the end it felt irrevocable and unchangeable.  Along the way of coming to terms with it I answered my own questions and my partner’s questions and probings with my own rationalisations drawn from society’s logic and permissiveness.  Of course, homosexuality used to be a reason to be detained under the mental health act, I think, or it was at least viewed as a mental illness.  But now it is a crime to show yourself ‘homophobic’.  I said that to the psychiatric staff on my ward.  I was sort of stonewalled.  Or patronised.  No one was interested in changing anything they were doing to me after I said it, anyway.

I was thinking about homophobia the other day, and wondering if there is such a word or crime as ‘Christianophobia’.  In the interests of balance I think possibly there should be.  Maybe ‘Religiophobia’ as well.  I have indulged, in myself, a homosexual relationship, though not a complete lifestyle, and I believed it was wrong beforehand and believe it was wrong now, afterwards.  And I am a Christian who believes the Bible says it is wrong and that therefore it is.  Unfortunately you can’t catch me with the shellfish argument, because I am also a vegan for moral and spiritual reasons.  Therefore I would not wear animal fibres either, mixed or otherwise.  So OK, I used to have a lesbian relationship, and now I am saying it is wrong, and that Biblical Christianity says it is wrong, which I believe.  Where does that put me as an individual on the crime scale, in relation to this issue? (By the way, I think Islam and the Quran also say it is wrong).  Not only the crime scale, but what are my own human rights on this, in terms of owning my own experience and my beliefs about it, including moral, spiritual and religious?  Can I be penalised for religiously aggravated homophobia against myself?  Do I have to limit myself in how I talk about my own life and beliefs about it?

The politicisation of ideas of right and wrong, illness and wellness.  Mental illness really is a political concept, isn’t it? Part of the irony, for me, is that an awful lot of force and assault, not to say violence, is used against some very non-violent people to make sure they take their ‘medication’.  By these people who say we are a danger to ourselves or others otherwise.  I do feel sick thinking about it.  Sick with violence and rage, the retaliatory kind.  That is a normal feeling.  I’m not acting it out.  There would be no point.  Their force and violence would be greater.

So the force and violence of a recognised professional body against an individual is OK and justified, but if that person, before not violent or physically forceful, wants to retaliate, even says they feel they want to, it isn’t?  It’s a threat to society?  But these professionals are not?

God hates fags – an interesting forage and forray.

Danger In Dominionism

This post which I found under propaganda is interesting to me and I recommend it.  I have a choice.  I can believe I can walk into the embrace of the pastors I love and who love me, and hope and have faith that my relationship with them will make a difference, or I can refer people to this post instead.  Two roads diverged – I’m taking the one most travelled, and losing my own life by trying to keep it, and not in the way I should be.

Colin Dye embraces the model this post talks about.  David Shearman talks about Aristotle.  Hey, what if the writer of this post is wrong?  Then I am further alienating two people I love and who are my life.

All of my stalkers and blog readers are pawing over me affecting intimacy and the right to identify and instruct, and not one of them is making proper committed contact.  Is it any wonder I can’t cope with life?

I just got up.  I went to the toilet.  My upstairs neighbours started fluttering over me and expressing signs of distress – because I’m going to the toilet?  Next thing I know, I’m thinking about what I want to say about it on my blog and am trying to approach it kindly, when savage voice zhena (woman) cries out again, straight into my head.

This is constant, I need it to stop.  My eviction procedure has gone into its second stage and so far I have not felt able to touch it – because I just can’t think straight.  So I’m naming names.  Nick Clegg, you lovely boy, don’t just bang about on your podium, imitating, as you think, the banging from my neighbours (assuming that you have read my blog and that was what you were doing yesterday).  Do something!  I emailed you, and you didn’t reply.  Now DO something other than a dramatic presnentation in parliament.  Contact me properly.  Please.  If that is appropriate and not taking what is properly a legal issue and making it a party political issue.

And while I am on the subject of parliament, for the past two days it has been impossible to watch it live streamed on the internet.  What is going on?  I suppose I can safely assume that I am not important enough for it to have anything to do with me.

I’ve sent Joan Ruddock, my MP, all the emails connected with my eviction and asked for replies.  I have received none.  I did this at the beginning, over a month ago.  From something that was said, by her, I think, it appears she is on strike over me until she gets the gratitude she believes she is entitled to, as if I have to prove myself to her.  The first time I went to see her she wouldn’t let me talk and all but threw me out of her surgery.  She stood up to dismiss me in a way which made me feel that if I didn’t go, the next step would be calling the police.  I have mixed feelings about her, I think she has tried to be nice, and I’m really upset about this. 

I was thinking about how I wanted to word that last sentence to most accurately express my feelings and say what I wanted to say, when my neighbours upstairs banged, leaving me with so great a feeling of desperation and outrage and enormity I didn’t know what to do.  Whatever words I had, or connection with the feelings I wanted, they went, as always. I continue to assert it is their awful mix of hallelujahs and violence and personal invasiveness which is causing this.  I say this kind of constant occurence is the result of their witchcraft.  I’m terrified.  I feel raped in my soul.  I feel as if I can’t speak without speaking to them.  I am effectively their hostage.  Or am I just hostage to my resentment and fear of all the prejudice and discrimination I face here continually, because of the way I am dressed and the way I look?  Security people in supermarkets relax when they see me get my money out, and I think that is gross.  Where before they have marched me and commanded me as if I am beneath them.  But I get my money out and suddenly I am not.  I was in Sofia a few weeks ago.  I wanted to be taken to a hotel in a taxi, and several drivers rudely and aggressively refused.

There is no such thing as public opinion, because the public is made up of many people who hold many different opinions, and who are confused about th eir opinions and change them often, or are paralysed into inactivity or other manifestations of distress.

So I’m wondering how this became an accepted and acceptable concept in the first place?  It is a handy concept to impose, for some people and organisations.  Is it about making money and controlling people, or what?  I can’t think of anything else at the moment.

If you can invoke the concept of public opinion, you can use it not only to say ‘this is good and this is bad’, but also ‘this person is good, and this person is bad’.  In some societies the ‘good’ people can kill the ‘bad’ people for lesser crimes than murder.  That is not to say that killing people for murder is good (though for them it might be preferable to a lifetime of interment). 

I was going to say why should we be punitive by making the punishment last a lifetime, but then I thought about the possibility of change and rehabilitation which wouldn’t be available to them, or us, if we killed them.  Maybe, if we want to be really kind, we should give people an option of the death sentence or a lifetime’s imprisonment or stuck on a psychiatric ward on drugs.  If we are going to argue for voluntary euthanasia and the right to assisted suicide I can’t see why not.  And it might sort out the prison space problem and problems in the economy too, because we wouldn’t be having to pay for them.

You could argue that a life in prison or on psychiatric drugs is not the kinder option, if the person would prefer to get the whole thing out of the way immediately and just die.  Why should we want to deprive a criminal of that option, unless we ourselves are sadistically and viciously punitive?  But then there are others who are sadistically and viciously punitive in the other direction who would say, ‘and a good thing too, taking our space and costing us money’, but they might have a harder time maintaining that if the option of the death penalty was seen as a kindness rather than the ultimate punishment.

Stop Press!

On Thursday, or early Friday, I published a post called ‘Sam’.  Today, none of the BBC Radio London programmes for today are available for download.  They don’t say ‘Coming Soon’, they say ‘not available’, and normally they are.  Most of the day’s programmes are marked ‘not available’.  No one is going to tell me that this is just a technical issue, because there have been far too many ‘technical issue’ coincidences in the past.

Edit note:  1.20 pm UK time.

This is the first post of mine that I have noticed for ages, which has not been posted, at least not in sequence or among today’s posts, on the Christianity board for which it is tagged, although it appears on others for which it is tagged.  If there are too many tags and categories it doesn’t appear anywhere, so my post has been censored on this board.  It is not the first time.  Before I have ranted, it has felt like a visceral attack.  I have assumed the people responsible call themselves Christians, and have therefore found the censorship dishonest and unacceptable in a more painful way than if they didn’t. But I don’t know who it is that is responsible for this decision.  I only know it appears to have been censored, although there appear to be plenty of people who have responded in their own posts, albeit not explicitly.

BBC World News.  He just talked about ‘stricken reactors’, which could also be taken at an emotional and psychological level, as they are aware and deliberately exploiting, and he followed it up with one of his looks and said ‘then there is the little matter of the cricket match’. (Edit: so here I am again – are they saying, ‘we know about all this and we want to help you, or what?)

It is an accusation, a ‘first get their attention then inject the accusation’.  That is what it is.  For me, it is crippling.  Also, I have been very strong and clear and believe I have taken important spiritual and legal ground and gained understanding, legally, about the matter with my neighbours, and have been using Google Translate to deal with it, I asked them why they were banging and said I didn’t understand, that I am not a mind reader and that they shouldn’t be doing it anyway, and asked them if they understood, they didn’t answer, I asked them to give me a yes or no answer, they didn’t answer, I asked again, and said if they were not prepared to give a yes or no answer, it was definitely a matter for the police. They didn’t answer.  I have communicated emotionally, clearly, factually, legally and focussed and redefined a few things and believe I have understood things I misunderstood before, which I had understood in their favour and now understand against them, in light of their subsequent actions over weeks, and refusal to answer me when I said quite clearly that I didn’t understand and gave them an opportunity to tell me that they understood me.

I felt strong, right and enabled.

Then Peter Dobbie moved in for the kill.

He inflicted a gross enormity on my mind.

I still know, obviously, that these people I am willing to see as friends are hacking my computer.

He has thrown something indecent and unclean, merely by his own action, apart from the accusation, into my face, and left me broken and disabled again in the hands of my neighbours, especially the woman, whose spiritually illegal hallelujah, thrown at me or at every change of sound on my television, now has renewed power with and over me and makes me feel wrong and guilty.

And Peter Dobbie, what you are doing is grossly evil and illegal.  You do what you do, and the person who comes on afterwards comes on all cheery and upbeat making me feel your way is right and that I am wrong to find fault and not accept your help.  You have put me right back into incapable and incoherent hysteria and a feeling of being overwhelmed to the point of being unable to cope with all the things that I need to deal with legally.

The people upstairs comment when I cough, they comment when I speak, they comment when they hear a body noise, sometimes in hateful tones, and that invasion seems to give them occult access to invade every silent relaxation with a bang or a cry of pain followed by ‘dobre’, or ‘hallelujah’ on its own.  They have just banged now.  Peter Dobbie, do you know what you are doing, illegally playing like this with another person’s life, and soul, and mind, and spirit, and will, and freedom, etc, etc?  Do you understand the consequences of your illegality in my life?  Do you understand how grossly indecent and treacherous your illegal activity towards me is? Do you know what you are doing to me?  Do you think you are capable of accepting the responsibility of controlling me and my life and repairing the deep injury you inflict?  Do you think I am capable of letting you, or that I should be?  Do you think it is right for you to cut me to your purposes like this?  Especially knowing I have to go to authorities I have every reason to distrust in order to get the help I need?

Here is the tongue-lashing sports woman again.  Is that deliberate, or just a manifestation of the occultism and crime with which I am being targeted?  Is it just her way of coping?  Does the audience want to hear it?  The woman upstairs has just shouted out sharply, right into my emotions (Edit: I think it was hallelujah but I’m not sure now.  As I was checking this over it said aai, but that isn’t something I use and I don’t know how it got there).

You savage, irresponsible, stupid bastard(s).

Men here tend not to respect a woman who actually looks as if she has been or is being abused.  From my memory, it isn’t that much different at home.  What are you trying to do to me?  Do you even know?  If a policeman rapes me of dignity with his eyes and attitude, how can I ask him for help?  I need to go in with my own dignity, and you insist on stripping it away and letting it be stripped.

These people have held me hostage for eight weeks.  I’m about to lose my home, because my landlord is in contempt of the fact that I left to get away from the bullying and want to go back when it is sorted out.  They refuse to recognise it is even happening, and therefore offer no help to sort it out.  If my neighbours say something, I get a psychiatric visit and maybe even hospitalisation, if I say anything, and my neighbours say it isn’t true, that for my landlord and every other authority involved is the end of the story.

Etc.

I wasn’t going to write this much.  You are getting all of this by your own torture, and that of others that you hand me over to.  She is a criminal witch.  My feelings begin to return to me and she purrs hallelujah.  Oh God, bring this man, and those like him, and those in my neighbourhood who abuse me because of what they put into the communities I enter into, bring them to account.

In everything but literal fact, they are murderers.  The feelings you are handing me over to of needing to recognise and co-operate with these violence-and-hallelujah-toting people are gross and illegal.  You should not do this to me, you are wrong.

Here he comes with the ‘out’ word again.  There is no point me trying to go any further.  I will just sound stupid. 

Even if my feelings about what I have written have changed, it remains, because throughout, the onslaught of devices, illegally acquired, to modify those feeling, has been in use, including the use of sequences of numbers.  He just mimicked the voice of my critical method lecturer, who has himself been a playwright and involved in the media, and finished it off with a reference to ‘sanitary’ conditions.  To me that felt really indecent.  The woman upstairs just coughed, as she always does when I realise and feel happy about the fact that I begin to feel able to start expressing myself precisely, accurately, clearly and appropriately, and it knocks my mind and emotions off-balance again.  On the tv they are striking surfaces again, like a personal ‘we must control this’, whatever the perceived object of necessary control, and Peter Dobbie has just handed over, at 11.20am UK time, to the sports presenter, with an emotional tone of disappointment, and I just thought,’spare me the fake emotion’.  The woman’s voice upstairs, with her hallelujahs, is becoming more insistent and aggressive and hard and hateful.  And in their commentaries, the presenters are re-enacting and rehashing the narrative of my own experience and writing, and I think this also is deliberate and criminally accessed.  I haven’t posted this one yet.  Maybe they are using the material from past posts, but that is not a responsible way to communicate.

My post is ruined.  I carry on in hysteria, feeling and believing I have to make things clear, then people taunt me over its length and unreadability.  He talked about compassion earlier, and he is coming on with it heavy now, and is talking about ‘slash’ and trouble, and the use is deliberate, and ‘slash’ is one of the things he was making psychological and subliminally targeted reference to when he talked about ‘the small matter’ I started off with in this post.  ‘Slash’ – coarse slang for urinate.  Nintendo Wii, slash in web addresses – there are many other popularised expressions of a similar nature which I believe have been deliberately created for psychological haunting and to be woven into the mix.

I believe also they deliberately grab at me like this psychologically before deliberately going into and imposing verbal incoherence.  I think it is an attack on my writing and that their presentation is deliberately incontinent and incoherent.  I insist that is the truth, and I think it is gross and evil.

As I now perceive it, this woman has accused me to my neighbours, and is now constantly shouting out painfully and sickenly sweet hallelujahs.  She stood on the balcony, shouting, weeks ago, the first time I heard her, doing her best to make her voice sound sweet.  It affects my mind.  It’s gross and it makes my mind feel dulled.  And when I was screaming in pain and distress, when I was taken to hospital, no one in my block came anywhere near me to see if I was OK.  And no one has said anything since.  Except for the constant harassment and violence.  Maybe me seeing it like that is just my own mind’s negativity, but I don’t know.  Whatever, the harassment and violence which obviously is harassment and violence has to be stopped.

I will not submit to this woman with her antenna constantly attuned to shout as I try to pursue and examine a thought.  I will not.  I cannot.  I should not.  What has David put into my mind here?  She is making me emotionally sick.

Obviously, I would be the mad woman.

I just heard some of the talk going on in Parliament about nice despots.  That is the impression I got anyway. So I thought I had better say something in my defence before I am made to look a more complete idiot than I actually am.

Practically, despots are made, not born.  What has happened in this man’s life that kindness and respect, rather than censure and name-calling, just might put right?  Is an expression of love ever wrong or inappropriate?  After people fight me down over my anger, even if it is an appropriate feeling, I still end up loving them, even feeling I like them, but by that time so much has been said and done it is a much more embarrassing feeling for me.

But then there is the stalking of which I am constantly aware, so that obviously affects the way I relate to people.

Practically from my point of view, my softness on Gadaffi might be for two reasons.  I only say might, the only information I have is what is thrown at me, I don’t know him.

Reason 1.  I don’t know my history (even if I did I might want to approach it as a therapist, not a judge).

Reason 2. My life has been filled with despotic/insecure/silently-wounded authority figures that people have insisted I should love, respect, obey and be grateful for.  My father, my grandfather, some of my teachers, some of my Church leaders?, some of the police, some of my psychiatrists and other psychiatric staff, neighbours, landlords, employers, fellow employees, some media people.  Etc, etc.  To me, both verbal and physical abuse and assault have been involved, and slander and defamation, and I was still expected to live with it and told it was OK, that the law allowed it, or they didn’t mean it, or it was just the way they were, or to get over it because it was a long time ago, or no one cared to give me an answer anyway.  Much of this has affected my life in negative ways, some of them irrevocable.

So those feelings which I have been brainwashed and tortured into feeling, the rationalisations I have been forced to adopt, are transferred to world despots, and I feel sympathy for them.  Or a sense of duty towards them.  I suppose sympathy, if I feel in any way filial, or identify with them in their despotism and what might have shaped and railroaded them into that.

I can’t write anymore.  The woman in my personal torture-chamber upstairs is murdering my thoughts and emotions and leaving me feeling so desperate and like minced meat.  They are violent and invasive and disrespectful of my privacy and harassing. Am I a target of evangelism, or is it milk the Anglichanka, or what?  Here Anglichanka, me , Anglichanka, I’m a baby bird, feed me, I’m good.  Don’t know.  They are violent and very personally invasive.  And I can’t think straight.  They are grabbing at my life and emotions like children with toys, sticking needles in me and sucking out the nectar, and saying I have to go to them to get it back.  That is how it feels.  Enough already, they insinuate themselves into everything.

Check It Out

Please check today’s updates of my ‘Odd Thoughts’ page.  Thanks.

[This is all there was, then . . .]

When I first published this it didn’t appear, a few minutes ago.  I don’t know why.  I have published things with more tags than this.  Maybe WordPress, or someone, has decided it is spam, or something.

[Then this is all there was, then . . .]

I don’t know what you media people want, pumping the stuff you pump into my communities, taking accusations from them, and making me desperate, but it is deeply and seriously illegal, what you are doing to me.  Zeinab Badawi, for example, imposing your accusation just before running. 7.27 pm UK time.

(She’s back on.  She said it was the end of the programme and goodbye.  They are playing vicious and torturing mind games.  I want these people charged and stripped.  I want them away from anything I have to watch.  It is criminal deception, harassment, torture and illusionism.  it is NOT a choice between corrupt media and corrupt leaders, religious or secular.  They all have to stop.  They have to stop.  This is personal, criminal harassment, not just a different world view.  And appearing nice sometimes does not mean that this kind of criminal harassment, often sadisitic and supported by sadistic and occult methods encouraged in the community through all kinds of media communication – drama, entertainment, ‘factual’ – should go unpunished. 

I choose not to identify this as specifically anti-religious or anti-Christian persecution, because not every victim is religious or Christian.  I will not deny my emotions when writing, these people are evil, and taunting, and base.  They have been talking today about savings banks and saying it as ‘spanks’, and they just emphasised it.  I am completely reduced, emotionally.  They do it, and encourage my neighbours to do it to me, or someone encourages them.  They are taking permission from each other, and where once I might have laughed, I laugh no longer.  I’m a foreign woman on my own in a country I don’t understand using a language I don’t have extensive command of, in fact minimal, and this is savage and unforgivable.  I want to be at peace with this country, I want a future here, because I can afford it, anyone could, and it’s a nice country, and beautiful just about everywhere.  What they are doing is sabotage.  I appeal to Bulgaria.  They are encouraging my neighbours to cut my throat and drink the blood pouring out.  Or rather, they are cutting my throat themselves then letting others take over.  My fellow countrymen.  My country’s media, my country’s leaders.  Is there monetary reward involved?  I was watching ‘Something For The Weekend’ yesterday, and the guests were from a drama about vampires.  It isn’t ‘fun’.  There is serious intent.  There is serious, instructional, witchcraft literature out there.  Some practitioners and people who say they understand insist that witchcraft is benign, but my understanding is that sometimes people are cursed, and sometimes criminality and harm, including kiling, is involved.  Even if it is farmed out to people who call themselves satanists rather than witches.  But I don’t know.  I got it from some books (This Present Darkness, Piercing The Darkness).

Zeinab Badawi keeps saying a strong and final goodbye, then coming back.  In my hysteria it keeps me off-balance and wrong-footed, with spiritual blood pouring from my throat, and in the middle of recovery, my violent, illegal, occult neighbours bang or say ‘hallelujah’.  Or at any hint of self-doubt or self-examination, albeit silent, she swoops in, like a vulture, shouting ‘hallelujah’.  Are they also hacking my computer?  Them also, as well as others?  Silent hours here in Bulgaria are between 10 pm and 6 am.  My neighbours don’t observe those times, they target me anytime.  They walk over me or bang, as if I am some sort of conquest or prey.  They wake me up, or audibly launch something felt as a psychic attack, at every point of going deep, every day, at legal and illegal hours, awake or asleep, often asleep.  Anything I do is retaliation, not initiation.  The retaliation of an invalidated and systematically tortured person, not someone whose human rights are being respected and protected.

Obviously it isn’t only me they (media) are trying to confuse.  I don’t think they have a right to treat anyone this way, not even those they tag terrorists and despots.  Why can’t our news agencies be conciliatory, instead of mocking, derisive, deceitful, hypnotic and disrespectful?  We are all people.  They shouldn’t treat any of us like that.  How can there be peace and reconciliation without honesty, vulnerability and respect?

Gadaffi told Jeremy Bowen not to say that he understood the system, because he didn’t understand, Gadaffi said.  I don’t believe Gadaffi was right.  I believe Jeremy Bowen understood the system, but did not respect it or Libya’s right to it.  The west does not have the right to go in and help overthrow a non-democratic rule, just because discontent with that legal rule has been created in people who ask them to come in and help a rebellion or protect rebels.  It isn’t our turf.  It is enforcement of western values on the legitimate and legal leadership of another country, and whatever bodies our leaders and media use for their appeal to us to believe that what they are doing is right, I don’t believe those bodies legally support going into another country and undermining the laws that were understood by every party involved at the time any agreement was entered into.  In the face of such western corruption, I, of all people more qualified than some, can understand how Gadaffi can be made to look like a madman.  (What follows is an attempt to replicate a far bigger chunk of text than is normally lost when my browser crashes).  He is probably crazy with righteous indignation and pain, at least in this situation.  His rule in his own country is legal, according to the country’s laws, which we have always understood, and we should respect that, regardless of any historical acts of international terrorism, which should not be corruptly and deceitfully and manipulatively brought into play to shape how we should understand the present situation.  What is happening now has nothing to do with the assassination of a police officer called Yvonne Fletcher.  On a human level, having experienced some of the things I have, I feel sympathy for the man Gadaffi.  I have to.  If I abandon sympathy I abandon my own humanity.

I understand now, I think, what these people are doing to me.  They use language and close lookalikes and act alikes and name alikes of family and friends and teachers, to keep me sentimentally controlled, then unleash a complete onslaught on me when I break out and write something like this.  Even steal a massive chunk of text, larger than I would normally lose, even though what I have now written is augmented.  Katty Kay just started with an intimate, affectionate-sounding tone, then lived up to her name and went into something ugly and catty sounding.  Emotional betrayal.  Planned betrayal.  I know people will understand what I am saying here, and I hope it will also be obvious why I choose not to come into close physical contact with people who behave towards me this way, using their own and other people’s torture and criminality, inflicting emotional and spiritual pain and happy to have others inflict it on me, scrambling my thoughts and scrambling my speech.  I choose not to come into close voluntary contact with this, unless they legally commit themselves to whatever their intentions are, whether that be arrest and imprisonment, or whatever.  I want to know what I can expect to have to face.  I have that right.  Yes I do.  I am as happy to appear in court and go to prison as I am to be compensated, but I have a right, and a need, as someone already traumatised by incarceration in the mental health system and corruption and neglect and inadequacy and incompetence and violence from authroities, to know and have explicitly and formally expressed in a way which is legally binding, what people’s intentions towards me are. 

I am not a bitch.  I respect the rights of another country’s leadership not to have their legal leadership, according to their own laws, interfered with.  I choose to respect that and make that my position, regardless of my personal feelings, whatever they may be.  This kind of disrespect from the leaders of our country to the leaders of theirs does not promote peace or understanding, in Libya or between Libya and the UK, now or in the future.  I believe that is the truth.  What it does promote is the westernisation of a Middle Eastern country on which we are dependent for oil, and going by Iraq (yes) that westernisation might be unsuccessful or carry a backlash and resentment or rejection in the future, leading to unrest.  I completely understand that, to some extent, I am just being fashionably liberal and posturing as left wing.  But this is still my honest reasoning, and I don’t want any other.  Please, I really don’t.  I really don’t want to view it differently in any way, and I want my view to be practicable.  Because although it is, in this instance, presented as being about the character of Gadaffi and what, to many English people, are the undesirable politics of Libya, the principle must be that the legal boundaries of another country and it’s leadership should not be transgressed by a country outside, whatever the appeal, unless, maybe, a criminal act as defined by the country’s own laws has been committed by the administration.  And I am ignorant, factually.  I might be wrong and that might be the case.  In which case I am embarrassed again.  Katty Kay is tongue lashing.

This post started out as a one liner.

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’.

‘How much do you think you are worth, boy?/Will anyone stand up and say?/Do you think that your life is worth nothing/Til someone is willing to pay?’ Graham Kendrick.

I just had a real stray dog of a thought, bit of a sick animal.  I was thinking about Nero, playing the fiddle while Rome burned.  I thought maybe he didn’t do the wrong thing.  Maybe it was the right thing to do.  Was there anything else he could have done?

Then I thought wait a minute, he was a ruler.  There must have been something else he could have done?

But we aren’t all Nero, and rulers.  Man, I must be sick.  I’m thinking for some of us it might be exactly the right thing to do.

I think all I really mean is that I wish people wouldn’t pull worst case examples out of the hat and use them to put pressure on people where the comparison is completely inappropriate.

We can pray.  Of course we can pray, if we are religious.  I was going to say Christians then realised Christianity isn’t the only religion that encourages and advocates prayer.

There was a bit of a dialogue going on a few years ago, between ‘prayer changes things’ and ‘prayer changes people’.  The latter position says that, even if your circumstances and situation don’t change when you pray, you will change, and maybe consequently your situation will as well.

I had a conversation on the phone yesterday with a lady from my credit card company.  We got talking about coincidences because the number of my new card was similar to the number of the other new card which I didn’t receive.  I asked her if she had unsettling coincidences in her life as I had in mine, and we mentioned phone numbers. She said that her phone number was almost the same as her friend’s number, but with the numbers reversed.  I told her about my Skype number, and that one of the options offered was the first three numbers of my landline followed by the last four of my critical method lecturer’s phone number.  I rejected it, just stopped trying to get a number, then decided I’d quite like it, but when I looked again a few seconds later, it was no longer available.  Strange.  Instead I ended up with another one, which had the first two numbers of the last part of his number reversed, and the last two numbers of the last part of his number reversed, all in the last part of my number.

That number has lapsed now, I might have to start with a new one.

So I’m assuming a lot of people are subject to these ‘coincidences’.  Coincidences?  And what are they doing to our minds?  And what aberations are they causing in our behaviour and reasoning?

I’m thinking about the marches and demonstrations.  Maybe I shouldn’t be.  But is that really the best and most effective and responsible way to express discontent and dissatisfaction?  Especially in the internet age, when networking and communication about these things can be obvious and open, as a march is.  Surely internet action could be given the same kind of news coverage as a march? I think it should be.  For a start, there were thousands of police at the march yesterday, and have been and will be in attendance at other marches and demonstrations.  That is thousands of man hours and probably tens of thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of pounds.  Does that help us economically?  Or does it add an extra drain?

I wouldn’t like to condone violence and damage to property in demonstrations, but I do realise there is discontent among us, the little people, at the bottom of the pile, while the big business and banking employers march off with tons of wealth. Sometimes anger comes out violently, with everyone, to some degree or other.

I think the news agencies need to make a big shift away from the sensationalism of demonstrations and that internet action needs to be highlighted instead and positively encouraged as an alternative.  And if people want a family fun day out, maybe a march isn’t the best thing?  Perhaps something which would add immediately to the quality of their lives and maybe to the economy would be better?

That isn’t a stray dog, and I didn’t have this in mind when I started, but I think it is a brilliant and responsible and progressive idea and am sure other people must have had it as well.

Then that stupid woman upstairs, with her violent male (if it isn’t her) and all the neighbours knowing what is going on and doing nothing, maybe even part of it, shouted hallelujah.  Whatever the dynamic and explanation, she does it every time my mind comes in to land.  It makes me feel I am being unreasonable losing it in a situation like this, because I am just telling myself that if I didn’t get upset at what they are doing, I wouldn’t need to calm down, and this wouldn’t happen, and everything would be OK.  They impose a sound or vocalisation over everything I do here, whether it is turning on the television, or something on my computer, and if I go into thought it is something that continues, as I have just said.  They have been messing about over my shower and toilet for ages, and today I was having a shower and they started a commentary over me, and I shouted at them to go away, and one of them hammered on my ceiling.  They have been like this almost non-stop for 8 weeks.  If I cough in the middle of the night, she complains with savage contempt and anger in her voice.  And whatever she does, she has to bring herself back to an innocent little girl voice, and I’m still living with what they do.  Today I realised that, at least for a moment, I had turned my shocked and frightened animal reaction to her hallelujahs into a duck.  I just ducked it and smiled and thought, yeah, this is OK, I can do this, I don’t have to be ruled by it’.  Then about 5 or 10 minutes later she shouted it out again, only this time it was more aggressive, and I had an ‘I don’t believe this’ reaction.  She does it just about every day, every 10 or 15 minutes or so.

Now, hallelujah is for me a heart word.  Does that mean I owe this woman anything?  I’m not sure she is even a Christian, she just uses the word.  Jesus is also a heart word.  Someone in computing knows that, because Iwas in a computer shop the other day, and saw an advert for something called ‘Asus’ or Isus’ or something, and it said, ‘it touches the heart’.  To me that is a misappropriation of language.  That kind of misappropriation of language is responsible for a lot of distress and violent feelings in society which are sometimes converted into action and mental illness.  It is deliberate, and aggressive as advertising and brainwashing are, and even violent.  I think I have just realised, since it has been going on for so long with such clockwork regularity, it must be deliberate, the hallelujahs, and she is deliberately using brainwashing and torture techniques.  As soon as I said so, they banged violently on my ceiling again.  I’m a nice person.  I like people.  They can’t treat me like this, it is inhumanly cruel.

I don’t run and get out immediately.  I still have too much of the mental coping mechanism and muscle memory of not being able to run away from frightening and anger-inducing behaviour from both staff and patients on a locked ward.  Also i have no confidence in the authorities over this anyway once they discover I have a mental health diagnosis, they are more likely, judging from past experience, to have me put back in hospital, than todeal with the deliberate violence and harassment which has started in a brand new place with no provocation from me whatsoever.   As my home this should be my refuge.  They have turned it into a place of torture.  I want to dissolve in tears all the time, I want to fall into the arms of those who are harassing me with violence and think maybe I’m imagining the harassment and violence and all I need to do is dissolve and go to them and say i’m sorry and everything will be OK.  Thinking like that is the nearest I ever get to seeing normality on the horizon.  I daren’t go to the police, even though it seems I obviously have to, if they are going to react to me with the disdain that people here react to Roma and people they call gypsys, like someone did me the other day, because I feel volatile and that also wouldn’t be tolerated, and having been abused for so long I’m a bit of a mess, and people don’t sympathise with you for that here, they treat you with disgust, even more than they do in the UK.  They judge you.  If you are a mess it is your fault.  I suppose that is an easy mistake to make, with so many abusive media and government people looking so smart and the picture of innocence.

Anyway, I was going to say, I’m watching Animal Planet, and a man was handling an animal with his legs, and it reminded me of when I saw a man in the West End, lying on the street as if asleep, and the police came to move him on, and when he didn’t move, one of them shoved him with his foot.  This isn’t an isolated incident, and I’ve had equivalent things done to me, but people like the squeeky clean church brigade advise people that, if they have committed any crimes, they should go to these people, these thugs, and confess their crime.  Yes, thugs, whatever the consequences.  I know too much about them.  And certainly I don’t feel able to go to them with crimes of harassment and violence which are being committed against me, with the sweet little girl trusting adoring attitude, or just togetherness, which appears to be required here.

I was angry the other day about the language used about sports teams and people.  how much they talk about punishment and humiliation and being humbled and similar things.  They must feel this, and it must affect their behaviour.  A day or two ago I saw a sportsman on BBC World News, delivering the most grovelling and abject apology and saying how they had been given chances and how they had offended everyone, etc, etc, and if this is what they are being made to feel is required of them, as people, the hypocrisy of those who require it of them makes me feel sick, and I’m glad I don’t contribute financially to that world.

I had a ring at my door about 20 minutes ago.  I felt nervous and defiant for a second and almost didn’t answer.  Then I thought it might be the postman, so I picked up my intercom phone and answered.  I said ‘hello’, 3 times, and there was no response.  Realistically I suspect it was my harassing neighbours, who shout and hallelujah and screw their voices round to ghostly and tap over my apartment, and worse, when I challenge them.

I was also afraid it might be the police, who might have come on the strength of what they have been told about my recent responses to the harassment, which have been desperate and unpleasant.  Every time I try mentally to break the feeling of my neighbours’ control and think for myself, she goes ‘hallelujah’ today, in a way which goes straight to my stomach.  As I said yesterday, people on UK news programmes are imitating them and me, and I think they are latching on to each other for control.  I’ve wonderd where they have got some of their information from, on BBC World News, and have thought perhaps my neighbours are recording it and passing it on.  It’s a good impression with some of the content. But my neighbours keep doing this spiritualistic stuff which is harassment, and are they also passing stuff on to the media, who got them started in the first place?  I know they did, because of what they were saying and dumb-showing.

Anyway, within 5 minutes of my doorbell ringing, I had an email land in my spam folder, claiming to be an invitation from an organisation called ‘Someone2Do’.  Police do people, right?  Who is responsible for this?  I get a lot of situationally and relationally relevant emails like this and have for years.

I get really afraid and desperate.  Am I the only person who can understand why and doesn’t think it is abnormal that I should or a sign of mental illness?  People have been insisting for years that it is a sign of mental illness.  i think it is a sign of some sort of gang or mafia type stalking, if not government.  You say this kind of thing and media people always treat it as a joke and the person who thinks it as crazy.  But a lot of people know it is anything but, so what do these people have to hide that they consistently treat it and us with anger and intimidation and contempt and ridicule?  The woman on now has just said ‘our team’ like RT, as in R T Kendall.  Sophie someone, one of the many Sofie’s who has come out since I have been in Bulgaria (Sofia is the capital of Bulgaria).

Edit note:  While I was writing this someone started with a drill upstairs.  I’m wondering now if it was him come to explain that he was doing some work.  But no one answered my door when I answered the bell.  It isn’t OK.

Anti-Psychiatry

I’m really embarrassed that, as someone who has never really believed in psychiatry, and as someone who lost her father to death by overdose at the age of 11, I have got to the age of 50 and never pursued the anti-psychiatry movement with any degree of commitment.

Although I am against the psychiatric view of people and their problems, I know that I am nervous of psychiatric patients and ex-psychiatric patients and don’t really want to spend time with them.

One of the reasons for this is that I think we are all too desperate, and in our own minds too undermined.  Most of the time we are grasping desperately, even at each other.

Another reason is that I think we develop a self-protective dishonesty, even if we didn’t have it before.  I’m not going in there in this post.

Another reason is that, in a structured group, the people running it, in my experience, are usually people who validate the psychiatric approach, or at least won’t speak against it.  For an angry and volatile anti-psychiatrist, like myself, that is not a good place to be.

Today I feel that my life has failed to mean anything, because I have failed to follow this in a committed way, when following it and investigating it properly was my obvious duty, as my father’s daughter.

I put ‘anti psychiatry’ into Google as a search term.  I’ve just started reading the first of the results that came up, the website www.antipsychiatry.org.  It looks as if it has some very well-written articles.

There is a whole school of thought behind this, from the 60s at least.  R D Laing I’ve known about for some time.  I didn’t know Foucault was one of them.

This might sound really selfish, but I feel really upset.  My life could have made so much more sense and been so much richer, if I had only known this before.  To me the obvious reason that I feel this way is that I feel I have something in common with these academics and might have grown up with them and in contact with them.  Obviously that doesn’t necessarily follow.  The feeling I have is, ‘oh no, not you.  I didn’t know you were into that.  Why didn’t you tell me?’, as if they knew me to tell me and I have always been a part of this community and I’ve got lost.  Or something.  I don’t know much about them anyway, I only know their names.  I don’t know why they seem to mean that much to me.  I never studied them adequately when they were part of my education, and they probably just represent this (supposedly) wonderful thing, education, to me, and the youthful ideal of education is what is invoked for me when I read or hear their names. 

What I am thinking, whether I like it or not, is that if I knew something about their lives, I might not be so keen to identify with them in their anti-psychiatric views and see them as the best proponents.  I don’t know anything about their lives.  Even if I did and didn’t like what I knew, that wouldn’t necessarily invalidate what they have to say.  People don’t like my life.  That might make me an embarrassment to my beliefs, or not, but in itself it doesn’t invalidate them.  Right beliefs are right beliefs, whoever holds them.  Like the belief that two and two make four doesn’t become untrue because of the life of the person who holds it.  And I have been taught two things about the universe, that it is both mathematical and moral.

Lady ‘hallelujah every time I cough or anything’ harassment upstairs has been on for the last half hour or so, latching onto my cough and my audio.  She’s doing my brain and my feelings in.  She’s savage.  I don’t know what I mean or what I’m talking about as long as this is going on.  I feel that maybe I never will again.  She is the nearest I have been to a demon and this is the nearest I have been to living with possession.  They frighten me so much.  It is so indecent and spiritually and psychologically violent, I feel beaten about the head just about all the time.  They combine violence and rejection and indecent invasion with a santa madre scenario.  Both at the same time I want to break down in totally reduced and beaten tears, and hit back.  They have been playing a locking and shutting doors game every time they hear me in the corridor recently.  She says ‘hallelujah’ when I cough.  What is wrong with this stupid moron?  Is she frightened of me or something?  Why can’t I cough and fart, etc, in peace, without this indecent and terrifying and desperation-inducing invasiveness?  I really can’t take it much more, and I wish some of these people who want me to think of them as friends (whether they are or not) would listen to me and help me and get me away from them.

I’m wondering if the idea is to make as much invasive and control-taking sound as they can, coming up to 10pm when everything is supposed to go silent, and then just shut up?

http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b00zmc6f/The_King_James_Bible_The_Book_That_Changed_the_World/

Available until 9pm (8.59) tonight for watching or download.

I’m opening a new file – the VW FILE – Vulnerable Women Fall In Love Easily.

In this case the name came before the acronym.  Good though, innit?  On so many levels it would be a really long post if I wrote the explanation that suggests itself.

I was just watching BBC World News again.  It is the only British based news channel I can get on my television.  It’s about 9.30 am UK time.  (edit note: I think I’ve got it.  These people need a catastrophe to make full use of what they are doing and the way they stalk me.  If it isn’t a catastrophe what they do jars with the mind much more.  They absolutely love it.  They have faced this kind of thing so many times, much of the concern and grief must be acted.  Like charity fatigue, it must be, surely.  They are no different from the rest of us.  Just criminals.  Da Boga.  Rasbiram. 2.17 pm UK the woman sounds angry, and she is lashing language in a reversal, psychologically, and because I know it’s happening and the malice and criminality behind it, I find it intimidating and terrifying.  That is how I am supposed to find it.  It is open contempt.  She just slipped Premier in.  Look at her.  Butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.  As my grandmother used to say.  And she knew.  And I think now that she knew because it was happening when she was alive. Nice one.  ‘Let’s kit’ followed by a disciplinarian ‘who is in control of . . .?’  And I think they are deliberately coming on acting drugged and half asleep.  On the basis that they are opposing the strongest people they stalk in the most appropriate way to hurt them, making them look out of it and mental or hypnotised and psychologically clubbed, as they are, and traumatised, because they know that you become what you look at, so they put it out, these most of them acting trained people, as a blanket policy for everything they do.  They have just hit a surface, like batting a fly away.  The programme was ‘Impact’.  She went out on ‘engineers’, slipped in like a date rape drug.  John Coles and John Knight at St Barnabas Church in Finchley are engineers, and that is where this most painful part of my life started.  And my bastard, sabotaging neighbours, trying to silence me but not going to the police.  They must be criminals in other ways, as well as over this.  They just banged at the end of that sentence.  She shouts something that sounds like shut up as soon as my tv goes on, and interjects at points, taking control, because at the moment she can because I think she can.  I’ve just said I’m going to the police, but they let me down in my last place, and they have let me down for years, in the UK.  It’s the right thing to do, it’s what I should do, but they don’t do what they should do, and they intimidate me and make it obvious that they despise me, if I get the wrong ones, and I always seem to.  It can’t just be me.  Peter Dobbie who has just come on, his voice moved and warmed to my feeling of self-doubt while I was writing this.  They talk in a place just out of the reach of letting you feel.  It is policy.  I think I heard it, but am not sure, in Bob Geldof on the Robert Elms Show, and he looked very sheepish and caught out the next day on The One Show.  I have both recorded.  This next man just sped up his speech in a tongue lashing way to talk about ‘shutting down’, and they keep shouting.  I’m not the only one who shouldn’t have to put up with that.  For me it feels like an accusation because I shout and become hysterical.  Everybody who communicates anything also knows this is true, but they leave me in it.  That is treacherous and devilish.  For me and everyone else they do it to.  And we are many.  They are shouting over, projecting.  It’s spiritual interference and molestation, and my neighbours are feeding on it, and on me, like vultures.  Not like disciples of Christ feeding on His body and blood.  This is different.  End of edit note.)

I am so much under siege, it is the rubbish, and not the story, that I tune into.  I’m terrified of it so sensitised to it.  What I am really terrified of is the way I am being treated where I am, my reactions to it and the total contempt and hatred they are met with.  I think that is called rejection, in this case aggravated rejection. The so-called Christians upstairs are doing psychological interrogation and appear to be insisting that I go to them on their terms.  Every time I concentrate on something she shouts hallelujah, really aggressively from deep down, not just in her voice, or someone bangs.  They go between all those things and whining, if I say anything, she will get on top of it with the exact opposite of what she hears in my voice. If my voice is strong she sweets and tweets, and if I sweet and tweet she comes back with something that sounds really awful.  I think we are at war!  I coughed today.  I feel really inhibited about coughing, because they always put a sound on top of it, strike a surface or comment or something.  So first I coughed with deliberate insistence, then I coughed the cough I wanted to cough.  They immediately struck a surface, and I went wild.  I have said they are using spiritualism, I have said they are thugs, I have called them interrogators and Satanists, I know and they know they are using interrogation and torture techniques and violence.  I have repeatedly said if they have a problem they should go to the police instead of doing what they are doing, and that the fact that they don’t makes them criminals, especially since they continue in what they are doing and have not apologised.  She speaks a bit of English, I don’t know how much.   Enough to confront me with a ‘how dare you, behave yourself’ look and say ‘what’s the matter?  Shut up!’  I don’t know if she has more than that.  She put on a head-cocking show outside my apartment the other day.  I think now she did it on purpose and that she deliberately pretended she didn’t know I was there.  But I saw her husband/boyfriend, and he was acting like a very naughty thug, who knew what he had been doing and that he had been doing it deliberately and was a bit embarrassed that I had actually seen him.

But anyway, I’ve started writing to complain about BBC World News again.  As I said, it was about 9.30 am when I started this post (hello, nice to make contact, I love writing, the sun is shining and it makes me feel really happy).  If I knew her name I would use it, she is Indian or somewhere around there, she has long hair (can I say it as it is?) and an expression that looks as if she has tasted something horrible, like a lemon or something.  Maybe that is because of me.  When I first put the tv on (it was on for about 20 minutes)  they did their usual strong ‘OFF’ bit, followed it up with something that sounded like ‘schitz’, which I immediately took as a kind invitation then felt annoyed and said to myself, maybe out loud, I can’t remember, ‘I might if you get my name right’.  But I continued to listen and as I did I found myself allowing the changes in my perception and that the thing they said was the thing they meant and not the interpretation I put on it, and I felt ashamed of having refused the label, because the label got my attention and accepting it and the change in my perception, I felt, went together.  Wanting and accepting the change in perception depended on me accepting the label, at least at that time in that context, and maybe always.  I wasn’t watching at the time, I was making breakfast, which here is late, we are two hours ahead.  So I wasn’t overwhelmed with sensory information.

I came to sit down and saw who it was, and continued to watch and think whatever I wanted to think, partly that her accent modulated between levels of  ‘poshness’, thinking that was an annoying thing they had got from – well, I don’t know, now I think of it.  But her voice changed a little, and she said something I’ve forgotten now but picked up from a Bulgarian estate agent’s website.  Since they use a lot of this in definite clusters it seems obvious to me this was deliberate again, I had no hesitation in recognising it as so.  I’ve remembered.  It was ‘and yet’.  It sticks out to me because it is a slightly poor translation.  When it is used on the website it usually means something like ‘also’.  When she said it she rasped and cleared her throat in what seemed to me to be a pointed and significant way, and it seems obvious to me it was a coded recognition that I was watching, either because they have been physically informed by some kind of commercial network employee, or through some sort of psychic sensing.

But I thought something about it today which I haven’t thought before, and even as I approach the thought it seems ridiculous and an embarrassing thing even to have thought.  Just crazy paranoia.  But I’ve often felt a bit sorry for them because I’ve thought perhaps they don’t know anything about me and are just reading what they have been given to read, but this time I thought she was telling someone that I was watching and asking for ‘appropriate’ material.

She did what they always do: ‘here’s one, here’s one, here’s one, here’s one’  with bits of my information, then she went out on an aggressive, psychologically violent and aggressive and provocative rush of words, leaving me feeling as if she was shouting at me or telling me off right into my face and wanting to shout back.  I did, after being afraid and trying to resist it for a few seconds.  But if I’m going to feel better, and maybe if I’m going to be able to stop them, if there is a level of psychic stuff involved, I’ve got to stop telling myself not to do it and just let it go, straightaway, and not be afraid.  That is how I feel.  I think they are relying on me being afraid and inhibited.  It might not be psychic at all on any level, it might just be abuse.

I was thinking as well, yesterday, that Peter Dobbie comes on and he is very insistent and serious in an almost fatherly way about ‘correcting’ the things I have said that are ‘wrong’ or that I have ‘misunderstood’.  Like a teacher.  So that seems to be an acknowledgment.  That is obvious.  Why?  And he shouldn’t be doing it.  I really don’t think he should.  And who is he doing it for?  Me, or other viewers?  Is it a public image control thing, for the channel?

Got to go to the post office today.  I’ve got some mail waiting for me.  I’ve got some things I’m waiting for, so I hope it is them.

I hate failing and being humiliated, anywhere.  I asked myself today why I am hanging on here so much, since I knew I hadn’t come to stay forever and that it is only rented.  I realised it is because I have no faith for the future, that if I go out of here on a low and with things really bad, it is going to follow me as it always has.  Not because it is me, but because people are pursuing me with it.  Robb Thompson, wily old codger, says if things are always bad for you in relationships, guess what the common factor is – you.  I’ve never been able to swallow that.  I’ve tried, but I’ve had to go into a ‘yes, he’s right’ mode to do so.  It is actually a quite insolent and contemptuous thing to confront someone with, I think.  People learn from experience.  In my case I’ve decided if things are always bad for me in relationships, someone got there before me and queered my patch.  Guess what the common factor is?  The slander and persecution of my stalkers.  I might be wrong.  I might just be in the wrong place, but I don’t think so entirely.

OK that’s enough.  I’m going to go about my life today.  I don’t know what is going on upstairs, but every time I pause to think about how I want to say something or how I want to change it, as soon as I go to try, they speak.  It’s freaky.  I’m not sure what is causing it, but it is invasive, and when I apply myself to it I feel guilty about resenting it because I think the whole thing might just be a manifestation of my bad conscience about what is happening between us.  I don’t know if they have any authority from anyone actually behind them in this, I wonder if it is church, I wonder if it is mafia, I wonder if it is all sorts of things, or if they are just using things they have picked up from the media about how to keep me in check.  Even with the Japanese crisis the media are still contriving to present it to make me believe reports to the police and mental health authorities are being submitted about me and I’d be best to watch my step.  But it feels as if they are not saying it to me but about me, that is what is most frightening.

I know who some of the people are who read this, and I think they are very unkind, cynical and irresponsible, knowing this, not to communicate with me properly and directly.  They see me fearing this and asking these questions and saying these things, and no concrete communication is made, just things that leave me feeling guilty and sheepish and disempowered because they are not actually given to me.  In fact some of them, even in parliament, play the same game.

I know they use code.  I had Something For The Weekend on last night and there was a clip about a counter-terrorism thing and I thought maybe the reason they get so upset is that it is code designed for counter-terrorism purposes.  But then I think, ‘so what if it is?  I’m not close enough to be in a position to say anything that will be harmful’.  So why is it that every time I talk about someone, they come on looking guilty and caught out and defensive, or angry?  Is it unrelated or related?  Is it something to do with me, or is it just trickery, media and parliamentary?  And church, I suppose.  Should I have refrained from writing this when I was confronted on a very strong feeling level by an image of David Cameron in distress just as I was about to write about code? 

I know the answer, the answer has to be ‘yes’.  This is my rationale:  my computer is being hacked;  David would have known I was about to write about code but stopped; because I had stopped (and they even seem to know the things that go on in my head, so he would have known about the image as well and been moved by the fact that I allowed it to stop me) he would have sought me out directly to help me; because I didn’t stop, he won’t directly offer his help; if I hadn’t written, he still might not have offered his help, and I would still be stuck on my own with the burden of what I am thinking; he has tried so hard to make it clear in the past (this is part of my rationale) that he wants to help me, I feel so guilty, and because I am bound in my situation by this awful couple who physically invade my every thought, we could not possibly connect.  Their silences after the invasions make me anxious, and that leads to a schizo moment where I am deeply convicted that everything I have just said is completely wrong.  Are they praying, are they holding a seance, do they, or what the hell is going on here?  This woman goes between sweet and acid just to keep control, and I can’t take it, it is making me really hysterical.  I think she is impersonating my as well.  I’ve had that a lot here.  I’ve just realised that is probably why I feel hysterical, and that it might be empowering the manifestations, and I’m not sure what is empowering what, as far as the psychological interrogation is concerned.  There are moments when I feel really happy about it and really bad for not accepting their love and friendship.  But if I think about it, that has to be a media driven feeling, even a fellow blogger driven feeling, from what I have seen on the Christianity board.  I wonder if the terror they inspire with the foul nature of their interrogation is what drives and empowers the ‘manifestations’.  Every time I get strength, they speak or bang or adjust their position.  It is like being sat on by gigantic toads.  It’s all I ever see these people do when I am out as well.  They never give themselves, it is always observe, mimic, adjust, observe, mimic, adjust.  I’m sure I should find it funny and endearing, but it feels like some sort of demonic dance.  And Oh God it is frightening.  And the interjections, the sweet, clear as a bell interjections.  She makes me feel it is me that is wrong.  But I’m not harassing, I’m reacting.  I feel really groggy and tired and sick.  I was so afraid earlier at something that happened I was afraid to go out, they sound as if they could hurt me.  I’ve felt like this for ages, both stripped and embarrassed under their gaze, and afraid and angry.  I think she has lots of people in with her and they are keeping silent, and acting as if in a seance, or a prayer meeting resisting me, the devil.  Otherwise why the banging?  A single, intermittent sharp rap?  I first came across that in hospital, from a male nurse with a mug.  I just coughed, and the woman talking to Peter Dobbie acted as if she was trying verbally to seduce my neighbours.  CliveNyrie was on a bit ago, and he went through all the stuff I’ve basically aid about him being an actor.  He did the lot, slightly spaced reporter, raga, distinuished actor, he went through them all.  At every break the woman upstairs shouts afresh, almost subliminally, but just enough for me to hear.  it is spiritualism with violence.  I know Bulgarian authorities are reading this.  Please help me.  These are criminals.  If I leave they will do it to someone else.  Me leaving should not be your answer. Please get this Christianese shouting spiritualist and her violent friends off of me.  That is the right and lawful thing for you to do.

Peter Dobbie is affecting a facial twitch when he starts, I saw him deliberately put it on, in his session that just ended at 3.30 pm.  After that he and his fellow staff were channeling me, I watched it all, I saw it all, my thoughts, my emotions.  At the end he seemed as if he was in tears, like me, after my last paragraph, or close to, like me, then he paused, talked about cut off, and there were no tears in his voice.  Every time I get my own emotions she cries out or strikes a surface up there, and people across the way shout out as well.  I feel as if the whole community is ganged up on me, and I have no idea how many of these satanic animals are ganged up in the flat above me.  And I daren’t go and see.  They are pelting me with sound, both vocal and banging, from every corner of their apartment.  This has to be wtichcraft, and if it is Christians praying against my wishes in a way which is obviously harassment, I have been taught in church that that is also witchcraft.  So these Christain bastards who set out to manipulate me and make me feel guilty, are they now going to be true to their own teaching, or keep insisting I should be grateful for what is happening here?  As for Peter Dobbie, it seems to me I have given him this power with me, and I would like to take it back.  I’ve had some emails from Derek Acorah’s thing recently, after years of occasional emails to him which have never been answered and I have never received anything else from them, suddenly they are emailing me.  I’m just saying it as a fact.  I can’t put emotions in it.  what they are doing upstairs is taking that ability from me.  I would like to be angry and I think I am.  And the people upstairs, I find their behaviour disgusting.  When I let myself connect with that disgust I feel as if I begin to come back to myself.  At least, I did just now.  They started moving around a lot and moving chairs, while I was writing about Derek Acorah.  I don’t want to have to connect with these people as people that I love.  Their behaviour is appalling, violent, tormenting.  If these people are Christians and right in what they are doing . . . I feel as if they are.  Every time I come to a stopping place they bang.  The weather forecast has just come on and someone rapped again, and this is the pattern.  It will happen again in a few minutes as well, when the next change happens.

Tim Willcox just came on with an ‘I’m the man’ stance, and shed it as he went into his (all the right words escape me) script.  Then he talked about an ‘injection’ of something into something, and he turned away on the word ‘injection, and turned back again.  ‘Who is in control?’  The law says I should be.  These people are psychologically abusive and criminal stalkers, whatever their motivation and however they feel about it.  And however I do.  They are whipping with their speech patterns in the same way that Bulgarian folk singing women do.  And I feel certain they are courting my neighbours.  I break away and they (BBC World News) seem to try to reconnect.  Tim Willcox is a smooth savage.  They all are.  Their image with me is not what they care about, and they attack all the time.  I could kill him, he is that violent.

BBC World News Et Al

I’ve had enough of these guys, they are ludicrous. There is only one way to deal with them and stay sane, and that is to find them funny.  I even came up with a nickname for one of them this morning, which is not something I am into normally.  After his hypnotic gesture.  I found solace in humour (they keep clearing their throats off-screen, what has happened to the cough button?  It exsits.  It is rude not to use it.  It’s gross, especially when they deliberately heighten your sensitivity so you hear every minute sound), and thought of him as ‘Nick the Thing’.

It’s not the stories and their seriousness, I wish I could concentrate on those in peace.  It’s the other stuff they use to play with your head.  Peter Dobbie came on with what sounded like righteous indignation and grief which felt like an accusation in view of what I have just written (ed note: I added the bit about the cough button and nick names after this).  I would like to write more but again, the hard aggressiveness with everything that they put on it for a ride has completely wiped my mind of what I was going to write.

The guys who just went out, it seemed fairly obvious to me that they did a synchronised and agreed look down at their desk as they finished.  it was perfectly times and synchronised, and when I saw that I understood the ‘poised to spring’ body language that immediately led up to it.

I know Japan is important, but it is not my issue.  Maybe it should be, they make it feel as if it should be, but it isn’t.

Crikey, I’m sorry about this, but I swear some of these people deliberately posture themselves as accusers.  I don’t know how to put this delicately, but i am sure peter Dobbie just embodied piss.

Nick Ravenscroft came on and called peter by his name, and said ‘listening to you and Rachel’ in very intimate tones.  They look at us and say each other’s names.  I think that is deliberate psychological and spiritual aggression, but even if it isn’t, they give the impression of being there to relate more to each other than to us, and we are just the observers and eavesdroppers.  I feel a resistance every time I get the perfect word.  I know now that kind of thing is not my imagination.  So does everyone else, no matter how dishonest they are about it.

And for goodness’ sake, what is susan Powell’s gaffe?  She comes on like some high level care worker or doctor breaking bad news, ‘I know, I’m so sorry, I do sympathise, but that is how it is.  It’s OK, we’ll cope’. 

These people are bad, high-control, criminal egos.  Please Lord, no longer in my vicinity.  In Jesus’ Name.  Amen.

Someone speaking to Peter Dobbie just used the word ‘severe’ and Peter Dobbie cleared his throat.  That is it exactly.  That is the exact word for the way they are deliberately presenting themselves, in my opinion.  Thank you God that that got through.

‘Look up there, look over there (but I’m pointing you there contrary to you expectations from what I have set up, because I want to see your reaction or break your concentration).  Watch how often this happens in the whole communication and not just in words.

My first experience of this was in Bulgaria, after I complained to an internet cafe owner who I thought seemed really nice about the fact that two of his female customers had just been openly and unashamedly scathing of me as an English person, saying English people have no taste.  He did that and I was devastated.  I don’t know why he did it, I had never met him before.  He looked at me as if to say, ‘aha, yes, quite’ then completely turned his attention away from me.  He only got that reaction from me in the first place because I myself have a tender conscience and don’t like complaining about other people.  It didn’t even necessarily show that I am a bad person, but he seemed to want to take it that way.  I suppose it might have had something to do with his relationship with the women, but at the time I was just really upset and didn’t know what had hit me.

I’m mentioning this because the UK meida pulls a lot of things like this out of the bag.  It is like psyhological torture and pressure to go home.  But I don’t want to.  It’s interference.  Without it (he can feel me psychically, he keeps banging his stuff), I could have coped a lot better a lot earlier, and so could everyone else.  As it is they have just humiliated me, and feeling so humiliated I have to cope also with the possible loss of my home.

Peter Dobbie, this is gross.  And this deliberate sternness and strictness that you all keep putting out at us – who do you all think you are?  It is a complete insult and completely abusive.  Abuse on abuse.  And you bastards (yes, I’m upset)  . . . and now I can’t remember what I was going to say.  Whatever this is it projects as immovable and impassable.  They are holding me, at least, to ransom, and in so doing are empowereing others to do the same. And it is all on purpose.  I’m not sure what language peter Dobbie is now impersonating, but he just said ‘what are you seeing?’ rather than ‘what can you see?’  I believe this is a deliberate and obvious perception shifter.  The only contexts I can think of for where I might have encountered it are in therapeutic situations or in the House Church.  He’s talking to Rachel as if she is his daughter.  This is a public broadcast.  Every time I go to make a strong statement there is a bang in the studio, I suppose they are banging the desk.

I think these people might be examples of what the Bible is talking about when it talks about those who suppress the truth in unrighteousness.  They use an Irish accent to good effect as well, I’ve heard them talk about it.  I don’t know why.  All that comes to mind is that I had an Irish boyfriend and Colin Dye’s wife is irish, and some of my ministers have known Ian Paisley and I think they thought I was a terrorist threat becasue of something I said and that they talked to him and I never knew.  All of these seem probable.  I know it is effective.  Everyone I’ve mentioned in this paragraph apart from my old boyfriend is involved with the government.  So when I have talked about the government in other posts and pages, I’m not being psychotic with delusions of grandeur.

I wrote this on Saturday.  I was going to change the title, but I’ve forgotten what to.  The link I am inserting relates to the end of my post where I mention Newsnight and Simon Schama, who was the historian in the first post on this blog in May last year.

I’m not sure why I’m putting it out.  I feel a bit dissociative at the moment.  Apologies to Peter Dobby if I have got him completely wrong.  I know I’m not the only person who thinks that everyone else is evil when they are in a crisis they haven’t made themselves.  A bad thing isn’t made good because it is done with good motives – she says moralistically.  I don’t even know if that is right in this case, where I feel protectively stalked by the media.  If I say I feel protectively stalked, why am I not protecting them?  Maybe because I am a vengeful, selfish and cynical cow.  I don’t know why I’m not protecting them, and I feel wrong for not doing.  I should be so grateful, I feel, in some ways.  As for Peter, I saw his own distress, and I feel really bad about what I said in other posts and what I have include here.  I’m interpreting everything selfishly and cruelly.  If anyone is exposed by what I’ve said about him it is me and not him. I hope so.  I’m sorry, Peter.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b00zfmwq/Newsnight_Revolution_2011/

My computer keeps being crashed.  Last night I lost the biggest chunk of text I have ever lost on WordPress.  It normally saves automatically.

As I was saying, Peter Dobby is a complete bastard, a cruel and unkind person who delights in the devastation he causes another to feel.  he can barely hide it.

I was also saying that, although these people might seem soft and casual, don’t be deceived.  They have a rapacious agenda they know about but do not acknowledge to us, they carry it out ruthlessly.  They seem soft and casual, but they are highly driven, hardsell people, and are inquisitors and torturers.  Deliberately.  It isn’t that some of them are hard and some of them are nice.  They have the same agenda.  It’s called the iron fist/velvet glove approach.

Jesus said don’t cast your pearls before swine, or they will turn again and rend you to pieces.  They act like velvet, don’t they?  Like a glass of Baileys.

Peter Dobby just said ‘plenty more to come in the programme’.  As he was saying it, or something just before it, he was looking down on the desk, looking at the desk like a kind human being looks at a friend, but when he lifted his face up to the camera, he put a blank, hardly there for anyone look on his face, completely untouchable and contemptuous and as if he had a bad smell under his nose.  We were meant to see both.  The ones of us that get attacked by them were meant to want to fly at him in retaliation, or beg him to stop or something, at which point he would get our story, and suddenly our minds would be wiped clean and we would be back in favour and no longer under threat and none of the tactics they had used would matter to us anymore, because breaking and giving them what they wanted would seem like the right and reasonable thing to do.  There is so much of the ending of 1984 in this.  The couple are separated from each other, passing each other in the street and hardly seeing each other, the torture and betrayal have been that deep and awful, and the final scene is something involving an imposed consciousness of ‘Big Brother’, a voice or a picture or something like that, and the man sits there in tears, realising, as I think it is the last sentence of the book that says this, that he loved Big Brother.  They had been caught by surreptitious and deceptive state surveillance and their relationship broken by torture.

The face Peter Dobby lifted to the camera, that is the programme. Or part of the programme, the psychologically violent one.  When they talk about the programme, they are using so many therapy type things and terms, and guided fantasy methods and word pictures (bodies and buildings, for instance) that I hear ‘programme’ as psychological programme, and I think that is what they mean.  I was going to say they all do it, but now I am confused.  I’m pretty sure they do.  I’m emotionally breaking at the moment, what they are doing is making me feel  disorientated and dislocated and really bad, especially the delight they appear to be taking in my humiliation.  It’s so bad, I even feel guilty about reworking a post, the blank, Frankenstein’s monster look he puts out with the provocation very few people are meant to see and understand makes me feel hysterical and incapable of communication.  So does my neighbours’ silence when I react to their invasiveness and provocation.  It seems to me their silence is as deliberate as everything else.

I’ve said before that they go for my throat.  I just watched, for the second time, this time just because it was on the television when I switched it on, Thursday night’s Newsnight, talking about the Libyan uprising.  One of the guests said it was as if something had been taken off of their throats and their voices now sounded clear to him.  The historian Simon Schama, who I have written about before, was there, and he picked up the significance of that and looked very guilty and shocked.  I believe he was thinking about me, perhaps, at least among others.  But the look of guilt was there.  They put the stalking into the community, play on your controlling feelings, for instance, guilt and shame, and using your neighbours as the people who hold you up against the wall as they beat you up, they lay into you. It’s occultism and salacious insolence.  It is so outrageous you want to hit back, if they’ve already worked you over and you understand what they have done and are still having to live with it, and at the same time they put their faces into yours, through the camera, and say ‘what are you going to do about it?’.  The way they eyeball the camera, eyeballing the person their speech is tailored to, and hold your eye while they shout the name of their colleague, which might or might not be your name, is abusive.  It IS deliberate and it IS abusive.  It’s intimidation, and it’s like staring down a dog.

I watched some videos online the other day, by a legal expert in the US, saying it would be OK, in law, to lie to Mr Assange to lure him to a place where they could kidnap him.  I understand the feeling of what he is living with, in terms of the threat and uncertainty (even though I do not know that my life is in danger) living with threat from authorities (and non-authorities) in different ways. 

I don’t think there is anything I can do, but I wish it wasn’t happening to him.  I feel like pleading with him, ‘please don’t die’.

It shouldn’t be legally OK to lie to anyone.  Certainly not for government bodies.  But they do it all the time.  For our protection, they say. 

I don’t want a society riddled with and ‘protected’ by lies.  Some Christians quote Rahab who hid the spies and lied about where they had gone, as being an example of when lying is right.  But the Bible says ‘God is not a man, that He should lie’.  It also says ‘Walk before me and be thou perfect’.  In the New Testament it also says ‘put off lying one to another’ and ‘let no corrupt communication come out of your mouth’.

For me these are heart and covenant verses, and the only ones I can remember out of my own head.  But no one has the right to argue, based on what they see from my limited memory, that the whole issue is a covenant thing and that there are some circumstances, therefore, when lying is right to, or about, certain people.

The reason I say this is that the New Testament isn’t big on self-protection, not for Christians.  We are told to honour all men, and to do good to all (even though it does say especially to those wo are of the household of faith, that doesn’t mean it is OK to do evil to someone else, even if the law demands that they be punished for a crime). 

If the law allows lying, the law is a mess.  Why should the only sanctified place of honour be in court, where it becomes illegal to lie?  Think how much time and money and distress would be saved to so many, if only lying itself, in whatever circumstances, was a crime.  Why isn’t lying, such an abusive and dishonorable thing, a crime?  So that lawyers can continue getting fat?

The New Testament isn’t big on self-protection or for terrestrial country being on a par with God.  Christians were encouraged to accept death for refusing to say, ‘Caesar is Lord’.  I think that encouragement was right.  People are not perfect.  Even if the only acceptable point being made here for some people is that the individual’s conscience comes before any allegiance to king and country (or continent, or one world government, since that is obviously what people are trying to practice, it doesn’t have to be treated with sensationalism for it obviously to be true), I believe that is the point that has to win the day, over and above loyalty to earthly government and authorities.

The spies might have been covenant people, but they were also ordinary men. Who wouldn’t be grateful for having their lives saved?  If in rewarding the woman for that they affirmed lying, they were wrong.  The Bible says she was also a harlot, whatever that means, maybe it isn’t it’s modern meaning.  They weren’t, surely, rewarding and affirming that, if it was what is understood by the word today.  They were showing human gratitude and mercy.  Who knows, maybe they should never have involved the name of God in the transaction at all.  It was a normal, human response to someone who has saved your life.

The fact that someone uses an exalted tone doesn’t make them right.  Maybe they didn’t use an exalted tone, maybe it is just the way I have heard it read and carressed in Church.  I think a verbal carress expresses joy and gratitude and strong feeling.  it is not necessarily an indicator of truth, even though you might feel that people capable of expressing such strong and positive feelings can’t possibly be wrong.  People and their feelings should never be idolised.  Feelings rely on information.  Information might be wrong, or wrongly understood.  No one should ever say to another, ‘I am so and so, do as I say’, unless it is in a clear matter of law.  That is why, I believe, we need to be dispassionate and not inflammatory, if a safe world is what we want.

BBC World News. 2.23 am UK time. Indian woman, Sharma or something.  She’s been hitting me for about 15 minutes.  She just went into an interview with Phil Mercer, who was part of Premier Radio at the beginning, saying ‘weelly’ for ‘really’, or something like that. More like ‘weech’ for ‘reach’. 

It isn’t appropriate for me to care how anyone feels about the way I communicate about this. They shouldn’t be doing it. It is abusive and an assault.  I believe it is also a crime.  She came on talking like a Bulgarian (is that just coincidence as well?)  I will care, and be hurt, they press all the right buttons.  But it isn’t appropriate that I should care, though it is inevitable that I will be hurt.  My neighbours are getting it in the neck, while I’m trying to go softly, softly with the people who are really hurting me and exploiting things.

There was a message in Bulgarian on my screen as well.  I’ve never had that before.  I’m wondering if it is from the cable company reminding me that payment is due, or something.  Maybe I’ll be without tv and internet tomorrow.

I just changed my title to include superimposed.  The Indian lady was suddenly close to tears.  Is it appropriate that I should care????  She looks pleased.  It’s the tears, it isn’t personal.  I don’t know her, I only know what she is doing.  And she does too.  As she started to talk to Phil Mercer, and went into it with ‘weech’ for ‘reach’, her eyebrows twitched with recognised significance.

She’s fluffing her lines like Bulgarians fluff their speech sometimes.  Sometimes it’s for power and sometimes it’s out of bewilderment.  All the presenters are fluffing their lines in the same, uniform way at the moment.

Sometimes your speech gets scrambled.  It doesn’t mean there is anything wrong, or does it?  Is it just that your speech has been challenged at a deep level?  I can’t remember when this started happening for me, I think it was here in Bulgaria.  It might be a fear thing.  I hear the anger, but I don’t understand its content, so I don’t know how to feel.  So I suppose it is partly confusion.

Final PS – is narrowcasting legal?  Very narrow casting?  Based on information you have collected through electronic communications about a person, or collected by some other means?  Read the paragraphs in bold.  Internet Explorer.  If it isn’t legal, what are they playing at, and how much can I sue them for?

Dear BBC World News – I have a right to watch the tv, especially the news, without being deliberately and specifically targetted by you or anyone else for spiritual and psychological attack.  God is going to break you and everyone else who attacks me.  That is His promise.  He does not tell lies.  Not like you and whoever you feel empowered by.

When I was a kid we were shown public information films at school, about the dangers of getting into a car with someone we didn’t know.  I seem to remember, although I might be mixing it up with instructions on traffic lights, that red is for danger.  I’ve also learned to associate it with aggression over the years, and I think that is a commonly held perception.

I was just watching Lyse Doucet(t?), and she was standing there in red, almost saying, ‘touch me if you dare’. After what I have seen and heard from her before, I felt helped by this perception.  She talks almost like someone with brain damage, in her attempts to sound casual, but I thought what I saw at the end of her live report revealed a very driving woman, not casual at all.  My question is, why the act?  And the smile at the end of her report on Libya was almost triumphant and self-satisfied.

I thought today, when I saw one of the female reporters, there they are, using things specific to me, continually, not just stuff that is part of the common culture and available choices which are ‘completely coincidental’ in their constant recurrence (they might be!  It’s called making fashionable choices, perhaps, but funnily enough, every ‘unfashionable’ choice I have made over the years has been quickly copied by the industry, like the teaming of colours.  Maybe it is what Jung would have called a product of the oversoul [is that the right figure of speech?], where the same different thing pops up at the same time in 2 different and unrelated places – but I think not).  That was a long bracket, I’d better start again.  When I saw one of the female reporters (jobbing actors) today, putting a face almost blank of expression up at the camera and vocally acting out feelings which, if real, come from somewhere right behind your midriff, and given the fact that they use so much of my stuff, I thought that was probably a very good explanation of why, when I encounter blankness and worse from other people, emotionally I fold from the stomach, and nothing I do can help me retrieve myself.  Because even when they see me fold, the blankness or worse remains, when I hope for sympathy and identification.  Maybe they don’t see it.  If they do, I obviously don’t know how, in my case, they interpret it.  Perhaps they think I am copying the people on the television and think I am above myself, when actually I believe the exact opposite is the case.

Strange, lady whatever her name is, Kate something, I thought she was Natasha Kaplinsky, I thought that was her name on ‘Would I Lie To You?’ the one with hair like Worzel Gummidge – talk about scrambling stereotypes and perceptions, as Simon Schama said the other day on Thursday’s Newsnight) has just (it was ‘just’ when I typed it at about 12.50 pm, half an hour ago – I separated this paragraph from its order and context so the post would read more easily) mentioned a ‘delusional’ character in “Black Swan”, and now she is copying my laugh, and all of my deepest emotional expressions (remember they are jobbing actors) like she and so many others copy the way I often used to say in delighted gratitude and desire to hold onto the relationship with the person I was speaking to, ‘thank you very much . . . thank you’ – that is me, it is very upsetting to hear them all doing it back at me).  These people are egomaniacal thieves.  They do it to each other as well.  I don’t know, maybe some of these people really are as empty-headed as the day they were born.  Maybe the flashes of intelligence and apparent conscience have only been born in them since reading blogs by people like me.

I’ve had enough of this post now.  They’re still criminals.  Civil disobedience is one thing, but stalking a vulnerable person is something else.  Remind me to talk about Ruby Wax’s latest money spinner.  On ‘Something For The Weekend’.  I don’t like what I see and hear there, something is amiss – in my opinion, which is obviously nowhere near as perfect as these people’s.

PS  The paragraph that starts “I thought today, when I saw one of the female reporters . . .’ was the beginning of this post going out of control.  This has happened in other posts as well.  Something seems to happen when I start typing, they place a few trigger words from my personal life or writing or telephone calls or desperation talk at the still plugged in headphones on Saturday, and it seems as if it is being used as a marker or something, then they verbally run off in this way, in exactly the same way which is hysterically replicated in my post from that point on.  Today I switched the sound off after about 5 minutes and tried to retrieve as much self-control as possible, but with neighbours banging at me when I shout at the man on the telly that he is not going to shout at me like that and to get off my telly it’s a bit difficult, and it does affect my self-control in writing and speaking.  It seems the only thing that is allowed from women around here by way of distress is high voiced hysteria.  Which I obviously felt touched by, or it wouldn’t be haunting me, but there is nothing I can do for them, and I didn’t bang at her while she was doing it.  Would I have left her screaming in pain and anger and desperation, unable to breathe and feeling as if I was dying, as she did me?  I don’t know.

Something else, while I think of it.  I recently had a new hard drive disk put into my computer.  When I did, the messages from Internet Explorer went back to the way I remembered them ages ago.  Ordinary, technically-couched information about crashes and unavailability of websites.  But after a few days I noticed that the messages I was getting about unavailable websites went back to what I had become used to and afraid of and angered by and felt assaulted by on my old disk.  The message I have started getting again for unavailable websites reads something like this:

‘Internet Explorer is unable to connect you to this website.  It appears that the website continues to have a problem’. 

‘It appears that x continues to have a problem’  is something I have come to associate with charismatic and housechurch groups.  It is the acceptable way, especially among counsellor and prayer ministry types, of rubbishing a person and being angry and resentful towards them because you feel inadequate about the fact that, in spite of all your efforts and everything you have been taught to apply, they are stubbornly refusing to be helped (that is what is meant, even if it isn’t said).  I’m getting this language all the time in messages about unavailable sites, from Internet Explorer.  I’m wondering if other people are getting the same message when they can’t connect to a website?  Until I had my new disk installed and started getting the old, normal language messages, I thought everyone was getting what I just said, but for the first few days with my new disk I was not.  I think it had also gone back to saying a straightforward ‘reconnect’ instead of saying ‘try to reconnect’ which comes with the other rubbish and makes me feel, apart from stalked, inappropriately emotionally grabbed at.  First they are stalking me then putting out these therapy-talk, church-talk, emotional appeal messages instead of just saying ‘reconnect’.  No wonder people think I have a stonger relationship with my computer than with people.  To me it seems this is abusive at every level.  I constantly feel shock, fear and anger.  And also feeling harassed and all the guilt that goes with the way I handle it, I’m in no fit state to go out.  They play on the guilt and make it as prominent in my thinking as they can.  I was just thinking I had had a completely clear run on this paragraph, no browser crashes, but as soon as I went back a line or two and inserted something about guilt, connecting my mind and emotions in my communication, my browser crashed again.

I’ve just switched BBC World News back on, and Peter Dobby, immediately after hillary Clinton’s speech which was in progress as I switched on and my reason for switching on, said ‘she spacically’ instead of ‘she’s basically’.  2.50pm UK time.  I black guy has just come on with the sport, doing the same ‘I’m hardly in control of what I am saying’ verbal incontinence/half brain damaged impression, saying in a taunting tone, ‘it won’t be enough to’ something about the wicket (wicked, wiki, Wicca, wikileaks?  He didn’t say cricket anyway, which was what we should have got.  Causing shock to me releases some sort of wave of energy in the studio.  They have a breath reaction to every mental movementof mine.  They do it on purpose.  That’s what I mean, and his contemptuous face.  That’s what I mean by mixing violence and subliminality and stalking and psycholinguistics.  They are damaging more people than me.  They must face everything the law can throw at them for this, it isn’t sweet, it isn’t kind, it isn’t cute, it is evil.  Peter Dobby has just come back on and the first thing he did was say a word as if clearing his throat, contemptuously.  I don’t care, Tommy Boyd, how much you say media presentation has changed, this is extremely rude, unprofessional and abusive.  he just said a word to sound like masturbation, and he has followed it up with the word robust (as in bust) talking about Hillary Clinton.  Peter Dobby is a savage dog.  Something changed in a rhythm somewhere.  As soon as I started the sentence calling him a dog he stopped talking over the broadcast of William Hague, and exactly now he has just started again.  They are hacking my computer.  They are indecent.  I am a dalek.  I will exterminate.  Let me at him, the bastard.  They break me down like this on purpose, and if I hide it and pretend it hasn’t happened, they use it against me at a later date. This is desperate.  Help me, someone.  Not through the mental health system, but properly, through getting these people by law for what they are doing.  Peter Dobby has backed off now.  He’s done his damage, nowhe can just go silent and let me get on with losing it and being terrified of what he is doing and the way he is using what he knows to be my fears against me.  I know they are looking at this, I can imagine their reactions, they are indecent, and like being with instincts, I want to hit back.  Ben whatever his name is was just acting out in his speech action his words that people don’t have control. Bulgarian people talk like that a lot.  I think UK media people started copying that shortly after I came here.  My browser has just started multiple crashing again, before it did I said that Lyse Doucett had just spat the word ‘question’, which I have said before they often and deliberately say like ‘quistion’ to sound like ‘Christian’, I said it about Robert Elms the other day.

With an absolute poker face they get my attention with something intimate, then adopt an intimate tone saying something which sounds instructional as if they have a right to do that.  So when people say that people on the television and radio are talking to them, I believe that, unless they are lying, in many cases they are probably right, and it isn’t a delusion out of mental illness.

All this, in spite of the fact that I have asked them and given them permission to contact me through proper channels. They still insist on using these methods.  They are trying to maintain a speech rhythm, for some reason.  They are not communicating straight, and therefore they are not communicating honestly. They are sly, manipulative, crafty and criminal.  These are bad and evil people and what they are doing to us is criminal.  In fact, with all the verbal power plays I’ve seen and heard from everyone recently, I’d say they are paranoid and in complete chaos and out of control, and telling me to sit or lie down in the corner as if I am a dog.  Perhaps the most evil thing about them is that, as it will obviously suit them to do so, they will deny all knowledge of me and of everything I have said.  I haven’t published this yet.  Peter Dobby has just said a word to sound like ‘sly’.  And I haven’t put it out yet.  I can’t mend what he and his do to me emotionally, because they are supposed to be trustworthy and I’ve been conned and it’s destroyed my life, but I would be satisfied if I could get them legally.  He just said, ‘now it’s time for the finance news’ as if he was saying ‘I love you’, then there was a pregnant pause, and he came back with a slightly derisive sounding tone and said ‘we’ll get that in a minute’.  He just said ‘most’ like ‘must’.  I could let him do this to me for hours unless I stop him.  He’s savage.  He just talked about looking at something critically when I amended something at the top of my post to ‘read the paragraphs in bold’, and he did the verbal incontinence thing with a completely straight face.  I don’t want them doing this.  It’s torment.  Many of them are playing the verbal incontinence game.  I know they break me down on purpose, at important times, so no one will take any notice of anything serious and important and relevant that I have to say, after reading the results and consequences of what they do to me.  Give up, Peter Dobby.  I’m not going to give you or do what you want.  Unless all you want is the kick of knowing you are having an effect on me.  He’s just done the harshly emphasised ‘ah’ and ‘out’ thing they always do, along with the ‘back’ stuff’ and other things.  There is nothing wrong with me, Mr Dobby.  I don’t need what you are doing.  Respond to what you have been given.  Or are you and people like the government working together even though you give the impression, more often than not, of being deeply critical and at war with each other?  Is it really cosy behind the scenes and off the air?  When did the Cobra Committee come into existence?  I never noticed it until shortly after I thought that Sofia, the capital of Bulgaria, looks a bit like ‘Cobra’ in Cyrillics.  That was some time ago in the last 15 months.

My serious point: why does Hillary Clinto need to talk rhetorically about serious abuses, instead of just abuses?  Is she rabble rousing?  What is the difference between an abuse and a serious abuse, and what is the difference in the way they are treated.  Watch your answer, bearing in mind that out of little acorns, great oaks grow.  David Cameron sounded as if he just said mental, and smiled a secret smile (5.40 pm).  With the same affected little verbal incontinence.  Did he say that?  Something about the communication wasn’t straight.  He sounds very urgent.  Maybe it is as affected and illigitimate as the assumed intimacy.  What about human rights abuses at home, Ed and David?

They are so melifluous, as smooth as oil, these people, whatever they are talking about.  It seems to me they are being so smooth about Libya as to be dismissive of its importance and complexity.  But maybe it should be smooth and easy, talking about first steps.  I think David just deliberately shot an ‘um’.  They deliberately shoot a lot of words.  Including the istruction to ‘utter complete rubbish’ which was dressed to look like a derisive jibe.  He’s just adopted an exalted tone.

I think this is the kind of thing people like Peter Dobby are trying to make me believe they are ‘helping’ me with and to do.  I was just thinking about God and David Cameron just said ‘listen to the man and his experience’ and George Osborne started sniggering then strted looking a bit sheepish or miserable.  That is the sort of thing I was talking about when I talk about psychic targeting and spiritualism.  I just thought he might be picking up on the thoughts of my upstairs neighbour, who has just started moving around again.  At which point Peter Dobby broke in and cut it of, just after I had said I was thinking about God, and he said something emphatically about hearing something on ‘this channel’, and channelling is a psychic activity, as they know I know.  I think they are exploiting this information with the help of some very skilled writers, if not actually engaging in the spiritual activity.  But maybe that isn’t it.  Maybe I am just one of a whole group which is being targetted in this way.  Some are hurt and offended, some are flattered, and some don’t care or are unaware.

Nik Gowing is on.  He went straight for the sympathy muscle, which for me is the most direct way to guilt and feelings of responsibility.  I’ve got the sound down.  Nothing to react to.  As soon as I turned the sound down I felt as if I should go and apologise to my upstairs neighbour.  That’s how I know he went for my sympathy muscle.

Look at the state of this post!  I’ve had several ‘comments’ I haven’t published, in exactly the same state, and all of them, I think, are or are posturing as very detailed sex shop adverts.  I would not be surprised if I am deliberately driven to replicate that if I insist on continuing to write and make observations about what they are doing and saying while the sound is on.  I switched on yesterday and heard a female presenter talking about ‘weird behaviour’, talking about Gaddafi.  That is hardly dispassionate and is provocative.  It is crudely biassed, and they must know better than that.  Is their training that inadequate these days?  I’m not sure we can trust our country’s image and communications with these people.  Or impressionable minds.  An impressionable mind is one that is not set and formed.  The more knowledge you have, the less impressionable you are likely to be.  I’m not sure if what I think I know has any value at all, but I know that most people will not be at all aware of things like psycholinguistics and related subjects.  I know I only know a bit and if I knew more I might not have so much reason to feel as if I might be being ridiculous.  But I think it matters, adversely, when a presenter in a news agency talks about ‘weird behaviour’ in such a sensitive situation.  People who talk exactly like this are running our mental hospitals.  It is little wonder that people who are already broken down and feel abused and assaulted by the system and its keepers sometimes turn to violence.  People outside of the mental health system are no different.  Politicians call it declaring war, or something like that.  They don’t do it one on one.  They get armies of people taught to see the forces as an opportunity to learn a skill and see the world to do and die for them. They would have us believe, for us.  I’m not coming.  War party, me no wanna go.

I keep seeing politicians crying into the camera, early in my time here in Bulgaria, when the police stopped me twice in two days from coming home.  That is a very strong sympathy muscle action.  I know they must have wanted to do me some good and help in some way.  I feel I should always trust and honour politicians like that, because they will always be right, their hearts will always be right, and at the very least mine is wrong if I don’t obey authority.  Surely a politician in tears is someone to be trusted, even if they are breaking all the rules about open and legally accountable communication?  The fact that they seemed to think it was necessary to communicate in that way has perhaps made me more afraid and stupid here in Bulgaria than I have needed to be.  Unless there is a real danger for me, and maybe because of me, for my country, here.  If so, why have they backed off, why isn’t my Embassy being responsive to me?  Do I yield here, and post it as is, as I want to?  No, I don’t.  Because if I yield they command from 2000 miles away using illegitimate intimacy, or they drag the game out just a little bit more, robbing me of any feelings of having tried to do the right thing and of self-worth that I have left.  The Consul’s name is Jon O’Shaughnessy.  For over a week now I have received no response from him or his team about anything I have said to them.  They have humiliated both themselves and me.  I went to them absolutely openly and legally with everything they needed to know, and they started coaxing me without committing to making me feel safe at the other end from the mental health authorities and others.  I’m afraid to come home. When I say that they emphasise that I am free, in the same coded way, but I reesnt the mode of communication and I am basically afraid of coercive arrest with intimidation at the airport on criminal or mental health grounds, even though I have tried to pursue things through both the police and the IPCC systems without response, over months.  I wish Hillary Clinton woiuld get off my screen.  She’s using the same stuff.  She’s dumbshowing in the same way.  I think she has made it clear that she knows Jean Darnall, or at least of her.  I thought it meant that Jean has relationship and input into US gvernment, but perhaps it doesn’t.  Mrs Clinton came out on several occasions that were important in my life and communication, looking the image of Jean in everything about her.  Her face, her walk, and everything.

As for me being a criminal, the police here have told me that I am not a wanted person here in Bulgaria, otherwise they would know, they said.  I asked them when I had to report my passport missing.  I’ve had no communication from the police at all, for months.  I try to avoid situations where people have involved them before, some of those situations the police have apologised to me for.

I’ve just had a thought.  Lyse Doucett.  I looked at the name and gradually made a connection between it and the song that goes, ‘tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies’.  ‘Douce’ is the French for ‘sweet’.  Is this supposed to be helpful?  Who are they treating as if they need to be held down and forced to tell the truth?  Isn’t this just dishonorable and underhand, whoever does it?  If this is the basis of power relationships, it’s madness.  It’s madness.  They’ve gone off into morality play and fairy tale land.  These people responsible for our lives and well being.  They don’t know how to do it straight.  It’s lunacy.  And they call the rest of us lunatics, or whatever else injurious they can beat us and injure us with.  If they have not lost touch with reality and if they are not bombarding us with unreality, what is the situation?  Is this how they call on a higher morality in a world where people are not legally obliged to help people or slippery if they are, and where lying is not a crime?  I think this is abusive.  I think they are psychologically doping us, and maybe that isn’t the motive, but it is still the outcome.  The word is not the reality unless the reality it represents is upheld by law.  You can’t forsake the reality and criminalise people for intolerance or harassment or whatever, or call them mentally ill for holding to the reality, and hold on to the power of the words that uphold the reality you have forsaken and despise in practice.  Not unless you are crazy, deceitful or trying to impose an agenda using the definitions of the reality you want to invalidate, and along with the reality, everyone who values it.

6.04 pm  Lyse Doucett has just hit me with a very forceful mention of Jeremy Bowen, then she mentioned it a second time, softening it and softening and twinkiling into it, which always makes me feel guilty for having found fault with it in the first place, and as I am feeling exposed and guilty, they go straight into a politically sensitive interview.  They do this all the time.  It is a spititual block or a spiritual tap, it probably has different intended functions at different times.  I had a teacher at school called Bowen.  Surely I don’t need to say more.  They are moralising at me. They have no right.

I just heard David Cameron’s speech repeated, and I thought he didn’t even care.  not really.  he was talking about not letting regimes attack their own people with military force, but in our country even the police, at demonstrations, without military aid, kill and seriously injure people.

I watched Hillary Clinton again as well.  I got the impression she was deliberately acting out a ‘street’ persona.  Really.  I was so convinced I was horrified at what I believed to be reality.  Why would she be deceiving us in that way?

Ben whatever his name is is on.  I was just wondering why the news presenters deliberately and routinely, while they are talking, look over momentarily to the side, as if trying to stop something that comes into their minds from breaking their focus about what they want to say.  If they say it is just so they won’t worry about whether or not they have turned the gas off, I won’t believe them. Lyse Doucett just did that.  While I was wondering about it light dawned and joy showed on Ben Brown’s face, and he flashed his eyes over to the side, as if communicating it had been picked up, and then he twisted his mouth, almost like an occult control on mine.  That is how I interpreted it.  Straight after Peter Dobby came on talking about ‘focus’, then he questioned Jeremy Bowen and said ‘what did he say?’, and the lift in his voice towards the end struck me as full of false innocence.  It’s almost like a pub chat, over Libya.  That is disgusting.  Why are they pitching to the pub?  Why are they trying to make me feel, as long as I watch them and listen to them, that I am either in a brothel or a pub?  The squawking voices are all wrong.  The deliberate squawk, they all do it.  They are going for our ability to think straight and independently.  It grates, and it makes people stupid.  I heard a few years ago, that the process of thinking involves your vocal cords and your tongue.  I believe this, and I believe our thinking processes are under attack.  While I was writing this, Peter Dobby twisted a word, deliberately, and markedly and deliberately sped up his speaking.

Is Peter Dobby a witch?  Which came first, Dobby the house elf in Harry Potter, or Peter Dobby the news reader?  And why the doubling up?  I am sure the mental connection is being used to full effect.  Tanya Beckett has got her ‘you naughty girl’ voice on.

I just looked at my aol email account, before 6pm.  On the ‘today’ section, they are running an article about error messages on computers, and are showing the ‘fatal error’ message.  They’ve been doing this sort of thing to me for years.  Is it supposed to be funny, or menacing, or what?  Are any of those considerations more important than or as important as the question, ‘should they be doing it at all?’?  If they know enough to stalk me with that, they also know I am and have been afraid for my safety, there is nothing funny about this, it could, conceivably, be a message to someone other than me, and for me psychologically it is an incitement to violence in retaliation (or at least to fall apart with impotent anger), and it might be a literal incitement and instruction to violence to someone else.  It could beI struggled for the word ‘impotently’, I couldn’t remember it, and as I was getting hold of it, Tanya Beckett’s eyes sort of widened and she suddenly went into a jerk forward on a word followed by a jerk back.  She followed it up with a chavvy accent (reminds me of ChavvyVicky, the psychiatric nurse in Croydon with cats that became a problem at the same time I said something problematic.  She was a character or caller on the Clive Bull Show on LBC.  That was also meant to offend, I believe.  I don’t know what I believe, they are so psychologically violent in their presentation.  After Tanya Beckett’s Chavvy act, she started doing ‘look, I’m a squeaky girl’ modulations with her voice, and I was thinking, ‘what are you on with, then I remembered i was looking at an actress, and admired her ‘as an actress’, and she looked triumphant, but she is supposed to be dealing truthfully and straight with fact.  But the jerking backwards and forwards, at that time.  There is definitely something going on there, occultically.  Lady blonde porcelain has gone back into her dominatrix act, and when I let a sound out of my own mouth to challenge what is happening, the people upstairs bang on my ceiling, even if all I do is let out a sung note.  This is in Plovdiv.  All of these people, media, neighbours, are savage and evil.  yes they are.  it is criminal.  They like to tell you people who say things like this are mentally ill and dangerous.  They like to run stories about people who kill their neighbours or their social workers or their nurses or anyone because they believe they are evil.  This is evil.  You have no right to do this, and you have no right to do it to me.  First you provoke people, then you punish them for reacting.  I’ve called Lady porcelain before.  As soon as I can remember her name, as soon as I see or hear it again, I’m going to call it again.  YOU ARE MURDEROUS, MANIPULATIVE, HATEFUL, SO AMBITIOUS YOU DON’T CARE WHO YOU DESTROY AND ABUSE, AND YOU ARE THE EMBODIMENT OF EVIL, AND SUPPORT AND AFFIRM OR ALLOW FREE REIN TO PEOPLE LIKE YOU.  YOU ARE THE EMBODIMENT OF EVIL.  YOU KNOW WHAT YOU ARE DOING.  AND YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE PUBLIC’S PERCEPTION OF REALITY.  I just looked at Lyse.  She is obviously enjoying something very much.  I think they are deliberately tapping into my neighbours, and using us against each other.  I was taught at church there is no such ting as white witchcraft.  But this isn’t white.  This is obvious, psychologically violent, evil.  This is the blackest of black magic and satanism.  You have no right to be gunning for people like this.   They start coming down seconds after I start coming down.  It’s theft.

Hillary Clinton is continually having a go at me.  She is saying things about Gaddafi that I believe people say about me, about decency, isolating, taking money, etc.  The people upstairs keep getting off on my tv, and bang if I sing.  I just swtiched it off, and the man upstairs has gone for a pointed pee.  He has done that before.  I just shouted up to them, asking who is paying them.

If Hillary Clinton is having a go at me, or messing around with lumping people together linguistically and psychologically, she should be ashamed of herself.  I feel molested by what the man upstairs has just done.  Just as I do by his violent banging and their other invasiveness.  But if Hillary Clinton is messing with me, she should be ashamed of herself, if she loves her husband.  I was in hospital when he was in court.  I felt really sorry for him. I did my best to watch and listen to as much as I could, but in hospital it was difficult, people kept talking over it, they weren’t really interested.  But I was.  I really felt for him.  I’m afraid I can’t remember if I felt for the whole family or not.  I don’t know why I felt for him, or why I have felt for other national leaders in the past.  My first awareness of tragedy involving a national leader was when J F Kennedy was shot.  I was two days short of 3 years old.  If I don’t remember anything about it from earlier that day, I definitely remember watching and hearing about it on News at Ten on ITV.  People keep stealing my feelings from me now, about other people and about myself, but then I felt very grave and heavy about it.  I felt the same way for Richard Nixon as well.  I went to a prayer meeting at Talbot Street, I can’t have been more than 13, and everyone was thanking God, I seem to remember, that corruption had been exposed.  I feel like crying thinking about it, even now.  I wanted to pray for him, maybe for his family, but I didn’t.  I wanted to so much, but no one else was praying the same way.  I wanted to pray for Richard Nixon.  Almost like a child for a father.  I suppose I feel a bonding to him because of that even now.  I wonder if anything would have been different for him if I had prayed for him, out loud in the meeting?  I told one person, the person who drove me home afterwards.  I think I did, anyway.  Maybe I wasn’t specific about the situation.

In England, we have our own human rights atrocities. Gaddafi was saying today that his people love him, and some of them obviously do, they have made it clear.  But the people ‘interviewing’ him were talking to him as if he was a mental patient and they were rather contemptuous psychiatric staff.  If I had the strength of voice I would say, ‘not in my name’.  That is shameful.  How long have they been doing this to him?  How long, behind closed doors, after the embraces for the cameras?  Why should I listen to my own country’s propaganda any more than theirs? Would my country care about them, if it were not for the oil supply?  There are other countries they don’t care about, aren’t there? So if this isn’t about oil, what is it about?  I suppose it will be a committee decision, so there will be no clear answers and no definitive reason.

You’re An Embarrassment

You news people, you irresponsible, provocative bastards, you are an embarrassment to the public that relies on you.  Especially the vulnerable ones like me that you torture with your smug craftiness and lying hypocrisy until we feel we have to say the things you know but refuse to take responsibility for.  I wish I knew your name, you have a face that looks like an arse that needs smacking.  Ben Brown.  You people have been outraging people with your untruthfulness and linguistic trickery all day.

And since you are BBC World News, and without Unlock VPN we can’t get tv news from home, why don’t we hear more from home news?  And why can’t people in the UK watch what we do get?  So they can’t see the unbalanced, sickly crap?

And someone is deliberately crashing my computer, and that is an act of violence, and so was your smirking little sports girl, smirking over number ones and number twos.  That is completely molestation, and everything you do is incitement.  Why are you closing your poor little eyes, Mr News Presenter, as if you can’t cope with the world or anyone who wants to access you, and probably especially me, with the pointedness of your insults.  How dare you set your faces against anyone in your audience.  I’m not the person you are speaking to when you call a fellow reporter by name, so stop eyeballing the camera and shouting someone else’s name at the people watching you.  I’m not a dog.  You treat me like one.  You’re the dogs.  You are the dangerous, dishonest and violent ones.  You.  You’re scum.  You are filthy dogs and scum, both men and women.  Decent people hate you.  Decent people like me.  Ban Ki Moon talks about journalists being threatened with guns and knives.  I’m not surprised.  You play the innocents but you are anything but, with your illegitimate, illegal mind games.  you’re shooting words, one of them ‘witch’, and you’ve been talking about a sportsman smashing a tv set, and you smirk into the camera as you pelt me with your verbal needles and violence and incitement.  But you did all the last bit, about 2 minutes of it, off camera, and came back on looking all innocence.  Go to hell, all of you.  I join my voice with that of Gadaffi, even if I can’t spell his name.   You, the news, the politicians, have exploited him as much as you have me.  Then you try to make out you don’t understand why he is acting like a madman, if he is, it is only a western prejudice and convenience to say so.  What about the west and its war crimes, Mr Cameron?  Locking people up as mental patients without telling them why they are really there?  What about western media and its straightforward, criminal and smutty stalking?  You bastards, you are liars and hypocrites.  If you’re so keen on democracy, why can’t you allow others to choose a different form of government, without sabotaging and brainwashing them to think our way is better.  In practice, you people are the first to say it is not, because you reserve the right to be called the experts and to say the general populace does not understand.  And although we don’t have the death penalty here or openly recognise torture, you farm them out to other countries, and even practice them yourselves.  You have broken my heart today and every day you do this kind of thing.  You are so obviously, savagely, criminally, contemptuously dishonest, and you don’t care.  You spit in our faces.  You are liars, you are dogs, and I hate you.  Right now I could not hate you more.  What you’ve done and have been doing is monstrous, and so is what you have allowed.  This is just opportunistic attention shifting and another attempt to unite us against someone else you choose to call alien.  Why can’t you be decent?  Why can’t you make us a nation to be proud of?  Why do you lie and betray us?  Why do you make us want to turn our faces from you in shame?  Why do you let violent men rule over women who don’t even understand their language, so you can get on and do all this, and add your own forms of violence?  The world’s leaders, including those of the Middle East, should rise as one and condemn you.  I think most of us probably know you’re feeding us something disgusting.  Maybe in the UK news people are more voluble about saying so.  I am ashamed of you today, and I wish I didn’t know you.  I really mean that.  To me Gadaffi looks more bewildered than anything.  The photos you are putting out of him, he looks a lot like David Shearman.  You’ve done a lot of this.  i hate you for this, and your news and approach is not in my name.  I’m crying and I want to scream.  I have no one to grieve with over this, just as I had no one to grieve with when they killed Saddam Hussein, and before that when you first went to war with Afghanistan and Iraq.  I wish so much that I did, and I wish it could be you.  And your shouting weather woman who shouts so provocatively then talks about things being quiet, she and the others who do what she does, newsreaders and all, are hateful devils full of contempt.  I think Peter Dobby just said we can get the BBC World news in America, and I think that isn’t true.  And he just said took in the Bulgarian way, for here, that they often do.  Why don’t you just take a knife and carve bits out of my heart with it?  It’s violent and indecent.

It’s 9.26 pm UK time, 11.26 here, and suddenly everything is sweetness and light, Royal family and classical music, and Libya doesn’t exist anymore.  It is completely disorientating.  What is going on here?  This is violent brainwashing, and disorientation. I’m not sure what Ghita, another presenter, has to do with the weather forecast.  This is witchcraft.

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