Tag Archive: Premier Christian Radio


I don’t expect anyone to respect me for posting this.  I have sent emails to John.Pantry@premier.org.uk before, and to the station’s director, Peter Kerridge, years ago.  In the end I gave up, they never answered.  This one hasn’t been answered either.  If I were a faithful person I would wait for someone to contact me, trusting this has been passed on and is being dealt with.  Everyone knows, however, that I am not a faithful person.  I expect all my leaders and teachers to disapprove of what I am doing, and I also fear I might get myself killed or something, or that I will be put back in hospital, posting this.  My neighbour and his group are still confusing me, reacting to everything I’m doing all the time.  I feel like a dead body that the vultures are feeding on.

I have written before, years ago, about the times I urinated on the Church steps.  They keep brandishing it, as I say in my email, and stabbing at me with it.  It’s not only one or two, it’s all of them, but an example I can point you to is Rosie Wright this morning on Inspirational Breakfast, just before she started talking to people about the election result.  That’s what I think, anyway.  She said ‘we’ in a certain way, followed up by ‘been’.  I suppose her defence will be, if she feels she needs to give one, that it can’t be proved.  I found the way people were talking afterwards interesting, though.  It sounded not quite normal to me.  The copy of the email follows this long account of events leading up to the church steps event.

At the time this happened it was during the Toronto Blessing phenomenon in Church.  Often, when I was at my most vulnerable and open, the Church warden at St Barnabas in Finchley, John Knight, at the time, would rattle keys near me, which frightened me because I always thought it meant I had to get up because he wanted to lock up.  I don’t remember anyone ever having come to me to pray for me, though I think that is what they did with other people.  I was always thrown out into the street, blasted wide open and disorientated.  Sometimes I hung around outside the building, into the night, afraid to leave the vicinity, feeling as if part of me was stuck inside and I couldn’t go home without it.  When I did go home I was in a complete state all the way.

John Coles, the vicar at the time, did a series on Nehemiah once, a chapter a week.  I would turn up, unprepared, not having read the chapter (we weren’t expected to), and feel as if I was being dragged around all over the place.  So one day I decided to take control of and responsibility for my experience and read the chapter ahead of time so I might be more prepared.  He looked at me sitting in the congregation and said ‘the enemy reads ahead’.  I felt completely damned and didn’t know how to handle it.  To me, he had said it, that was that.  The same night I went forward and was lying on the steps to the platform and my legs started to shake vigorously and uncontrollably for several minutes.  No one came near me.  I went back the next week feeling wiped out.  Someone said shaking was a sign of judgment.  During the time that followed the service where the Holy Spirit was invited I was lying tired and exhausted on the floor and when i opened my eyes to get up I found that John Coles was lying at my feet.  I didn’t know what to do with it.  I got up and sat on a chair and talking with one of the other guys about my age at the time I just told him I felt sick.  Sometimes I wouldn’t get involved with the Holy Spirit paddling pool at the end, I would sit it out, because I thought I owed John and Anne something and had no right to try and get involved with the blessing time at the end.  I think they might have thought I was somehow resisting and disapproving, but I wasn’t, I was trying to show them honour and respect by not indulging myself in a ministry time while I thought things weren’t good between us.

I had previously asked John and his wife to forgive me for any hurt I had caused them, and as they had before, they said I hadn’t hurt them, but that there was no relationship.  So this time, instead of letting myself get all upset about it, I accepted it, deciding they couldn’t have a relationship with everyone, and I could just sit in the congregation and listen and try and be supportive in the best way I knew.  They weren’t happy with this either.  They seemed to be unhappy that I had accepted what they had said without contesting it.  If he looked at me in the congregation I would smile.  That was it.  he started trying to turn things around, get a different sort of response from me.  To get away from the pressure I started going to some other churches mid-week (I believed this was the right thing to do based on something I had read in the book the counsellors I had seen had asked me to read, saying you should shift your attention elsewhere), and they put pressure on me, too.  I had recently been introduced to the concept of boundaries by some counsellors I was told to see by a pastor connected to a Bible college I used to go to after I told him I kept feeling I needed to kneel to him but didn’t dare, and he picked a fight with me over it, saying on no account must I kneel to him.  He seemed to be teasing and taunting me at the end of services as he finished his sermons, saying ‘I’m going to the back now’ and things like that, and I was sitting there really upset, though I didn’t make a scene or anything.  He discussed it with other people involved in running the college and they decided I shouldn’t even be allowed into the building if that was what I wanted to do.  So I ended up with these counsellors, a man and wife, and she dropped out after a week or two, and the man saw me with another woman sitting in, and he used to pray really rigid prayers about what he wanted God to do for me and for Him to show me that this and that were not the answer.  I didn’t feel supported by the woman, I felt she was there as a witness and for his protection.  Anyway, He wanted me to read a book called Love Is A Choice, about establishing boundaries.  One of the things it said was that sometimes you needed to act from your mind rather than your emotions.  On that basis I used to go to churches wanting to listen to and think about what was being said without getting emotionally involved, and this attitude seemed to upset people, and they made me a recipient of what I felt to be negative attention and pressure.  I was called a witch a few times at Kensington Temple.  One man I tried to say a friendly hello to one day in the congregation took an attitude against me and was only happy when it was obvious I was really upset.  He smiled broadly then, with great satisfaction.  Killed me.  All this, and more, happened before I eventually ended up in a mental hospital for the first time.

Anyway, drawing these bits together: one day I was at St Barnabas for some reason talking to John Knight at the door and I asked if I could use the toilet (I used to have keys to the building before that, and was rudely asked for them back as I was trying to finish off a job).  I suppose I wasn’t servile and submissive enough, because he told me they would rather I went to the toilet in the tube station a little way up the road (this was after my first admission to a mental hospital).  On one of the nights, a week or two later, that I was scared to move away from the building I suddenly needed a loo, but there wasn’t one.  I thought about it, and apart from the fact that I had to go (it didn’t occur to me to go in the bushes or anything) I thought, ‘if they are going to call me a witch I might as well do something a witch might do and see what happens’.  I also thought it would be getting back at them for not having let me use the toilet previously when I had asked.  So I just used the steps up to one of the side doors.  Then sat there for the rest of the night, staring at it and thinking that I had thought it would dry, but it wasn’t doing.  I felt really weird.  Early in the morning I thought to myself that I ought to go home, that I had to go home, that something bad was going to happen if I didn’t.  But I didn’t go.  I hung around the tube station, feeling horrified at everything, and in the early afternoon I started to make my way to the vicarage up the road.  I bumped into Anne Coles.  I think I asked her if there was any chance I could go with John on his weekend mission trip to another church.  I really wanted to go, so I thought the only thing I could do was ask, or I might miss an opportunity.  Anyway, it wasn’t possible.  She said something about the fact that i had been hanging around all morning in the area (I suppose other people must have seen me and told her, but I hadn’t seen them.  She was carrying a big sack of carrots and said she wondered if she would be able to get it inside.  I instinctively went to help her and she swept the sack up and whisked it away from me.  I think she eyed me all the way to her front door then went inside.  I was really upset.  I felt completely desperate about everything.

So anyway, that is the story of the first time I urinated on the church steps.  The main reason was I needed to go.  The symbolism of it frightened me, that it had been in my mind and I had acted on it.  But in my opinion my leaders made it worse by being paranoid about it themselves.  They seemed to be totally freaked and wanted to take control but never said anything except that now he wanted me to sit right at the back in the corner of the church where the steps were.  I used to sit at the front, he said the keen ones sat at the front.  That was the only reference he ever made to it.  I believe symbolism only has the power we allow it.  I think the way they handled it, and have handled it over the years, made things worse.  It was 20 years ago, and they are still using it.  I can’t remember the reason I did it the second time, but I think they were controlling and I was symbolically trying to get control back.  Things are still so bad, I have felt so criminally and dishonestly treated by them over the years, that even after I wrote this email on Tuesday I thought to myself, ‘I would do it again’.

Just before these incidents I had been at Nottingham Christian Centre, as it used to be, after my first hospital admission.  I kept getting to church and feeling I should go and speak to David Shearman (one of his elders had told me to stay around, so I did for several weeks), and sitting down not daring to go near him and feeling really upset and guilty.  He would start calling me, so it seemed to me, and I would just sit there thinking it was me who was supposed to go to him without him asking.  This went on for weeks.  The first week he had passed where I was sitting and I had put my hand in his, like a child with a father.  He held it while he walked, then he just dropped it.  While he was preaching he looked at me and said ‘you tried to split a church’.  I didn’t say anything, it was in the middle of a sermon, it didn’t seem appropriate and he didn’t seem to want an answer, but I just looked at him and sat thinking, ‘no, I didn’t’.  He said something about ‘she doesn’t listen to anyone’.  At the end of the sermon he told people to close the doors, that it was a powerful thing to do, that there would be ‘no accursed thing’ in his church.  I had said to someone that I had been cursed at St Barnabas.  I thought he was calling me an accursed thing.  I went in one morning a few weeks later and I can’t remember why, but I burst into desperate tears in the middle of a congregational song, and the worship leader said ‘it’s raining!’  I had had this in hospital, and it really upset me here.  I think it was a week before that David Shearman had read the bit from Song of Solomon where it says ‘the winter is past the summer is come arise my love come to me’, or something like that.  I was sure he was saying it to me, but I had no idea what to do with it.  I wanted to go to him, but didn’t, and I felt bad that I didn’t.  Anyway, on the ‘it’s raining’ day David came charging past my seat like an upset bull, and I was sat forward with my head in my hands, terrified.  He had made a lot of references to Colin Dye at Kensington Temple that I thought were directed at me.  One night he read a passage where a prophet says to a king, or something like that, that although there is no food today, tomorrow there will be an abundance, but he would get none of it.  I thought that was aimed at me as well and I was frightened and angry, then he said, ‘put your hand up if you want the food’, and I refused, it felt humiliating.  I got to church one morning and was turned away, being told they had instructions not to let me in.  That was my teen years church home.  I was devastated.  On the day I cried I think they had called the authorities and had me admitted to hospital and this was the next week.  I went back to the hospital ward and the significance I felt was attached to what had just happened overwhelmed me and I kept screaming.  One of the nurses ordered me to stop screaming.  She didn’t ask me what was wrong, what had happened, and offered no comfort or support.  I felt homeless.  This was before I returned to London and was so out of control that I even thought about identifying with the accusations that I was supposed to be a witch.  I have been taught by at least one teacher that the essence of witchcraft is control.  I felt this was what they had been doing to me for years and I hit back.

—///—

Were it not for the fact that neither John Pantry nor Peter Kerridge ever reply to my emails I might have warned them that I was going to make this email public if they didn’t reply.  I did think about it but decided it would be a waste of time.

Dear John

 
The Manchester suicide bombing took place on 22nd May, the 45th anniversary of my father’s death which the coroner, without any statement of intent from my father, decided was suicide.  I believe you are aware of this and of other such coincidences as I have written about them on my blog, which I have reasons to believe you have been following, along with all my Facebook and Twitter activities and my email correspondences.  I am sure there must be other things, too.
 
You have been ‘narrowcasting’ to and/or about me now for years.  I have long said this is a human rights abuse, especially since you know that part of the reason for my mental health diagnosis is that I insist this is happening.  I have emailed you before, in tones you might not have liked, about this and you have always refused to answer my emails, and so has Peter Kerridge.
 
Now you seem to be putting out a barely covert appeal for me to come forward in some way.  It seems to me to have become more urgent since 22nd May.  I remember specifically hearing it in the last half hour of the show on 23rd.
 
I am finding this very disorientating.  I have said before that, because of your activities towards me, which I have believed to be illegal, and your pushing of the mental health agenda and the way you and others have used it in MY life, that the Church unrepentant on these things is not something I would feel either safe or honourable getting involved with again.  You might soften for me, but what about other people like me?  I have always said this.
 

It seems to me that the fact that you won’t just make contact with me openly, by email or something, means you still want to cover and justify your illegal harassment and, what seems to me, dishonest and cowardly pursuit of and agenda towards me.

 
These attacks are happening.  I’m not carrying them out.  It seems to me that if they are in any way connected with me, I am just an excuse.  You may or may not be able to begin to understand what effect that is having on my life.  Until now, it seems to me, it has not been that important to you, you seem to have dismissed or thought unimportant everything I have had to say about it.  But now you seem to be calling me forward for some reason.  I am wondering why, what you think can be done about it, how I can help, how you can help and support me . . . . I really need help and support at the moment, but don’t forget, I have experienced a lifetime of what the Church seems to believe to be an expression of love.  People telling me I was demon-possessed at age 13, without parental involvement, for one, because I stared too much.  This, and even things before it, have coloured my whole experience of my relationship with God and others.
 

I urinated on the Church steps.  You have been brandishing that one for ages, even though I tried to apologise for it.  That was 20 years ago, after my first admission to a psychiatric ward where I experienced lots of abuse and neglect and cruelty and was occasioned by the cruelty and rejection and attempts at control and manipulation I was experiencing in Church.  I was incredibly distressed and afraid, and completely disorientated.  You all like to flash this urinating thing around, but does it occur to you that the reason I did it in the first place was because my state of mind had been affected by all this?  It was awful, it was bloody, bloody awful.  I might have been immature in the way I was handling concepts that were new to me, about boundaries and things, and my own right to personal boundaries that even leaders had no right to transgress, but that did not call for me to be treated as I was and abandoned and categorised as mentally ill.  I was never even specifically confronted with this issue, everything was done by psychological suggestion.  Maybe somehow they thought I was supposed to fold in response to that and ‘confess all’, but I thought the accusation was supposed to come from them.  Impasse.

 
Why are you doing what you are doing towards me at the moment on the radio?  Why does no one make a proper approach?  Is it a security issue?  Is it for my protection and the protection of other innocent and law-abiding people?  It certainly affects my feeling, it often makes me feel afraid and guilty for not co-operating with this blatant but cloak-and-dagger approach.  It makes me feel like a bad citizen and a bad Christian.  In all, a bad person.  This is not a faith or religious issue, it is a legal issue, as much as anything else.
 
Sometimes I think the whole media circus over this is ridiculous.  I was thinking about it this morning and the verse, ‘the Lord will have them in derision’ came to mind.  You might not like the fact that I thought this in relation to you and you might think it inappropriate,  I’m not going to comment.  I do, however, think the present expression of Christianity to which I am exposing myself is acting illegally, it is just a radio station, and Christianity does not stand or fall with it.  I am sorry you are too afraid to take proper responsibility.
 

This is my initial response to your – overtures?  Please reply, or pass it on to someone you think should.

 
Susan Barnett

https://www.premierchristianradio.com/Shows/Weekday/Inspirational-Breakfast/Episodes/Inspirational-Breakfast767

Following my email to John Pantry yesterday, today’s Premier Christian Radio’s ‘Inspirational Breakfast’ is not available.  This has happened at times that seemed significant to me before, often, and sometimes most of the station’s shows have been not available for days at a time.

One of the verses in the Bible I sometimes feel shamed by is in Proverbs where it says:

Like a gold ring in a pig’s snout
Is a beautiful woman without discretion

I’m sure it is one of the verses I was brought up on in my teens in the Pentecostal Church in the 70s, just as significant women’s rights legislation was coming into being.  Maybe it is right that I should feel shamed by it.  Maybe being a beautiful, quiet, submissive woman with a sweet voice is the way to go.  Never speaking up in time, always seeing and having my own communication ruled by a larger perspective, more responsible, loving and peace-seeking.  Always allowing others the space they need to build their own barriers, make their own decisions unchallenged, un-nagged, unbetrayed.  I think this is seen, uniquely, as a feminine virtue, or sin if you fail, even now, in the kind of Church I have spent my life in since 12 years old, that I felt a bit bullied into not leaving because they had the truth.  And actually, I am sure they did.

After I sent my email yesterday lunchtime I was in a taxi on the way to the railway station and a police car passed in front of us horizontally on the road we were approaching, with quite a few other cars in between us.  I felt a bit awkward and looked away instinctively but before I did I am sure the driver looked into the taxi and looked at me and raised his hand to me in acknowledgement.  I don’t know why, I had asked John to reply or to pass it on to someone he thought should.  I can’t explain it, believing everything I have believed about what has been happening to me over the years.  Then coming home last night, at about 9.30 pm in the station, there was a young police officer in a helmet who I think was on a mobile phone or something.  As soon as I saw him he turned his back abruptly, though not aggressively or in anger, as far as I could tell.  It confused me as to what I was supposed to do about it, I wanted to approach him and talk to him.  A feeling of faith said it would have been the right thing to do.  But I didn’t, I continued walking.

The Manchester ‘suicide bombing’ was on the same date as the 45th anniversary of my father’s so-called suicide.  Any readers of my blog may remember that I have drawn attention to such coincidences before.  Another was the bomb a few years ago now, near an Osho ashram just after I started listening to Osho recordings on Napster and, it seemed to me and I’m sure it was, Kensington Temple started matching their rhythms which were, ordinarily, very different from their own.  My email to John Pantry yesterday was in response to the fact that, at least in the last half hour of the show on 23rd May, the day following the Manchester bombing, their extremely ‘narrowcast’ appeal to me seemed to be quite obvious.  Even though I think they have always ignored every other coincidence I have talked about over the years, this time they seemed quite urgent, and have done ever since.  I wrote some emails to him several years ago which he didn’t answer, I suppose because he found them angry and disrespectful, saying I thought what they were doing to me was dishonest and a human rights abuse and for that reason I didn’t really want to put myself back in a Church.  Yesterday I said that hadn’t really changed.

Except in my feelings, in my fears, in my beliefs about what I am forever forfeiting in terms of relationship by writing this kind of blog post, that isn’t true.  Quite a few times over the last few months John has used a prayer saying may we bow to God in true repentance and to each other in true forgiveness, and that has felt like a plea and an invitation to me, as if they are honouring me with it, and I am betraying them and my own heart, soul and spirit by perversely and unreasonably declining the invitation.  I often see myself at the moment as being, and as having been for many years, proud, and I think I will be seen that way.  I think I am doing tremendous damage to any hopes of reconciliation by writing this blog post, that I am wrong and consequently I am destroying all possibility that they will ever trust me.  I often have absolutely no confidence in the position I have taken or in the way I am and have been trying to work it out.

Also last night I went into a pub in town for a drink while I waited for my next bus which was half an hour off.  I approached the bar and one of the staff I had spoken to in the past was right in front of me and completely ignored me, so I didn’t say anything either.  Then another of the staff, a man who I think was off duty, said something about ‘parrot now’, and I was sure it was code for me to hear as ‘paranoid’, which made me feel shocked, offended and disempowered as it was nothing acknowledged and probably wouldn’t have been if I had said anything.  I sat upset and uncomfortable the whole time I was there. thinking about it.  At one point I thought, maybe they are right, maybe I am being paranoid, and I sort of smiled, at which point the girl behind the bar looked at me in a way which made me think she was thinking, ‘there you are, you see, it’s all in your mind, we are right’, without making the connection that they had actually put it out there in the first place.  You can’t do anything in that kind of situation.  And the more I thought about it the worse it seemed to me.  I was being picked on like this in a pub which calls itself a ‘safe space’ for vulnerable people, has street pastors operating.  What can you do, what can you say?  A ‘safe space’, but won’t leave you alone and respect your privacy if, somehow, you seem not to conform or make an effort to connect in the way they seem to want you to if they set out to ignore you and perceive the responsibility as being on you?  At the end of the day, for most customers, it’s just a pub!!!!  NOT an exclusive club with membership rules and requirements on either party.  You don’t have relationship commitments in a city pub -or has all that changed?  Anyway . . . . Not the point of this post – originally.

PS OK, ignore the original basis of this post.  In the last 1½ hours, somewhere between noon and now, Inspirational Breakfast has become available.  But usually it is made available by about 9.15 am, so everything I have said remains relevant.  I’m not hedging it about with ‘I believes’ and ‘in my opinions’: I only do that to keep the psychiatric team off of me.  I’m sure they still read my blog.  The only thing they ever commit to is labelling and coercive treatment.  If I’m wrong, I’m wrong.  It’s not a crime, it’s not a sign of mental illness, and I’m not drawing up a contract or deposition.  Shame on the system that has, for years, had me afraid to be definite without allowing a possibility that I might be wrong.  I have not seen them allowing for a possibility that they might be wrong with me or anyone else.  Funny, that, isn’t it?  Psychiatry, and other powers and authorities, can’t be wrong.

Have I Learnt Something?

Everyone knows the background and experience from which I am saying this, so I won’t go into it again.  I think I’ve learnt that MY life and the way I actually WANT to be treated doesn’t matter to ANYONE.  No one takes anything by faith, they want to see what THEY believe to be evidence first, and even then they insist on their own terms, hiding and justifying their crimes of stalking and corruption.  I’m scared to say this, I feel as if I am committing an indecency and outrage.  My heart is really soft, I’m always aware of my own failures and inconsistencies when I say something like this.  At some point in Church I was taught that we shouldn’t defend ourselves.  That confession of sin should be confession of sin and we should make no excuses.  One pastor, at least, said that as Christians we have no rights.  I suppose that must be ordinary Christians like me, not Church leaders, who seem to feel they have the right to twist and break the law in relation to me and maybe call it discipline, I don’t know what they are calling it anymore.  The expectation seems to be that they call and identify from their studios and platforms and I should respond.  Or are they deliberately trying to keep me alienated by continuing to do something they know I believe is holding onto their corruption and criminality towards me, as a mental patient in particular?  Are they just identifying me to others, in my hearing, should I choose to listen, and criticising my life to hide their own crimes?  Sometimes I really think so, that I think I matter too much if I actually think they are calling me by these methods.  Shouting out and bullying and cowering behind the trenches, wheedling and pleading, bitter, acrid, sugary, anything and everything except send an email or something that puts any power into my hands and takes any responsibility.  I have so many memories.  That’s just the Church, let alone secular media.  And those memories are added to daily.

Latest Development With My Neighbour

I’ve written about my neighbour before, how he keeps banging and shouting at me.  He’s been doing it for months, especially when I have my music on, even if it’s not particularly loud, at points where I feel it begins to open up.  He does it when I’m singing as well, even when it’s not loud, and it rarely is, I’ve been that intimidated in recent months.  He used to say he liked my singing.  Now he seems to be using my points of openness to command me like a dog.  I know he’s having problems, and I have said repeatedly that he should go to the police, but he seems to prefer to make me feel miserable.  Recently I’ve been finding ways to yield and not vent, to go inside myself, but sometimes I boil over and, after about two hours of it last night I decided I’d had enough.  The thing is, he sometimes sounds so pathetic, it goes right to my heart.  But there is nothing I can do.  The power is in his hands, and he prefers to use it towards me.

I’ve been feeling really desperate about this for ages.  I reported it to the council, I told them everything, including the fact that I was getting hysterical and shouting back and that I was concerned for him and that we used to have a good relationship, or so I felt, even though, on closer examination, the harassment from his household started quite early in my tenancy, but it only manifested as one incident which I felt to be a shocking and outrageous invasion of privacy.  Someone from the council came round and he told them there was no problem, that I had a lovely singing voice and was very supportive.  I’ve not been able to be ‘supportive’ towards him for ages, and don’t see that as my role anyway, even if he wants to co-opt me into it.  I just wanted to be a good, friendly neighbour, and tried to be that for ages.  Recently I have been feeling so desperate and angry I have sometimes been channelling it into thoughts like he will die before me, hopefully.  I can’t always just make my anger go away, it won’t always dissolve, sometimes it’s just overpowering and won’t be transformed into anything else, and I’ve usually felt I have to find a way not to vent it on him outwardly so I’ve been letting myself think these thoughts.  Often, if I haven’t said anything, he’s just kept going, and I’ve kept feeling destroyed by it, and sometimes when I have shouted at him to stop I have felt I should have done it before, that he has just been taking advantage.  Why don’t I just go round?  I’m often embarrassed, and he is crafty and a liar, in my eyes.

Last night he yelled out while I had my music on and I interpreted it as ‘no’, so eventually I shouted back, ‘yes, actually’.  I can’t remember if he was still yelling out at me when things eventually blew last night, but I shouted through my wall for him to stop harassing me, and he gave one sharp bang, which really upset me, and I shouted at him to stop, and he gave another, deliberate and well placed bang.  I was outraged and beside myself, seeing this as violence, at least on a psychological level, and thinking it was sadistic, cold, cruel and calculated.  So I shouted at him to leave, because he wasn’t going to drive me out.  Then I shouted that, if he banged at me again, I would call the police.  My hysteria kept coming in waves as everything was suddenly silent and I interpreted it as contempt and that he only goaded me to make me break down and that he enjoyed the show.  In my desperation I told him I was finished as far as he is concerned, that there is no longer any good will coming from me towards him, and that I couldn’t wait for him to die, and I wouldn’t be sorry, and I hoped it would be soon.  I told him I wouldn’t apologise for what I had said, and that he could live the rest of his tenancy next door to me knowing that this beautiful, kind, loving, talented woman just wanted him to die.  Judge me, if you like.  I’ve taken all I am prepared to take.  I can’t stay open to this kind of behaviour, and won’t.  I decided he needed to know exactly how he was making me feel and that he needed to deal with that.  I’ve decided he’s not reasonable, he just wants to appear that way.  He is a complete coward.  He’s been doing the same stuff this morning as well.

Also, I have recently stopped feeling obliged to put my bins out every time the collection is due, because I have very little waste, and it has also turned out for me to be a way of living my life here on my terms and not feeling controlled by other people’s timetables, as if I have to keep jumping to it when other people and their routines seem to say I should.  Premier Christian Radio has, on several occasions recently, made a thing of talking about putting bins out, together with other things they target me with, and I’m wondering if he has talked to them.  I’m feeling ganged up on, again, as I believe, in actual fact, I am being.

Edit note: 6:10 pm – Lol, just to make me a liar, it is available now!  This is a recent thing, they used never to become available, or at least, I would have given up after days of trying if they did!

I posted what I thought were some quite significant things yesterday, and wrote some official emails I needed to write to Nottingham City Homes, to whom I have reported my situation with my neighbour and who, in spite of my explaining to them that I am an emotionally and psychologically vulnerable person and find face to face conversations with people who have power in my situation difficult because I often find them manipulative and overpowering, have been insisting that they cannot progress my complaint without a face to face meeting.  This, in spite of the fact that I have told them everything I can, there is nothing more to tell, really, and that I have said I want to keep things in writing for legal reasons.  I asked them in 3 or 4 emails over 2 or 3 days if there was another way to approach the situation, and the person involved kept replying with emails that didn’t answer the question.  In the end I said I was not prepared to trust them in a face to face conversation anyway if they would neither confirm nor deny the possibility of a different approach.  And guess who feels in the wrong?  Muggins, me!  I feel guilty and so unworthy of their kind attention!  Honestly, I’m not being sarcastic.  This must be manipulation at its best, don’t you think?

This is relevant to the title of my post because, for some time now, Premier has been making especially its Inspirational Breakfast unavailable at times when I have written something that, to me seems to be quite significant.  They feed lots of things back to me as well, that they shouldn’t, it seems to me, have access to.  As I have said before, they are not the only ones who do this.  Everyone who is accessing me and withholding from me in this way is making me feel reliant on them and that I should be and am grateful to them and I think that is wrong.

The stalking started with Premier and the Church, over 20 years ago now.  But secular media have been doing the same thing, both to me and to people connected with me.  Some of my Facebook friends have recently posted some very interesting material which demonstrates this.  Music I have played recently has started to feature a lot in adverts, for instance.  A lot, it seems to me it can only be by design.  I am needing to stress and assert this because I know my nurses, at least, read this blog and I am afraid of the actions  they they could take towards me so much I believe I have to do my best to make myself absolutely clear and justify what I am saying.  Otherwise I wouldn’t feel the need to bother doing that.  It does seem to me it makes things quite laboured.  Really it is a form of stalking in itself.  They claim no awareness of what is happening.  Strange, so many other people are made aware.

OK, full stop.  Not going to pad it out or try and write a piece with a good ending today.  Just some factual stuff.  Have a good day.  Thanks for reading.

After the things I have seen and heard today, I am not surprised that some people with psychiatric diagnoses are driven to violence. I, for one, find no way to blame them.
Psychiatry is an abusive system, and so are the media outlets that are involved in targeting vulnerable people with psychological assault, be they secular or religious. If they have become bedfellows may they have joy of each other.
They will be the blind leading the blind, and God will hold them accountable for all the pain and misery they cause and the tyrannies they uphold. It is possible that they might never be brought to account in this life, but there is a life to come and a price to pay. As long as they continue in what they are doing, they themselves will be liable for that price.
I wonder how many other psychiatric patients they have persecuted in the same way, and thus driven them to the atrocities we hear about and the media loves to highlight as caused by ‘mental illness’.
I am in shock and totally grossed out and in despair at what I have just seen, people knowingly packaging stuff together that I have given them, faces wreathed in smiles.
In some ways it would be easy to smile with them. But if I do that, I will be betraying myself and many weaker people who are going through the same thing.
I said years ago that I stand with those who are unjustly called mentally ill, those who have suffered the abuse of both psychiatry and society, including the church, and I still do. We might be a disparate lot, but all of us know what it is to be stripped of our human rights.
I gave them stuff to empower them for people I thought were vulnerable to media stalking because of me, and they have used it against me, while still naming those people in their programmes, packaging names together in ways that makes the group and individuals identifiable to itself. They are fully responsible for their actions in doing that, and have no right to judge or punish me for my response or lack of response. What they are doing is criminal, there are no two ways about it.
The people they are naming are vulnerable because of and TO the naming, not because I let them be named. I have drawn attention to it before, and for my efforts been told my belief it is happening is a symptom of mental illness. It is obvious though, and it is not a symptom of mental illness. I refuse to accept either blame or responsibility for their savagery, and maintain my right to stay separate from those who stalk me, until they contact me in an accountable manner, be they Christian or not. They are breaking my heart and breaking my confidence, but they cannot break my knowledge that what they are doing to me and others is illegal.

A while ago I made a new blog out of the blog entries and forum posts that I had copied and saved from my Premier Radio blog, which was where I started blogging.  I’ve been meaning to put the link up for ages so here it is: http://premierchristianradiorejects.wordpress.com/

There is a big thing about veganism and me trying to think it through as a Christian who since my teens was brought up to believe in the sacrificial death and atoning blood of Jesus.  It hardly seems necessary for me to say now that I don’t believe the death of Jesus was required arbitrarily by God as a thing in itself, but that it was necessary for Jesus to give Himself up to death as an act of love.  At least that is how I was thinking.  I’ve begun to see it more politically recently.  That when Jesus said that no prophet ever died outside of Jerusalem He wasn’t being acerbic or sarcastic but was speaking a fact, and that that was what He meant when He said no one takes my life, I lay it down myself.  He laid it down by going back into Jerusalem when He knew they wanted to arrest Him.  If we believe in a literal resurrection, though, that was a miracle of God, in a way that His ability to give or withhold His life once they had Him was not, given that He did not call angels to stop the whole thing.

That was my favourite discussion topic that I started on that blog.  Without looking I don’t remember what else is there.

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.

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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.

Desperate enough that this should be seen.  I know reading a blog does not hold you legally accountable, but in a situation like this, any authority which hides behind that is corrupt and indecent, though I have heard politicians in my own country’s parliament use that for derision of a fellow member.  I, on the other hand, am completely powerless and illegally diminished.  Please do not plead that legal get out clause with me.

I just let my neighbours have this, as reliably as I could using Google Translate.  This is where I have always stood, and repeatedly said so, and written so, though what I have written has been legally ignored with the dishonest excuse I have already mentioned.  I always know now that, at least here in Bulgaria, there is a whole mafia, physically dangerous or seemingly benign, that is watching what I write as I write it.  My upstairs neighbours love making me aware that they are a part of it.  I also said to them, at the end of what I am going to quote, that the fact the were up there now doing what they are doing, and not with the police, is a crime.  I also said that they are so indecent and sadistic using my little Bulgarian knowledge against me for interventions and emotional and thought control, they have no right to exist.  That is strong and maybe they are doing it unconsciously, but I don’t think so.  I have told them before I have little Bulgarian and they use that against me, so they are conscious.  If they think it doesn’t matter that is something else, they are selfish and stupid.

I know that authorities, legal and political authorities and church authorities, in both countries, know my exact address.  I also know a lot of what you know you know from my blog, or from what used to be seen quite clearly as illegal hacking, but is now being presented to me, in my case, as a grey area, and communication to the police which their website says will receive an answer in a number of days not being replied to at all.  This is gross.  This is corrupt.  The only victims of stalking you are interested in are the ones already in the public eye either through celebrity or through tragedy which has allowed you to make their names household words.  It is completely corrupt.  The rest of us can lose our homes and anything else, and be slandered and misrepresented and violently harassed, and rot in a mental hospital if we squeak when you don’t lift a criminal and corrupt finger to deal with your fellow criminals with whom I have to share close breathing space.  If I say I’m being stalked, you say that belief is a sign of metal illness, but if someone with the public eye and ear says it, you have to jump to it, while covering your own stalking, and run your exposes on the people who have failed to cover their tracks.

This is the word of the Lord.  Thanks be to God.  (Truth, in other words.  The bible says, ‘thy word is truth’.  So I suppose all truth is God’s word.  [she has just brayed ‘yes.  I’m not moaning, but this is exactly the kind of mentally and emotionally and spiritually violent abortion I am talking about.n  nThis woman is a gloating, free, sadistic, mentally and spiritually abusive criminal.  And you are deliberately nurturing and protecting her.  This makes me hysterical with pain and she plays on that as well.  My whole mind knows she is smacking her vampire chops on my blood.  You know it too.  One of them keeps tapping at all of my sentences and attempts to connect at this point.  This is their usual behaviour.  My stats say I have under 10 readers most days and no one is ever seen to comment.  I know there is other stuff going on, you all communicate it.  There is something illegal and abusively manipulative going on with my stats here, whatever the source of that manipulation.  Either that or there is a real and indecent and self-protecting indifference, maybe even under instruction from unspiritual and illegal church authorities.  If I slag off my church authorities or any other, right or wrong, these bastards above me love it.  It is like gloatingly, cruelly, maliciously and sadistically saying ‘you’re not supposed to criticise your authorities’].  I hear the cruelty.  I hear the dripping blood from her mouth.  This hallelujah and dobre sayer, these violent people, physical and mentally – are they being accepted by church authorities as Christian?  You should tell me, one way or the other.  In Bulgaria they say over 90% of the population is Christian.  I don’t know if they are accepting the self-definition and possibly deliberately misleading assertions of criminals like these who remain free to violate and abuse, or not.  It is something I do need to know.)

(Edit note)  I would have put this at the end, but when I tried I couldn’t create a new paragraph.  I found this interview with a non-consensual CIA behaviour modification program survivor.  I found it under the brainwashing tag, at the moment it is the featured post on that board.  As I said in my comment to the blogger, the final sentence of the interview hit me with the power of a whole world, emotionally.  The survivor said, ‘there are no good guys to root for anymore’.  That could be turned round and people could say ‘but that is obviously not true and in this technological age some surveillance methods are necessary which people might say are an invasion of privacy and while tragic mistakes happen we try to avoid them, obviously, and put them right as soon as we know’.  I have to say, if you really believe that is a right and justified position, why are you trying to hide your communication and activity towards me?  National security?  I have no personal security anymore, so it can’t be that.  So I suppose that might make me a traitor, and if that is true, then I am obviously sorry and I feel it deeply.  But coping with believing that, in that case, all my beliefs about the wrongness of your surveillance programmes is wrong itself, leaves me vulnerable and disorientated.  That and you keeping me as a fugitive with nothing but your sunny smile and your benefits, your illegal and evasively irresponsible sticking plaster on this atrocious haemmorhage, but which makes you feel you are at least doing something and me feel could be turned round on me as my criminality at any moment that suited you, or that at least I should be obedient and grateful and co-operative.  This vampire woman is going for the emotional blood of my throat.  She is making me want to beg, and when you don’t answer, that is part of their triumph.  If they are not going to be punished for this, that is evil.  They are treating me like a seance spirit they have a right to tap at and call up.  And sometimes, usually, it is more violent than just tapping.  And she keeps the psychologically and emotionally contradictory vocalisations coming, and you all look pretty and misty and tearful into your cameras.  That is indecent.  She is vomiting ugliness all over me.  I’m covered in blood, and it isn’t holy, and I haven’t shed it.

I had a pastor once, or I read it somewhere, who said don’t believe the devil even if he speaks the truth.  Recently I’ve wondered why not, as that enables people to ignore people they don’t like, and that can be cruel and cutting.  I would modify it to don’t assume the devil has a right to hold you accountable, even if he speaks the truth.  And don’t let anyone working on his behalf believe they have that right either. They are using their loud tv now.  We all know how it works, it has been happening and witnessed long enough.  WE ALL KNOW HOW IT WORKS.  STOP PUTTING US AWAY FOR SAYING SO IF YOU FEEL THREATENED.  STOP DOING EVERYTHING TO US SHORT OF MURDER.  STOP TELLING US WE ARE FREE AND PUTTING US IN MENTAL HOSPITALS FOR TALKING ABOUT OCCULTISM AND STALKING WHILE YOU YOURSELVES KNOW AND ARE DOING IT, EVEN IF YOU WANT TO INTELLECTUALISE IT AND BACK IT UP WITH SCIENTIFIC SMART(IE)S AND DON’T WANT TO FACE THE FACT THAT THAT IS WHAT IT IS THAT YOU ARE DOING.(end of edit note)

Oh, there were several time gaps between the conveying of the following paragraphs because of several things, not least Google Translates volume limitation.  They were active throughout.  The first thing they do when they hear me go to bed is bang on my ceiling, after a few minutes, and sometimes wake me up intermittently the same way.  Whatever time of the day or night.  And they still bang and comment whern I go to the toilet.  I daren’t go, they are so emotionally manipulative I think it is me that is wrong and it is my fault.  The way she is braying at the moment is making me feel she is bloody with her own blood and that it is my fault.

you are violent criminal stalkers and I do not welcome the knowledge that you are stalking everything I read and watch and listen to and write on the internet at the moment that I am doing it.  You are more like abortionists than midwives.  What results is mutilated and what should have been is never seen or conceived in my own mind, such is the trauma or the enormity of your position that such stalking could possibly be right.  I would like to know what Christian leaders you are getting your advice from, because they also know I hold this position.  Even while I am writing this, I can hear your comments and reactions, and that also changes what might have been said.  You are interfering with my mind.  I am sure you must realise, but are too proud and selfish to say so, that this is wrong and complete inhumanity and fascism.  This is Google translate.  I hope you will understand.  With you in this situation it is all I am willing to use. Brainwashing cult.
Stop deliberately dropping whatever you deliberately drop on my ceiling.  It sounds as if it could be rosary beads, usually.  You are violently and dangerously superstitious, and abusing the graces of Christian symbolism.  Stop all of your emotional manipulation and alteration techniques, all of which I am familiar with.  Stalking my typing keeps you on top of being able to do that, and I can’t say anything of my own or the way I want to say it.  Therefore I will give you nothing.  You only have what has been violently stolen by others and given to you, or what you have violently stolen yourselves.  First you drop what you drop, then make me hear you moderating and modulating the emotional tone of what I and everyone else around here hears coming from you, while I know the reason you need to do that in the first place, you violent stalking criminals, is that you are second by second criminally accessing my computer and all that happens on it.  This is first degree metal abuse and torture.  If Jesus had a grave, he would turn in it. 

 I don’t care what you are dropping, you are doing it deliberately and for harassment aqnd you have no right.  Stop your torture tapping even as I write.  I assume you know you are stopping my ability to deal with illegtal eviction procedings in my only British home?  It is in my emails.  That is part of your emotional arsenal and spiritual abuse.  You are disgusting and indecent, all of you involved in this.  I have 10 days before I become homeless in the UK.  I am sure you must know this.  whether you do or not, there is no excuse for your activity.  You can abort my mental connections and emotional appropriateness but you cannot silence my words.  But I cannot deal face to face with dishonest and violent people who have power over my life with those connections cut.  You are trying to make me dependent, weak and powerless, whatever it costs me, and however criminal you yourselves have to be.  If you are Chistians I suppose you want to chalk up a triumph for your brand of Christianity and take the credit for any rescue.  That is warped. 

This is what I wrote before the two unscripted emotional safety outburst you just heard.  You savage, harassing woman, you do not have my permission to vocalise or communicate to me in any other such way that you are aligning yourself, in your sweet little mind only and with no benefit to me in changes in your actions and output, in agreement.  Such communication is a violent verbal assault and insult.  And don’t clatter your dishes at what you know I have written and am going to say.  I think this will make a good blog entry for today.  I’ve copied it all to email, as you know.  

O . . .

(Public Health Warning: more mangled blood and guts, but also an attempt to address the issue of goading and chain-yanking, failed, unfortunately, on the whole, and I’m not the sort to incubate a post and try again.  I talk about the guy who got water thrown in his face by Spurgeon, I think, when he told Spurgeon he was perfect, and he got angry, which I think might have been the perfect reaction to Spurgeon’s mischief and therefore did not disprove his statement).

That is my open mouth, made silent with hysterical fear.

I’m living in Sofia now.  The woman above me screams hallelujah in the most hateful voice every time I feel I have a good communication and I can communicate it.

I want to scream for help and I can’t, it is that psychologically, emotionally and spiritually abusive.  I can’t express anything without feeling dishonest or that I am going to disintegrate or, if I am angry, be attacked, even physically.  She makes me feel she is my friend and I should ask her to forgive me and help me, whatever I feel she voices differently.  I said that because . . . well, if you read this blog, you know.  There is a man from whom the only vocalisation I hear is an angry or frightened throat-clearing.  That feels to me like part of the illusion, if it is an illusion, of their goodness.  If he spoke it might not persist.  But his vocal silence is also part of the oppression.

She is attacking my soul and spirit with razors and bludgeoning me with hatred which feels like a physical mallet to the head.

Combined with the banging . . .

So is this orchestrated, because it is happening everywhere I go.  Who is behind it?

The most torturous thing about this for me is the church’s dishonesty and use of these things.  Someone on Premier was talking about chain yanking this morning, and that is what she is doing and that is what Premier and the church have been doing for years – the way they have kept saying ‘crazy’, for instance, and pushing psychiatry.  This man said so this morning, he pointed it out himself.  What they have been doing is sadistic, cruel and abusive.  That must always have been obvious to them, surely, and if it hasn’t been . . . either way they are not fit to  hold ministerial duties of any description.

I don’t know if I’m imagining that when my recording was interrupted near the end this morning, John Pantry became annoyed because his attempt to build a bridge had been interrupted.  How would he have known, without illegal access to my computer?

Sometimes it feels like protection and I feel unworthy and shameful calling it criminal.  But it isn’t really.  It isn’t really protective.  They are keeping me imprisoned by their evasion of responsibility, procrastination, holding on to power, refusal to apologise officially, if not openly.

I don’t want a bridge back to the world where leaders are not first prepared to own their wrongdoing before I cross that bridge.  Own it where everyone can see, in a committed way. . .

One of the ministers involved, I think it was R T Kendall, but I’m not sure, told this story of someone who said to Spurgeon, I think, that he, the person speaking to Spurgeon, was perfect.  That he believed he was perfect.  Spurgeon (if it was him) said ‘oh, really?’ and threw a glass of water at him, and the man became angry, and everyone laughed at him.

The same chain-yanking.  That is hardly perfect, is it?

Now, was the man expressing imperfection to express anger in that situation?  Is anger a sign of imperfection?  But the Bible says Jesus was angry.  Our teachers have had it for ages that Jesus’ anger was different, that it was perfect and righteous anger.

It doesn’t say, though, that He ever pulled anything like this self-righteous, judgmental, proud, debasing, mischievous and malicious chain-yanking.  At least, not on true seekers and people who expressed something they thought they had grasped as a truth.

An exception comes to mind, possibly, in Mark 7.

Jesus Honors a Syrophoenician Woman’s Faith

24 Jesus left that place and went to the vicinity of Tyre.  He entered a house and did not want anyone to know it; yet he could not keep his presence secret. 25 In fact, as soon as she heard about him, a woman whose little daughter was possessed by an impure spirit came and fell at his feet. 26The woman was a Greek, born in Syrian Phoenicia. She begged Jesus to drive the demon out of her daughter.

27 “First let the children eat all they want,” he told her, “for it is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to the dogs.”

28 “Lord,” she replied, “even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.”

29 Then he told her, “For such a reply, you may go; the demon has left your daughter.”

30 She went home and found her child lying on the bed, and the demon gone.

I’m not supposed to criticise this man, but what was he about here?  If he wasn’t being provocative, it could be put down to insensitivity because of tiredness, or some sort of irritation.  Our leaders say He was correcting her attitude.  But if it wasn’t that, if it was a lack of perfect response, where does that leave us in terms of my Friend Jesus’ perfection?  He;s my friend, I can’t talk about Him and theorise about Him like this.  But I just have, and for the usual reasons it has to remain.

But back to the perfect man who got angry when the person he told threw a glass of water at him.

In the Bible David said that God’s enemies were his enemies, and that he hated them with a perfect hatred.  I’ve heard it said that David did not have the complete revelation that we have today.  Would they say that of this occasion?  No, not all of them.  There would be different opinions backed up with chapter and verse and personal experience they felt was surrounded with the approval of those that matter to them.  I know for sure there would be some who agonised more over the truth than to be satisfied with that low standard of agreement, potentially low, at least, but I don’t know how many.

I got to this stage with St Barnabas’ Church.  They opposed me in every way, locking down on me and preaching at me.  I had read a book recommended by a Christian counsellor, on boundaries, which said that negative emotions were a sign that something was wrong.  I was going home, time after time, feeling devastated, and one night in bed I was frightened by a feeling of hatred.  I was also angry, I thought they were opposing what God was doing in my life.  I find that a bit embarrassing now.

But that was the verse which came to my mind, and I embraced it, because I couldn’t get rid of the feeling of hatred, so I actively justified it.  Hindsight says if I had done this or that . . . but nothing within me which is saying anything gets much chance to be heard at the moment, it is silenced by the violence around me, and as soon as I can strongly own and express anything from within, the harassment starts without and I am left too hysterical to cope.  I’m trying to argue something when I want to scream and beg and cry, since every time I feel I can and should surrender I refuse it.  I feel I should go up to them, apologise and ask what the problem is, then we could begin to sort everything out.  That is what I see and what I feel condemned by.  Her hallelujah makes me feel joy, but what about the rest?  It is chaos.  It is also illegal, and they know what I think of that.  It is the word I am reacting to, not the people or their activity.  I feel she even steals, with her occult violence, the tone of joy which would be in my own voice if I said it myself.  That must be where the confusion comes in.  I can’t validate this, it is so wrong.  I’m not the only one who hears them, and not everyone rejoices, I am sure.  I don’t want to be patronised by people saying poor Sue, come home.  I want people to focus on the issue of chain-yanking, and if I could focus on it myself it would help!  I try to be serious and have to be humorous.  Why?  I feel thumped in the head and I can’t cope with the pain.  There is no point waiting for a better time.  It never happens.  Don’t get bogged down in the circumstantial stuff that comes pouring out just because I don’t know how to edit it away. They seem to feel it when I calm down and start justifying them in my mind, and I hear them say dobre with a smile.  But I know what they are doing and it isn’t OK?  Or is it here?  Is this a valid and acceptable expression of Christianity here?  If it is, I’m out of step.  I feel as if I want to join in, like a party.  Go up and say hello and bubble along with them.

It’s a form of psychological harassment and censorship.  Who wants to read the silage that I insist on letting pour out of me, or allow by default, instead of being a normal, generous, kind, forgiving, friendly person and neighbour?

The point I was going to make was that I think there is something wrong with the theory and theology of leaders who can make a good and positive thing out of this incident of cruel chain-yanking in one of their traditions major heroes.

If that anger from the man came out of a damaged emotional place, it was incredibly cruel for him to expose it in that way.  Granted I don’t know the whole story, maybe it was just a bit of robust male joshing. I don’t know how the man took it after his anger was over.  But what if it wasn’t from a damaged emotional place?  What if it was the perfect reaction to such mischief and malice towards what he believed God had said to him?  Then who is the laughingstock?  If there should be one at all.  If our emotions are appropriate to the situation then they are perfect in that situation, aren’t they, so what he said wasn’t disproved at all.  In a sense we are perfect, and not just by imputation.  In a sense, as individuals, we are perfect, if people don’t interfere with us.  But they do, when we are too vulnerable to resist or realise.  I can’t do this, I’m tired and hurt.  I can’t think and write it through.  I’m mixing everything up all over the place when I started out believing I knew exactly what I wanted to say and where I wanted to go with it.  I’m already editing after first reading, and that isn’t doing me much good either.  I am ill and traumatised, I must be, to put this abortion out.

Another thing:  I believe this thing we call robust joshing is itself a manifestation and denial of pain.  Or is it just a healthy switching off every now and again?  It must be.  It must be me that is crazy.  So someone invite me to come and have some fun?  To live your whole life in the perfect therapy session and healing moment after healing moment, at least one participant has to be perfect.  And where have I got this idea from that therapy and healing is all about deep and querulous and earnest talk and tears and quietly and meditatively going about your business? ‘Tain’t, is it?

But what if, instead of throwing water over him and laughing at his anger, he had accepted the statement with respect and watched his friend over a period and tried to understand what he was saying and learn something instead?

It is thump in the back salvation.  I’m wondering if I am being a pathetic wimp if I object to that.  The people I have felt close enough to to love over recent years, and want to model myself on, I am thinking possibly I have only seen them awkward and afraid and desperate and making an effort, because of me and my situation.  Maybe they too are back thumpers and I have just not seen it, and I myself need to enter the real world of rough and tumble where people do not always treat each other with reverence and respect and it is OK.

????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

OK that is it.  That is my communication after being butchered by upstairs and everything knowing my account/computer is being hacked is doing to me, turned into a bucket of unmentionable stuff and screaming.

Enjoy!

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.

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.

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’.

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.

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.

Yes, there has been a major disaster in Japan, a place, for some reason, which is close to my heart, but I am too much of an ignoramus and too alone to have much to say or contribute.

But apart from that,  I know, even with what I am experiencing in my own locality, that most of what I am being exposed to is spiritual impersonation, much of it rapacious and debilitating and violent and viscerally accusing and manipulative and dishonest.  Just about everything you feel while exposed to it is a demonic imposition.  Even though I might not be able personally to possess that, I know it is true.  I’m failing to live in the knowledge, which is a bit new in it’s present formulation anyway, I don’t feel at all empowered by it, my neighbours keep yelling and banging, seeming to think somehow that might help them, or opposing me, or something (I feel differently at different times, and probably they do as well), but I still know it is true.

It is easy to know that when dealing with non-Christian sources.  When it involves Christian sources or sources which appear to believe they are Christian sources, it’s a bit more complicated.

I’ve been watching BBC World News.  That was when I realised in a way I never have before.  It is a spiritual impersonation and a form of spiritualistic, psychic phishing.  It is also a source of the most scathing and cynical accusation, based on stalking and psychological profiling dressed up as a news report.  The story is the vehicle for the persecution.  I know that is a grievous thing to say, but from what I have seen and heard I have no reason to think anything different.  I’m not saying ‘all hail the church and its organs’, even though I feel it to some degree when I write something like this.  I know that what I am saying is the truth and I don’t know what to do with it.  I know this sounds awful for a Christian to say, but my neighbours are spiritually leeching on me to such an extent communication isn’t something I can cope with very well.  When I am trying to write something like this, that I need to have believed and accepted and not separated from the essence of who I am, the interjections I get from my neighbours leave me feeling terrified and hysterically desperate, it is like spiritual theft and murder.

I know this sounds horrible, but the way the woman keeps yelling – .  OK, for one thing, God knows it is spiritual impersonation.  But she is like a begging leech, combining it at periods, like just now, right just now, with violent banging on my ceiling, and when I am not doing my best not to cry hysterically, begging them because I am taken in by the impersonation, she reminds me of the little core creatures that chased the people at the end of the sequel to Stepford Wives, desperately grasping and grabbing on to the people who were fleeing for freedom.

I think she impersonates a child as well.  I think it is a form of demonic accusation.  The Lord knows I know this, whatever they make me feel.

I think she is really insane.  I feel like I’m being clung to by a really unclean thing.  I don’t think I have ever felt anything quite like it.

Different streams first.  I’m downloading the programme. 

I wanted to hear what was happening really early on and tried to break in the middle of an advert or song, so I tuned into the live stream for a second.  I heard a woman speaking, it sounded like Lizzie Crowe.  The downloaded stream is different and the woman’s voice isn’t there.  On the downloaded stream John says Lizzie is having a day off because she works on Saturday.

I’m wondering how long this has been happening and how many other stations do the same thing.  Maybe that is why I don’t get many detailed responses to what I write, because the downloaded stream is different from what you get when you tune in and I sound either as if I am lying or am hallucinating. 

I tried to upload an mp3 the other day.  I got a message saying that kind of file is restricted for security reasons.  I have the space upgrade and it is one of the allowed file types.  I think for all of these people the industry, or their place in it, might be more important than the truth.  I think if I tried to tell anyone, including Saints Tommy Boyd and Michael Mish, they would pretend they didn’t know what I was talking about.  I left some comments on Michael’s youtube account (mmish2) on the video ‘monkey forest’ which I thought were obviously from me (we corresponded for a year and spoke on the phone a few times, and I felt he was the person who both restored my sanity and ability to stand up for myself, and who kept me sane.  I felt he was a really good and beautiful and wise and sensitive friend.  I still do), but he sent a note asking if he knew me from somewhere and has blocked me.  They would blank me and treat me like an idiot.  They have done it before, many people do.  Tommy emerges with a post when he wants to comment on one of mine and make an impression, if he is the writer.  Last night the comments were still there on Michael’s account.  He might remove them now.  He might change his account name.  I hope he doesn’t, and if he loves me I hope he forgives me and re-establishes the relationship he said was over.  Premier, at least for one, appears to be dealing in deception of a kind I wouldn’t have thought anyone would and didn’t know anyone did, and definitely not Christians.  

I have no friends.  It is an illusion, and I know now how abusive it has been, and how murderous.  I have people I love, but they are not friends.  They aren’t even brave or honest and are possibly illegal though they posture as respectable.  John Pantry is nasty and needling, as well as criminal, and so are the people who hit me with flurries of computer and application crashes at significant times, like now.  I’m now recording both streams.  They know I’m into the performing arts and are trying to pass it off and make me value it as a creative response to a crisis, or at least make me believe that other people will value it on those terms.  I believe that is another particularly devious and abusive aspect of their deception.  The men were laughing and jeering.  My recorder crashed or was crashed and I have lost my live stream recording, and I got confused and also wiped my download.  John is savage.  He tracks what I’m writing as I write it and talks with jeering, exalted ‘serves you right tones’ when something I am doing goes wrong.

They are into impersonation as much as the secularists and impersonate mental health and police authorities and adopt how dare you tones, look at what you’ve done tones.  Because of what they have already done to me and allowed to be done to me, maybe, and in some cases definitely, even instructed people to do to me, I feel hysterical and as if they are grabbing and attacking me physically, from a distance, one that allows them to mock and make me believe they are getting away with it and that no one cares or will hold them to account, because that is what has been involved in my ‘management’ and ‘treatment’ so far, for over a decade, while the mental health authorities have been involved and utilised.

They are trying to make me believe no one will believe me or care or think it is significant even if they do.  They are trying to make sure that even if they have to pay for what they have done and are doing, I myself will remain damaged in my mind and emotions for the rest of my life for opposing them, God’s anointed.  That is what this kind of leader from their kinds of churches do and major on, it is how they teach.  I’ve spent most of my life, about 40 years, exposed to this, closely and with very few breaks.  It is vicious, malicious, cruel and deceitful.  It is actually murderous.  They know I understand the word ‘fantastic’ and am into etymology, and they are teasing me with it in its literal sense, that it is beyond belief.  It is spiritual molestation equivalent in tone to a verbal guided fantasy of sexual molestation, and they are dangling in front of me the teaching I have most deeply and readily embraced and basically saying ‘hurt us and you lose this’.  I’m talking about their teaching, but I hear my own, very strong, sexually referential undertones just as obviously as everyone else will, and they have blocked and accused me at that level for years.

At the beginning John prayed a prayer about the trust of children (I wrote this paragraph first, I now realise how deep and monstrous is their betrayal and abuse of trust).  But little children don’t trust.  They don’t have that awareness when they are first born.  When they do come to awareness, they often still don’t trust.  They just take things for granted as they are.  You could say an abused child trusts, but they don’t really, they just don’t know anything different.  I was an abused child, and frightened and miserable, but I didn’t know it could be different.  Even if I experienced short periods of difference with other families, I didn’t know it could be different for me.

I think trust is often in spite of and is more an adult thing.

These people will pay for every life they sabotage.  I pray God will hurt them for what they have done and are doing, as criminals, especially those who hold office and responsibility, always should be hurt and have to pay for what they have done to their victims.  They say I can be free and healed.  I believe that.  But they have no right, as abusers and criminals, to offer me that.  That is abusive and torturous in itself.  I want them to suffer the consequences the law says they should.

I started to pray when I couldn’t bear what I was listening to anymore.  At that point John said ‘put that sherry down, it’s too early’.  I took it as aimed at me, and was frightened and upset.  It was aimed at someone, and was symbolic in use.  They don’t talk straight and accountably.  Most of their audience is a victim of deception, and some of us helpless victims of their assumed stupidity and abuse because the other part of their audience wouldn’t believe that of them.  They help the violent and abusive against me.  Psychologically they help people to extort from me, their own violent members into whose hands I have fallen or been deliberately delivered.  I’m fed up of wide boy pastors and people coming on clean cut while they criminally work me over and take everything they can.

What An Idiot!

Written Saturday, 26th February.

“You idiot, what a stupid thing to do!”

Isn’t that much more human and kind and accessible and friendly than finding something offensive and constructing an argument about it to demonstrate that it is offensive and being dogmatic about its motivation?  At least in normal circumstances.  Even then, maybe we need to broaden our understanding of all the things that should carry the label, “normal”.

I just looked at someone I was offended with earlier, and while I believe I understand what they are doing and that it is offensive and I can make all the arguments as to why and how, I just thought, “honestly, what an idiot, what a stupid thing to do”, and the lack of a thesis or essay about it made it far less charged.

I thought about it for a few minutes afterwards.  I decided that, sometimes, being a Christian and therefore not free to call someone stupid or an idiot, in good conscience, can make you far less human and sympathetic in the way you approach people when they are idiots and do stupid things.

Then I thought again.  Where did this restriction come from, the idea that you can’t call someone an idiot?  Is it Christian?  While it is true that Jesus said if you call your brother a fool you will be in danger of hell fire, the Old Testament talks a lot about fools, especially in the Book of Proverbs, and there is a parable about the man who built bigger barns to store his grain and congratulated himself about having plenty stored up, that God said to him, “you fool, this night your soul will be required of you”.  Whatever we might think of that concept of God, even though the Bible says it was Jesus who told the story, perhaps the fact that it is in the Bible should indicate that Bible believing, evangelical Christians, if we don’t already do so, should hold a more liberal view about just calling people stupid when it might be more appropriate and productive than having to construct an argument.  Because some behaviour obviously is stupid, and sometimes the best way to deal with it, in the right kind of relationship where the person can accept and respond to it, is just to say so.

So I’m not sure how I got the idea that you can’t just tell someone they are being an idiot and their behaviour is stupid, in an affectionate, good natured way, and they could just exhale in relief and maybe slightly embarrassed recognition and change it.  maybe someone was censorious with me at some point for doing that, or maybe someone whose opinion I value would be against it.  If so, me, what an idiot, what a stupid thing to do, to take that on board, maybe, and the person who influenced me could well be an idiot, at least over that, also.  Having to construct arguments and theses all the time doesn’t half kill the flow of fondness in relationships, and all the positive change that comes out of that.

It’s just a thought, for normal circumstances.

I think this is a stupid post written by an idiot.

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.

Hounds

Bloodhounds, newshounds, bassett hounds . . . can’t think of anymore at the moment.

Newshounds.  A term of affection and pride, I thought.  But a hound is a dog.  You can’t call people dogs.  You’ll get your face slapped.

However . . . actors use props.  Sometimes hidden like lucky charms.  I sometimes wonder where exactly the knife is hidden or who might be holding it and brandishing it in the background.  Yes, I do mean a real knife.  Brandished in real maniacal anger and hatred.  I’m really fed up of hearing these throat-rasping, savage, mocking idiots.

Even yesterday,  listening to BBC Radio London, I felt convinced, in fact it seemed obvious, that our media is in the hands of some sort of mafia organisation.  I suppose I should feel sorry for the people who go into it blindly.  For some of them, little more than children themselves, the things they do are so awful, I could almost feel they must be under some kind of threat.  Maybe blackmail or something, I don’t know.  Or maybe they are just that savage and ambitious.

I watched ‘Let’s Dance For Comic Relief’ just now, which was broadcast last Saturday evening on BBC1.  I’m afraid I don’t have the stomach to talk about it.  I watched it to see Ed Byrne, I think he’s great, really nice.  Or maybe I just have a teenagerish crush on him.

All these people playing the northern dominatrix, you know, they’re not really northerners or, if they are, they are deliberately portraying an offensive and demeaning caricature.  And look at Katie Price.  And JLS.  And everyone who acts the part of the airhead brigade.  It’s a complete betrayal.  Watch all these so-called ‘airheads’, wherever they pop up – football included.  These are hard-headed business people handling millions and billions.  There is no way they are like that.  Sometimes you see the truth break through, if you care to watch closely enough.  So why are they feeding us a constant diet of such trash?  There is no gift involved in this, no talent, just a complete, bullying deception which sometimes appears cute and funny but in reality, for the truly vulnerable and desperate, which I am trying to move away from being, it is anything but.  When I was a kid people used to say the devil looks after his own and talk about honour among thieves.  Both of those sayings are true, but only to a point.  These people know that.  And many of them have each other over a barrel, and some of us as well, if not all of us.  I’ve had enough of seeing my money go to support such people.

PS  What’s the name of that place?  Flossimouth?  I think so.  Listen to them.

I heard them say a few months ago that they had to maintain the moral high ground.  I suppose that is where the combination of dominatrix and honeymouth comes in.  They only sound harsh when they want you to hear them swearing at you or calling you a name.  And listen to the way they say ‘country’, the sexual intonation of it, and the way they talk about the toss.  That’s partly what I meant about BBC Radio london – it’s more like being in the Playboy club (where I have never been) than listening to something legitimate.  The  people on BBC World news are the same, including the  Asian woman who is doing the sports now, 7.49 am UK time.  She’s now talking strictly about throwing people out if they are responsible for anymore crowd trouble.  Forget, forget.  Sit ins sounding like the person they are sitting in for (Robert Elm’s sit in yesterday.  I was sure it was him pretending to be someone else).  Something bad is happening here.  Someone please help me and stop them, I can’t take it anymore.  They are demonic, and deliberately so.  And someone crashes my computer when I really begin to run with something.  I obviously know too much.  That’s good.  I’ve got the big dogs worried.  That is really exceelent news and very flattering.  I hope they come to know the Lord Jesus.  They are openly, for those who know, playing with a mix of lies and occultism.  I can feel its effect all the time.

On the news they have basically built themselves a new age grotto.  All the vibrant gem colours, the crystal balls (literally) for the weather, and watch the shoulder drops.  They started doing that after I watched a video of Michael Mish’s, with a young girl, in her teens, if that, doing the same thing.  I think they are using other coding as well.  the man John, that Nana was just talking to, was talking about Tripoli and it sounded as if he was using it for trickery.  And they are being as provocative as possible.  They are being sexually invasive with a mixture of words and tone and imediately following it up with a harsh and violent and contemptuous sounding bit of speech.  It’s so provocative, I feel as if I have two options.  I can speak the violence they deliberately try to provoke me into speaking, or they can just keep sticking their violent knives into my mind and I feel as if I can’t think or speak at all.  They delieberately make you angry, then they mock you with it.  mocking people they have already destroyed.  These are violent and real savages.  I have every sympathy with the leaders who are currentlysaying that the media are making their people drunk and that it is the BBC’s fault.  nana, before going to someone called Chris, just said ‘let’s git’, as in the constant reference to schizophrenia, and they keep saying, deliberately, on the news programmes, things in the same tone as the dominatrix figures in Strictly Come Dancing and The Weakest Link, and at the same time staring like an innocent doe into the camera.  Take these people down, God, get them off our screens.  They are raging bulls and bloodthirsty wolves.  Even if they have the ability to make me doubt my own perception of that.

Dear Nana and co, the ‘Our World’ and ‘our website’, which you want us to think is yours, the BBC’s, it is ours, and you are abusing it and us.  It’s ours.  One way or another, we pay you.  We don’t pay you to abuse us and perpetrate lies and abuse in our name.  You have access to it by our grace, not the other way round.

The weather girl just talked about unsettled weather as if she was a psychiatric nurse.  It isn’t just my mind.  it is my belief that the economy doesn’t suffer because of the weather, but because of the way the people who report it use it to attach negative messages to it.  If people don’t shop because of the weather, it’s because of the way they instruct us to think about it.  And it’s deliberate.  Go get ’em, kids.  They are openly and unashamedly gloating in their power.  Not just the weather reporters.  While I write, they adopt that tone.  and the person who comes on next switches to wrong foot you.  And it is my honest belief that these purer than pure looking and sounding bastards and bitches deliberately use innocent sounding replacements for swearing they either want us to hear or that they want to say but their job doesn’t allow them.  They are poisonous, and keith Green was right.  They would kill me if they could, and one day they might.  They have already gone quite close in what they have done to me over at least the last 15 years.  And believe me, I’d like to do the same to them.  I’d like to break them bone from bone.  Their false innocence is the most hateful defiance imaginable.  So go ahead, punks, if you want to arrest me and drug me for daring to say so, do so.

I don’t know why I watch it.  It’s an abusive construct.  It’s a complete con.  She just talked about Irish going bad then said bankers to sound like wankers.  I know what I’m talking about and so do some of my readers, I don’t need to be specific.  But Colin Dye’s wife is irish, whatever that has to do with it.  She also just affected, whether it was real or not, as if she was instructing someone to take me out.  It’s punitive.  They always do this.  It’s obviously to make me regret that I ever started writing, and to keep violently provoking me into needing to say something else when I want to stop, as long as I’m watching it and logging it.  These are our equivalent of Victorian ladies and gentlemen who used to visit asylums and laugh at the inmates, but they try to kid us that these days we are kinder and more humane.  Look at them.. hey are like nasty animals, control, control, control, and kill.  They are all doing it and they all know and they are doing it on purpose, and they are doing it to cover criminality and to deceive.  Listen to all the tongue, lashings.  It is criminal insolence.  I might be sick, but it is the criminals taunting and provoking that need taking out, not me.  They know it.  their tears are the tears of desperate guilt, and I am pitiless.  Then they eyeball the camera as if to engage you, then whip their eyes away.  That little cunt doing the news is a nasty little slut.  i think she knows she looks like Chrysta.  Savage little dominatrix.  They are deliberately inciting to violence and hatred, by all their behaviour.  it’s as if they are saying, ‘we’ve won, you’re finished, what are you going to do about it?’  In terms of child bearing, I am finished, and they are cruel.  The church always taught me that witches feel and hate prayer.  I know and can see and hear that this is obviously true.  Liars, liars, liars and criminals, violent, hateful, degraded and degrading criminals.  They are making me desperately hysterical.  That’s exactly what they want.  If they say anything else, it’s a lie.

They are only acting all sweetness and light.  Their kingdom is coming down, both personally and corporately.  I would like to see their masks torn off completely with the dead men’s bones behind them, before they drag me out anywhere and tear me to pieces with their guile.  God, let it happen, and let it happen quickly.  They keep taunting me with the possible loss of my freedom.  I can’t bear it.  These dogs have no right to this.  They never have had and never will have.  Nana is doing her ‘look at me, I’m a lovely, reasonable person’ act, to fool whoever she can, and to enable whoever she needs to, and disable others, like me.  They know I want to do them violence.  That’s what they aim for, that is their goal.  There is no better way to silence someone like me than to make them feel things they are frightened of because of the possible consequences of expressing them.  On Radio London yesterday they were talking about debt counselling, on the Danny Baker show, i think, or the one after it.  one of the guest said that people with mental health problems should never be forced to do anything.  Someone in the studio banged down loudly on a desk.  I believed it was to try to suppress the statement, because they have been pressuring me for ages and not being direct and open and legally committed in their approaches.  I believe they love it when i rant like this.  It makes me feel ashamed, insecure and humiliated.  Nana will keep beatific Miss Purity on as long as she can, but sometimes it slips.  Look into my eyes can’t you see they’re open wide, would I lie to you baby?  Well, yes, actually, otherwise you wouldn’t need the almost pantomime appearance.  I don’t want to be exposed to this crap, this act, this deception.  When I turn the news on, I want to listen to real news, not surreptitious targetting and attacks.  there’s something about purple.  They all wear pink and purple.  They are their colours of power (my browser got crashed again here).  I read an article online by Dr mercola who talked about the power of purple.  I know this fits in somewhere, but I don’t know how or where, if he gave it to them or if they stole it.  it could be either, they hack my computer.  Nana is insolent, she is facing off, look at her.  Jobbing actors and actresses, just like Norman Wsidom’s friend said on BBC London news, and the girl didn’t like it.  I like purple, I feel good in it.  Did do before they started using it, like everything else they know about me.  They play hide and seek.  They disappear at significant points.  Now you see me, now you don’t.  It’s all psychological trickery and taunting, like hanging, drawing and quartering.  Come on, Sue, open, open, open, open. Forget it,you vapid acting little darlin’, I’m done.  That is all you’re getting this morning.

3.11 pm UK time.  The man on the right of the 4 way split screen looks like Jacques Jacobs from Winning in Life and he just said swear for square, talking about Libya, and now he has gone from sounding like a munchkin on helium to a posh purr, and now he has stopped.  They make me look petty if I say anything.  I suppose the producer must have just called a break, because he said they were coming back.  It might have been scheduled or not, but you can’t believe anything they say anyway, they even alter their taps to erase the evidence. I know that from before. I’ve said that in the past as well.  I don’t think they should be forgiven for that.  Purring patronisation and indoctrination into western atheistic humanism.  They aren’t reporting, they are promoting an agenda, and most of their emails, which they mock me with when I start to write, are made up.  They love it when I scream hysterically and do everything they can to continue to sound pure in spite.

People say and do atrocious things, regularly, deliberately, knowingly, routinely, knowing they are wrong, then they do it again, because that’s what they do, but suddenly they don’t want it to have the effect that it does and they apologise, for someone’s hearing, if not for the hearing of the people they have offended.  Names and pack drill, I have the Robert Elms programme yesterday, and every day, in mind, at least on this occasion.  The cheek by jowl set up.  But it could be the rest of the media, or church, or politics.  All of those industries.  That is all they are.

The thing is, they have no intention of stopping permanently.  That is how their industry works, the most injurious, demeaning, subliminal, verbal assaults.  So sorry, but what does sorry mean?  Nothing, except that, this time, we want something and can’t afford to offend you, or someone else hearing what we are doing.  I feel sorry for him.  I think he probably means well.

I love you guys, but sorry means nothing if you don’t intend to change.  Stop what you do, as an act of policy stop it, please, or stop saying sorry when you do it and it happens not to fit what you want to achieve on that particular occasion or someone exposes it.

I hope we understand each other. Any quistions (sic), do let me know.

I’m Sue Barnett.  Now let squet (skit) the weather.

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

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

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

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

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

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

 Edit note 6.07 pm UK time:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

https://suebarnett.wordpress.com/2011/01/08/i-followed-a-search/

This is a link to a post I wrote a while ago, about something called Monarch Mind Control.  I refer you to it to help you understand the rest of this post.  Included in that post is a link to an interview on Youtube between two very high profile people in America, one of whom was a special agent in charge of a police department.

The issue of Monarch Mind Control has come up for me again after watching the House of Commons broadcast yesterday. 

I have said before that I have been accused of paedophilia, although I am not a paedophile.  Yesterday Theresa May was talking about changes and appeals processes, and even before she got up to speak I was thinking that what had gone before seemed to be adopting a popularist stance.  I noticed that Nick Clegg was close to tears, and I noticed that, as in so many times in the past, David Cameron came in focusing and shutting everything out and down as much as he was able, and when I see that I find it frightening.  That the Prime Minister needs to focus in that way, in Parliament, before his electorate.  I feel that saying this could be to my harm and embarrassment, because it occurs to me in writing that he might have my safety and welfare in mind, at least in part.

Speaking of popularism, listening to Theresa May I believed she was doing the same thing, going for a projected popularist view.  The reason I say ‘projected’ is that I believe most of us are far more human and compassionate in our approach to this issue, especially those of us who have the slightest hint of understanding of the psychology of abuse, which should be most of us.  She presented herself as speaking for all right minded people, but as far as I am concerned she was appealing to the vigilante element of society, and her approach to the subject was in line with that.  She said that the judges who insisted that the human rights and privacy of people tagged and hated in this way were paramount were out of touch with the rest of us.  I, obviously, disagree.  She also said that the final decision in the appeals process on this issue was not for the courts, but for the police who, she said, were best placed to make this decision as being in touch.  That frightened me and I started thinking in terms of a police state.  Clearly I am speaking with heavy sarcasm and irony when I say that of course the police have always been squeaky clean and whiter than white and perfect models of humanity who have never harmed anyone and never acted with prejudice and never perverted the course of justice and never set anyone up or bullied anyone or consented to their bullying.  These are obviously the best people to handle such a sensitive issue (sarcasm and irony maintained).  I believe I have an idea of how long they were holding this accusation against me before I even knew about it, and how long they stood by, in spite of my complaints of harassment, and let people get on with it. That also goes for my housing association and the mental health authorities.

The issue of Monarch Mind Control came up for me again because there was something I didn’t understand about the presentation.  Then I remembered the interview in the post I have provided the link for, where the woman being interviewed said that, as far as she knew, it went back as far as her father.

I know, I am painfully aware, that this could be complete coincidence, but the dress she was wearing was identical in style and colours to a coat my father bought me when I was little. I can’t remember how old I actually was, but he died when I was 11.  He overdosed on sleeping tablets.  I don’t know if it was his intention to die, he didn’t say in his note, and he had done the same thing before and survived.

But Theresa May’s dress was almost identical.  And she was standing there adopting an almost vigilante attitude towards sex offenders, dripping with hate, contempt and loathing, it seemed to me, and saying how devious they are (they say the same about people they call mentally ill, it is or was part of the training for mental health professionals to view mental health patients as devious), downplaying if not completely invalidating the role of the courts over this issue, saying that parliament makes the laws, not the courts (but I say the courts uphold the law and no one is exempt from the law, including parliamentarians, as we have seen, thankfully, but if they are able to invalidate the courts, and cut us off, as Europeans, from the European Court of Human Rights, which they are saying they want to do [whether or not that is just a decoy talking point without teeth to distract from more important issues we are not talking about I don’t know, it’s one of the things they’ve always managed to talk about for years], how are they going to be held accountable?).  These lovely parliamentarians, calling groups devious and inciting hatred against them, you would think they had never done a devious thing in their lives, except me thinks the lady doth protest too much.

If the coat and the dress are not a coincidence but deliberate, why? I’ve already contacted people and asked to talk and not been acknowledged, so why would they want to do something like that?  They teamed it all up, as well, with talk about mental health.  It doesn’t matter what they are trying to say, when someone has already asked for assistance they shouldn’t be using those methods.  And if it was deliberate and they have known all along, then presumably it has been handed down to them over the years, and the government or whoever it was that had this knowledge that has been used in this way stood by and watched my father, with all his personal pain and inadequacy and lack of access to this kind of mass communication tool, insist that this was happening to him and being treated as mentally ill and in the end killing himself.  My dad.  My daddy, as I called him at the time and still think of him.  11 years old.  A younger brother and sister as well.  Whatever kind of person he was, it was wrong for something like this to be done to him and to me and to our family.  It is just as wrong for it to continue.  That is what I believe.  The one question I am afraid of is, ‘am I right?’  Am I right to believe this is wrong?  It might be good, kind governmental wisdom, and it might be better for me to go with it.  That is how I feel.

They were laughing a lot yesterday, which seemed to me completely inappropriate when handling such a serious and painful issue, but which also made me feel as if the arms of love and acceptance were being opened and offered to me, and a place of refuge, safety and protection and reconciliation.

I’m vulnerable to this kind of approach, at this particular point, because I had a bad experience in hospital last week when I was taken ill with severe stress related symptoms.  I was later contacted by the British Embassy and asked to confirm that I was OK, and I recounted the experience and everything involved in the stress that brought it on and asked for a reply, but I didn’t get one.  That was on Friday.  I want to say the Consul’s name, but people talk about discretion, and say if you are indiscrete and other people involved with you know that, they will not trust you.  I don’t know if, in my situation, discretion should be demanded of me or not.  What about me and my ability to trust?  But I don’t think officials should be subjected to vigilantism any more than anyone else should.  But this has gone so far, and I can’t afford legal representation, but I’m afraid if I mention his name on this forum anyway it might disqualify me for future help, either from the embassy’s own complaints procedure or from the law.  I don’t know what to do, because they themselves are acting illegally, it seems to me, and certainly if I don’t say his name the opportunity to move in on me again might be used.  It’s not a personal thing, I like him, at least to some extent, it’s about my own security in this situation.  I don’t know how to protect myself other than by naming him, but if I do that also might go against me, maybe even more long term.  I don’t know how it works.

On Monday (St Valentine’s Day) my housing association contacted me.  My housing association has often decided not to answer my emails and to set things in motion without consulting with me to have me apprehended under the mental health act.  The people who turn up unannounced often look appalled and apprehensive about me, and also are often very aggressive and insistent in their approach, and have even been violent and scathing, without me even knowing the specifics of why they are there.  So I replied to this person, my housing officer, Andy Minett at Hexagon Housing Association in Sydenham, made my position clear, reminded him of how he had handled things in the past and had often seen fit not to answer my emails but to go behind my back and over my head and not help effectively with community bullying and harassment, and I asked him not to resort to force or coersion but to inform me of his intentions because I believe I have a legal right to be informed.  I aksed him to clarify a few things, and as yet neither he nor anyone else from the housing association has contacted me.  Also, while I think of it, I have copied my emails on to the mental health team at Speedwell in Deptford, and they also do not acknowledge my emails, and I am afraid they are standing by and trying to force a crisis.  I asked for a response to one of them, through my CPN, from my psychiatrist, and although the CPN, Susan Farmer, said she had passed the email on to him, I have never received a response.

In this situation, and with these two most recent emails unacknowledged, on Tuesday evening someone rang my doorbell from downstairs and said what sounded like an Italianisation of my name.  I immediately thought it was the police and I was frightened, and I told him I spoke English and didn’t understand him, which was over all the truth, although not the issue for me at the time.  He said ‘OK’, and went, and I haven’t heard anything since.  But I was frightened and still am.  He came unannounced and unexpected, I didn’t know who had sent him or why, and I don’t think it should have happened that way.  I think that is really wrong. I’m afraid they might come back with instructions to arrest me under the mental health act.  But whose unprofessionalism and negligence is creating my fear and stress in the first place?  I think I could and can say ‘whose secrecy?’ and not be wrong in this case.

I’m tired now.  I might add more later, but right now if there was somewhere else I intended to go with this or something else I intended to say, I can’t remember.

Intermediate edit note: I’m recording Premier, and at the beginning John Pantry played a song called ‘Everything Was Done So You Would Come’, and he back announced it with tears in his voice.  He then moved on immediately to pray a prayer which sounded to me, in this context, as if he was instructing decision makers on how to pray and how to feel and how to view what they have done.  I obviously might be wrong, but it isn’t my opinion that I am, and if I am right I still think they are wrong to be doing this.  I still maintain it is stalking.  And I still maintain it is deceiving most of their audience.

The Thinker

Me.  Sorry about that.  It’s only me, not the famous statue!  More of my boring drivel, I’m afraid.

I think . . . Esther Hyam on Premier (not sure of spelling) is mimicking Christine who held me as I cried when Loxley told me I was no longer welcome at church.

I think . . . Gypsy William Lee at Kensington Temple, dropping his aitches everywhere and saying ‘rejoice in your ‘art’ was giving instructions to Christian artists and media people everywhere, including those leading worship (why don’t they mention William Lee anymore?  At a significant point all their boasting about him going on and on and on every day and the revival going on and on . . . just stopped.  I don’t remember an explanation).

I think . . . When the solicitor Rachel Gawith (who has a criminal conviction in Bulgaria on her own admission on her website and an awful attitude to Bulgarian authorities and the legal system – check out the travel bug and the rental bug websites) and her friends dealt so badly and illegally with me (they didn’t even give me a contract or offer one when I asked) and threatened me with Bulgarian police intimidation saying they were not nice and blackmailed me with the information they had been pushing me for and, in  spite of my explanation of the situation and me telling her that I had already been to the police about it who had done nothing (and still have not after much pursuit through an IPCC complaint from me) she told me she was going to report me to the British police because I was obviously in serious trouble with them – all this went through emails and Skype and I am sure everyone I believe is stalking me knows all about this . . . I think that when, at that time, someone in church or on Premier Radio prayed that God would protect Rachel, they intended that she should be at least one of the people that came to mind for me.

I think . . . that when someone submitted a prayer request to Premier breakfast this morning about someone who needed to make a move in the next day or two, John, from the way he kept coughing and clearing his throat, had me in mind about this situation because I think you have a year to start dealing with something like this before it is too late legally, and they ejected me from the house on 18th/19th Jaunary last year.

I think . . . their stalking has served to deprive me of any feeling that I could cope with trying to seek justice and that they never intended that I should feel able to without them.

When I first heard someone say on Premier this morning that someone was being subjected to a ‘savage spiritual attack’ I felt that was what they have been doing to me.

I think . . . I am now never going to be able to recover from anything that has happened to me this year, and they won’t care.  They wanted to make me dependent on them so aimed at knocking out any feeling that it might be possible to seek legal help successfully. I might be wrong.

I think . . . John Pantry is deliberately using my style when he speaks prayer words for his emailers.

I think . . . people have been deliberately purring at me in my personality then purring things like ‘if you have a roof over your head, be grateful’, making me feel I should be grateful for a place where I am subjected to such serious harassment day after day that I can’t cope with anything.

I think . . . that yesterday Colin Dye in the 11 am service after the 9 am which they chose not to stream yesterday, obviously used his little story about the lonely female amoeba to talk about me.  Check it out at http://www.KT.org/media.  It wil be up there soon if it isn’t now.

I think . . . this kind of communication is not aimed at me to try and win me, but aimed at people he wants to despise me.  I think this kind of thing and the violence they use in their communication, both obvious and not so obvious, are designed to help them keep control and keep the power flowing.  When it is happening, and they are using things about me as access points, I look back and see it was at about that time that I began to feel a need to vent myself.  I think, having experienced this, that this might be exactly the kind of thing that Susan Boyle, a composite personality of me and my next door neighbour, might have been experiencing in all the things I have seen being reported about her meltdowns.  I’ve said this kind of thing before to my mental health team and I can only assume that, if they have any kind of education about anything, the reason they refused to understand what I was saying was because they just didn’t want to know or to acknowledge everything else they have known and understood for years.

I think . . . Premier has abandoned its remit to the church in favour of courting other celebrities and personalities who are not even Christian.  In their dishonesty and criminality and pretence they have lost the plot and are betraying their listeners and also the non-Christian celebrities they promote and pursue.  (Erm . . . is this supposed to be a reflection of me, or what?)

I think . . . they get into their Dagenham style performance character and you are never supposed to see them out of character.  Esther began to slip this morning, and John helped her back into character by addressing her with a character-appropriate name.  He was ostensibly talking to someone else, but the time and the tone and Esther’s immediate recovery of her performance character led me to believe there was more to it than that.  (this is supposed to be ministry, not theatre and performance?  they are presenting as . . . I don’t know what they are presenting as, but I think the uninformed listener, viewer and participant is supposed to believe it is not a performance, and that is a lie).

I wish . . . I had never got involved with any of this.

I hope . . . I still can.

I believe and hope and think that I know . . . that is crazy thinking.  Its about arts and media.  It’s an arts and media coterie fight for them.  Authenticity and truth and personal trustworthiness and true spirituality come after that and might somehow be things they manage to affect and pull off. 

(I think . . . these churches and this radio station stopped being a spiritual ministry ages ago, going instead for theatrical representations and namedropping, as they did this morning.  I heard them agree with each other to do that a few years ago.)  How did this paragraph get here and where did it start off?

I think . . . that will do for now.

They work me over so much that I can’t handle the things in my life that I need to handle.  I’m sorry, but they are complete bastards, and that includes Tommy Boyd.

I just listened to Robert Elms on BBC Radio London.  For some reason I got it in my head that I liked him, because I used to read his column in one of the free secretarial handouts on the underground – 9 to 5, or Ms London, or something. He looks nice, doesn’t he?  I really need to learn and become fully convinced, that that is just a selling image, his public image, his persona.

I heard it suggested recently, anout a month or two ago, that John Pantry was giving them training on how to handle things in the studio, psychic/spiritual manifestations, whatever you want to call them, and personal feelings, perhaps.  They are just working a formula and being as personally provocative as they can be.  Seductive lure, provocation, intimidation and monstrous, targeted disrespect combined.

Tommy has a post up on his blog, mrtommyboyd.wordpress.com (link at the bottom of my page), called ‘who killed Jo Yeates?…’ in which he states he has known 3 people who were murdered.  I can’t take it anymore, I’ve got to go public.

I read it, and understood that exactly the same things had happened to him as are now happening to me, except that his were, as I said to him in my reply to his post which I never expected to be used because he never posts my replies, direct hits while mine were only hits by psychological and mental association, albeit a constant stream of them.  He never posts my replies or acknowledges them directly in any way.  He is either afraid or cruel.

Straight after Robert Elms a news reader came on, doing her best ‘I’m not bovvered’, chavvy estuary act.  That is how Tommy’s wife Jayne spoke to me when I went to their house once.  The first time I went they both told me I was very brave, and I sat in one of their cars with Tommy for about half an hour.  Looking back, he seemed fairly desperate for a response, he asked me if the answer was yes or no, and I said no because he touched my knee with his and I thought it was sexual.  I felt comfortable with him on the drive back to the train station, so comfortable I didn’t even need to break the silence except to ask a couple of questions that occured to me.

People will try to make me think, as i do, that this is wrong, but if I generalise they will just ignore it.  They might ignore this as well.  You can safely do that with someone who is labelled as mentally ill.  If in their own outraged state they lose control of their emotions and feelings because of the policy to ignore and refuse to engage with all legally recognised forms of communication, they will get put back in a mental hospital.

As far as Tommy is concerned, I am hurting myself here, and it might be irretrievable. Shortly after the time his wife did her estuary accent on me, telling me I had 15 minutes to leave the property or she would call the police, but when I gave up after 10 minutes because I didn’t want the confrontation the police were already coming to the property as I walked away, so she had probably already called them before she spoke to me (to me that is lying and deeply offensive, especially when you know someone has a mental health diagnosis.  Lying should be illegal, it is a contemptuous act of violence towards vulnerable people), Tommy came on his programme saying that ‘Estuary is the way forward’.  Either people picked it up and ran with it to hurt him or something, or he was deliberately giving instructions as to how to best get under my skin.  The weather forecasts seem to have been shaped in the same way as well, human traits and emotions being attributed to the weather, and it seems to be a way of making the weather the bearer of the speaker’s own feelings.

The last Doctor Who I watched, Doctor Who looked and acted a lot like Tommy and he is, as he used to say, ‘all over the place’, and the girl looked a lot like Allison Ferns, who used to co-host a radio programme with him.  But they were also using me a lot, the massive crack in my bedroom wall in Bulgaria, the layout of my street in London, and other things.

So today, having been totally offended by listening to the way Robert Elms was working things, I then had to have my senses offended by – let’s call her a woman – who came on talking heavy Estuary, as they all do, are they acting or is it the employers’ policy to choose only women who speak that way? – and she read the news, and here I am isolated, on my own, no family or flatmates, people above me tapping every morning so suffering from the psychological violence of that, having this offensive accent coming at me because of all its associations for me that I have written about above, so that in itself is also an act of grossly indecent psychological violence, and I might want to lose it.  I might want to start screaming and shouting in anger and outrage and desperation, at which point they slip in a news article about landlords being given powers to deal with ‘neighbours from hell’.

These people, these broadcasters, they are the people from hell.  They are criminals.  Some of the police are also criminals, before they descend on me.  They don’t care, they are debased and debasing animals. 

I wrote something in one of my posts that, just because I might even make a gesture under extreme provocation and when everything else has been ignored, it doesn’t make me dangerous.  Something was registering on my dashboard yesterday as a search that had brought someone to my blog, the search terms were ‘under extreme provocation, everything is dangerous’.  I was going to write something but decided not to, but instead to do my own search which was ‘Nothing is dangerous under extreme provocation except the person doing the provoking’.  This is particularly true when they are also calling that person crazy or letting the system call them crazy.  A person can only take so much.  They know this and they use it.  That is evil.  That is disgusting and that is evil.  The person can hit back and be legally penalised, or they can be ritually subjected to this harassment and humiliation over and over until they think they need to conform and see sense, or commit suicide.  If they committed suicide, all of these people would be glad about it.  The church would say that’s what happens when people are rebellious and that the suicide itself is the final act of rebellion.  I don’t care what they say in public these days, the fact they are doing what they are doing to me says they really don’t care at all.

At the time that it appeared to me that people in the secular news were getting help (they mentioned something to that effect) Premier themselves, John Pantry or someone on his programme, said John was or had been away because he was training other broadcasters.  This was either true or, in the circumstances, a very sick and vile joke.  I can’t access the words I need because I have swallowed so much false sweetness from these people.

They are arguing with each other using stuff about me.  They are using different language to make observations about me, I think.  Like this morning someone said that the toilet was 3 floors down.  I answered a competition run by Cindy Kent at the beginning of their broadcasting, and the phone box was 3 floors down.  It also didin’t ring when someone called.  So I had to wait and hear the area before I ran down to check the phone, the stairs weren’t lit, the light bulbs had gone, and Cindy said, ‘well, if we have to wait, you can wait’.  I knew she knew who I was.  I knew she had got something from churches I had been involved with.

I am really angry.  I have to listen to this.  This stuff the hospital says doesn’t happen.  I have to listen to them doing stuff on me, covertly, or using language and intonation that makes me hear it that way, and listen to the presenters being under pressure when dealing with some of the things caller say, whether the callers are straight or not.  I think sometimes they are, but it sounds as if sometimes they are not.  I have to listen to the war of words and the war of adverts, all the time feeling as if I am being held hostage by the whole charade.  They shouldn’t be using a media platform like this, any of them.  If a church media platform believes it needs to do something like this and grab at me until I feel hysterical and go out with a verbal gunshot, what is wrong with them that they can’t deal with things in the prescribed, legal way?  They are abusing their platform and abusing their listeners, some of us far more than others, some of us conscious of it and others not.  It’s torture.  It’s illegal.  Every time I switch on I see and hear them using my identity, and have a war theatre constantly thrown in my face.

Everybody knows.  Every one of you scummy fuckers that’s involved, you know!  You pipe and peep and roar and snipe and won’t talk to me directly, and you know why I don’t talk to you, because you would manipulate me into validating what you are doing, and it’s wrong.  Goddamnit, you all damn well know!!!  You know what you are doing and what others are doing.  Why don’t you do something???  Why don’t you commit yourselves legally?  Every politician I’ve ever mentioned, every church leader, every broadcaster, every organisation.  Do you know what?  You stink!  And so do I, but it’s your diarrhoea that’s been thrown at me.  You are horrible, hateful cowards hiding your atrocities behind a call to reason and compromise.  You are hateful.  You couldn’t do any of this otherwise, and you couldn’t let it be done.  Every one of you, you are calling on me to change or respond before you stop your illegalities and blind eye turning.

If there is a God (you would turn my certainty against me), you people need dealing with.  I know what you are doing to me, and on that basis I can safely say that you must have a fair few suicides on your consciences, if conscience is a term you have any time for.  I can’t speak to anyone, you work me over so much.  And you put it into my community so that, wherever I go, people are near rioting outside where I live.  That is without anything from me to provoke it.  David Cameron, stuff your doe eyes at your kids and your head held high walks while you look as if you want to crumble and do a runner. Fuck it, fuck it all.  Fucking do what you’re fucking paid for and fucking help me, you fucking rich, toffeenosed prat!!!  Stop cavorting in chambers with what you get off my fucking blog, either trying to seduce me out of hiding or just get away with what you are doing.  You might think you have better things to do, but I don’t.  You are using my own words to communicate with each other, if not with me.  That, in itself, means you owe me.  Because you know.  Because you are one of the people doing it.  Reference my No, No, No post and your use of it the very next time you were in chambers, as Mr Speaker likes to put it 5 minutes before you come on every Wednesday.  I should not have to appeal to you.  No one should expect me to, even if I myself don’t like the stance that I have taken.  I believe what you are doing to me must be criminal.  While you do nothing except try and look in control, you are at least an accessory to the crime.  Until you make proper contact with me you will continue to be that.  All of you involved in this are colluding to commit a massive, international crime against one person.

The Illuminati also has psychics among its members.  I’ve been thinking that might be responsible for the computer and browser shutdowns every time I strike a clear direction.  Like just now, as well.  But that was more obvious in my writing.  It could be Christians as well though.  Dave Rose commented on the content of an email I was writing to my vicar’s bishop before I had even sent it, and either he or Rick Easter passed judgment on an email I sent to Michael Mish, also before I sent it.  I told him I thought he should set up a community or something like that, and he said he had been thinking of it.  I was listening to a recording of Cindy kent at the time, and she mentioned something about setting up a community.  But I had intended to say that to Michael anyway, at least half an hour before I heard her say it.  I was not sure whether to say it or not after that.  I decided I should, that just because someone else had mentioned what I was thinking of for someone else, it was no reason why iIshould not say it.  Dave Rose or Rick Easter, whichever one of them it was, made an accusing remark about excellence.  To me this is obvious.  It is me it is happening to.  It’s not happening to the mental health people, but they at least pretend they believe they have the right to come in and insist it isn’t happening to me either.  I’ve decided they are dishonest.  No one is as innocent and honestly implacable as they make out to be.  They must think I was born yesterday.  All the silence except for the harassment and the shock and awe broadcasts.  That’s what is doing me in.  I AM ready to crumble and give in and see sense and accept that what they have done is right.  I am absolutely convinced that what I say they are doing, if I’m right, has been absolutely the right thing to do.  I hope that someone else will see that that is the problem (I can’t even say that with conviction) and take them to task.

His name is Esteban.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What I was saying in my happy new year post.

About people saying ‘out’ on the news.

I was just watching BBC World News, a programme called ‘The Business Report’, or something like that.  5.30 pm UK time.

What happened?  Well, without going into the significance of it all, this man came on talking about the eurozone, and all of a sudden, for the first time since my post, although it is their policy to do this (it’s a distracting policy, and whoever it is aimed at, no one should have to deal with it, and everyone does) Tanya Beckett was saying ‘out’ in that almost vomiting, violent, aggressive and angry way they do, the man was in immeidately afterwards and he did a deliberate ‘camp’, Tanya Beckett said ‘back’ in the same way they say ‘out’ (they always do this too, and to me it is a body part reference (I’ve had exposure to therapy and to schools of psychology, and my college lecturer was particularly into Jung, I suggest you read some and then you might recognise more than you possibly do at the moment).  They make lots of body part references.  Sometimes they are only discernible because of the surreptitious tones and body language that accompany them.  I suppose you would have to be me to understand what I do.  At the end he went back into a camp queen face, and he shook his head from side to side in the same way that Bulgarians do for yes.

OK, now I feel like queen bitch and traitor to someone who might need anonymity in order to offer help.  That’s that one messed up, just like the others I’ve messed up.  I just find the outs and the backs and the psychological violence and aggression so offensive and outrageous and impossible to cope with I don’t care what they are trying to offer.  It’s almost like force.  Work you over then make you an offer and you’re supposed to have their hand off.  I think that’s called hardsell.  I was going to say ‘heavy salesmanship’, but realised I was mixing up my thinking with the term ‘heavy shepherding’.  That’s a different context.

So sorry guys if you are trying to help.  I’m not going to have your hand off, I’m going to say what you’re doing, because that’s what I do.  I think your assumption with the hardsell is that I and others need to be able to depend on you, rather than you depending on and trusting us.  The chase, the hardsell, the headhunting – whatever it is – the trickery, is that more like it?  I don’t know.  It’s all about you being the saviours in the starring roles.  So a person says please help, and your idea of helping is to media stalk them to gather information about them and about what is happening to them, and keep using it to call people who need to respond.  Or what?  Or you don’t help them.  Fucking stupid crap shit.  You don’t want to walk it through, walk with someone through the pain and hardship.  You just want it to be part of your media career.  Someone needs your love and friendship.  You make your stalking appear as if that is what you are offering.

I know about the media and its informative role.  Recently there was something in a trailer about ‘how do reporters feel about some of the things they have to photograph?’

While I see the necessity to inform, I was thinking a little before that, that to stand in front of people in distress with a camera, who look at the camera nonplussed as if they are looking to it for assistance, and then wondering what it’s all about, and then looking downright skeptical about your role and stance, and turning away in disgust, disappointment and confusion – back to their famine conditions, or similar extremity – to me it seems indecent.  I’m assuming if people were doing practical things to help and not just filming, they wouldn’t be getting those kinds of reactions.  It does seem, on the face of it, grossly indecent and insensitive to me.  Or a child whose face opens up in receptiveness to love and is met with something so hard that their face and their eyes close down.

I was reading in Ephesians yesterday.  I got to the part where it said that it is shameful even to speak of the things they do in secret.  I think I picked up the impression somewhere that it was talking about sexual practices,  probably from the fact that I thought about it in the context of the expression ‘in the privacy of your own home’.  But yesterday I saw it differently.

Things done in secret.  Subliminals.  It’s shameful even to speak of them.  For two reasons I can think of.

1.  They mix it so you will feel ashamed if you say anything.  A bit like these Bulgarian thugs, in fact.   And they go silent to leave you to deal with what they have done in the same way.  And when you start to think or relax or receive, they start to knock.  They feel it, and they start knocking.  These people are punitive.  They take the worst thing you have said in response to their own abuse, say it back at you in a tone approaching your own voice, and then say hallelujah, laughing and mocking, apparently.  Is this demonic mockery or is it supposed to be some sort of Christian discipline and correction here?  From men who have just been extremely invasive and abusive?  I think it’s more likely to be a way men break down women to make them obedient slaves for sex trafficking.

I want to cry to my friends for help, but my friends are my stalkers.  Oh my God!  And they stand by indifferent and impassive, watching it happen, letting it happen, saying ‘come’, and making the kinds of appeals which make them look pretty and attractive.  Nothing devastating for them.  Nothing harrowing and horrifying and terrifying, leaving them looking and feeling totally and irrevocably ravaged.  Just a lovely, deeply attractive and winsome, sweet and gentle grief, the sort of thing that comes from a mental understanding, if it can be called that, but nothing really experiential, and it is probably dispensed with in bed with their partners, or maybe even earlier at the dinner table, in the daily disciplines of family life or friendship, if they are observed.  They are making sport of my life and sanity.

That’s only one.  I’ve just had an outbreak of stupidity, verbal violence, banging, accusations and hallelujahs from the men in the rooms near me.  These fucking sick dogs.  God knows what they’re here for.  I wonder if they have ever physically raped a woman?  Apparently a lot of people come to this country for sex.  This is a degraded and degrading place, for all it’s natural beauty.  I asked to be moved last might to a place where I could sleep, at 1.30 in the morning, without this happening to me.  But it has got worse.  Are these mafia people?  I think they might be.  It happened to me at the Vitosha Park Hotel as well.

So here I am again, I can’t think.  Another Bulgarian stalking, computer-hacking media coup?  It happens all the time.  How many mafia people are involved in the media?  I don’t know.  The doctor’s daughter on the bus warned me they control everything.  I’m frightened now.  Now they are quiet.  What might happen in the night?  Oh God, help me!  No one is trustworthy here, and especially not police agencies.  If you want to help, get me out of here.  Now.  With proper legal commitment, and without using the mental health act.  Or they just might kill me.  I’ve been too scared today to go out and eat.  Not only of humiliation, but of possible physical violence, since they are violent in every other way, sometimes even physically as I already know.  Maybe not much different from England.  Metaphorically speaking, of course.  May God judge the politicians of my country for allowing this to happen to me, both here and at home.

Ephesians says have nothing to do with these acts of darkness, but rather expose them, and that light exposes.  And it does, if you don’t lock everyone up who shines the light.  But the Bible says that people love darkness more than light, and won’t come to it, because their deeds are evil, and they fear exposure.  Look what they did to Jeremiah.  I don’t think all the prophets got that treatment.  People did kill prophets, but I thought the culture respected their place.  Kings consulted the prophets and asked if there was any word from the LORD.  And their words were respected and things happened.  If there was a word from the LORD it happened, in judgment and healing.  Now people say ‘are you hearing voices’, and lock you up and make you take drugs, the legalised abuse, not to mention the illegal abuse.

I posted my first version of this prematurely but deliberately, because I was really afraid of what might happen to me here.  I switched on CNN when my computer crashed as I was trying to finish it, and a man in glasses fired off several obvious references to what I had said in my post, then turned a straight and rigid back and walked with it.  That’s the kind of violence I’m talking about.  And it is turned to look like caring, but they are just stealing spiritual energy, and when they get that, job done, as far as they are concerned.  No help materialises.  It’s illusory and seductive, and deliberately so on both counts.  What’s the message, ‘wait right there?’  Are they fucking joking?  Wait, and wait, and wait, for how many years now?  It’s indecent.  ‘Tis a puzzlement (The King And I).  It’s lies, it has to be lies, or why don’t they do something really constructive and life-changing for the people they are tapping?  Hmm?

Hey Cinders – answers on a postcard, please!  Oh my golly gosh lol.  Happy hearts are grateful hearts, happy hearts are grateful for everything.  We’re walking in the eternal sunshine of the spotless mind.  Everything’s sunny, we’re grateful for everything, the only thing that could possibly ever be wrong is our attitude, if we complain about things.  I think I was a target for that song, wasn’t I?  Cindy girl, Reverend Gravitas Cindy Kent?  Taunter, teaser and stalker.  Please talk about it, I’m so sure it is something people will want to know about.  Especially since you have tried to keep it hidden.  Now that IS worrying.  I think so.  Sorry, I don’t think I can get your programme here.  It’s specific to UK DAB.  At the very least, your policy was, as was many others’, ‘she has to respond to the performance or she doesn’t get it’ (the help).  Were you just stalking by reference to the things you ‘legitimately’ knew, or were you involved in the computer hacking and phone tapping as well?  Like Dave Rose (he is/was, isn’t/wasn’t he?) and others?

The violence and people’s indifference has got to me.  I wasn’t planning on any of this last stuff.  But ‘killing my darlings’ – is that responsible when your darlings have already been seen by hackers?  This guilt I feel that I don’t abandon the writing and seek the people out.  The stalkers and tormenters.  That would be validating the crime.  Validating the people who don’t want to be punished for their crime by responding to them as if their authority is legitimate.  I will be seen in a worse light for publishing than you will be because of anything I’ve written.  I’ll just be seen as a sick, raging, revengeful woman.  They think they know you and adore you.  And the timid squeak turned to something more devastating to me along the way.

Yeah, like, out with the old, and in with the new.  And I really mean that ‘out’.  Just listen how hard I say it, and how quickly I get it into my post.  I think I’m following some bad modelling, it’s what comes of watching too many news type programmes.

Actually, in this context, I don’t mean it at all.  It’s just a time to ritualise hope and good intentions, and little more than a superstitious observation. Very handy though, for some people.

I think of this in the context of what the apostle Paul said in Galatians when he said he feared for them, because they observed special days and times and seasons.  That’s my first reference point.

Then I remember that, in the Old Testament, there were laws for observing different times, if not instructions to do so.  I think it’s probably instructions, but I won’t be dogmatic, because I haven’t read it recently, that part.

Was one of them wrong and, if not, what changed in between times?  And why do we go with the old Jewish festivals instead of taking notice of Paul?

I don’t understand and, if you say you do, why should I believe you?

OK.  I started off in that way because I just read a comment on TB’s blog about sarcasm.  I didn’t want to say any of that about New Year, because right at this moment I really don’t care.  I do care, in that I am not participating in the happiness and I think I’ve just been stubborn and hurt myself.

I was thinking in the shower (as one does), though I have been registering it for a long time, that the most painful part for me of being where I am at the moment is that I think it is all my fault.  I’ve done this to myself.  No one has done it to me.  That’s what I’m thinking.  Rightly or wrongly. On the deepest level, and believing everything I have been taught about personal responsibility, whatever anyone else has done to me . . .

People hit you when you’re down, have you noticed?  That’s why I always try to close everything perfectly, because if I don’t people, including Christians, take advantage of it. They work off what they see here but never see fit to make contact. From Christians it’s worse, because they are the ones who taught me to repent when I’m wrong, and make restitution where possible.  Yet they don’t.  But they keep going for my head.  They just keep talking about it and making observations which ought to lead them to repentance, but in terms of the people they hurt and harm, how many of us do they look out and say something which would at least show willing?  I wonder if they have got as far as putting up physical barricades at their studio doors yet?  Nah, no way.  They don’t need to.  They’ve got the police moving at their beck and call.

I was going to say that these days you have to get past reception first, or was that just something they put me through but don’t do to everyone else?

I was also thinking, before what I thought in the shower, that I want to do what is right.  But also that I have tried, legally, to go by what I believe to be ‘the book’, but it is those in power and authority which have refused to respond to that on the same terms the rest of us, the uninitiated into grace and favour options, have to.  Grace and favour = come on, we’ll deal with it, we don’t have to tell everyone, it’s just our little secret, you’re good, you’re part of the answer?  Rather than dealing openly in the ways provided by the law (which might indeed be open to interpretation, but surely not that much?)  I’ve heard people say the practice of law is an art.  I thought if there are clear rules and regulations it ought to be nearer to an applied science?  People saying it’s an art and open to interpretation has pulled the rug from under my feet when it comes to having the confidence to try to move forward.

They appeal to me with such emotion it makes me feel I know I would not be harmed in any way if I went back to London, and I’m a bad person not to go.  But if that is the case (sorry, but here I go again), why can’t they make a formal commitment to that?

I feel like a cornered animal, or a felon.  Their ability to pull the mental health act on me is always held on to and continually thrown in my face.  How can I do what is right when the people I need to trust are acting in such a perverted way and a way so subversive of the proper process of law?  Is surrender on a point of law legal itself if the people who would be handling it are not acting with full legal compliance and openness and regard for human rights themselves?  In spite of the fact that they hold office and seem to be asking me to come home (or is that just the way the news makes it look?) would I be acting legally myself if I acted on the legally uncommitted emotions of those to whom, because of their office, disobedience is shameful?  I’ve gone almost as far as I can, to the point of almost exhausting the internal options open to me.  I have big reservations about the European Court of Human Rights.  I don’t know how much these people work hand in glove.  I know that not many appeals from the UK are successful, if what I heard on the news is true.  I suppose it must be.

Thinking in those terms, just this moment I’ve had a new thought: does the European Court of Human Rights ‘lose’ people’s files?  It seems to me that, in some cases, they must know well ahead of a person approaching them that that person’s human rights are being breached, and yet if they don’t move to help even before they are formally approached by the people who lack confidence anyway, including confidence in them, what kind of a body does that really make them?  How can I approach a body which I have every reason to believe has looked on for ages and not intervened?  These awful, dishonest, self-seeking, self-protecting traitors, if that is what they have done?  If that is what they do the whole system is an embarrassment to everyone, and especially to those who need it.

I’m assuming there is openness and honesty behind closed doors between the heads of state.  That’s what this meandering is based on. 

Joan Ruddock, my MP, knows.  I’ve asked her senior case worker, if not Joan directly, if I can have a copy of the correspondence which has gone between Joan and my housing association at my request, if that is permissible.  It was at that point they chose to terminate the correspondence between me and them.  That request received no acknowledgement whatsoever, nor has any email I have sent them since.  If I don’t explicitly engage them they won’t engage, and having tried to engage them on whether or not I am allowed copies of the emails between my housing association and themselves, they have refused or failed to respond.  That was about 2 months ago.  Don’t you assume enough of a sufficient working relationship between yourself and your MP to expect that if you forward any obviously distressed emails you have sent to your housing association, even without comment because they are sent in the heat of fighting for yourself, that your MP should respond?  That was what I expected.  I know they have a lot of work to do (people I approach keep telling me that), but I am part of that workload, in some cases I am part of that workload by law, yet they turn to me and say they are busy, or refuse to follow through as they should and as they promised?  And then, in the case of my housing association, they send me an email just before Christmas, having refused to answer the questions and provide the information which might make me feel more secure about going back to live in one of their properties, asking me if I have informed the Housing Benefit people that I am not living in the flat at the moment.  But thinking about it, while the housing association recognises my tenancy . . . no, maybe that’s a loophole.  Maybe I’m not entitled to keep receiving housing benefit.  But the housing association took over everything to do with my housing benefit years ago, without even consulting me.  That’s a nice one to pull out of the hat when you ask them if they have kept proper records of your tenancy and of the accusations made that landed you in hospital and of who made them.  When you say you think it might be illegal if they haven’t kept those kinds of records, being empowered to make the kinds of decisions they do about people without proper consultation.  My housing officer’s boss wrote back to me and said I had been told “numerous times” that the association now considered the matter closed and they are not prepared to talk about it.  That can’t be legal.  That’s not providing a good home, that’s presiding over a prison, an extension of the mental health system right in your ‘home’, they say they have no obligation to get involved, but they get involved, over my head and without telling me, when they want me put away.  It’s actually in my psychiatric notes that, following the accusations from the workmen, I was put in hospital so they would have space to do their work.

That’s another thing, for years I was asking for my notes and being promised them, and I seem to remember but am not sure that some of those promises were made at the prompting of a solicitor.  Repeatedly promised but never given.  All the right forms filled and submitted, no response.  How many years did it take before I got them, I can’t remember.  Maybe enough time for them to be able to try and kid me that it was ‘a long time ago’ and the matter is closed.  Presiding psychiatrist one Doctor Gallo, who on transfering me at my request to another psychiatrist described me as ‘this very difficult patient’.  Dr Gallo, ‘yes, we’ll give them to you, yes, we’ll give them to you’ and no matter how many times I asked and made fresh applications, I never got them.  Why it was suddenly so easy when I asked for them again in the middle of last year, I have no idea.  Dr Gallo, psychiatrist thug from the Ladywell Unit, Lewisham Hospital.  It’s funny, one of Colin Dye’s platform team looks just like him.

So back to what I wanted to say.  I need to make some practical decisions.  I want to move, here in Bulgaria.  But if I do, whether I rent or buy, I’m not sure, I have been given no legal assurance, that if I take something on I will be free to fulfil the contract or to make the necessary repayments.  I can’t believe they would do this, but there is a possibility that someone would want to imprison me or otherwise detain me, and I would end up defaulting on a financial commitment.  So I don’t feel free to make one.  But I also don’t feel safe to go home, given that requested information is being withheld and I am being spoken to and neglected in such ways by my housing association, the police, my MP, solicitors won’t get involved, and in spite of emails sent to the mental health team, one of them asking my present psychiatrist to respond, I have heard nothing.  Nothing, nada, zilch.  They must know what that is doing to me and I’m wondering what they are trying to do to me.  Yes, do to me.  I was going to say achieve, but that would have been just trying to avoid the appearance of what they like to call ‘paranoid ideation’.  If I’ve sent them emails and asked for a response, I should get one.  And I mean a response, not an excuse for an assessment and a decision that it is time to move in.

Coded Communication

The reason I disagree with this, from people with power and authority towards people who have been through the mental health system, is that my experience of the mental health system is that they insist it doesn’t happen, and if you say it does it is evidence of mental illness.

My experience of the people who use this form of communication is that they do so in order to be able to insist that you respond on their terms and they get involved on their own terms, otherwise they won’t even acknowledge the communication.  They will stand by and look on silently and impassively as they order you to be taken away.

Their assumed right to do this also assumes that they know everything they need to know to make a decision about a person.  Erm . . . that would make them God, then?

I’m in a dilemma over this.  I’m sure that most of them believe that what they are doing is right.  But I would like to e able to say that the reason I feel so strongly against it is that I have fallen prey of evil people who have perverted its use, but those people would not accept that description and assessment of themselves, and neither would most ‘decent, upstanding people’ accept it of them.

I do feel love, I do feel loyalty, I believe very much in obedience to authority.  I think I do, anyway.  So when I don’t respond to this, I believe it says something bad about me, and I think that is how they see it too.

Am I a person being abused, or am I just a rebel who needs to learn to respect those in authority? If I go to the people I rebel against in tears, will they heal me?  I certainly seem to be making life very hard for myself.  That is the position they take.

The problem is, for me and other survivors of the mental health system, the government validates and upholds the system which says believing we are being communicated with in this way is evidence of mental illness.

So what is the definition of mental illness? Is it, for someone like me, that I want to do what I want to do on my own terms, not on the terms of those who use their form of communication to be able to opt out of committment to a response from the person which is other than they want?  To me, it looks that way.

I thought that living in a democracy meant you could do anything you want to, within the law, on your own terms unless, discounting assault, someone with authority stops you with good reason and in an acceptable way, which, to me in a situation like this, would be with the personal commitment of being explicit about what you are saying, about who you are saying it to, and about what you want, so that everyone watching and listening, including the person themselves, knows what you have said and who you have said it to.

I feel I could just go walking up to these people, at the moment, and find myself embraced and accepted.  That makes me feel that I should drop my insistence that people in authority should not communicate with those without power and authority in code, whatever the communication.  I think they would say it is about testing the heart.  When I started writing this I was ready to maintain that it is an attempt to control a person inappropriately rather than to control a situation and recognise the person’s rights to their own terms of action and understanding. I wonder what kind of Britain it is that would be put at risk by recognising these rights and not acting against them.

I believe that no one in authority who upholds the mental health system has a right to use this form of communication with someone who knows that if there response is considered unacceptable they could well end up back in hospital.  I also wish to maintain that they have no right to take an individual out of that group and try and make them feel secure enough to leave the others behind. if they can do it for one, they can do it for all.  I believe the way to do that for this kind of situation is to make it clear that the mental health practitioners are wrong in their assertions and actions towards people who believe they are being communicated with using any kind of code.

Coded communication I am aware of and that I know others are aware of embraces things like parable, metaphor, storytelling, drama – seeds planted that go for the heart and conscience and which bypass the process of logic.  I heard on Premier Radio that it was C S Lewis who said that was the function of his stories, and Premier Radio accepted the validity and desirability of that without question.

My own life experience, and that of many others, I have to assume,  is that that is not something we have been brought up with with any awareness or security or understanding. That being the case, it is wrong to invalidate us and superimpose it on us at will.

I think that, in most situations, employing means to move the will through the heart bypassing the mind is assuming far too much power.  It assumes too much personal purity and knowledge.

I’m Sue Barnett.  I’m trying to survive the mental health system threat, and until people insisted on knowing everything about me, I was a survivor of sexual and other forms of abuse.  I was satisfied that, as a Christian, the new had come and the old had gone, and that there were some things I didn’t need to talk about.   Because other people were not, and were not prepared to say that to me or to tell me what it was they were concerned about, I have been made a victim of the mental health system and of everyone who is happy to have that fear as a form of control over me because it makes their job easier.  I have been made a victim by people in authority who have used this extreme form of force and invalidation to compensate for their own cowardice, anger and unwillingness to be open without taking control.

The truth is, however I feel, the life I could have known will now never exist.  For them, knowing that I have been a victim of sexual abuse makes them believe they need to take another look and try to restore the relationship, maybe try to help me and so expiate their guilty feelings.  Some want to work even harder to cover what they have done, and so present as believing they need to be even more insistent on the form of communication they are using which will not cover the person who responds to it in the eyes of the mental health system, if the communicators don’t find the response acceptable.  They can invest it with whatever tone or expression of love, authority, disapproval, anger, cajoling, humour, twitting, triumph, positive disengagement they want to, the form of communication is still as compromising to its recipient.

If they want me to go home, the right way to communicate that is to tell me so openly and formally, either giving reasons or saying that they can’t, and to tell me what kind of provision will be made for me if I do what they ask me and what else they want to happen and don’t want to happen, in terms of – well, not knowing whether or not they want to arrest me is one of my greatest anxieties.  Will anyone meet me at the airport and, if so, who and for what purpose?  How will I know them, and that they are who they say they are and want what they say they want?

With good reason I am afraid of force and of violence and of being taken into any kind of detention when no one has told me to expect it.  Making people live with that has to be wrong, in most cases, if not all.  They tell us that if we treat them with respect we will be respected.  Hm. A very easy equation to make, and also one which they don’t impose that often on themselves in any kind of requirement to be the first to show respect in a relationship which has broken down.

Christmas is here.  I feel as if I have deprived myself.  But I believe that other people have been watching my actions with cynicism they have attributed to me.  They seem to think I have done some hard and necessary things just because it is Christmas and I want to have a good one, so they are treating my actions and communications with cynicism and not even acknowledging them.  To me, that makes them the problem, because I don’t work that way.  I would not seek resolution of serious issues involving other people with an eye to having it out of the way by Christmas.  I recently contacted the police complaints department for an update on a complaint they have allowed to lapse for several months without communication.  That was a week ago.  In spite of the seriousness and distressing nature of what is involved, I have still received no reply, and I really believe, given the way they have handled all other communication I have made on this matter, that they have decided I can wait until after Christmas because if I thought I should be able to get it out of the way before then they are going to teach me I can’t do things at my own convenience.  I didn’t even think of Christmas.  I did what I knew I had to do at the time.  If this is the approach they are taking towards me, it is their cynicism, not mine, and is completely contemptuous.  There might be another reason but, if there is, they are not exactly showing any human concern.  I haven’t even had an acknowledgement of the email I sent them, let alone an update.  This must be wrong, especially when I first started trying to deal with it back in March 2009 and they have failed to deliver in terms of the way they said they were going to handle it, even after many attempts to get a clarification.  I’m wondering why I am being held hostage in this way and why I, as the person who made the report and has later complained about the way it has been handled from start to finish in the way they have treated me, am being made to feel as if I don’t matter.  It appears to me that they MUST be trying to hide something.  If they are waiting for me to be prepared to deal with it in the way they think I should be, that is awfully patronising and shows incompetence rather than anything else.  I’ve made the report.  I’ve made the complaint.  I am being ignored on one hand and being put under pressure on the other while they wait for – what?  Perfection in the way I go about things and the way I express my feelings over the situation before they will allow any resolution or progress or closure?  These people, whose officers have been exposed for rape and other misdemeanours?  They think they have a right to hold me, someone who went to them voluntarily, hostage?

You daren’t say too much against these people.  They have ways of making you pay.  Violence, neglect, incarceration under the mental health act, leaving you to deal with abuse and vigilantism in the neighbourhood.  Would they take out a contract on my life?  Would they physically have me killed?  I really don’t know.

Edit note: 11.36 am Bulgarian time:

This post didn’t appear under it’s assigned categories and tags for several minutes.  I thought it wasn’t going to, so I contacted WordPress to ask why.

When I finished (perhaps this is what is commonly called ‘paranoia’, but I don’t think so, though I am in the city centre, more or less), a police car came past with its siren wailing.  It stopped and started and stopped and started, sort, long, it felt deliberately timed and mocking, angry, harassing and threatening.

Now I’m angry.  MY anger is not acceptable, so I am also afraid.  In the light of everything that has happened this year – should I just laugh at myself and stop being so precious and pretentious?  It looks as if I am being targeted for deliberate harassment.  If the action is deliberate, harassment might not be their motivation, it is just the quickest interpretation people arrive at. But whatever the motivation, if it IS deliberate, it is experienced as harassment and contempt and provocation, and knowing that might be what they want, I am angry, and sick with fear because of that possibility.  Because when that happens, it is normal, and right, to want to confront the human beings responsible.  But if I did I would come off worst.  That is how people become mentally ill.  Not being allowed to confront what is wrong with what is right, and having to pretend compliance where it is absolutely wrong, in the face of authorities and powerful organisations and individuals who pretend they are not doing what they most obviously and certainly seem to be doing.  I’m afraid, because they might be using this kind of activity towards me to get me to reveal my identity and whereabouts.  Even though my landlord, I think, has to give them that information anyway.  I’m afraid because, when I think I am wrong, I feel it deeply, and they make me feel that way all the time.  I’m afraid because my normal mode is love and respect, and they seem to enjoy invalidating that, or misappropriating it.  I feel stupid.  I think that is what they want me to feel.  Back off and watch a woman being abused and wait until she cries for help, realising how right they really are and acknowledging how wrong she really is.

Um . . .

I eventually got round to having a bowl of porridge today, around 3pm. It was the first food I had eaten since Sunday. I’ve not had a decent cup of tea or coffee in that time either, I ran out of soya milk.

I discovered that my ‘nice little stop gap shop’, as I thought it was, is not far away from where I am staying at the moment. They sell soya milk in there. I got there 5 or 10 minutes before they close.

The first thing that happened was the older woman who was there looked disparagingly at my clothes as soon as I walked in, so I gave her a big grin and said hello as if she was a dear friend I hadn’t expected to see. I’d never seen her before. I’ve never been in that late.  She said something rather loudly that sounded like ‘celebrity’.

Anyway, there was a little man in a black leather jacket who started coming on heavy around me. That put my back up. I told him I was looking for soya milk, which they normally have, and he kept saying ‘no’, as if I was stupid even to ask for it. He didn’t even seem to know where to look.

So there he was, giving me the verbal, so I gave it back. Next thing I knew he was grabbing hold of me, and I told him not to and said he was breaking the law. I said I’d call the police. Yeah, right, like they care! If I thought they cared I wouldn’t need to fight a losing battle so hard for myself.

Anyway, he grabbed me again and started dragging me and shouting, so as much as I was desperate for what I had bought, and just as desperate for what I hadn’t been able to, I said, ‘right, OK, I won’t have ANY of it’, and dropped it on the floor. He got worse, I think he hit me, so I hit him back. Nothing heavy, just beating with the side of my fist, I’m not strong enough to do harm and didn’t intend to anyway.  I was just trying to make a point I hoped he would respect and stop what he was doing.

Next thing I know, he’s let himself drop to the floor, and then the old woman started hitting me, and he got up and joined in, and I think there was someone else, another man, joining in as well, and then I was really frightened, because they didn’t seem as if they were going to stop. The young woman who serves there stood outside the door looking alarmed, and I looked at her and saw she wanted it to stop, and said to them, ‘oh no, please let me go’. I didn’t know how far they would go. I wish I wasn’t writing this, I need some support for my tears, and I have none, either here where I am or anywhere, with anyone reading. Real support manifests in action that makes an appropriate difference.

Anyway, he grabbed hold of me again and threw me out of the door, and I was frightened I might end up hurt on the floor. Then I looked back and they were all laughing, and he was making sexual gestures with his fist and saying go fuck yourself. I came to this country with an open heart. Me. I’ve stayed here, in both hope and fear. Is this too melodramatic? Probably. I run with my tears, I believe my tears and my pain, instead of turning it to humour. I imagine people saying, ‘no, it’s OK, it’s not melodramatic, pain and tears are OK’, and wish I was with them to receive the imagined support instead of typing on my keyboard.

They were just there, laughing, when I said it was criminal and I would call the police. I’ve no idea why they were laughing. And he was coming on with the violent sexual gestures and talk. There was a locked door between us. I wanted to fall on them and say, ‘oh no, please don’t do that’. Almost a feeling of ‘please, what’s the matter? Why are you acting like that towards me?’ Everything I said to try and recover myself and some sort of control and communicate to them how bad what they had just done was, they stood there laughing, and it looked so pleasant in itself, it has left me feeling that I want to go back and apologise and ask THEM to forgive ME. Every time your vocal tone breaks through to freedom, they ride hard on the top of it with speech of their own. And I think they seem like such wonderful people, it makes it feel like a good thing and not a bad one, and something I should just accept as the way they do things at this point in their development and maybe always will. And that it isn’t bad, it just isn’t liberal. What’s so great about liberal? Not every country operates liberally, and some of them that don’t seem to be better ruled than we are.

People say Bulgarians are so helpful. That’s not what I saw tonight, and on many similar occasions people just turn away. They refuse to acknowledge anything bad in their own actions. Ever. I’m not England’s rich, I’m England’s poor, the poorest of. I came here hopeful, not avaricious. This is so cruel. It is, it REALLY is, so hateful – isn’t it?

What really got to me was that the woman started hitting me for hitting her husband, so I assumed, when he was being aggressive towards me both physically and verbally. Isn’t a woman allowed to have had enough of that and to stand up for herself in kind? Why would one woman turn on another woman who is hitting a man that has hit her? Especially here, where figures for abuse of women have been presented to me as being so high – 1 in 4, the last I read. I can’t think that she joined in out of fear, her smile and laughter straight afterwards seemed so natural and with such relish.

I just wanted a cup of tea and a slice of toast. That’s all I wanted. I’ve been avoiding going out all day because I thought I’d have to deal with taxi drivers. I didn’t know it was so close. I met the first girl I dealt with from Mirela when I was looking in Sofia for accommodation, she gave me directions. But at the end she gave me a look of open distaste. Maybe that’s why I’m not getting replies to my emails from Mirela.

I was raging through the street all the way home. A girl who had ignored me for 2 minutes as if she didn’t understand turned round and said to me, ‘don’t talk about my country like that’. Why not? I’m its victim got here under false pretences, it looks like.

In the covered arcade, just after I had passed him, a man in a uniform said excuse me. I said no. I thought he was just security and had no right to make me stop. I asked if he was police, he said yes, I didn’t believe him, said arrest me then, but you’re just security and you can’t arrest me because I’m not doing anything to your property. He followed me at a distance and silently in a way I felt intimidated by, then he disappeared for a while, but he reappeared as I got closer to home and managed to get conviction into my voice as I called them scum. As soon as strength, conviction and an end to my lack of self-control came into sight, there he was, still following at a distance. Do they hate me because they think I am rich and privileged? I’m not, though. How can people be so cruel as to be contemptuous towards people who have come to their country in hope and in peace? Not because they think they are owed anything.

The shop is just off Maria Luiza Boulevard, on a street on the right coming away from Vitosha Boulevard. The street is opposite a shopping centre with a clock tower, 2 streets before Tsar Simeon. The shop is on the right, past Costa Coffee on the left, past the mineral water outlets on the right, just across the road. It’s a shop with a green sign, on a corner, the name looks like Boehpe, or something similar. I used to like shopping there. I thought it was a nice little shop and a nice change from Billa. I thought as long as it was nearby I’d never have to go to Billa again.

Duh!

Is this acceptable discipline from a man to a woman in Bulgaria? Is this the right way to treat a woman who obviously is a bit above her station, and has no other man to take her in hand? Is this the right way to treat hypocrisy and refusal to trust and give the love and respect you feel, even in spite of yourself? Is it? I don’t know, but to me it feels right. Will someone with the power to make a difference please stand up and tell me it is wrong, if it is? Because if you allow it without positive action, you might as well say it is right. That’s the message people know I’m getting from you, in everything but words.  I’m saying this to my country’s government.

My landlord came to the house with a police car once, to demand his rent.  I’m not sure, I think I heard something just like it outside where I’m staying.  It blares a bit like a fog horn.  That was in a little village street, the same noise.  From a landlord who already seemed to be telling me he didn’t want me there anyway.

I hope this time it wasn’t connected with me.

When I started writing this and saying today, it was still Tuesday.  Midnight passed here just before I posted.

The one where Bulgarian men had been giving me a hard time?  Well, straight after WordPress Freshly Pressed a post called ‘Words That Make Your Resume Suck’, by Crone And Bear It.

I’m not sure whose support is allowing them to get away with this.

I’ve also had problems logging into my aol account with Opera.  AOL features a number of news stories on its homepage. After several attempts to log in I was taken back to the home page which flashed a story for a few moments, headlined ‘no turkeys here’, then it disappeared and the original set of stories came back.

Is narrowcasting in this way hateful and angry, or is that just a projection of my own feelings every time it hits me?  It’s an invasion of privacy in the life of someone who has not chosen a public profession.  I think the only reason some people deride the idea of boundaries is so that they can cross them with impunity, leaving targets of particular persuasions about openness and honesty etc feeling too embarrassed to challenge and expose them.

I expect my blog to be closed down soon.  If it is I will lose all my material.  If you read WordPress Terms and Conditions you will see they can close down a blog without notice and without obligation.

BBC World News

Do you know that if you are in the UK, you aren’t allowed to watch it?  It is available for live streaming on the internet and on cable channels abroad, but if you are detected on the internet to be in the UK, you can’t watch it.  You are physically barred and a message comes up saying you’re not allowed to watch.  This is a British broadcast of World News, it says.  But in the UK you can’t watch it.  I hope people are going to ask why, I think they should.

I have UK connection through an unlock VPN provider.  That’s how I know.  I use it to watch and download UK tv.  It’s legal.  I hope it stays that way.

David Edes is on BBC World News, weekday mornings.

I’m trying to write in spite of the fact that my hysteria would have me not do so and in spite of the fact that my hysteria blocks my access to the way I want to write and even makes me write in a way I don’t want to.

I’m hysterical because the way they target me psychologically and linguistically leaves me feeling I have been touched in my private parts.  It was a man, dark skinned guy doing the sport, and all the time he was doing it he was eyeballing ‘the camera’, with a sort of stupid, vacant look on his face, but also quite intent.

He started off saying ‘we’, in that significant way they do, and later in his presentation he came back to saying something like I heard a week or so ago, ‘now, I want to talk to you about this‘.  It was said in the tone you would adopt if you were telling someone off, that was the scenario they set up.  It was as if they were talking to a naughty dog.  It was demeaning, dehumanising and very distressing.  But they keep going, as if they haven’t done anything wrong.  Maybe it was one man coming to the aid of another, because David Edes was visibly upset.  But if they do it by treating a woman that way then these men are completely indecent and evil and not fit to be unleashed on anyone.  I wouldn’t want to be married to them, and if I had children I wouldn’t want these men anywhere near them.

And there they were, molesting secretively and moving on as if they had done nothing wrong.  And I’m sitting there watching and becoming more and more physically distressed because it was tantamount to an indecent touch.  Although I feel it, I continue to watch, trying to come to terms with what they have just done, and also open and interested to see where they go next.  But watching them and listening to them, I do myself a disservice.

But this sort of thing happens any time I begin to recover.  This machine is disgusting, degrading and murderous.  They have gathered all the information about me that they can and use it to try and present themselves as people who want to help me and who understand, but when you begin to think independently of them and repossess your own life, they attack you in this way.  If they are not allowed to be the helpers and the benefactors, they will just as happily turn round and assault you in this way.

It makes me feel as if I am wrong and that, as a woman, I should respond to these men on their terms and that it is unreasonable of me not to do so.  It makes me feel they have a right to molest me in this way if they don’t get what they want.  These career people shaping the way we see the world are acting like the scum of the earth.

I feel like a bad woman, because I object to be treated this way.  I believe this is how they want me to feel, or they would not adopt that tone.

Or maybe they don’t care how I feel, they just want their own embarrassment to stop.  So they go for me in that way and feel helped, but I feel so worked over I’m too distressed even to leave my home.  A sexual touch opens people up. It’s like linguistic hit and run rape.  And knowing all my electronic communication, even before it is released, is being watched by govenrment, media and church people makes it even worse.  They are there watching, and do nothing.  Then they turn and try toi make you think they are the people supporting your life because they don’t stop your benefits.  But you never know when they are going to, and if I was properly compensated for what they have done to me I might never need to make a decision ever again that was money based, I believe I am entitled to that much compensation.  I could live the life of Reilly, and that would be wonderful

Is this kind of thing what David Shearman was referring to when he said ages ago that it is molestation?  If so, I agree with him on that.

Yesterday the BBC New Channel put together an account of a teenage asylum seeker who said she had a torch shone into her face once an hour during the night to make sure she hadn’t harmed herself (common sense says there are times to leave people alone to sleep, and this happened to me in hospital as well.  And if a person is ill, they need sleep?  No further comment), with a sign saying ‘Welcome to Crane’, an asylum seekers’ unit and also the name of the secondary school I went to and where I was repeatedly molested by a male teacher who has now died, and this story was immediately followed up by a story about a teacher charged with sexual molestation of a pupil in school.

I think the people upstairs must be watching television or listening to the radio or something.  I believe the media here is stalking me as well, and as I typed that bit, which is obviously a part of me that I need to possess if I’m to have any chance of recovering my life, the man started to shout out.  maybe the same man that pitched up and shouted aggressively outside my flat on my first or second day here.  This happens repeatedly.  I have nothing to relate to anyone with, the onslaught of violence, aggression and molestation is so continuous.  It’s as if they are saying, ‘don’t touch that, that’s mine’, every time I begin to engage with my own life and experiences.  It’s not theirs, it’s not yours, it’s mine.  It is mine.  It’s my life and history my mind is beginning to engage with every time someone touches me in this way.

All of you, whoever you are engaged in doing this, UK and anywhere else, you are indecent, murderous bastards, and I hope you are made to pay.  You are going to pay.  There are other voices than mine in agreement, and I hope they read this and act.  And I hope the media stops using my life to shape its material, whether news or entertainment or lifestyle or whatever.  Because these people are the criminals and the space invaders, not me.  Are they too stupid, so morally and ethically far gone, they can’t even see that?

I’ve just had a memory blank on the results of my search on media stalking, but when I did a search on media harassment, almost everything that comes tagged in that way is complaining about harassment of and attacks on media people and organisations.

There is very little categorised under this heading which addresses what I thought should obviously be addressed by this section, the harassment of people and groups outside of the media by the media.  What I did find was written by a dedicated law firm which, when I left a comment months ago, didn’t post it or contact me as I had asked.

I had a phone conversation this morning.  It went the way of all phone conversations.  It started off OK, but towards the end of the conversation the woman lowered the tone of her voice from what had felt open and friendly to something else, and I had to quickly regather myself because I censor myself from expressing my disturbance over that kind of thing.  I have to be upbeat on the phone, and can’t get into conversations, normally, objecting to a turn the conversation has taken.  For one thing, people are listening.  It would be humiliating and embarassing.

Think of it.  I get on the phone hoping and praying and doing everything I can to make sure a conversation goes well and the way I want it to, because the alternative is to feel humiliated and embarassed in front of the people who are monitoring my call.  This is a ludicrous mindset to have to be in.  I can’t cope with problems in a conversation because of what my stalkers will think and do with it.  I pick up the phone and dial, assuring myself that I am in control and it is going to be OK, and when it isn’t I’m not ready to cope with it.  I got off the phone today and thought it had been a psychological hold-up.  Maybe it was or wasn’t, but the stalking element leaves me feeling paralysed.  It’s like being held down while people rape you.

I realised to day that part of the reason I get angry with the ‘shmooziness’  of some news readers etc is that they are shmoozy because they are happy about stuff relating to me that they have no right of access to anyway.  Their very happiness and, for me as the target, unhidden use of what they know and their assumption that it is OK, makes me angry.  It happens even, and maybe especially, with people I think seem nice.  David Edes, Tim Willcox, Tommy Boyd, Hew Edwards.  There are women, I can’t remember their names.  They appear to be taking pleasure in me, and I am still out here, unable to breathe, trying to live my life on the terms I have a right to, and they have no right to what they have.

This actually makes me lose my sympathy with the cause of free speech and freedom of the press.  I’m seeing the stories about limitations on the media in other countries and thinking it might not be such a bad thing.  The rulers rule and the amoral ‘free press’ causes unrest, or at least stokes it.  That’s not good.  I believe we need a free press, but their irresponsibility and in some cases criminality (some things that are designated crimes are rightly so designated) might actually be undermining their necessary and legitimate continuance.  And other countries look to the example set by the west, and however bad things might be, they don’t want the alternative bad they see with us.

This is not my cause.  My cause is to try and salvage my own life.

I watched some Bulgarian TV last night.  I switched on to a comedy show where someone was dressed up as an orthodox priest, and within seconds he was gesturing as if to suggest women’s breasts, he said something about a baby, he said something which sounded like Sklave, and stuck 2 fingers up at the camera.

I can’t cope.  I’m frightened, these men look terrifying to me.  And you’re telling some awful stories about crimes that take place in some Eastern European countries, like the one about people being killed for their organs you came out with yesterday.  I’ve never heard you say that the same thing happens in the west, but I think common sense says it must do?  UK media, church, and politicians, you have done this to me.  How are you going to put it right?  People that look like me and people I know are flashed on news programmes all the time.  It used to be my immediate neighbours in London.  Now it is my neighbours and landlords and transport providers and supermarket staff in Bulgaria.  Do you think I want anything to do with you?  Do you think I should trust you?

Laura Koensberg (not sure of spelling).  Now there is a piece of work.  She and people like her are dangerous.  All they care about is what they think is their right to their own workspace.

It’s not just a rant, it’s what I really think and feel, most of the time.  Every time I say something against someone I feel sympathy for them and end up thinking I shouldn’t say it.  But I have a right to be wrong.  If she cares she can contact me, or sue me.  But it’s a big ‘if’, isn’t it?

Wikileaks Stopped Me Screaming

Thank you, Wikileaks.

I suppose because I heard what the leaks were, when they were about the US spying on the United Nations, and let’s just say I wasn’t impressed.  I suppose because I assumed that UK leaders knew about that and that if we were supposed to value our membership of the United Nations, and we were party to spying on them, I thought that was really grubby and hypocritical.  I was really pleased that it came out.  I have every reason to be sympathetic towards the United Nations over this issue, and for me the war with Iraq and with Afghanistan was illegal because it went against United Nations ruling. I don’t understand any more than that.  I bought the angle that Iraq is a sovereign nation and that we have no right to interfere in how they run their affairs.  And also I don’t believe that the war on terrorism can be a literal war.  And what is shock and awe, if it isn’t an act of terrorism?  Inwardly I was screaming no since before it started and as soon as they started talking about considering it.  I saw angry, hate driven men sitting around the tables on the television talking about what to do.  I saw men driven by a really dark and life-denying spirit.  All retaliation does is perpetuate a thing.  It might quell it momentarily and take away its figureheads, but it comes back, goes underground – what’s this stuff about Jerry Adams?  We know this kind of thing happens, even if it hasn’t happened in this case, which I don’t know because I haven’t kept up with the news.

People have been anti war for centuries, even millenia.  But they put all these august men in suits on the TV saying how the war is right and that we should be behind our boys.  I wonder if these people have any space in their lives for someone like Leo Tolstoy, or if they would make out they have if asked, even if they haven’t?  Leo Tolstoy was a pacifist.  I think he was also a Christian Anarchist, but I can’t remember.  I began to read one of his books last year.  Unfortunately I left my books in London.  I bought a one way ticket.  I thought I would be back within a month, my purchase under my belt.

I was really upset when I heard they wanted to arrest Julian Assange.  It certainly looks as if it is politically motivated.  I felt I owed him, and I can’t remember why.  John Major on the Andrew Marr Show yesterday put it down to youthful folly.  They weren’t his exact words but they meant the same.  That is really demeaning.  You can’t say you are pro democracy and take up a position like that as a leader.  Why put it down to youthfulness?  I assume Wikileaks people will continue to act on the same convictions when they are the same age as John Major and beyond that.  He puts it down to youthfulness because the voice of the war machine is the dominant voice in society.  If it wasn’t someone would be putting down going to war as youthful foolishness, which I believe it is.

Julian Assange, I salute you.

OMG!!!

First published 9th December 2010, after a post on veganism.

Edit:  This is a Sticky Post – Stuck to the front page for future reference.  It didn’t appear in any of the tag categories I selected, I assume because it has too many tags, although plenty of others that HAVE appeared have more than the 10 suggested in WordPress Help.

I brainstormed on the tags.  One reason I have stuck this on the front page, so you can search the categories any time, and so can I.  And what I say in this is relevant much of the time.   If you look at my tags in this you get an idea of how I think and feel about what is happening and how I think it should be perceived, understood and treated.

Spread the word, please, if you are with me.  Maybe if I break up the tags into easier to handle chunks I can get the post into all the categories I want, if I reproduce it or something.

Just listen to the sickly sweetness on Premier right now.  You have an hour.  I wouldn’t mind if it wasn’t criminally fuelled sarcasm, teasing and stalking.  They are not sincere people, even if they sound it.

Listen, you will hear them using my blog.  Even this.

They are taunting people, maybe me, with ‘Ah, you think YOU are always right, do you?’ But whether I am or not, I’m not using criminal means to enforce my opinion.  They are.  These Christians.  If you can’t win and you want to cry, mock and laugh, they say.  These carers for souls and God’s vision for humanity as a whole.  Unfit for purpose.

What’s it like, playing God? Esther says.  You’re asking the wrong person, Esther.  I wouldn’t know.  You would though, if you think He authorises the use of criminality and everything else in my tags to destroy a person.  Croaking and squeaking, most of it is deliberate and to hurt and offend FOR NO GOOD REASON EXCEPT TO WIN FOR YOUR ORGANISATION and you have no right to my sympathy.  I am not you, I am weak, you are abusing your position.

And you keep teasing, making out you’re going to comment or pass an opinion on what I say, but talk about something else.  I can hear the mockery in your voices, past experience of you all helps.

I love it when John Pantry gets hsi knickers in a twist about something being blatant.  If he’s talking about me, he’s projecting.  he is seeing things that were not intended at the time of writing, but I am awfully glad they are there.  But they weren’t intentional, so it is all, for him, a product of his mind, guilty and sneaky as it is.

Thank you for seeming sweet, guys, even if you are not.  We all need our illusions, especially at this time in the morning.  Pity mine don’t hold.

Got it – they are taking the message to their own consciences and forcing them outwards. That’s what this kind of Christianity does, all the time.  Look at the blogs, see how often they talk about they rather than I or we.  They think it is a sign of good authority to stand out in the street complaining loudly or pointing the finger, literally, in someone else’s face, a member of their congregation.  I’ve seen and heard it all, and deliberately recoil from and distance myself from it.  Buzz, buzz.

I’m being censored.  This doesn’t appear in any of my tag categories, 50 minutes on, and the Premier news just had something said with firm sternness about needing medical help.  It’s not new.  Maybe that is why Premier felt able to mock so freely and why it was so effective.  They caught me on my blind side.  I assumed it was going out and being shown in the categories.

Rick Easter, I have no responsibility.  I’ve already tried to meet it many times over, and you continue to taunt and terrorise based on the consequences.  You are angry, degrading people.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b00wlg97/Have_I_Got_News_for_You_Series_40_Episode_9/

Yesterday I made 3 blog posts, and this week, including yesterday, I have done some searches on my tags and read some interesting stuff, mainly around religion, psychology and philosophy.

This programme is interesting to me at this time.  I always feel for people who appear to be in distress, and some of these people did.  Miranda Hart is a new name to me.  I’ve just discovered she is a comedienne trained in acting and in politics whose father held a position in the Royal Navy at the time of the Falklands war.  Nice.  A bit of class.  And they ended with pandas.  I like pandas.  And I learned there is a backbencher called Alan Futhermucker (or was that a joke? It was said in the context of a newsreader making what was, for him, a distressing and embarrassing mistake over Jeremy Hunt’s name.  The poor newsreader was mortified.

So why has the BBC squawked over the whole tone of the programme at the end with metallic and empty twitter from a girl talking about the next programme?  Is this the BBC saying, ‘we give you the platform and we set the boundaries.  We control perceptions.’?

I know this happens on the television when it is television, but on the internet recordings we don’t get that throw forward, as it is called.  Not normally.  This is the first time I have seen or heard it with an iPlayer TV programme.

So why now?  I hope it isn’t something we can expect on all future programmes.

The thing is, they are smashing at people’s minds and ability to think, including mine.  The jarring is deliberate, the timings, I believe, are deliberate, never quite enough time to ‘be with’ anything.  They say it is because our attention spans are not that long and that they are accommodating that ‘fact’, but if that is really what they think and why they do it, there is a sizable and voluble section of the population that is saying, ‘hang on, this is dumb down stuff’.  I am part of that section.  I’m not one of the people who doesn’t care about that, I care very much and object strongly, just on the general level.

As someone who is actively being targeted for stalking or whatever people want me to call it (stalking isn’t a very nice word and we are all lovely people) I find it particularly chilling, infuriating and petrifying.

I find it grievous too, because having just turned 50, I’m looking back and blaming myself for having allowed them to invade and control my life, and limit it, to the extent that they have.  In the coolness of thought, with everything that was happening to me and around me with family and neighbours and other contacts and acquaintances, I had no choice but to give attention to what was happening, and it did set out to make a grab for me.

As I’ve said before, I’ve asked over and over and over again for people to make proper contact through normal recognised channels of communication, and on the very few occasions that someone has their communication has seemed to me to be controlling and evasive of the issues.  Most of the time people don’t.

The whole thing has left me feeling that I have been too relaxed and happy and chilled for people’s comfort, so they set out first of all to destroy me emotionally and have me blame myself for it (or other members of my family or friends), then they can easily go for my underbelly, or jugular, and ruin my reputation (ha ha!) or make me do so myself.

Sometimes I look at what I’m feeling and the areas of personal development I feel I need to work on and think it is more appropriate to teenage angst than it is to a woman in her 50s.  I mean, I’m over the hill, man.  I’m Saga age!  People were talking about retiring at 55 yesterday.

I look at my attitude and realise it has become as unattractive and disrespectful as what I have constantly been fed exposed to.  For me, disrespect is not a gateway to answers.

I’m thinking about the student marches.  More later.  Except the same things that shape me shape them.  It’s obviously because I’m 50 years old.  I once had an employer who had a student or graduate customer come in all the time and tell him how to change his business.  It infuriated him.  He kept saying things like, ‘bloody kids, you can’t tell them anything.  Coming in and telling me how to run my business.  They think they know it all’.

Our young students are the same.  Who has taught them this invective and rhetoric?  Do they think they are thinking for themselves?  They are trying so hard to be the young, bright, entitled people they have been taught to believe they are in the face of a government which is now saying they are not, in effect, if not by intention.

We talk about reason and debate.  Why are these poor young kids with no idea of the world having to fight this on their own with such shoddy weapons, risking arrest?  Are the parents not voluble, or is it just that the media isn’t letting us see that bit?  Why are the marches being shown and, it could be said, glorified, but no one is saying anything about the parents and their role to fight for their children’s future?

These children are not independent.  Their futures are under threat.  And they don’t really understand what they are dealing with.  That isn’t their fault, they are young. They just haven’t been around long enough, no matter how well-informed they think they are.  I really hope there is a strong parent movement behind them.  This is not a battle they should have to fight on their own.  It needs people who know and understand and who command respect, who can’t be fobbed off because of their youth and inexperience, although some of them might be got on their posturing, just like the kids.  Where do we think the kids get it from?

But I don’t know, either.  I heard someone say that in paying back the student debt if they earn over £21,000, they will be hampered in their abilities to establish a home.  But I don’t know if that is true.  Because I don’t know how much they will be expected to pay back each time they have to make the payments, I don’t know what the general cost of living will be, I don’t know what will have happened to house prices.

Eee by gum, talk about sensationalism.  Or is it just my own ignorance of facts that are readily available?

We’ve had a lot of witchcraft imagery in the media lately.  When the Pope came, on the first day he or some high official was confronted by a reporter called LeVey, or McVey, or something.  Anton LeVey wrote the Satanist Bible, I think.  In that same first programme I think it was Hew Edwards who was talking about cauldrons.  Or maybe it was someone else.  I might be getting him mixed up with someone else because, when the woman who used to be a nun and was part of the on screen discussion group said ‘It’s a big ask’, he rapidly took control of that.  I’ve always thought it was supposed to sound like ‘a big arse’ (unacceptable in UK) ass (unacceptable to US readers)  arse/ass, both common in children’s playgrounds.  But this woman said it innocently and for some reason Hew Edwards took it away from her  I think that was where the cauldrons bit came in, straight after.

I’ve noticed this a lot, when someone says something innocent which has previously been perverted/subverted by the media, or some people in it, the innocent use is treated with embarrassment and consternation, and attention taken away from it as quickly as possible.

Anyway, that will do for now.  I don’t want to be rude, but I have to be busy this morning.  I feel as if I have just shot myself in the foot.  that if I disconnected more respectfully, acknowledging I have no right to be in my present position and therefore ‘busy’ in the first place, someone would say I am now ready to be helped and swoop down and help me, send me an email or something.  As long as they don’t arrive at my door to take me into custody, but at the moment I feel I would even be willing to face that, but that isn’t allowing for the level of intimidation people might use in that kind of situation.  Some people turn into savages when faced with a decent and reasonable person they have been told to arrest or put in hospital.  I know.  I do feel like a bad person though, taking my country for a ride, so maybe even that shouldn’t be a problem to me.  Usually though my fear is that they are going to get physical, and I can’t control my feelings, both of fear and outrage.  And I try to resort to reason as well, and find the attempt is despised.

I’m desperate.  Is anyone going to make proper contact and give me an official way out?  Even if the way out is arrest and prison.  It’s better than this uncertainty and feeling of cheating all the time.  It has to be.

East Midlands Today 24.11.2010

Edit note 26.11.2010

http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b00w5djf/East_Midlands_Today_25_11_2010/

These people are vicious.  Aggressively invasive and sexual gropers and hateful in every way.  Whatever they want, they and those like them, I oppose them as a point of principle.  The woman was wearing dress a bit like a kaftan I bought off ebay.  The one on a child called Chloe in Doctors was more like it, teamed with other personal details, as all these programmes are.  ‘I am you and you are me’, Tommy Boyd said.  That’s how these programmes work.  It’s like a personality mix and match or chop suey (get it?).  I took what Tommy said at a heart level, but perhaps he meant something else.

These human beings are acting like dogs, and that is grotesque.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b00w5dj5/East_Midlands_Today_24_11_2010/

For some reason my link buttons are inaccessible, so I had to copy the link from the browser rather than use the short form provided by the BBC.

Dominic Heal looks like my grandad.  I pointed this out to an MEP I accidentally left a comment for (I didn’t know she was an MEP), and on the following Monday he was not there.

I decided to be sensible about it a couple of days after he came back.  I decided he is just a man in television doing his job, and it isn’t his fault that he looks like my grandad and has a name reminiscent of a pastor at Kensington Temple, Dominic, part of a church which believes in healing.

But I watched this today (it’s supposed to be available until about 7pm tonight and isn’t downloadable unless you can record it yourself), and it seems obvious to me that he knows and is fully aware of the role he is playing.

The programme features a woman, a senior citizen (must be politically correct) who was knocked down by a hit and run driver who had stolen a yellow dumper truck.  A lot like the one the people I stayed with in Wales have.

This kind of coincidental crime happens all the time, I remember another one which was also hit and run.  It was a car which had the number of my address on the back.  I’m not sure how that happened, the woman was run over by her own car, I think it was hit and run.

Anyone would think that, if I am a decent person, I will stop there.

But I started writing this post to complain.

I told Nick Ferrari on LBC that I hated cigarettes.  Since then programmes have constantly linked cigarettes with things that I enjoy, the mention of which will open me up, and then they come on with the cigarette reference, either in word or gesture.

On the show in this post, the hit and run was described as callous.  Possibly I was not intended to link this word with anything to do with me, but because what followed next came so hard after, in my mind I have linked it all together.

So in my mind, this man who looks like the grandad I never got on with while he was alive because he shouted and hit me is associated with calling me callous if I don’t respond to this on his terms.  They then went on to talk about honing your craft, and straight after he followed it up with a hand gesture as if he was holding a cigarette.

This kind of thing always knocks me for six.  But for the rest of the programme they were wheeling it round and at the end seemed to be asking for a confirmation of the incident (is that so, or something like that), a young black guy came on with the weather forecast in the way Tommy Boyd said he thought it should be done.  In my post yesterday I wrote about hospital.  Lewisham is a mixed race area with a lot of black people.  This was reflected on the ward, and the guy was close to tears.

Can you imagine how I feel challenging this?

They already know about the yellow truck.  I don’t know how.  I want to run to co-operate, but it is still stalking.  Why won’t they make normal contact?  Why do they need to take charge in this way, assuming an identity which isn’t their own to do it?

I was often in hospital because I insisted all this was happening.  Now they want me to validate it.

I keep hearing, ‘you’ve brought it on yourself’.  That isn’t true, and should never be said to any victim of any kind of abuse.

These things are happening because someone has made their own evil decision that they should.  I did not make them make that decision.  Nothing I have said or done could ever justify a decision like that from someone else.

It might be convenient for them to think I’ve brought it on myself, though.  That way they can be my rescuers to whom I should be grateful, and I can be their pawn as long as I’m not prepared to meet them on those terms.

Premeir talked this morning about be thankful to God for saving their life.  It sounded like a directive to me that I should be grateful because they have saved my life.  But it was them that put me in such dire straits in the first place.

I don’t know how long they have seen themselves as saving my life.  I think if they had given me the security I asked for in asking them to make proper contact with me it might not have needed to be saved.

Check out the strange body language, the theatrical flourishes etc, at the end of this news report.  Or is it just me?  It leaves me wanting to respond but forgetting what I am going to have to go through, 2000 miles away, in order to do so.

But he’s saying, ‘we’re here’.  Isn’t he?  But stalking and all that stuff for years isn’t just a technicality.  It can’t be.  He looks like my grandad.  I know it and he knows it.  That’s why it carries weight.  And I was 50 on the 24th.  Wow, that’s magic.  But enjoying it is just out of reach, and my birthday was the pits.

No more for now.  I’m too confused.

Big Daddy Weave – David Shearman or his dad.

Trust and Obey – My baptismal hymn

Doreen – me old mam

Stuttering – my uncle Frank

Celebrate Your Beautiful News – Happy 50th birthday?

How was I supposed to realise that?  It feels like my failure, but they already know I see what they are doing as stalking and psychological pressure when a proper, direct approach would be more appropriate in every way.

He’s playing immovable tank, just like Fred/George Stubbs, the man who bullied his way into a pastorate over a divided diaconate, taking presidence before he was even chosen by the congregation.

They went by do as you’re told without thinking about the technicalities.  Cliff and Rachel got everyone except 4 of us who attended the meeting (a lot had already left the church) on their side.

I started recording Premier Radio at about 8.50 am UK time, and I just started to listen. I had started in the middle of a song, and at the end John Pantry played a testimony by a woman about Premier helping her to calm down, then he said Esther was joining him on the line, and said something about someone waving a piece of paper at him all smiles.

He does this kind of obvious intervention all the time.

Apart from the fact that it is criminal, what do I have against him? Several things, but the last time I saw him at Premier (I was acting a bit like the building’s ghost at the time) I met him in the lift going out, and apologised for lying about a small incident, I can’t remember what, something to do with the lift, and explained that I had been embarrassed.  I think I had met him in the lift on a previous occasion.   When we got outside he turned away sucking his teeth.

If he hasn’t changed, it still matters.  As it should.  It doesn’t really matter emotionally, but it does in other ways.  All his approaches feel like an assault.  I have a right to know what is going on on the radio without having him or others interfering with me like that.  It’s like a confrontational ‘hello’, which I used to get from people on the door at St Barnabas.  Confrontational hellos are not friendly.

They come at you like a tidal wave, and make you feel wrong and powerless.  But they shouldn’t be doing it.  I’m not going into the studio.  I am recording the radio at home.

They are obviously hiding something, or they wouldn’t need to be so confrontational and interceptive.   They want to take charge of me for some reason, in a way that an open and direct approach wouldn’t allow them to.  Common sense says it must be some sort of damage limitation exercise.  Blow the damage their harshness and undisclosed false accusations have done to me and mine, specifically, for decades.

Damn them.

In Jesus’ Name

Amen.

John is a naughty, sniggering boy caught out in the act.  He comes on with the gravitas, but he’s a naughty, sniggering boy.  I don’t want to love him.  I want to hate him for what he has done to me and what he has taken.

Sorry, John.

49 Or 50?

49 or 50?

(Or, as I heard a politician say today, neither fish nor foul!)

50 IS a special age.  If they say it isn’t, they’re lying.

I just thought I’d get this in now to be awkward – here in Bulgaria I am 50 years and 1 and a 1/2 hours old.  In the UK I am still 49.  Which counts and why?

When I realised I was 50, I smiled.  It was automatic.

Then I looked at where I am and felt suicidal (I’m not exaggerating).

I don’t know why or if I’m right (I’m probably not), but I believe 50 is God’s age.  That is, a special age to God.  It’s God’s reaching of majority.  5 is, my tradition tells me, the number of grace.

Whatever anyone might pray for me or try to bless me with in the future, no one can ever give me back the attaining of my 50th birthday.  That has gone.  Reconcile that for me someone, please.

I feel embarrassed making a big thing of this, because now I’m actually writing it doesn’t seem that important.  I also feel as if it is an insult to God to be so faithless for the future.

But I still felt that way, and it still is a big thing.

Check out WordPress’s Freshly Pressed.  Awesome.

PS Premier likes playing a song which I believe they are at least in part directing at me, and it’s a big part.  I can’t remember all the words I want, but it goes something like:

“I have come . . . down the road of my own mistakes . . . wasted years” etc.

For balance, I have to recognise that I am not their only intended audience, or at least I shouldn’t be.  They also play songs rejoicing and triumphing over enemies.

They say it is always your choice, and the bottom line is, that is true.  Sometimes the choice can cost you your life, and the church won’t be on your side.

It seems to me though to be a rather polarised approach to the human condition, including our spiritual condition. Blaming yourself for everything is no less the blame game than blaming other people.

I don’t know any more of this girl’s songs, but I hope that isn’t her settled position towards herself.  The Bible doesn’t mind saying that sometimes other people are to blame.

And the ‘blame game’ (I got that from Anne Coles).  Is it REALLY a game?  Isn’t it a necessary part of owning responsibility.

Blame isn’t a game, it really exists and needs to be dealt with in all healthy and growing relationships.  It is, or at least can be, a heartbreaking experience.  But surely nothing is more deadening to the soul and spirit than to live in a fuzzy, wooey, vibrating mulch where no one is allowed to recognise that blame exists, and also that it might not belong to them?

You can’t just say, ‘let’s not talk about it, let’s not play that game, let’s go and watch a film/go to a restaurant/go out witnessing.

Fuck me, you bloody can’t! (trans. I feel strongly about this and want to cry).

False Imprisonment

First posted 9.33 am UK time.

I can’t remember who does this now, but I know that Premier and other church broadcasters seem to do it.

They are making me believe that my neighbours in Bulgaria who have been showing knowledge of my situation in England without hearing it from me are Christians in touch with them and supported by them.  If that is true, this is a form of false imprisonment.  If it isn’t true and is a false suggestion, it is a form of inhibition and psychological imprisonment.

I often want to go to my neighbours, but, apart from the language problem which is a practicality I often forget, I don’t know where I stand with them or what is motivating their behaviour.

This really is psychological torture from everyone involved, and is deliberate, and illegal.  The policy seems to be hold her down, or make her THINK she is being held down, until she gives in and comes to us.  If she won’t come she’s a bad lot.

But for the invasiveness and breakdown in relationship, this house would be perfectly habitable.

Were Nick Clegg and David Cameron trying not to laugh in Parliament yesterday (1 hour in)?  It seemed to me that was why they looked so miserable, it was the only way they could not laugh.  Nick was suddenly sharp enough when someone called on his attention off left of screen.

Accepting the surreal makes idiots like me think they can do things they can’t, like walk out and sweep into No 10 or the palace, having easily secured the co-operation of those who could get them access, like the lovely reasonable policemen who would be on duty.  But of course we (the idiot brigade) can’t, and if we tried, even courteously, we would find ourselves stopped.  Maybe that is why there have been riots, because people have been acting on the impressions of surrealism.

I think trying to cajole me into humour in this situation is inappropriate.  They’ve known everything for years, including my efforts to be taken seriously in England.  If it IS about me (which it might not be), it seems to me that the only reason for their distress now is that another country is involved and aware of the situation.

Why can’t they ASK, directly?  Why can’t they say sorry?  Why do they rejoice and play with bits that I have written, but not make a proper and formal approach, and why can’t they do it openly instead of getting other agencies to act on their behalf, but not tell me that that is what is happening?  I am me, it appears they want me to be someone or something else.  Otherwise they could just tell me in an email or through the British Embassy what they wanted and ask me to come home so I can help them or whatever, if that is what they want.

I hold to this – if they can’t be open now, they won’t be open later.

Meanwhile sensitive people are locked up and tortured in the name of and with the aid of the mental health system.  For me, this is the beginning and the end and the middle of it.  That is where we start.  No change on that, then nothing to say, I’m afraid.

I know that seems unforgivably defiant, but have you seen the way they work?  This is nothing like an easy stance for me.  Both fear and responsibility keep me isolated and poverty keeps me limited.

And if I was stopped from boarding the plane because of ‘inelegance’ before, I am even more inelegant now, and still unable to cope with the stonewalling and every other manifestation of prejudice and discrimination.

I want to say yes, but the realities of the situation demand that I say no.

But if they really do want to talk to me as much as they seem to I feel honoured and privileged, and I hope that saying so might encourage them to approach me with a request rather than an appeal.

Edit note 11.59 am UK time:

Although I said I feel honoured and privileged, I have spoken as someone who has been a victim of collusion between the mental health system and other bodies, and as someone whose father committed suicide with this same experience at the end of his tragic life journey.  My sister also has had 3 children taken from her and been called mentally ill.

I said in an email to church leaders a few years ago, that I represented the victims of psychiatry.  I am not holding my country to ransom.  As I have said, they have known about this for years.  John Pantry, who also received the email, knows I have been sexually molested in church as a child, and even as an adult, because I said so in the email.  No acknowledgement of this has been made or any effort to redress it.

They posture as if they are the source of everything I say and therefore have a right to take what I say, either through my blog or hacking my computer and telephone calls, and put it all to the glory of the church and the government, and alternately whip me with my outsider status or invite me to join them.

There are many things about me that they have had no hand in and which have shaped me as a person in what I think and say.  This is rape all over again.  The morally impoverished stealing from the marginalised and disenfranchised. Taking the only means of survival of the people they destroy, making out they were bad neighbours but using what they do to strengthen the system.  Their system.  Please note.  Their system.  Not necessarily God’s system at all.

God the Holy System.

John Pantry, you are a monster.  You are a very, VERY evil person.  I’m listening to the recording, and what you were doing while I was writing this seems fairly obvious.

No, No, No.

Edit after post:

Someone should so something about this.  They all know it’s happening, and my past experience with all of them tell me they are not above manipulating me to this point of hysterical fear and distress to get me back into hospital and back into violent, bullying physical situations if I don’t co-operate with what they want.  I was stupid.  I let them drag me to the end of the show with their contemptuous fast talk, contemptuous of everything which is real religion.  If I had stopped earlier they would probably have crumbled and begun to lose control of their hand as they so often do, and things start coming out then in a way I can grasp and work with.  (end of edit).

I recorded the Premier Radio Breakfast Show yesterday, but I started late deliberately because I didn’t want to be subjected to the pointed, accusing and condemning prayer John Pantry starts with.  It seems to me he made a confession yesterday, maybe even a double one.  First confession, he is hacking my computer and knew I had started recording late.  The second is connected, he actually started talking humorously about missing the pointed prayer, or he might have said dealing with it.

I have a little felt storyboard in my head, connecting Harriet Harman and the red rodent story to Chris Evans, him of the red hair until when?  He is suddenly blond, at least in last Friday’s The One Show.  In the week leading up to Harriet’s comment, at the exact times in his show that I had just finished writing something he spiritually went into my personality to say he could have ended up in hospital, in a way which carried menace.

So both of them knew about the coincidence of these things, so they are both hacking my computer?  Does that still need to be posed as a question?  Chris, the silly twit (but quite sweet really) acted out his guilt by changing his hair colour.  Did he INTEND to give himself away so completely?

They ARE bending the airwaves to hate me at times like this.  It happens time after time.

Hilarity all round, me thinketh.  😉

PS  I’ve just tuned in at 7:49, as John has just said, and they are twitting me.  Esther Higham twits my personality all the time.  She is his co-presenter.   Seething, hateful mockery, young lady.

Her name is composed of two elements which are significant to me.  When I first realised that my phone was being hacked, I started reading the Book of Esther from the Bible down the phone.  A lot of Esthers came out of the woodwork at that time.

The second part  is her surname.  Higham.  I used to live in Higham Road in Tottenham at the same time that I was part of North London Community Church, led by John Singleton, and there was another part of the church which was connected to Highams Park.

They are using the word ‘sophisticated’ a lot, but to them that is not a positive word.  They were taking names and rising in their tone of voice with them, holding them just out of my reach, like teasing a dog.  Then John spews the word ‘news’.

I know no one is on my side anymore, but this all started, for me, with a very savage cut that was made by the worship time presenter, Mark Seddon, saying ‘God will whip you severely’, which I think they tried to pass off, truthfully or otherwise, as having been meant for other media agencies which they saw as attacking them.  It has been an on air media war, and when you know it is extremely painful to listen to, especially when they are dragging you personally around in it, but refuse to answer your emails, knowing that what they have already done has caused you such distress they have put you in hospital.

He just said Esther and John with you until 9 o’clock as if he was telling Esther that he was with her – or comminicating to me that I am totally disfellowshipped and isolated?  Doug Harris of Reachout Trust did this as well, on Martin Mitchell’s programme, but when I phoned him he denied it.  Martin is no longer a part of Premier, but it was so pointed he must remember.  They were talking about witchcraft and Anton LaVey (LeVey?).  I know what you are doing, John and Esther.  The Lord rebuke you.

People are dying.  They are trying to make me believe it is because I was so angry at one point in my life that I urinated on the church steps.   [Edit: It  makes me hysterical to say this.  I’ve already been treated with complete contempt because of it and I think that putting it ‘out there’ will make that worse.  I think everyone thinks I am disgusting, and that a special level of repentance is required from me which they might believe is not possible and wouldn’t even want to happen.  They want me to feel sullied and under them for the rest of my life.  When I see and hear how they act, I want to be free from them, I want nothing to do with them.  But what they do makes me feel unforgivably wrong for that, both in heaven and on earth, for eternity.   I can’t, emotionally, believe I am not.  In spite of the fact they are stalking me they would insist as my leaders this is just my emotions not catching up with what is true in heaven and not even view what they are doing as criminal.  This is why I didn’t leave the Pentecostal church as a child.  In spite of the fact that my experience of it, at least while I was in the building, was often so loveless, they had told us that they were the only church which preached the whole truth and if we didn’t believe the whole truth we would go to hell.  I stayed because I didn’t want to go to hell.  What is making it hard for me with John is that I ‘know’ his voice.  I don’t know where that quality is coming from but it has just occurred to me it might be from someone other than himself that I don’t know about.  They are making my mind and emotions say yes when I want to say no, just by the personal material they are using.  Their methods are abhorrent to me, but they have done this to me for years, and to whom else can I go?  I’m 50 in 2 weeks.  And they have raped my mind, my soul and my spirit.  I feel I can’t relate to anyone else].  That is where the constant ‘wee’ references come from.  At that point I had already been put in a mental hospital as a result of their clandestine accusations and stalking.  I really want to hurt these people because it is obvious to me that that is what they are trying to do to me.  They are swearing at me in the most disgusting way, but it is all in Christianese.  No one who didn’t know WOULD know.  I was being blanked, people were shaking their heads at me in church, filing past to do it, leaders, and turning away, and silent.   It was shocking and horrible.  That might even have been before my first hospital admission, and therefore before I hit back in a way which was a product of deep distress and trauma and dislocation more than anything else.

I said to Robb Thompson a few years ago, ‘I will not bow’.  I meant to them, not to God.  Since then they have used these methods to try and make me bow to them.  These criminal, vicious methods.  Even though I have apologised.  I mention that because either Esther or John just said something about not bowing, and as I typed this sentence someone clicked something in the studio, like an auditory intervention.  They want to keep me strung out.  And she has just this second come back to refusing to bow, and talked about release, and ducked out into a song, as they often do when it gets too hot for them.  She sounds very sweet talking about release, and inviting, but if it’s an invitation to me, they are only seeing this at the moment by hacking my computer.  They’ve used Twila Paris at me before, as well.  Is she the one they used to harass me, who sang something about ‘this day is drawing to an end, we’re running out of time, my friend.  There is so much I want to say.  I wish you’d see that there is a way’, then when I turned up on their steps they denied knowledge.?

Someone has just ‘inexplicably’ banged on my gate and shouted aggressively.  Whether this is a result of computer hacking here or a spiritual manifestation, it is disturbing.  I feel I am being silly and should just put my head out and speak to them, but I don’t speak their language.  But maybe I’m still being silly.  They are trying to make me believe this is a dangerous area.  To me at the moment it seems to me it is more likely just to be an angry area, and not without reason.  But their anger IS violent, banging and shouting always on cue to keep me dispossessed of what I begin to see and be able to formulate.  They go to the police and the MEDIA talks about them having gone to the police, but the police don’t approach me, and their behaviour towards me continues.

I just realised why they are using voice manipulation on me, and as I did, John went strict, and Esther picked up on it by talking about Strictly Come Dancing, she gasped as she saw what I was writing, and went into strict herself.  Unless they are so sensitive they pick up on this without needing to use a machine.  It IS a possibility, they know I know that, and that is a silent part of their taunting. By excluding me from this knowledge they make me feel as if I will be excluded from everything spiritual if I try to fight them.  And the persuasion of that is all in the voice.

They are using the voice manipulation because, when I was particularly distressed, a girl at St Barnabas came up to me and started talking like an idiot in my face.  We were friends, and at that point I had just had enough, so I did her voice back at her.  The next thing I knew, Premier presenters had hold of it and were talking about ‘dirty Katies’ for dedications, (her name is Katherine).  Esther has just placed her voice piping above me, trying to knock this out of my hands, and now she is laughing, pretending it is part of her conversation, and has set a deadline, knowing I want to finish this before they go off air.  I’ve been here before.  Or are they just keeping themselves going?  C S Lewis wrote a book called ‘That Hideous Strength’.  Just saying.  That’s what it reminds me of.  I can’t remember if I have read the book.

‘Dirty Katies’ was put to rest for years.  They have recently resurrected it.  But the awfulness of it is, knowing I am an extremely disturbed and vulnerable person, they have been weaving at me with the same thing they thought was so awful in me, for years (if they DID think it was awful).  If they think it was awful from me, what is it from them, mixed as it is with criminal stalking and taunting?  And anyway, leaders at St Barnabas had done exactly the same thing to me before that.  I didn’t realise it was supposed to be an aspect of relating which is only available to leaders.  At this point I don’t care if I’ve misunderstood.  This HAS been my understanding, and I shouldn’t have been kept in this position for years of having my head held under the water until I try to scream.  I shouldn’t have been put there in the first place.  John has just taken the controls again and said the lines are closed.  These people are complete bastards.  That is a Biblical term.  In its context it is not swearing.  Natch.

They are deliberately taking advantage of the fact that they know I believe I have no support anywhere, and no rights in any relationships.  That is particularly cruel, and because it is so obviously deliberate, if they DON’T realise that, we are in very dangerous hands.

They are sounding casual, but they are using a casual sounding vehicle to carry criticism and accusation, and making sure they are always just out of my reach.  Brian Reid, R T’s assistant at Westminster Chapel, did exactly the same thing to me physically once, stopping just short of physically dragging me around the courtyard on my hands and knees.  John, and Esther, I am breaking the frame, I am saying to you, you are unforgivable, and I wish I had not bothered with this and just broken the frame before.  You are disgusting, and had I done it before I could have seen you crumble, as you should.  The Lord, and your authorities, and common public decency, rebuke you.  As I know they do.  They are talking at a rate of knots.  It’s wrong and deliberate.  They’ve dragged me out to the end of their complete fucking programme, and done it with glee and deliberateness.  You scummy cunts.  And now Esther, this savage little bitch, this Christian mother, is taunting me because she knows I am afraid that if I post this this way, with the swearing and everything, my blog will be deleted.  But they have deliberately pushed for this.  They are going for my emotions and trying to make me believe they belong to them.  They don’t.  They have stirred them up and kept them alive by torture and stalking for years, over a decade.  They have appropriated my real sweetness to themselves and left me with their poison, and are making me feel there is no recovery without them.  John’s barefaced lying about freedom of speech and everything, even while he is reading this post before it is even posted, if it isn’t criminal, it should be enough to have him relieved of his Christian position and duties.  They fooled me with a false finish.  I saw 10:49 (here) as 10:59.  They want the power over my physical voice.  As a singer they know how closely that is related to the rest of me, and that if I don’t have the power of my own voice, that with all the other torture will be enough to incapacitate me and drive me mad.  Are they trying to teach me a lesson about insisting I am right and everyone else is wrong?  Do criminals have the right to teach that kind of lesson?  But in this no one could be more wrong than them, and no one could be more right than me.  I hurt all over and I feel sick.  There idea of ‘God’s generals’ is a man with a bull neck built like a tank.  That is the energy they are opposing against me now.  They want me to break and cry tom them, then they will heal me.  I want that too.  But if I don’t let them do that to me, they’d rather have me put in a mental hospital.

They’re shouting me down all the time.  If anyone terminates my blog because of this, then a plague on all your houses.  My emotion reached out to WordPress, to ask them to support me by keeping this blog active, and as it did, John and Esther opposed it.  I had this before, at Christmas, when I got to the end of my street to find myself faced with a pack of dogs which looked as if it might attack, and silently said, ‘Lord help me’, and as I did and continued to walk straight towards them they broke up and slunk off.  When I got home and listened to the recording, at exactly that time Dave Rose had opposed my prayer, then he seemed to realise what the situation had been, said it was a ‘Christian scream’, but he was very embarrassed and awkward in a way which accepted no responsibility and spent the rest of the programme trying to recover his own ground.

This also is a Christian scream, but I feel like a guilty and embarrassed dog that can’t meet anyone’s eyes, having been stared down and punished by so many guilty and defiant people.  WordPress is doing it too.  That’s why asking for help and for them not to delete my blog isn’t simple once the original impetus has been taken from me.  I’m going to seek solace and reordering of my mind in a nice cup of Ceylon tea.  Don’t do anything I don’t want you to do while my back is turned.  If you’re going to delete my blog or any part, let me save or migrate it first.  That is reasonable in any circumstances, and not to allow that in a situation like this would be inhuman.  It is that kind of action which drives desperate people to desperate things.  In my own case I am only thinking in terms of suicide, sooner or later.  Or the rest of my life lived in unbearable pain.  You need to consider that before you commit the cyber murder of deleting someone’s blog without notice and not letting them have a copy of what is theirs and might be legally essential for them to have.  That is taking the law into your own hands.  I should not have to beg and plead to not be deleted.

Songs of Praise, Albert Hall Big Sing

Look, I’m sorry, but there is a legally powerful label which has been put on me here, mental illness in the form of schizophrenia, and you people are consciously using the stuff of my life and not removing the label, and I’m not sure what is going on in your minds or how you validate either your reasoning or what you are doing.  I saw Aled’s startled reaction when he sang at the end about humble adoration in How Great Thou Art, it was a very caught out look and, I believe, obviously significant, having been there myself, as we all have.  He looks a lot like John Pantry these days, I’m wondering what the connection is, I’m sure there must be one.  What on earth does he think he is doing?  There is no excuse for this, at all.  It is sick, and no wonder I am.

Russell Watson shares my birthday.  I’m not sure when his career started, the first I knew I heard him on the James Whale show.  But he shares my birthday.

I listened to Clyde Sandry at the Christian Centre this morning, and realised he is using my voice.  Also the bits that jar, I’ve decided that is where they jump on to the next thing without making an adequate vocalised connection, probably because to do so would expose too much.  As I listened this morning I thought, ‘oh yeah?  What is that bit you haven’t said, then?’

They started emphasising the big sing as soon as I left London.  I used to sing in my flat and I was abused by my neighbours.  Now suddenly they have decided that getting everyone singing is the answer, and not the stuff of nuisance neighbours.  But that was my point, the point of someone whose life depended on it.  These people are just using it to further their careers and standing among the people they want approval from, and leaving me, the person who insisted on it at the risk of my own liberty and body, out in the cold unless I respond to their voices and commands.

I feel like the host here.  I have nothing of my own left, no voice, no life, no nothing, because these birds of the air have been utilising it for years.

All of these people’s talking up and words of affirmation do not make the thing or activity they affirm right.  And their faces shine like the sun, but it is a bit sick and watery these days, if you ask me, and I hope people will see through that and start asking questions.  Study their faces.  Look at all the guilty shifting of their eyes.  Tell me I’m wrong.

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