Tag Archive: psychic phenomena


A Funny Day

I’ve been staying in a hotel recently.  Today I went to see my mum.  People kept looking at me and grinning, or just staring.  Don’t ask me, no idea!  It happens a lot recently.  Dare I say that?  The mental health services always used to say that if I thought people were staring at me it was a paranoid idea.  Hence for some time I tried to live in denial of it happening and if it did, pretend it wasn’t.  These days, at the very least, I look straight at it without being overwhelmed with fear.  Sometimes I get angry and offended.  I can get really freaked out by it, when it happens all the time.

Two things happened when I got back to the hotel, the first was in the hotel and the second was in the Chinese cafe.  I’ll do the Chinese cafe first.

I went to have dinner in a Chinese cafe round the corner from my hotel.  After I had been there a few minutes I noticed it was all Chinese people eating there.  That made me feel good for two reasons, I like Chinese people, and they say that if a place like a Chinese restaurant has a lot of people from that country and culture there it speaks well of the food.

I was a bit freaked by what started happening after I had been there about 5 or 10 minutes.

Two women walked in and sat at the table opposite me.  They were NOT Chinese.  I’m not going to start talking about their ethnicity in case someone decides to accuse me of racism, and I did think that might be my problem.

At some point I started to sing quietly, either before they came in or after, I can’t remember, because I was feeling a bit nervous.  I find it very easy to feel nervous at the moment, especially when I am with people I really want to like me.  The woman facing me made a dismissive face, then went on to completely ignore me.  She started to talk to her companion and I got the impression there was something false about her voice, and she sounded to me as if she was making aggressive utterances in a soft tone.  At that point I thought I might be being racist.  She had an unchanging smile on her face and I felt annoyed by it, I really felt it was false.  Anyway, I settled myself about it and came to my own terms over it.  Every time I relaxed she said ‘my god’.  I hate this, it happens to me a lot, and I really believe there is a spiritual dynamic to it.  It feels like a prohibition to me, or like something grabbing at me.  In the end I ignored her and started to engage with other people, at first just with a smile, then in a couple of conversations with people either side of me.

The second conversation lasted about 10 or 15 minutes and I found it thoroughly interesting.  The subject of the unconscious came up, and the man was talking about Lacan, a name I remember from when I studied (on and off!) for my English degree but about whom I remembered very little if anything.  If I remember, the man talking to me said something about reality structures.  We moved on to other things as well, had a very pleasant conversation and laughed a bit, and I began to feel really relaxed and playful.  This must have come across in my voice, I felt it did, and the same woman, who had now been joined by a group, as I began to relax into speaking again loudly said ‘my god’ again.  I kept talking, compensating for my discomfort and annoyance by going very posh, but still laughing and joking and enjoying my conversation.  Even when she couldn’t see or hear me, after the man and his girlfriend had gone (actually, apart from this group opposite me, the man I was talking to was the only non-Chinese there apart from me, he was Greek, his girlfriend was Chinese), she still kept pelting out a ‘my god’ when I relaxed, and I in my little corner got annoyed and said just loudly enough to be heard, ‘medium’.  I do things like that, I am so vulnerable and get so freaked and desperate I don’t know what else to do with it, often.  This is a recent thing, since I started having problems at home.  When I eventually got up and paid the bill I heard several of them saying, over a few seconds, a word that sounded like ‘witch’ or ‘bitch’.  They kept repeating it.  It was freaky.  Apart from the ‘my god’ stuff they had appeared as sweet as you like up until that point.  I won’t say what I did with it, but I ignored them and focused on a friendly departure with the staff.  I don’t know who they were, or if they had deliberately followed me in (I’m sure it happens), but I think their behaviour was frightful, darlings!  It was so frightening, looking back.  I felt really harassed and targeted and couldn’t believe my ears.

Anyway, that was the second thing that happened tonight.  The first thing happened when I got back to my hotel room.  I came in feeling a bit cross and agitated, and I began to sing, in tongues.  At least, it wasn’t English, and it had a bit of a Native American feel to it, or something like that, I’m not too sure what I’m talking about.  It wasn’t the gently lilting, softly flowing stuff you sometimes hear, there was more production to it, it was coming from my gut and it carried my emotions and resolved them.  The next thing I knew I experienced something different from anything I had experienced before.  The domestic had left the bathroom door open, and suddenly the light, which was not switched on, began to flash on and off, several times.  That was how I got into the conversation with the man who talked about Lacan.  He and his girlfriend were looking at the tv screen the other side of me and laughing.  I turned to them and asked if they understood it, he said no, then said something about ghosts being big in Chinese culture, and I told him what had happened with my singing and the light.  He started talking about the unconscious and dreams, I asked him if he didn’t believe in the spirit world that can act independently of our unconscious and told him a story about Carl Jung, whose work I have been reading for a few months.  I’ve started from the beginning of the collection, apart from a look at one long essay further in at the beginning.  I am in the middle of a case study of a teenage girl who seemed to have abilities as a medium, though he did say that in the end she was found to be faking, but I’m not sure if he thought it was all fake.  At this stage he put the apparent phenomena and personality changes during seances down to manifestations of her unconscious.  I’m not sure if he continued to think like that, though.  Because I have read that later he thought his house had spirits in it.  I remember one story I read about him where his doorbell rang continuously on at least one occasion and he could see the doorbell’s mechanism, inside the house, moving and working.  Yet when he went to the window to see who was there, no one was, and at the same time the bell stopped ringing.  Not sure where tonight’s experience fits in with that, but that’s what it reminded me of.

OK, that’s it.  An abrupt ending, but I can’t think of anything else I want to say.  I feel a little raw and weird!

Advertisements

Blog Post I Promised My Facebook Friends

THIS IS QUITE A LONG BLOG POST.  I HOPE SOME OF YOU WILL PERSEVERE WITH IT.  THANKS IN ADVANCE.  I VALUE MY READERS.  I VALUE MY ‘STALKERS’ TOO.  IN FACT I WANT TO SAY THANK YOU SO MUCH TO ALL OF YOU.

 

I’ve just been out to Waitrose, and had some lunch, so I’m not in quite the same emotional space I was in when I posted on Facebook this morning.

Last Thursday I posted on Facebook about This Morning.  I said how it started with a house in Lewisham falling down and Holly Willoughby saying Oh my God, and said that I used to live in Lewisham, and that that juxtaposition between OMG and things I identify as having something to do with me or others I know or have known is common.

I looked back at the programme this morning.  Last week it was full of significance for me, as I believed that references were being made to things I had written on Facebook.  But because things have moved on a bit since then, today I couldn’t really remember the connections I made then.

A few weeks ago, 22nd May, to be exact, the anniversary of my father’s death by overdose, I posted a life event about my dad on Facebook.  I had been aware of things on the media that I believed to have been connected with me before this date.

This year, 22nd May was a Sunday.  Dr R T Kendall of Kensington Temple these days, formerly of Westminster Chapel, with both of which I had had a difficult relationship leading up to my first admission onto a psychiatric ward, preached a sermon titled ‘The Party’s Over’.  Retrospectively, he had probably prepared that sermon, and named it, at least a few days before he preached.  But I thought that it was sympathetically connected with my life event post.  Maybe it was, maybe he knew about the post before it was posted this year.  I’ve had it for at least one anniversary before.

Anyway, he was mentioned people in the media, in general, but naming categories.  He also talked about Daniel and Nebuchadnezzar, I think, about vessels having been taken from the temple and used for common purposes, and that that angered God.  One of the things he said was something about the wearing of purple, a royal and priestly colour.  I can’t remember much more than that, but the sermon can be found here.

I felt emotionally involved with this sermon at first because, right at the beginning, he looked straight into the camera and said ‘identify with Daniel’.  I thought he was talking to me, supportively, because in my post I had said that many times in my life I had identified with my father.  I’ve watched that sermon twice now, and I have noticed that that beginning has been cut off.

I’ve said before that I think I’m being stalked.  The people involved might not like my use of that term, but that is what it is.

Anyway, the next day, 23rd May, on This Morning, people were looking around nervously.  I can’t remember anything very much, but I can remember that, at the end of the programme, Rylan Clark-Neal said that they were compromised. Holly Willoughby coughed, it seemed to me significantly.  I didn’t think it was worth mentioning, because it all seemed too obvious and easily explained.  The same day, talking about wearing purple, I watched the BBC1 East Midlands news at 6.30pm, and they were all wearing purple, and one of the newsreaders said that she didn’t know why, but they had all been told to wear purple that day.  It seemed to me obviously connected.

At first, I felt personally attacked by this, and it made me feel angry and alarmed.  Later I thought, it’s just a fight between secular and religious media, and nothing to do with me except for my own identification and recognition  (Neither side wanted me involved.  Neither side really cared about me, if they did they would tell me so through normal, committed communication like an email or a phone call.  And they didn’t, and don’t). I thought that Kensington Temple was being paranoid and alarmist over what might be seen as a quite ordinary referential challenge.  It was just a media scrap, if they didn’t like it, they didn’t have to watch, they could just get on with the job without taking notice of their detractors.  But I wrote to them, through their website, and among other things, asked if Dr Kendall wanted to see me.  They didn’t even answer.  I found that rude, and it made me anxious.  So many times I make contact and get no answer.  These days I am reasonable and try to be friendly, and they don’t even answer that, except in pointed and contextualised references in their sermons and radio programmes.

Anyway, briefly back to This Morning of 9th June.  When I watched it again today I felt much of what they were doing was making metaphors.  Recently Holly makes me laugh, I find her quite amusing, but I feel also she is quite vicious.  The Old Testament says, ‘don’t be afraid of their faces’.  I have felt intimidated by her apparent sweetness, but she says some horrible things behind that.  I have expressed anxiety about writing openly about what I think for fear of being put back on medication, and in this programme she was talking about someone and hospital, and it came up twice, and both times she made a face and said ‘Oh no’, and I felt it was cruel mockery aimed at me.

(My, this is draining!  For one thing, the WordPress writing frame keeps slipping upwards so it looks as if my post has disappeared.  I keep imagining it might be someone hacking while I am writing and trying to disrupt me.  In truth it is probably a software issue.  I hope so anyway.)

I was just looking for something in Monday 13th’s episode of This Morning.  I started watching from the beginning, and when I got to about 33 minutes 40 seconds in, where they are talking about rain with someone who predicts weather (I thought he was a gardener, but he seems to be more than that) Holly quite deliberately shouted ‘woohoo’, and I thought she had got it out of the post on Facebook which I posted on Saturday, in fact I’m quite sure she did.  But that wasn’t what I was looking for.  What I was looking for came up a few minutes later, after 37 minutes 40 seconds in . . .

I had an experience with someone who came to repair my boiler a few weeks ago.  At the end of repairing my boiler we had a conversation in the kitchen over coffee and a biscuit (one of my own home made ones), and everything he said, every place name, had significance for me.  I can only remember two of them, but I just kept nodding along at him thinking ‘Oh yes, there’ and Oh yes, there’.  The two I remember are Middlesbrough and Toronto, both places where Church ministers from my past came from.  But it wasn’t just two places, it was many.  Anyway, I was watching Monday 13th’s episode of This Morning and I had the strong impression that Holly just had one of those moments.  The man she and Phillip Schofield were talking to said something like ‘I’m OK, I’ve got form’.  I heard that and it felt like a revelation, and I stared at Holly and I thought she reacted.  I just watched it again and it doesn’t seem so marked now right at that point, but at the end of the interview Holly’s eyes are like saucers.  I think she might have said something similar behind the scenes.  Or someone did.  Perhaps.  I’ve even thought things like that myself when I’ve watched KT live, that I’m OK, I don’t have to give in.  It’s a great bit of power tripping.

Tea break.

When I was in Bulgaria between 2009 and 2011, I started hearing a woman’s voice from the flat upstairs, so it seemed, shouting hallelujah.  It drove me wild.  It was almost incessant, and I would rant and rave using Google Translate, which isn’t very reliable.  It or my reaction or both made me very ill.  I used to have chest pains and vomiting.  It happened in a few places, always directly where I was living, never followed me away from the building.  Which is partly why I wonder if it really was an hallucination, as my psychiatrists insisted.  It came to the attention of the psychiatrists because I started hearing the same thing when I was in emergency accommodation in Nottingham, and I called the police several times.  Once I turned them away because I thought they were rude to me. Eventually, the police called the mental health team, and one of the officers who turned up with the team was the one who was rude to me.  He was quite controlling on the scene.

Anyway, about 2 or 3 months ago, not having experienced it for quite some time, I started to hear a woman’s voice saying hallelujah again, and it seemed to be coming from next door.  It only lasted for two weeks.  This time I didn’t rant and rave.  I also didn’t believe it was an hallucination.  I believed it was some sort of spiritual manifestation, the source of which I was uncertain.  I was alternately angry at it, scared of it, desperate, grateful.  I prayed that it would stop.  After it did, I felt as if I had lost something, it was like grief.  Just towards the end of it I tuned in to Kensington Temple’s live service one afternoon when Bruce Atkinson was speaking.  He was talking about the woman who came to Jesus for her daughter to be healed.  She wasn’t Jewish, and Jesus told her He had only been sent to Israel, and it wasn’t right to give the children’s bread to dogs.  I kept hearing things I identified with from my experience at KT, and I was inwardly holding on, asking God to help me, as well as arguing with what I was seeing and thinking it wasn’t that impressive, as Bruce kept talking and staring into the camera, as if something kept drawing him to it.  They put a version of that sermon on the website, but it wasn’t that version.  In the version on the website Bruce seems to be trying to avoid looking at the camera.  I think it was the next week that Colin Dye came on, and at the beginning of the recording he looked into the camera and gave a little smile, and started talking about quantum physics, and how he didn’t understand it, but came back to art.  I thought he was talking about ME coming back to art in posting William Blake’s ‘The Sick Rose’ on my blog.  I don’t know, they seem to have used things from my blog before.

At some point after this, I think, he said that ‘they are going to start using dogs with her, I wonder how she will deal with that’ or some such words.  Shortly after this Phillip and Holly, having experienced something strange, I think, in the studio (can’t sound too definite, they might put me away again.  Even for this they might put me back on medication.  I’m taking a big risk), started to feature Clover, their guide dog in training, a lot.  I had been watching live, I think, then I started watching on ITV +1, an hour behind.  One day, Phillip started commanding the dog to sit.  He did this right at the beginning and exactly an hour into the programme.  He looked frightened, to me.  Once when he did this one of the light bulbs blew.  I know this can be what some people call a psychic occurrence.  I had a music teacher who became a bishop, and I read an article about him which said he walked into a room and things happened with the electricity.  Phillip, whether he made the connection or not, just said that bulbs blew all the time.  I made the connection, though.  I might have been wrong myself, but it was some coincidence, if I was.  One day, he looked into the camera and stuttered over the word ‘superfood’, orsomething else beginning with the first syllable of my name.  I thought it was a deliberate stutter and that he was trying to say ‘Sue’.  I’ve thought about it since, and decided he could have had anything in mind.  He might have been thinking ‘supernatural’, for instance.  Or it might just have been a nervous, meaningless stutter.  I’ve not heard him stutter before though.  (To my nurses, there is a history behind these assumptions I don’t want to go into, this post is going to be long enough without that.  I’m wondering if I’m ever going to get to the end of it).

I saw they were distressed, and thought they were trying to help me.  So I tweeted Phillip one day and said I felt for them and was touched by the fact they were trying to help me, or words to that effect, and that I thought the reason for their distress was that they were doing something occultic with the Clover, and asked who she represented when he commanded her like that.  He said a few times he didn’t know what I was going on about and that I was talking nonsense, and ended up saying, ‘I’m sure you are really sweet, but you are now blocked’.  And that was that.  I think what he was doing with Clover, occultic or not, was because he was afraid of something else.  I was angry about something I had seen on the show and something they were promoting as normal which I believe shouldn’t be, and I think my anger had what might be called by some a psychic energy which was holding them in a bad place.  I wouldn’t let go for some days and was pleased at every sign that they seemed to be losing it.  I have wanted to apologise for that several times.  I thought the right way would have been to keep watching and complain to Ofcom if I didn’t like something I saw.  Within a day or 2 of me thinking that, Phillip came on laughing and said they gave Ofcom plenty of business.  I don’t think it was a simple coincidence.  Anyway, dogs abounded after that.  Andrea McLean on Loose Women, which I also watch, reacted to a bark a few weeks ago by saying something like, ‘that’s right, take it out, we don’t want any accidents’.  It wasn’t a real dog, obviously, it was a miked up bark, staged.  It felt psychologically violent.

On This Morning they were celebrating Clover’s first birthday on Monday, and had a load of dogs in.  I happened to turn on, on ITV +1, at just the time when they appeared for the 2nd time.  The first time was just after Piers Morgan and someone else had been on with Holly and Phillip talking about Orlando, but I hadn’t seen that.   I just saw the dogs let loose, and lost the plot.  I didn’t take anything else in after that.

The Monday before they had featured Mersea, where John Pantry lives, who works at Premier Radio and used to be one of my Facebook friends.  Fairly soon after they showed someone called the same name that came up for me while listening to another radio presenter quite a few years ago.  I can’t remember what motivated me, but after I saw the dogs this Monday, I wrote an email to both John Pantry and Colin Dye, telling them about this.  I thought something might need to be done about it, and that they needed to watch the recording, before it was taken down.  In the end, it was there until midnight.  In the meantime, I was uncertain as to whether or not John and Colin would receive the email in time, so I sent it to the live studio as well.  Then I regretted it, and sent a copy of the email and its forwarding to someone else I had emailed over the weekend, because I thought he was in touch with the person I had mentioned in the email and I wanted to warn and protect that person.  Later I thought that, really, my trust was a dubious honour, and possibly overpowering for this person (I also thought that, in the state I was in, I was making far too much of what I had seen and heard, and he thought I was nuts and he wasn’t interested.  I thought Premier and Kensington Temple would have the same opinion.  Maybe they do).  He didn’t email me back.  I don’t know why he did this, but he told Phillip and Holly, because I had mentioned them in the email.  On Tuesday Holly was cavorting all over the screen with veiled references to this email, and she also mentioned someone who had lost a couple of stones and her friends asked her if she was putting it back on, then she did this really violent jerk with her arm, and I felt terrified.  I have mentioned on Facebook that I have lost weight, and I thought she was cursing me.  I thought she was a witch in full flight.  At the end of the recording, totally distracted and barely able to focus, I tried to reorientate myself by posting a link to a radio play, then I went to bed, still frightened, then after I got into bed, I started to laugh.  I felt loved up.   I felt amazing.  Holly had been smiling all the time she was doing this.  That was when I started to find her funny.  I thought last Thursday that the way she opened her eyes wide and batted her eyelids was false and I hated it and I hated her, but I found if I did the same it cleared my perceptions and negative feelings.  I can’t remember if that was before or after Tuesday.  Anyway, the loved up and laughing bit, I felt it was inappropriate given the nature of what I had communicated in my email.  I tried to put a stop to it.  Then yesterday, on Loose Women, Ruth Langsford, who is also a This Morning presenter, said that she was ‘ashamed’ of something, and coughed significantly.  I hadn’t said that I felt ashamed in the email to Premier Radio and Colin Dye at Kensington Temple, but I had to this other person.

In the email I had said that I thought they were after me and the Church, and that all was fair in love and war.  On Tuesday, Dara O’Briain was on with Hugh Dennis, on This Morning again, and they were both grinning from ear to ear, and one of them said, ‘she thinks it’s fair’.  One of them said something about open heart surgery.  For me, that was a bit what it was like, I suppose.

I’ve been thinking, though.  When I said all’s fair in love and war, I didn’t mean things like stalking someone’s social media account to reflect back to them, especially when that person isn’t in the public eye.  I have thought I was willing to tolerate it (Stockholm Syndrome?), but what about other individuals who are also not public people who are experiencing the same thing?  I keep thinking it’s not about me, and being relieved every time I think it.  However, I think I am wrong.  They even mentioned a road that has the same beginning of its name as mine yesterday, and put quite an emphasis on it.  I have 2 neighbours, one partially sighted and the other who goes around bare chested.  References to them were put together in Sunday Brunch this week (Channel 4), as was a reference to my email that I sent on Saturday, and a comment about someone having the heart of a dog, and emotional looks.  I sent the presenters a chat message saying they had spoken to the man I emailed and goodness knows who else, and asked them what they wanted and where we were going.  According to my Facebook account, they haven’t even looked at it yet.  It has been going on with them for some time.  On Pentecost Sunday they featured meditation and a linguist talking about languages and making them up.  OK, if they want to, they can fight like that, it’s not illegal.  But they had Michaela Strachan on recently, someone who is a friend of this presenter I listened to years ago and met a few times.  The first time was good, the rest he pretended not to remember me.  Yet he sat and talked with me in his car for half an hour and drove me to the station.  His wife remembered me, though.  I was telling my nurse Pete yesterday, that the last time I went she tore me off a strip, took my phone number and said her husband would be in touch if he was interested.  I’ve decided not to go back as they obviously don’t want to know.  Although I would like to believe differently, I see the constant songs and references that I associate with him and his calling me as being chain yanking.  And as lovely as I think he is, I think he deliberately used to torture me psychologically.  I think he had ‘psychic’ insight into me as well, particulars at particular times.  I used to feel we had telepathic communication, he would often come on his programme saying something I felt we had shared telepathically earlier in the week.  He used to talk about his dog.  I used to think it was a backwards way of saying ‘my God’, and I was offended.  I also thought he was referring to me, as often when I tuned in he would start talking about walking his dog, immediately.  So the dog reference is not a new one.  One day I lay in bed listening to him with my back to the radio, because I felt closer to him and more able to listen that way.  He said, ‘my dog has started turning its back on us, it feels closer to us that way’.  I think something I said once is being used as emotional blackmail.  I think Ruth Langsford referred to it yesterday on Loose Women when she was ostensibly talking about her son Jack, and talking about apologising.  I already have, and meant it.  I wish I wanted to again.  I have recently been willing to open up to the possibility of meeting him again.  In my mind, there is a war between him and the Church.  But until recently I had decided I had moved on from him, that he had deliberately abused me, and that I was wrong to look to him in the first place.  But the fact is, I took a resting place with him when there was absolutely no way I could hold myself together in Church and didn’t feel safe going.  It wasn’t rebellion, it was respite.  That’s how it felt, anyway.  Once I was afraid even to speak, and there was no way I could have written like this, or tweeted, or gone on Facebook.  I doggedly (sorry, no pun intended, I can’t think of the other word) took the tools and attitudes he offered and rebuilt my ability to communicate.  I feel, rightly or wrongly, that I owe him.  Defiantly, was the word I was looking for.

In the meantime, I haven’t heard from Kensington Temple following this email, or from John Pantry or anyone else at Premier.  In the email I said to John that I had got the impression that he wanted to be involved.  On his show the next day he said ‘you can be involved’, then started talking about bipolar, I think it was, putting together a reference to what I had said with a reference to ‘mental illness’.  I feel if I go back to Church, it’s something I am going to have brought against me every time I’m perceived to be out of line.  I think Premier is withholding programme recordings as well.  I unfriended John last Friday because he was answering things I put on his timeline then, when I answered, he cleared them off.  I felt hurt by this so unfriended him, I thought it was against me.  I have since thought he might just be one of those people who likes to keep a tidy timeline and does the same thing with a lot of people.  But anyway, Monday’s Inspirational Breakfast is not available.  The other week they had almost a total lockdown on programme availability, they have since restored some, but not all.  I emailed a show the other week, and I later looked for the recording so I could listen back (the man read my email out and commented on it), but it isn’t available.  I asked both John Pantry and Rick Easter, both Premier presenters who were Facebook friends until I unfriended them, if they knew what was happening with the programme recordings and why they were not available, and John cleared the question off his timeline without answering, not even to say he didn’t know, and Rick just ignored the question.  I don’t know who they are hiding from.  There is definitely something going on.

I have said for years that I don’t want to be in a Church that calls the police on people and accepts psychiatric labels against people’s wishes.  I have heard a lot about good disagreement lately on Premier, and other stuff like that.  Teaching children to manage their emotions and emphasising that you are there for them and will handle it together, instead of focusing so much on the idea of discipline.  Hearing that kind of thing, it’s making me feel that it is I who am being a terrorist in my refusal to go to a church where the police might be called, that I am the one who is using emotional and spiritual blackmail.  I feel all my years lost in my life and in the Church are all my own fault.  At one time I was so confused by the fact that all the wards had Biblical names, I thought my answers were all to be found in hospital.  That’s where I would recover my power of self-determination (watch this come up in a sermon).  And yet, I know the Church has been – stalking me, I call it, I don’t know what they call it – for years.

It’s just occurred to me, I don’t know how the programmes that have featured references to my road name and allusions to my neighbours have got the information,  I haven’t said anything about either in my blog.  The blind allusion has come up several times, I’ve only this week noticed the one about bare-chestedness.  I don’t think, again, that it is simple coincidence.

I think yesterday morning, on Inspirational Breakfast, John said something about not being too cruel, she is vulnerable.  I thought that was for me.  But my goodness, I wish they would realise that their refusal to answer my emails properly makes me feel most vulnerable of all.  It messes with my head and perceptions big time.

When I was in hospital last time I got involved with the chaplaincy service.  One day I spoke to the alternative religion person who said to me that sometimes coincidences come so thick and fast and from so many directions, there has to be a big intelligence behind it and it can’t be by human organisation.  I took that and believed it.  But now I’ve married it to a renewed belief that I am also, as I have maintained before, being stalked.

The fact that I have done something wrong does not make it OK to abuse me.  Once I believed it was OK, the stalking, the being called a dog, the psychological abuse (but Oh, how grateful I sometimes thought I was).  But now, I usually have more self-respect.  If that makes me appear cynical and unfeeling to the people who have received my emails recently, I am sorry.  I know desperation can make people do some terrible things, and I hesitate to say that those I say are stalking me are the cynical ones, but it does feel that way sometimes.  Yesterday I wanted to contact Colin Dye and say, ‘I thought they loved me, but they don’t, do they?’  I wouldn’t dare though.  I can’t bear more words coming through my computer and no response to my emails.  But I will bear it.  The alternative is a vacuum.  To some that might be peace.  It is to me sometimes, but most of the time I think I can’t live like that.

Well, it is 7.30 pm and today’s This Morning is not available yet.  That is very unusual.  It is normally there by 4 pm.  (edit note: eventually it appeared around 10 am the day after I wrote this post).

Down Time

I am hijacking my blog with complaints about staff and such like, and I think I would like a change of direction.

A few weeks ago I made some notes in my notebook.  I looked at them briefly (that is, the first note), and decided against putting them all up here.  They had been intended for my blog at the time.

One thing I was thinking at that time is that I am honouring the wrong writing voice (for the sake of psychiatric staff reading, many writers recognise more than one voice.  There is a play by Pirandello called ‘Six Characters In Search Of An Author’.  It is something like that and doesn’t call for medication.  They are writing voices, not psychotic voices, whatever psychotic is supposed to mean).  I recognise at least two voices that present as – one a motivation for writing, one a source.  The one I had been ‘honouring’ was a ‘yatter, yatter, yeah, critical’ one.  A follow and reproduce one, not a source.  I felt the one I needed to honour was more grounded and sprang out  of an emotional/devotional relationship to God and love for others.  I’m not sure, in fact I know that I have not always succeeded in going with that perception or even in always believing it to have been valuable.

I will write a few of the notes I made, especially after having put this one in writing.  Some of them were made with my blog in mind, others with my psychologist.  Also I was thinking about Terry at the time, because he had recently given me some time that meant a great deal to me.

~~~//~~~

“My lecturer, on a day like the one I’m having today, said there was a lot of ‘id’ around . . . This always seems to happen when I feel inspired and best able to express myself . . . Everybody around me seems artificially happy and deliberately uncaring.  I’m even feeling as if some people are being deliberately obstructive.  I’m sitting in a cafe trying to write”.

(I then drew a line in a different place and started again with . . .)

“I know I’m not mimicking anyone”.

“The staff are supposed to be here for us, not themselves and each other.  But the way they misbehave then lie about it or get evasive shows they are basically here for themselves”.

“Thoughts, staring, fear and outrage – grief” (That is, when I get a thought I want to let run and chase where it is going, people stare at me, I feel fear and outrage which I suppose to be grief because the inspired thought is stopped).

“Honouring the wrong voice.  Writing voice – spirit”.

“Jim said ‘come on’ when letting me out of the door.  I said ‘no, I’m not a dog’.  Possible misinterpretation of what meant as affectionate support.  Bless him”.

“I love Jim – I enjoy his smile when he sees me”.

“Kiran – mimicry, bubble – I vulnerable, she not – shameless, barefaced liar’OK’ – no – slander and perjury.  She is beautiful and her eyes are full of light – makes me feel i shouldn’t have a problem with it – Mimicry, copying, matching – why is she doing it – I have a right to know – don’t I?”.

“I think the problem here might just be culture shock – I’m not used to Nottingham, I’m from London.  When I’m out I hear quite a few people talk like the nurses”.

“Robb Thompson – what did he say that I just thought of?”.

“My shame is their shame.  Voice?”

“Terry – the way he looked at me – my glory and the lifter of my head” (It was intelligent, appreciative and kind, not to say tender.  That look has passed now.  I kept wanting it again, or somehow to retrieve something it communicated and made me feel.)

The last thought was as far as I got sitting in the hotel restaurant drinking whatever it was at the time.  The rest was on the Arboretum a couple of hours before seeing my psychologist.

I was feeling afraid in the Arboretum for some reason of what people might be thinking of my sensitivitiies as manifested by my body language and wrote this next comment:

“Most of the time our heads are so full of our own thoughts we might not notice the sights and sounds around us, unless for some reason we have become particularly sensitised”.

“William Blake – damn braces, bless relaxes” (I had received that as braces are to be damned, relaxes are to be blessed.  But in recent months, if not years, I have thought of it as ‘damn’ causes you to brace yourself, and ‘bless’ causes you to relax, more often than not, for both giver and recipient).

“This nervousness and ‘no’-screaming resistance when I write like this for a meeting (comments missed out, quite personal) is just anxiety and self-censorship and I needn’t pay it any attention.  I don’t need to worry about its impact on the other person or fear lack of efficacy when notes eventually become communication.  If it serves as nothing else it can serve as a seed or launching pad for later exploration.  What matters is that we trust each other”.

~~~//~~~

I cut my notes a little early, basically I got bored and didn’t feel the others were going anywhere.  I’m bored with it now.  I might come back to this post later and fill in the end gaps.  One thing I said was that I’m not available to people – I’m walking around in a stupid cloud of fear and trauma.  I feel raw and unprotected, undefended.  That was then.  Sometimes it is now as well.

Out here writing from notes feels better than trying to think as I go, but the notes I wrote this entry from were all written in public.  I have given up the idea of ever having a home where I feel at peace and have any degree of privacy.  I feel open to everyone against my will, and it isn’t only because of my blog.  I still feel there are psychic connections between my concentration and disturbances when I am on my own in a room and disturbances happen nearby.  I’m not sure which is the cause and which the effect, but it seems to work that way, much more often than not.

BBC World News again.

I’ve had a really rough day today.  Every day is rough, my neighbours never let up, but today was worse.

I said a lot of things through Google Translate, which I think is sometimes not that accurate anyway.  I also started to draft a post which I didn’t finish because my poor broken open, fragile mind and psyche had another shotgun hallelujah screeched into it by mad motormouth neighbour-mother. I even told her today that in my opinion she needed either to go to the police or get psychiatric treatment, and that I didn’t believe in psychiatry, just to emphasise how extreme her behaviour is and how much I felt she needed to take some action.  She often acts as if she is out of her mind.  And I don’t say that kind of thing, so something has broken down in me somewhere.

After saying that if they pray and also harass their prayers are also illegal, I switched BBC World News on and it was a special news report on prisoners of an uprising.  I don’t know if it was Libya or not, to show how little I was able to concentrate.  I remember one of the reporters said people were screaming and that it was one of the worst things he had ever seen, and that he had seen some pretty bad things.  I thought how often I react to reporters as if they are freshers with no relationship with people they interview and no understanding between themselves and the interviewee, even if they fight on screen like cat and dog.  I noticed the ears of one of the guys, they seemed to be translucent and letting through a red light from behind.  I’ve never seen ears like that.

But I was fagged out and tired.  I had just fought a battle with my neighbours for my legal right to not be harassed and felt I had made a positive step forward in asserting my right to live here in peace.  But I was tired and questioning myself and, while the television was on, I was working through the questions and how much of what I had said (ranted, thrown across the line) I had meant and was right and needed to be said, and I wasn’t really listening, it was just there, a relaxing, comforting hum in the background while I sorted my mind and feelings out.  I was calming down and feeling more settled and relaxed and happy with things (some people would say I shouldn’t have been, but that isn’t the point of this post) when Jamie’s tone started to take on significance and he emphasised ‘slow down’ or ‘slowing down’, and I looked up into his eyes feeling my attention had been forced onto him and away from my own thoughts and he had lifted up one of his fingers and was doing a hypnosis type movement with it, in front of the eyes, and because I was watching and because of everything else that has already gone, I thought he was doing it at me.  He was doing it at the camera anyway, obviously deliberately, I believe, with me watching, and I felt affected by it.  Whether it was real in intention or just a humorous or mocking caricature, it made me angry because it was deliberate, and I hadn’t wanted my attention forced onto him in that way, I needed the space I had to resolve my own thoughts in the situation I am in, 2000 miles away sitting on my sofa in a pain-filled violent harassment situation.  He was deliberately calling attention and short-circuited the process.

He said some other stuff, about someone not being welcome in the situation anymore, and because of the violent call on my attention I felt confused because I was still with my situation here and had been forcibly removed in my mind from it against my will and criminally, I believe, so I thought he was talking about here.  He put his hands up and opened them out like a book, which is another part of the gesture cluster, and I was just getting angrier, then he smiled as if he recognised a presence (whether it was an act or not I don’t know, it seemed real), held the camera with his eye then jerked away and hit the desk with his papers, which I always find really crude and violent as a form of command or territory marking, and called on his interviewee.  What is that about?  I thought it was a psychic thing.  He was using material from my Google Translate session and from my unpublished post.  I don’t understand the gesturing now, I thought it was a psychic thing, but maybe it is just bad handling of a transition into an interview, saying my stuff which he shouldn’t be accessing and defiantly holding the camera in a face off.  It’s still criminal.  It’s still a crime, using what I haven’t even published yet or never would have.  I’m not sure where he was getting the Google Translate stuff from, but the draft post must have been through WordPress or straight off of my computer.

I was so angry and outraged and afraid and offended and disturbed, I started to hear voices.  Ghosting voices, behind me, like the woman shouting hallelujah, but they seemed to be more in my ears.  I don’t know, it was just frightening and disturbing and horrible.  After a few minutes I shouted at her to shut up because it was 12.30 am here and there shouldn’t be any noise after 10 pm.  Then I thought, ‘is it her, it might not be’.  I thought about what was happening, how it seemed to be whispers insistent and crowding around my ear, and decided it was an occult manifestation brought on by the psychologically and spiritually violent and illegal thing which had just been done to me.  It just occurs to me now, as well, that it was my sister’s birthday yesterday, 9th March, and just like Jools Holland held a concert in my birth city on my birthday, Derek Acorah did a show on my sister’s birthday, so there might have been an occult connection there as well, as well as all the straight forward illegal stalking ones.  My sister has been harassed by satanists, who have told her so, if I remember it right.

But he just stayed there, Jamie, staring down the camera, just going on and on, and I was thinking ‘no, this isn’t OK, this is illegal and spiritualist stalking and you have just broken into my mind and life and home by your use of my material’, he laughingly talked about a ‘grievous and irreparable breakdown’, which was relevant to my post subject which is still in draft form, and went out on another laughed ‘grievously’, and apart from anything else I felt mocked and teased about something which, to me, is really serious.

The sports report came on and at one point there was a picture of a group of sportsmen screaming a psychologically disarming warrior type screech, and the presenter came straight backed insistently facing off into the camera instructing someone, on the wave of that yell, to ‘remember when’.  That isn’t good.  That is bad.  I can’t find the terminology for it at the moment, I don’t think I’m imagining it this time, I’ve just been assaulted by another yell from my neighbour as soon as I started to write this, at 2.30 in the morning.  But it isn’t good, what happened in the sports report, and as part of the psychological stalking pattern which is part of and enabled by access to facts and people, I know it’s criminal, whether people will acknowledge that to me or not.  Or do anything about it or not.  And they should.  They are commanding me as if they have a right, more or less saying, ‘you did this and you did that and we have a right to resist you’, but it appears to release something in the studio which is what I think they are after.  It is obviously something they like.  But they savage me to get it.  And all the banging and tapping, obviously and surreptitiously, is grossly offensive and distracting and psychologically violent, for those targeted and whose attention is held as it is visited on them, territory marking.

They were using Tiger Woods as well.  I feel really sorry for him, we all saw how they treated him and I recognise in him the same signs of having been deliberately broken down and crushed, as a person with an open faith/religious position involving a strong moral stance, and left wanting to beg and plead with those who have crushed him as if he needs their permission, as if they glory in making him feel his salvation and redemption, as well as their ‘well, we sympathise but it serves you right’ attitude, are in their hands, that I do in myself.  When I see that it upsets me and makes me really angry.  I want to cry for him and pull them off.  There is something in me, I want to physically attack them and force them away from him when I see them letting him express that extremity of pain and and brokenness and apparently be offering no sympathy or support.  They have no right to humiliate people like that.  Who are these fans that he owed the contents of his entrails to?  If he doesn’t know them, they don’t exist, they were made up for him to make him grovel.  If he does know them and they think it was any of their business, they are probably wrong, in my opinion.  I don’t think it should have been public fare at all, it should have been contained and I can’t see why there had to be a public apology.  The only people he owed anything to were his wife and their relatives.  But then maybe I’m just misjudging the media again.  As a if not the top golfer at the time, if it hadn’t been formalised publicly it would have leaked, which might have been worse).

I’ve thought several times about the sentence from ‘Field of Dreams’, about a baseball player called Babe Ruth, I think, where it says, ‘if we build it, he will come’.  I think he was dead and they wanted his spirit in the place they built for him.  That is what they are doing with – me?  Someone said just because you are in it it doesn’t mean it is about you.  There are lots of people I know ‘in it’.  Is it about us all or is it just general harassment?  Why are we all in it? But more to the point for me, why am I and my family in it, who have no public platform or role?  Many of the lookalikes and namesakes I see – have a working role in a place I have been associated with.  But some are just ordinary people I have met, very quickly after I have met them, placed in a cluster which makes it obvious to me, if to no one else.

I’m wondering if they’re holding a prayer vigil or something, in the apartment upstairs.  I just heard a tapping as I was working with the last paragraph, at ‘that’ point in my engagement and concentration, and I stopped and listened and inwardly examined and challenged it, and the woman coughed in a way which is obviously not my imagination.  I don’t want it, if that is what it is (I swear someone just cried out hallelujah).  They won’t go to the police.  It’s harassment (another cough).  I don’t even get my own head space and work space in the middle of the night, if they have decided to hold some sort of vigil.  (Pause to think and challenge and reject my feeling of responsibility to go and knock on their door and see what is wrong and if and how I can help, countered by another cough).  It makes me feel as if I am being horrible and unmerciful, but they have set this in motion themselves, I don’t think we understand each other, as far as I am concerned everything they are doing is illegal (I type in response to her nasty chav noise) and if they won’t go to the police instead of harassing and invigilating I can’t see what can be done even if – no forget it, I am not responsible. They only want to make me feel that way.  If they wanted help they would initiate finding it themselves.  It appears they obviously have not and therefore probably do not.  So on that horrible derisive sound which makes me feel my whole night is going to be punctuated by these outbursts, I’m going to see what I can achieve by way of sleep in bed.  At least these days I have decided I’m not just going to stay hysterically glued to my sofa and fall asleep on that, I do actually go to bed in my bedroom, which I think is better.  They are making me feel like a really bad person for standing up for myself and not doing their work for them.  Yeah, whatever.  I should show some concern.  It feels like the most appropriate thing to do.  It also feels like the most inappropriate thing to do, at this time of night.  I should shout ‘I’m sorry’ or something.

I’m sorry, I’m not going to, I’m going to bed.  If the news people’s (again) suggestion that the situation is too broken down and I’m not welcome anymore and they are going to get me out is true (they do this all the time) so be it.  I’m really upset by it and feel very insecure but/and I’m going to bed.  Schnor-di-schnor.  Goodnight 🙂  (Woah, very resistant sounding bang, followed up by a muffled ‘hallelujah’ when I started writing this comment.  Their hallelujahs are an illegal and criminal, at this time of nght, expression of witchcraft – not to mention communist-style torture – or have I done that already?

WAGblog: Dum Spiro Spero

"While I breathe, I hope"

Emerging From The Dark Night

Working through the Dark Night of the Soul to emerge as me.

The Elephant in the Room

Writing about my experiences with: depression, anxiety, OCD and Aspergers

The Sir Letters

A Tale of Love

The Seeker's Dungeon

Troubling the Surf with the Ocean

Seroquel Nation

Onward and upward...

We are all in this together

it's gonna be okay.

my last nerve

psychology | psychiatry | neuroscience | n stuff

A Philosopher's Blog

A Philosopher's View of the World...assuming it exists.