Tag Archive: Tommy Boyd


Loss, Mortality And Related Issues

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Another One Bites The Dust 05.08.2013

There is a new patient on the ward, Kerry, a tall, black woman who has been harassing me for days and calling me racist every time there is a conflict.  She accuses and abuses me in religious terms mingled with hate words like bitch, says fuck God and Jesus, etc, and when I have taken issue with it the approach from staff has been to tell us both to be quiet.

Jim came back on the ward this week, he is doing nights.  He seems to think that all he has to do is turn his lovely face on me and all will be forgiven.  Or maybe it is just me that thinks it should be that way and I need to free myself from that requirement I have of myself and from the power of the need I want met by being able to do that.

His first night on was last night.  He was on with Sue, the nurse who told me to f off then lied about it and has since been calling me love and darling.  I find that aggressive and mauling, especially in the particular circumstances with her.  Last night (Sunday) I asked Jim if we could have some time to talk.  I was upset about things that had happened in the day (I didn’t tell him that), and he said no, he had things he needed to catch up on, but he would try today, but wouldn’t put anything in the diary because ‘sod’s law doesn’t work that way’.  So everything is handed over to the whims of sod’s law then, is it, with nothing to oppose or raise as a goal?  I noticed that before midnight he had time to sit around the office having casual chats with the members of his team, including one from Eastern Europe, asking her about her family, but he didn’t have any time to talk to me, and he has been away 5 weeks or so.  During this time other senior members of the staff have also been doing duties off the ward, following, it seems, my blog post about the ‘bust up’.  Ruth, the ward manager, approached me a few weeks ago saying some of the staff were hurt and upset about the fact their names had been used in my blog and that she had been advised that if I didn’t remove the names they could.  I haven’t had that in writing.  I think I should ask for it, through my advocate.  I tried to settle to sleep last night and after midnight I found I couldn’t, so eventually I went out to Jim and said I couldn’t settle and needed either ten minutes to talk or some lorazepam to help me settle.  He told me they weren’t allowed to have one to ones after midnight and that I would have to have lorazepam.  Last night was at my request, though a begrudging request.  Tonight they forced an injection on me.

Tonight Kerry kept winding me up and picking on me and eventually Judita, one of the health care assistants, told me she thought she was doing it on purpose to wind me up.  I asked her why she hadn’t tried to stop her if that was what she thought and she asked how she could.  I said she should have told Jim, the nurse in charge tonight.  Kerry started calling me racist, saying she was black and I am white, I told her it was nothing to do with race, it was just that she was harassing me and being a nuisance.  She started saying I thought I was something and saying that everyone was scared of me but too frightened to say so because I had physical bulk.  I said no one was scared of me.  I felt it in my womb every time she started on me and I interpreted it as something to do with her energy and the nature of her accusations (I think now this might have been wrong, that the fact I felt it there was more to do with the oppressiveness of the whole place and power), and I said I wasn’t a prostitute.  She has told me she had been, in what I thought was a good and promising conversation yesterday afternoon, and I felt sympathy for her, because she was on benefits and her father, she said, was a paedophile who had hurt her and her mother had thrown her out.  But tonight I realised she had had no moral necessity to go that way, not everyone who has been a victim of paedophilia does, and I said there were plenty of agencies which could have helped her and that being a prostitute had been her choice which not everyone in her position makes.  She was also saying she wanted a spliff, so I realised she was a drugs user.  Someone else told me they used cocaine, and suddenly I began to wonder why I am here, subjected to everything I get from the staff, whether deliberate or incompetent, when I don’t use drugs, I don’t hear voices, I don’t have a drink problem, and although I can shout when angry to defend myself I am not violent.  When I shout it is because I am angry or afraid or FEEL violent.  It is a substitute for violence, not a lead up to it.  At one point Jim came and told Kerry to behave, but then it started all over again with her being blasphemous and vile, and I was telling her not to attack and accuse a child of God.  She was saying she was Satan, and all sorts of things, then when I started telling her to leave me alone she started to mix in Sarah instead of Satan, out of the Bible.  No one was moving to stop her.  I threw a plastic coke bottle across the room at the floor.  It didn’t hit her, but she jumped up to attack me.  I was sitting down and I put my foot out to keep her at a distance.  I told her I hadn’t thrown it at her and she insisted I had.  Jim came out to tell her to go to her room, and I felt immediately calm and safer.  Then he told me he wanted me to go to my room.  At first I said I would because I wanted to go to the toilet but I said I didn’t want him in my room while I went to the toilet.  Jim said he wouldn’t be in my room, they would be outside.  I went to my room, then got angry at how unreasonable and unfair it was, and kept coming out shouting things, like they had just given Kerry permission to do that again any time she wanted to, that I had been calm when she was taken away from my space but now I was not calm because what they were doing to me was unjust and the dispeace I now felt was a direct result of their actions towards me.  Perhaps it had also, before, been a result of their inaction in what they knew was happening.  They said to ignore her, and I said I couldn’t because I couldn’t just walk away and be able to stay away, I had to keep coming back to it.  I told them they had no comparable situations in their own lives which were not a matter of their own choice, and that it was unreasonable of them to tell me to ignore it.  Staff had said to me on Sunday that they knew she was a problem and that I should tell them if she was upsetting me.

Anyway, I kept coming out of my room and shouting things about respect and dignity and unjustly robbing people of theirs when they had not been the problem, and I kept scuttling back to my room in fear of what they might do to me if I stayed in the corridor, so I came out of my room and confronted it in those words, saying why should I have to stay in my room and not be justifiably angry and say why for fear of what they would do to me.  I think they came and asked me to go to my room again and I refused, saying they were causing my distress by their unfairness.  I was speaking loudly, if not shouting, I hadn’t touched anyone.  Given that the law says I cannot be manhandled if I am not a danger to myself or anyone else I understand what happened next to have definitely been illegal.  They grabbed me by the arms and started dragging me to my room.  Altogether in the end there were about 8 people involved, one of whom was called Mark, who had hold of my left arm.  Adem from Redwood 2 was another.  When I said they had given Kerry permission to do what she liked whenever by what they were doing to me he shook his hand off at me and turned his back and started walking away.  As soon as we got to my room they told me to get down on the floor, and I said I wanted to go to the toilet, and they said I couldn’t.  At first I thought they might let me go but they forced me down face to the laminate flooring and told me to calm down.  I said I had good reason to be angry and that I wasn’t going to become calm for them if this was the way they thought they could enforce it.  On my way to my room I was telling Jim I wanted a change of key nurse and that I didn’t want another, that he was a hypocrite and however proficient he was in philosophy he was not fit to be in charge of this situation.  I told him I would write in my blog.  I also told Kerry that I wouldn’t protect her by using only her first initial as I had for other patients, that I had no legal duty and recognised no moral duty towards her.

At one point I said while I was sitting on the bed before they put me on the floor that I hadn’t been violent, and Mark said ‘not yet’.  I have never been physically violent to people here, even though provoked, as he was provoking me at that point.  When they had me down they wanted to gentle my arms and I told them to stop, saying they should choose between violence and assault and being gentle, but not try to mix the two.  I asked them to turn my radio up because it was interesting, but they wouldn’t.  It said at one point that if we acted in real life as we might in a lucid dream we would act more kindly.  At around that point they withdrew from my room without saying anything.  They kept stroking my arm, stroking my hair, and given what they were doing I completely resented it.  At one point they told me that this had been my choice, when it evidently had not been, they grabbed me and forced me down.  It was their choice.  People who act like this often tell their victim of assault that it was their own choice when that is factually a lie.  They turned away from reason.  At one point someone said something to Mark and he spoke jeeringly.  I said that was what they had done to Jesus.  I said they were evil and that I was not going to make that any more palatable for them.  I told them not to sigh at me but to go and deal with their own relaxation needs away from me.  I called him or them bastards and Mark said ‘that’s right, I am a bastard.’  Something was tickling the bottom of my leg and I told them to move their hand.  I was told there was nothing on my leg.  At the very least it might have been my own trousers.  I called them mental sadists who would swear that black was white then call me racist for using that expression.

They came with medication and offered me tablets or it would have to be an injection.  Bearing in mind I was calm when Kerry was removed, immediately, and that this second distress was their doing.  For them it seems to be all about power and being obeyed and not being seen to back down.  They are very high handed then won’t back down even if their unreasonableness becomes apparent, and they just go ahead obeying orders as a team even if personally they think something else.  In a situation like this I think that is not acceptable human behaviour.  They broke my metal watch strap.

After they had gone I was still shouting, even from the toilet.  I passed the office and Jim was laughing with his colleagues.  They were taking a position of not needing to acknowledge me while I was shouting, even though they had just visited a physical assault on me.  So they sat there pretending, in every way available to them, that I wasn’t there.  Jim seemed to be mirroring the rhythms of my voice with his body language.  While I was on the floor in my room they wanted me to shuffle so that I was properly inside my door.  They said something about my dignity.  I said I didn’t care what they wanted and if they cared about my dignity they could restore what they shouldn’t have taken from me in the first place.

In conversations with people I have been told that Jim does not hold grudges.  I’m beginning to doubt this or that it was ever an appropriate thing to say anyway, as if there were not issues that needed to be discussed and he was blameless.  I think they removed me from that situation because they didn’t want me there calm and rational and back in control of myself without their intervention, but all they did was make me feel worse.  I felt no feelings of violence at that point, the feelings of violence, (against my beliefs and convictions?) and practices, came directly out of their assault on me and everything that went with it.  If they can perpetrate an act of assault and violence on me, why is it not seen as acceptable if I reciprocate?  Even to acknowledge the feelings is to open myself up to detrimental decisions about me from the staff.  This tonight has been a deliberate act, out of control or coldblooded, of subjugation and humiliation.  I feel that something happened after I wrote my ‘bust up’ entry that took so many key staff off the ward for so long.  I think talk about illness is lies, eg back injuries.  One person I do believe, I talked to him yesterday morning (yesterday being Sunday).

I confront with words when I feel necessary.  They react and confront with threat and physical force and injections.  And yet am I to feel I should make exceptions for them and concessions to their so-called humanity?  I am supposed to be protected at the moment at least in my room, let alone I think what they have done tonight would have been illegal anyway, because I wasn’t a danger to myself or anyone else.  Free speech which is not unprovoked defense or harassment should not be seen as being a danger to anyone.  So Kerry is fat-ist, I’m dangerous and violent because I am fat.  How many other people are approaching and judging me that way?  I don’t blank people, I listen, that is my problem.  I listen and think.  Thinking that way is her problem, but her communication is so quixotic it cuts me to the quick.

The time when Jim said please in a way which was so painful to me afterwards, something else came up in the conversation and I said that they weren’t the ones being threatened with the closest thing they could get to gang rape, meaning forced medication if I didn’t willingly comply, on a regular basis.  He put it in my notes that I had merely meant being asked to go to bed so they could clean the chairs.  I don’t want this relationship to be retrievable now, I don’t like what he does.  But for me that is hurtful because he has this knack of making me feel as if it is one of the few that does anything like work.  His responses were visceral tonight, calling both me and Kerry selfish people, for a start, because people wanted to sleep.  But when I continued to be angry until and beyond 12.45 am he made no attempt to stop it, just ignored it, and I believed his appeal to people wanting to sleep had just been self-serving in the first place.  He was unreasonable.  He was telling me to calm down when he had just made me uncalm again, and he himself was agitated.  Unreasonable, unjust and illegal.  I said they should join Mugabe’s regime, that what they had done was so wrong and unjust they must be deliberately and knowingly participating in social engineering.  Also I said I had won by letting them play out the full extent of their savagery on me, because now I can document what happened.  I think Jim must be afraid of me to treat me this way.  I still don’t know why he was calling out ‘say you’re sorry, apologise’ from the office that day.  It had been one of the things I wanted to talk to him about and find out what it was about.  Meeting tonight didn’t happen either.  He didn’t even think it was important enough to insist on making 10 minutes for me.  He told me he had to do an admission.  I’m sure the admission could have waited 10 minutes.

Also the reason it is difficult for me when this kind of thing happens is that my love and trust and obedience kick in just because, for over a year, I haven’t really been touched by anyone else.  I can be sitting next to complete strangers and want to rest my head on their shoulders and maybe look for support.  I want love and hugs.  I’ve heard from the church that physical force is OK and should be submitted to, that it can turn people to obedience, which is where they should be.  I find this situation too cruel for words, and also my own requirement of myself within it.  I don’t go with this anymore.  Adrian Plass said in one of his books that when he had an interview with the main man at work when he was working with troubled children, the man lay on the carpet and let him talk.  Something else as well, he didn’t react punitively to someone who broke a window in his home, or something.  He loved him, from what I remember.  I can’t remember if this is also Adrian Plass, but it is definitely Tommy Boyd, that if someone came at him he would hug them from behind until they calmed down.  Those are my values, the awesome perceptions and right modes of operation, in my eyes.  A hug without further threat, even though seen as restraint, with no further threat, could easily be accepted as love and the kind of physical contact we are made for.  Men who won’t hug me here will restrain me as they did tonight.  I am struggling to recover my humanity.  I’m 52, childless and menopausal.  I feel now as if saying that is just manipulation, but I think and feel that having to feel that way is appalling.

Jumble

WordPress has changed its presentation quite radically in its new presentation of Freshly Pressed.  I prefer the old ‘at a glance’ approach.  If I say something it is almost a guarantee that what I want isn’t going to happen in changing back.

I was thinking today that perhaps the reason for my dark thoughts and interpretations and presentations of my situation is the colour and design of my blog, and it might be time to get a new theme. Is the difference between bright and happy and dark and brooding the difference between child material and adult material?  I’ve been thinking I’ve been writing like a teenager with angst, writing dark things like someone trying to trip lightly.  Maybe the style I attempt is too light for the things I write about.

I watched an old play radio video today that I downloaded from Youtube.  4 hours of Tommy Boyd, but the lighting on his face was awful. It made it look as if he had white patches all over his face.  I am sure they could have done better than that, so why they didn’t I have no idea.

The door slamming isn’t stopping.  It is really making me feel ill.  I am lying pinned in terror and feelings of sickness to my bed.  It isn’t just the door slamming, it is the strangeness and contempt. Julie still refuses to talk to me.  I’d like to go and get a cup of tea but I am up here in almost constant shock and feelings of weakness and dread.  My own reactions have contributed to that as much as anything else.

I’m really confused, I don’t know what to do for the best.  The things I need to do I am not sure if I can do them adequately, like write new emails of complaint to Nottingham City Homes and the IPCC (Independent Police Complaints Commission).

Who am I writing for when I write my blog?  I don’t know any of my respondents. Who comprises my intended readership?  I am largely aware of my stalkers and their responses/criticisms.  A lot of the time I am trying not to sound stupid to them, or I will be made to feel stupid.

I’m thinking about my pastors and their almost caveman-like approach to me, as one of their lost goods and chattels. There is something about David in the Bible who, when enemies took the camp;s possessions, ‘pursued and overtook’ until he recovered everything.  It appears that my pastors’ interpretation of this justifies stalking in their minds.  I don’t think I am imagining it.  Actually, at the moment I do, or I would not need to say that.

I’m sick of church and the thought of it.  When I remember the treatment I got there, especially in the 90s, and the fact that no apology has been given into my hands, I don’t want to go back.  I just want to sleep.  I just want some peace and respect and security.  I want some love.  I never knew a father’s embrace, a peaceful, contented, quiet and still thing.  I don’t think I will find it with any Pentecostal men, I don’t think they would sully themselves or their consciences to give that kind of support and therapy.  But now I feel as if I am being childish and that at my age, even given my background, I shouldn’t need that.  But David kisses his daughter and lets her kiss him, his 40 year old daughter who shares my birthday (I never knew that until a week ago, but David has known it for years and not told me.  I wasn’t close to the family so didn’t ask, but he could have told me when he had my birthday during the radio programme days.  But he didn’t.  It would have been a nice, friendly thing to do.).  I feel I am betraying myself and them by putting this in my blog.  And I feel I am being ungrateful by interpreting a hand up as stalking and putting unwelcome requirements on me.

The last sermons posted on the Christian Centre site are 25th November, the day after my birthday and a failed attempt to go and see Tommy Boyd.  I think they are reading my blog and my communications to Tommy, with or without his permission and co-operation, and they are holding back sermons for weeks.  If they are stalking me I shouldn’t go back, but I have been wanting to for weeks.  I feel really sick.  I can’t get my head together for anything.   Going back feels like the right thing to do but stalking is harmful and against the law, whoever is doing it and whoever they team with.

I’m reminded of a line from a Philip Larkin poem, ‘My mind’s not right’.  I offered that as the key line in a poem in 6th form and it was accepted and affirmed.  That reminds me of when David affirmed my selection of the verse that says Saul was jealous of David, because the Lord was with him and not with Saul.  I’m not sure if thinking in terms of key lines and thoughts and verses is altogether helpful now, and I could wish those things had not been asked, let alone my answers accepted.

PS The man in the ‘cinematic baguette’ post that was freshly pressed soon after I published this does not look far away from Gordon Brown who reminds me of David Shearman.  I’m not sure what WordPress’s purpose was in that.

A Coward Dies A Thousand Deaths

I’ve been thinking that about myself in relation to going back to church.  I have had the same battle every Sunday for three weeks.  I wonder if anyone else can put their hands up to being a coward?  I hear the preaching style and its content and I don’t want to go back, in spite of its historical place in my life.  At the same time I do want to go back.  But if we approach each other the wrong way it could explode in our faces, again.

I;m writing this in a hotel restaurant at 22.27 09.12.2012 UK time.  In Bulgaria it has just tipped over to Monday 10.12.2012.  I was reading in the Times yesterday, which I bought with a coffee, that President Putin wants to rebuild the old Soviet Union under another name, but that the West wants to avoid that happening or slow it down.  I was wanting to go back to Bulgaria ad buy there, but I’m not sure now.  I have heard that Bulgaria, of all the old Soviet countries, is closer in sentiment and politics to Russia than any of the others.  A lot of Russians buy in the country.  When Bulgaria first entered the European Union a Russian official expressed the wish that Bulgaria would be Russia’s Trojan horse in Europe.  There is an anticipated change in Bulgaria’s relationship with the EU scheduled for 2014 which is supposed to bring property prices into line with the rest of Europe.  What we have at the moment, if that is true, is a window of opportunity.  Opportunity for what?  To exploit the average Bulgarian who is selling at the moment at around 10,000 euros?  I can’t see how someone with self respect and respect for the people of Bulgaria could do that to them.  It seems quite a ‘sharp’ thing to do, to me.  After 2014 they could sell for more.

So there, I’ve committed it to writing, that I think it is just sharp business practice.  I wonder how people will feel if this re-establishing of the Soviet Union becomes a reality, if those who have bought will quickly get out.  If I buy and that happens, I won’t be staying.  I suppose he would want to go towards being closed, like before.  What about all the murders under the old communist regime, would they come back, or have lessons been learned?

I’m just writing, for no particularly good reason.  I told myself on the way down here that if I was repentant I wouldn’t be heading for a hotel to drink wine and download stuff.  I imagine David Shearman being angry with me and believing that he shouldn’t talk to me until he sees evidence of repentance.  Do I really want to go back to seeing the rest of the world as Egypt and ruled by demons?  But that is what the Bible says, that Satan is the god of this world, the ruler of the powers of the air.  I have felt loved by some of these people, rightly or wrongly.  I can see myself sitting happily in a congregation and rejecting everything.  I can see myself doing it, happily, it isn’t even a hope or a fear.

Repentance makes amends and seeks reconciliation.  What about everything I’ve said about not being able to be in church because they validate the mental health system and sometimes use it as a weapon or offend by taking it for granted, apparently, that it is right and that the person judged as mentally ill is rightly so judged?

I feel both sombre and happy.  I’m very tired.  Because of where I am at as a woman, every time I feel I have made a breakthrough in understanding how best to handle myself ad my relationships it also hurts deeply that I didn’t know before and then I feel unable to maintain any feeling of having made progress in any solid way.

That will do for now.  A bit more self-display.  It would not be so bad if it didn’t get into the wrong hands as well as kind ones.  Where’s Tommy Boyd?  He’s disappeared off the planet, by the looks of it.  I can’t believe he’s finished broadcasting for good.  It’s only his 60th birthday this year.  I thought he was more professionally committed than that.  He’s just gone, and I feel bereft, as well as anything else.  That sounds stupid and pretentious.  I’m also a bit pleased he isn’t there so I am not constantly infuriated.  I wish he was around for me because I feel I need him.  He was there once, when I sat with him in his car.  I wasn’t, I said no.  He pointed to his chest and said ‘I’M in here’ and looking back I always remember that as very touching and tender.  He didn’t seem to be trying to pull any tricks.  Every time I phoned up he said something to remind me of that night and it was too late, perhaps, that I realised it was possibly an invitation to talk some more.  Although how I could have done I don’t know.  If it was an invitation I didn’t understand that at the time.

 

Hey I can write now.  Maybe I always could.

Test

.

I believe and am convinced that my upstairs neighbours are executing a haunting on me, and people like BBC World News are helping them, with their regular, strongly-spiritual sounding music in their intervals, which grabs me and maybe my neighbours as well.  My neighbours latch onto it and shout ‘hallelujah’, and today they have been tapping at every change and interval.  I just shouted at them with the help of Google Translate that that is what they are doing, and they banged at me violently.  I thanked them for the violence and said that I would take that as a confirmation.

Every time I go to take my thoughts back and inspiration starts to be birthed, she shouts ‘hallelujah’.  At this point someone decided, I believe, that Internet Explorer needed to close because it had encountered a problem, and the newsreader on BBC World News just decided he needed to do a strong throat rasp, which to my mind was completely false.  They fill me with anger and hysteria when I type something like this, and it makes me feel I’m not going to be taken seriously by the authorities or even if I am, because of the mental trauma I won’t be helped.  The newsreader just banged violently on a surface, has started talking about ‘striking’ deals, then went into a more intimate tone in which he said a word to sound like ‘bottom’, as if in the bottom on your body.  I feel ridiculous, and I’m carrying so much that that is a feeling I can’t cope with.  My neighbours just struck violently as well, and she has just shouted ‘hallelujah’ in a disgustingly intimate, almost ‘there, there, there’ tone, as if comforting.

I don’t know the newsreader’s name.  I think it is Aaron something.  It is 2.08 pm UK time.  I feel hysterical again.  I don’t know if the monitoring is mechanical and all by media, if they have it on upstairs or what, or if it is all spiritualistic aided by physical and mental and spiritual violence, they have gained access to me that way.  He has momentarily switched back to sounding normal.  Like bait and switch, which was covered in the Watchdog programme a few months ago. 

I really need help.  I’m not sure if I can get it myself.  I’m not talking about psychiatric.  He has just said ‘letskit’.  His name is Aaron Thomas, I think.  Softly, softly innocent, but I don’t think he is.  He has just said ‘just’ with emphasis, as if to say, ‘I said ‘just’, not something else’.  Assuming the right to communicate, and a lying disclaimer.

I first heard about hauntings from Tommy Boyd.  He said someone had offered to carry one out on his behalf and he had turned them down.

His name isn’t Aaron, it is Owen Thomas.  The savage-girl/woman just said so.  The little dominatrix.  I’m not being hateful or spiteful.  That is the role she is playing.

This is why I left my flat in London, and now my landlord, Hexagon Housing Association, is trying to evict me, even though they know I left to try and get this sorted out from a safe distance and then go back.  They have cited abandonment, among other things.

I’m afraid and desperate.  The taxi companies here are involved as well.  I’m afraid, I can’t cope.

BBC World News is using strong ‘are’s to sound like ‘ah’ as they did on ‘Strictly Come Dancing’, which for me started with Tommy Boyd saying ‘I can make you say ‘ah’ ‘.  I’m not sure which came first, but it seems to me this is also a haunting technique.  Owen Thomas just finished as if he was talking reassuringly to small children.  This is such an insult.  It is a criminal insult.

I want to be happy.  I came here to be happy and safe.  I knew it wouldn’t be easy.  My emotions are in meltdown.  I am constantly close to tears.  My eyes are always wet and I can’t make relationships.

News people also weave me and world dictators together.  As they are now on BBC World News, the round table thing.  They keep clearing their throats.  They weave me together with a lot of people, it is something I can tell from their tone and body language, often.  And Ofcom won’t deal with this.  that is what the first level people have said, and their superiors, and I haven’t had the energy to pursue it further.  They keep striking tables and forcefully exhaling at significant points, so I am assuming that, whether this is a live broadcast or not, there is an element of spiritualism involved in this happening.  I think it is live though.  Their reactions are becoming more pronounced, and the man upstairs has just shouted violently.

If I can’t deal with it in here first, I can’t take it with me outside.  It feels too unreal and I look like a tramp and people look at me badly and it makes me feel angry and hysterical and desperate.  They just said ‘no, no’, in a way which felt like a deliberate opposition and reversal.  And they often hesitate, pause for effect, before saying with an appearance of innocence something like ‘touch’ as they just did.  They are deliberately and hatefully pumping something out into the spiritual atmosphere.  And the presenter has just said ‘we can’t go on any more’ like someone who means it emotionally.  Like me.

All the time they maintain an upbeat approach, even saying that is what they are doing in a way which feels like taunting and adds to the hysteria I feel, and also maintain a tone as if they are talking to small children.  It is now 3pm, there has just been an interval with the same expansive music which was followed up by something which, several times, talked about haunts, followed by a few seconds effective silence, and now Owen Thomas is back on.  I say ‘effective’ silence, because after the strong recognition of what was being done with the haunts advert, I felt terrified in the silence.  Owen Thomas is clearing his throat a lot.  He has just said, ‘Kevin Connelly, live in Bengazi’, and finished it with ‘thank you’, in the same way that I say ‘thank you’.  This is also a regular thing.  He said leak and I felt as if he had touched me sexually.  Somewhere that is the intention, and I know that in some contexts that intention is obvious.  Huw Edwards did it at the end of his programme two or three days ago, News at Ten, and when I just typed ‘Huw Edwards’, Owen Thomas struck his desk.  And my neighbour upstairs has just coughed angrily.  And I have done this silently throughout.  Something in this, if not everything, is deliberate from someone, a lot of people, or everyone.  Internet Explorer just ‘needed to close’ again, when I logged back on, after the woman upstairs shouted ‘hallelujah’ again, I had to retrieve an autosave, and as I did I noticed that at the bottom of the screen it said something which contained the string ‘wpnonce’.  That is what it feels like for me all the time.  A nonce.  Spiritually applied  psycholinguistics, I suppose.  ‘The red button’ is used in the same way.  It is now 4.47 pm and Clare Balding has just done it.

They are banging again, and it feels violent.  I am now firmly convinced that all my computer and browser crashes and freezes are actively and specifically part of the haunting. They even happen with good security.

I honestly believe that most, if not all, of the emotional voice squeaks and wobbles are affected and not real.

The banging is constant though intermittent now, and it is frightening me.  It feels like being beaten up and it feels threatening.  I wanted to go out today, as I did yesterday.  i felt i was gathering momentum and confidence and the ability to communicate which I need to go to the police.  But everything has intensified here, and I haven’t gone out.  I feel too intimidated, embarrassed and confused.

After I posted this, Barack Obama came on and delievered a speech, and he was almost in tears.  I haven’t seen him like that before.  I don’t know if the speech was live or recorded or when it was recorded if it wasn’t live.  I think he knows about me, but that might be just a media illusion, but I don’t think so.  Clare Balding is coupling Ed Byrne’s name with the word ‘dirty’.  I said in a previous post that I like Ed Byrne.  With her ‘yes, that’s right’, at this point today, she is playing medium or healer or charismatic or pentecostal Christian.  I know that charismatic and pentecostal Christians do that a lot.  The first time I knew she was doing that kind of thing, or believed that she was, was at the trooping of the colour televised last year, when she interviewed a couple of little girls and their father.  She spoke to the older girl, who said how proud she was of her father, and she turned away to her little sister and said the horse was a ‘bit of a star’, and I felt it was disapproval and criticism being expressed towards the older girl for being what Clare appeared to think was ‘above herself’.  The older girl had that slightly dazed and surprised look of someone who knows something has just happened, but is not sure what or how, and even if they do know, they can’t address it or challenge it, because it has been put subliminally, it has taken them time to catch up, and the situation has moved on.  Also the person might not acknowledge it, because it was not explicit.  I suppose that is usually why it is not explicit, so that, if challenged, the person doesn’t have to own it.  In physical terms it might be equated to referred pain, and in psychological terms it would be called displacement.

My computer just crashed completely, twice, as I felt spiritually at my most open.  The men on the same programme with Clare, the Oxford/Cambridge boat race, started talking about ‘gut’ and ‘Asus’ (cf previous post on Isus/Jesus), and as I typed this one of the men started doing something with his speech which I have become familiar with in Bulgaria and never noticed anywhere else before I noticed it here, a close approximation on a page would be ‘leraleralera’, mid flow.

If I tried to diarise every instance of what they are doing, I would never be able to stop, because they don’t stop themselves.  One of them has just said ‘soon’, caressing it with his voice, emotionally, and it felt to me like my name.

They just put together ‘experienced crew’ to sound like ‘screw’, ‘took a’, to sound like ‘tuka’, the Bulgarian word for ‘here’, and referred to ‘arms aloft’ which is a familiar attitude of praise and worship in charismatic and pentecostal churches.  Their whole commentary sounded very emotional, I don’t know how much it actually means to them.  But I tend to think the whole thing is displacement and deliberate transference.

My problem with this, even if it is well-intentioned, is that this appears to be all they do, I am not aware of any practical support being given to me, I am left terrified and feeling inadequate and guilty and stupid and incapacitated, and at the end of the day, it has to be illegal harassment.  And if people are thought to be mentally ill and say this kind of thing is happening to them, they are not believed.  I have not been.  Or I have been and people thought it was easier and more convenient to pretend they didn’t believe me so they wouldn’t have to get involved, and keep me in hospital, locked up, drugged and bullied instead.  While this has happened to me and is happening to other people, how can I not say that I believe this is not OK?  Under any circumstances and from any body?

7.13 pm UK I have just told my neighbours, with the help (?) of Google Translate, that my father killed himself when I was 11, dealing with neighbours like them and, I believe, with a situation exactly like this, and that I was going to press for a penalty.  That girl Karin, the young, blonde newsreader, was close to tears while I was sitting watching and observing and hearing all the same stuff as usual and thinking, ‘why am I watching this? – because there is nothing else to watch’, and at the end she surreptitiously touched the desk as she went off (maybe they think it is normal, but I think it is superstitious, and faced it constantly, face to face, while I was going through the mental health system, in the early days, from people, often shop assistants and bar staff, I didn’t even know).  She went out with what looked like a bit of a sneer.

I don’t know if she knows what I have just done, their scripts are regularly peppered with things I have recently said and done, but I don’t know how aware they are as newsreaders.  I suspect they are very aware, but I don’t know.

I had a close friend at school called Karin.  It took me a while to catch up with the fact that this girl now is too young to be her.  If some of them know I suppose they all know, so the only point in naming names and quoting facts is for other people’s information and hopefully for their embarrassment and exposure.

I’m a point of contact.  That is obvious from what I am seeing and hearing on the TV and radio, and the parliament site, and from what people are doing to me here.  The constant vocals and violent banging, the territory marking/taking, the shout and/or bang from upstairs as soon as my TV goes on.

There was a state broadcast on this evening on BBC World News by a woman, which was translated by a man.  It was soon after I put the TV on, and upstairs did their stuff, and I started cooking.  People often pinpoint my activity as I engage in it, and Nik Gowing said, quite pleased-sounding, that what had been on the back burner was now on the front burner.  He draws on my neighbours and makes the situation worse.  When he does it and interferes with my state of consciousness, that is when they start doing what they do.  He is a spiritual and psychological molester.  That is what I know from what he has just done with the no fly zone and how he has used it.  I think he is trying to present himself as someone who has a right to discipline.  And a savage little girl-woman has just come on.  That smile, that ‘look at little girl me’, it’s forced.  It isn’t real, it’s false.

I was in mind mode for this when I started writing.  He deliberately changed it into awe mode.  Changing my mode of consicousness, my appropriate state of consciousness, into wonder, then hitting me with molestation, in a situation he knows is violent, and I know he knows it is violent and illegal because he reads my blog.  Is targeting a member of the public with the practice of spiritualism while appearing just to be presenting a programme, is that also illegal?  I hope so.  The gathering of information must be, even if they have used my family and former teachers, it is stalking, harassment and mobbing in which those people should never have participated.  He has left me feeling I should go to my neighbours.  But all of them, media and my neighbours, are using me as a point of contact with each other, and I have said I won’t validate that.  He said in strict tones something about something being technically outside of the no-fly zone, just after he had done some of this.

During the broadcast I mentioned, the man’s voice was all over the place.  I knew what my neighbours were doing and I challenged it, and they kept changing, and as they did, his voice did as well.  This was during The Hub, Nik Gowing, as I have said.  They have been violent several times today and this afternoon, and I assume she is a witch using hallelujah as a point of contact (maybe that is why the word has become so popular throughout the media and performance world, together with the Harry Potter stuff and all the serious literature aimed at children and teenagers about witchcraft), and that she shouts it out when she feel a loss of control or force or something.  In the end the man’s voice settled into a Bulgarian tone, and the people upstairs started saying ‘yes’ and commenting.

You people must hate me very much to do this to me and to let me be taken advantage of in this way.

I wondered after Nik said something about from back to front burner, who he was informing.  I thought it might be a welcome to me, then I thought, ‘is he telling other media people, including in Bulgaria, so they can get on my case and start putting more stuff out about me?’  I’m not sure which is more likely, I thought the second might be, but I always come back to knowing that it is their medium techniques (for instance, I sent Tommy Boyd some crystals, and there are crystals in the weather report, and the globe looks like lapiz lazuli, which featured in a poem that was in a course taught by my Critical Method lecturer) and that it is wrong.  I’m wondering if Tommy passed them on to someone like Derek Acorah, whom I have met, even though I have made it clear that I am anti-spiritualism.  One of the things I had sent to him, which I bought new from Ebay, it was received and signed for, but he didn’t acknowledge it and I emailed him saying please acknowledge it or send it back, but he did neither.  He knew I wasn’t happy about him keeping it without acknowledging it, and I have often thought since then that it was being used as a point of contact.  In recent years I never even thought about it on the odd occasion I phoned his show, and he asked me my name, every time.  I’m not sure if that was on his mind.  I just wanted to talk to him on his show.  I only phoned when engaged and friendly was what was in my mind.  When I phoned in I was never even thinking about taking him to task about anything off-air, though I suppose now that I could have asked him if he had received it and if he liked it or something, but I had dismissed it ages ago and decided I was happy to let him have it and keep it on any terms.  If keep it he did.

Nik said it was The Hub, and in light of all this I thought, ‘no, it isn’t, this is, so the name of the programme is just another point of contact’.  It was a realisation which registered with Mr Gowing, his body language and facial expression changed, and he looked pained and afraid, and I felt betrayed and he seemed to register that and interpret it as love, which I suppose it is.  I know how stupid and false I sound, I am furiously angry and suffering badly from false guilt and fear, of what my neighbours seem able and prepared to do, and also what the authorities, albeit illegally, might do and how they might treat me, suffering as I am from stalking and other people’s exercise of witchcraft and spiritualism against me while I am vulnerable.  I’m writing this, I believe it is what I have learned in Church, maybe developed a bit, I’m not sure, but while I’ve been writing I’ve been thinking I should drop the pretence, apologise to my neighbours and deal with my psychological problems, if any remain after doing the first two things.  They are working as a team against me, vocally, and every time my eyes open (I do mean my physical eyes, as I go focussed at something, she utters a dark and angry and terrifying sound.  The rest of the neighbours are just keeping quiet, for the most time.  Tonight they have been a bit more vocal.  But they don’t do anything, they just complain.  They don’t, as far as I know, go to the police, but they know I want them to.

He turned away, at which point I dropped my guard a little or was a little less attentive, and when he turned back he walked strongly, like big cat, up on the camera.  I had someone do that to me before, years ago.  It seemed to be about inhibiting and taking control.

When I think, she speaks.  It is as if she is a medium or something, and deliberately voicing vibrations.  That is the only thing that fits for me.  Unless she is deliberately putting out menacing sounds into the air and into my ears.  She sounds as if she is droning.  She has all sorts of tones and registers she employs, which might not mean anything in itself.  When I try to break it in writing, my browser crashes.  Also, I have to sign in to WordPress manually all the time at the moment, in spite of the fact that I tick the remember me box and don’t normally have to bother.  It’s like swatting flies and dealing with constant playground squabbles.  They demand my attention, literally, and I fail to give it to more urgent things.  While I am dealing with stuff on my doorstep, sometimes I even forget the more urgent things.

I’m not a witch, though the abuse and betrayal from the church make it hard for me to feel sorry for what I did that made them call me one.  But I think they were calling me one before that anyway.  I’m a person who feels constantly embarrassed, and afraid to go out, for fear of possible violence or because I feel worked over from what has been happening while I have been at home. 

I have nowhere to go with this.  How can I go to the police and say that I am being harassed by people using spiritualism?  The people involved would probably lie anyway, even if the police took it seriously.

I don’t want to go to the church, because my idea at first was to take my stand with other unwilling psychiatric patients, and the church encourages people to think of people with problems or who they don’t know how to help or who they don’t like, perhaps, in psychiatric terms, and church leaders force the issue, from the platform, in a way which is torturous at times, and deliberately so, which is something I know from my own experience.  No, psychiatry is not for me, neither are church leaders and ministers who insist on making me see things that way, and making other people see me that way.  That is where I stand.  My mind is being so messed with I’m losing my certainty over whether it is the only place I can stand.  The banging violence and the verbal violence and hatred.  It doesn’t have to be in the words, it is all in the tone.  Hallelujah hasn’t worked, all day, and resulted in peace, so she has gone back to  occultic control and hatred.  Every day the same.  I think they hold a seance over me.  From their actions, they might just as well be doing that, even if they aren’t.

My church leaders know that is why I don’t go back to church, as well as the fact that I don’t want to validate their stalking,  They use my blog all the time, weave with it and mock me with it and appeal with it, anything but make a proper and open approach.  But they still use my stuff, and anything else they can pick up from whatever stalking methods they use.  I’ve apologised for what I can apologise for, to my church leaders, and I keep saying my church leaders, because I want to be there, it is what I have known most of my life, but I am serious about the psychiatry thing.  So what I am saying is, there doesn’t seem to be anyone I can turn to.

They have used my music – Osho, Michael Mish – they like the rhythms, they tried to replicate them in their services, in a very obvious way.  I’m not sure how much they got off my computer and how much they heard from the local black church a very few doors away.  To know the names of the artists I would have thought they lifted it directly from my computer.  They have known about telephone and email communication as well, quoting it.  I sent something to Michael Mish in an email once and Kensington Temple commented on it, and gave the impression that Michael had said it was toxic, or something like that.  It was part of the Apostles’ Creed, or Nicene Creed, I wanted to know what he thought.  I assumed at the time that they must have been bugging his phone or computer, if he used Skype.  I get confused sometimes because John Pantry, at least, likes to present him as being under the covering of the church, and he also does that with Tommy Boyd.  Me, I’m just a standalone which probably no one is interested in.

I went out in my garden once, one Sunday morning or afternoon, once I had got round to feeling able to deal with someone in order to get it cleared and turf laid, and discovered that the local black church, The House Of Bread, was singing all the songs that I played on my CDs and sang to in my flat.  I didn’t know until then.  I thought that must be why there was so much of a problem between me and my neighbours.  I had never really been out to hear it before, but all my neighbours were telling their children to go indoors.  I was out on my lawn, with my door open, playing some of my own music from the lounge, but to hear what was coming from the church the music must have been turned off or something, or maybe that day I was reading a book.

I need to go shopping.  I feel like an occult prisoner.  I can’t get myself out of the door, feeling able to cope with it.  If I focus, my neighbours start their stuff.

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.

Sue Barnett, BA English Says:

“Look at this!

suebarnett Says:
January 26, 2011 at 10:00 am | Reply

This is all that appeared on Tommy Boyd’s blog from my comment on his post, “I see dead people”.

I left a whole comment, and these days my name appears as you see in the title of my post.

I wish people would stop playing these games.”

I Thought There Was No Such Thing

As HP spicy sauce in Bulgarian supermarkets.

I was wrong!!!!!      Yayaah!!!!!  Da-dah!!!!!!

Dumb gone found it today.  Now I have to make the burgers and rashers and sausages to go with it.  I could have it just with beans on toast, or mushrooms on toast.  Not sure what else.  Craving a boiled egg earlier.  Found loads of stuff I never knew existed when I first started by just putting the name of the food in a search engine together with the word ‘vegan’.  My 2 favourite finds vegan blue cheese (sheese) and others in the same range, and vegan honey (agave nectar).

I say that, but some of the burgers you can get are nice as well, but these were my first two serious wants.  Redwoods burgers are really nice.  Just like the old hamburger.  You can get others which are nice in their own right but nothing like a meat eater is used to.  Also wheat slices which are just like cold sliced smoked meat.  Yum yum.  Theres a place near Piccadilly Circus that does a great range.  Whole food market or something like that.  I’ve forgotten, it’s so long since I’ve been there (it WOULD be, I’ve been out of the country for over a year).  They’ve got a nice cafe there as well.  All organic, all diets, from meat and fish to vegetarian and vegan.  Great place to shop, I really love it.  You can make your own muesli or oat cluster type breakfasts if you aren’t as lazy as me, or you can get some nice vegan Belgian Chocolate cereal, and maple syrup and pecan, I think it is.  I can’t remember the name of the manufacturer now.  But it’s really delicious.  It is a good place to shop for something out of the ordinary, really different from the ubiquitous high street supermarket.

Even then, if enough people discover these things and ask for them, the supermarkets, so I am told (oh yeah?) will stock them.  Don’t know how that works.  It might work out more expensive for smaller orders.  When I first heard of agave nectar (agave is a plant and the nectar is just like runny honey and you can get it in a few different varieties, and there’s also something called Sweet Freedom which is plant based, slightly thicker and comes mild or rich) I never expected that I would be able to find it in Sainsbury’s, but they stock it.  The agave nectar, that is.

OK, change the subject, how stupid do I want to be?  I’m 50 years old, for goodness’ sake, but I might be about to sound like a teenager with a crush.  There is a really debonair photograph of Tommy Boyd on his blog, with a piercing stare and a smile, arms folded.  I’ve had a bad day today in many respects.  I’m exhausted.  I’m lying on my sofa, it’s now (this second) 2.25 am.

I just scrolled down and rediscovered it, and looked at his face, and smiled, and the next second I was gone.  Just like that.  Out like a light.  Not asleep, but ‘zapped’, as they would have said at St B’s.  Apart from the fact that it hurts because I don’t know where we are with each other, I feel a lot better already.  Ready for a good sleep.

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.

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.

I really hate it when I hear leaders moralising and laying down the law as though they themselves are paragons of virtue who have never done anything wrong.

Even if the violence on the student marches is purely politically motivated by a subversive minority and there is no real emotion of anger or frustration behind it, our leaders are laying blame with the protesters and denouncing it as if their own lives are and always have been pure.

Have you conveniently forgotten the violence and neglect of the state powers towards some of its people?  The lies and the smears and the cover ups and the subliminal abuses no one can get you for but that make them feel the most angry?

Also, I’m wondering if David Cameron has EVER, at ANY time in his life, acted out his own anger in a way which he believes should be condemned.

Identifying with people in their anger to the point of personal vulnerability often has a far more calming and reconciling effect than denouncing and blaming.  That’s what I think.  I might be wrong.  it’s an impression I got listening to Tommy Boyd’s Angry Hour, when he did it.  It worked for me.

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